I'm very private & discreet. I like some nasty, wild, & exciting fun. I like Gay/bisexual men &/or woman, Transsexual, & Crossdressers if you actually look like a woman to be my bottom & let me fuck the juices out that pussy. I'm a top (I don't get fucked). I love head & I would love to return the favor. I'm open to Threesomes (MFF, MFM, MMM, MTF, MTM, MTT) & Group Sex with couples. Love being dominant & in control. I get a thrill off the forbidden, sneeky, & thrill seeking sex. I also love making the Impossible possible & having something I never think I'll have. Now don't get me wrong, I'm all for a romantic setting, some 4-play, a lil role playing, especially if the woman is exotic & being enticing, I HAVE A Erotic, Flirtatious Nature. I'm kinky, nasty, ambitious, spontaneous, & tempting. I love Fun sex, wild sex, rough sex, I'm embracing my desires. I am what I am. I love what I love. Pornstar mentality & a open mind. I'm on a different level for some & too mature for most. I'm not judgemental & I try somethings at least once. I love to teach & be taught.

Nights in Arlen
A KotH sex story
By: null

It was about 9:30 PM on a Tuesday night in Arlen, TX. Luanne Platter and her friend Jaime are sat on Jaime’s 2nd floor apartment balcony. Not a big place at all but Jaime kept it clean and welcoming. Hot but with a nice breeze blowing, the two of them are in shorts and sneakers. Luanne decided on a black bra and white tank top for her visit. Jaime’s was the last place on earth where Luanne felt comfortable and somewhat normal. Jaime has on a hoody but her D breasts are not easily stashed away.

“It’s getting late Jaime… I have to go soon” said Luanne as she tapped out another cigarette from her friends pack, her 3rd that hour.
“Do you want to go to Sugarfoots tomorrow? I’ll give you a ride. I definitely saw a ‘help wanted’ sign. They would hire you in a second!” said Jaime, Luanne’s friend of a few years. Not as pretty as Luanne but built the same way and on par mentally.
“I don’t know. I guess. I hate waiting tables. It’s like being a servant. You have to be happy when you’re really not.”
Luanne was visibly troubled and her friend was getting worried. Luanne had been broken up with Lucky for two months. Even before her and Lucky hit the rough patch that led to their parting ways her attitude had been different. Not the happy, blissfully clueless, piece of southern thickness those who know her have come to expect and love. These last few months she’s always seemed preoccupied and when questioned dismissive and distant.
“Luanne, what’s wrong? You’re not being Luanne. Are you still hung up on Lucky?” asked Jaime.
“I don’t want to talk about it, Jaime.”
Jaime grew worried and decided to change the subject.
“So do you want to go to Luke’s Saturday night? He and his friends are crazy! We need to just wear next to nothing, go there, and show off. Then leave early. They’ll be so about us then we’ll just leave!” Jaime envisioned their victory and laughed. Her chest bouncing as she didn’t have any support on.
“I don’t know, maybe.” Luanne responded, blankly, as she finished another of her friend’s cigarettes.
Jaime was sure a wild night of flirting and showing off followed by an abrupt departure would be just what Luanne needed to get her back on the right track. She felt accomplished already. In the way that she and Luanne’s type often do as they envision their future through rose colored glasses.
“Alright, I gotta go. So you can give me a ride tomorrow?” asked Luanne, with a curious increase in vocal energy that Jaime could not explain.
“Anytime, just call. I’m off all day.”
Luanne made eye contact with Jaime for the first time in 15 minutes.
“You’re the best” said Luanne.
Jaime felt sad at that moment. It confused her as this small compliment should have lit her up. It didn’t and it was the way Luanne said it. As if it meant something more than a simple thank you. She stood up and squeezed Luanne tight. Their breasts each flowing outward as they tried to escape the pressure of the embrace.
“I love you girl… you know that right?” asked Jaime.
“Yea, I love you too Jaime. Mind if I take a cig for my walk home?”
“Take them. I have a carton in the fridge.”
“Thanks” Luanne responded, relieved. She squeezed back to equal Jaime’s embrace.

---
As Luanne walked home one thought, and one thought alone, was dominating her. She literally had to shake her head once in an attempt to push it away. The wind was calmer now. It was summer so kids were out playing hide and go seek. She saw a young boy find and start chasing a younger girl. The young girl was laughing uncontrollably as the boy tackled her onto the grass. Luanne was struck with a profound feeling of nostalgia. As she watched her steps she reminisced on her summer nights as a young girl running from boys. She tossed a cigarette butt into a drain. She crossed her arms under her breasts and her cleavage grew. The good memories of summers past were distorted then gone, replaced by a knot in her stomach. She had begun to hate her body. She hated that her breasts were so big. At one time they were such a source of confidence and pride. Now they disgusted her. As she thought about this she almost wanted to uncross her arms as she could not even stand indirectly touching them. She hated her golden blonde hair. A feature all of her girlfriends constantly said they wished they could have. “You can fucking have it” she thought. Anymore she just wore it in a lazy pony-tail. She hated her thick, round, protruding ass. Something most girls would hate but she loved once upon a time. An asset guys in her area were most keen on. She knew what she had and she flaunted it. Now, it was most decidedly a hate filled relationship. With her chest she could cover up, which she did when she was anywhere but at Jaime’s. But with her ass there was nothing she could do. All of her clothes were what they were. Short, tight, or revealing. In most cases all of the above. As she thought about her wardrobe she began to hate the girl she used to be. This caused her to tear up a little as the thought of hating ones younger and more innocent self is tremendously complicated and confusing. Luanne would never think on that sort of ‘meta’ level but she did know what she felt and it was weird. As she turned down the alley behind Rainy Street her steady pace was significantly slowed as her eyes met the yellow walls of the Hill residence off in the distance. Red truck parked in the driveway. For a second all thoughts and feelings were absent as if she were a deer in headlights. Slowly a feeling of dread surrounded her. She had been down this alley hundreds of times. If she had any talent in her hands she could draw it from memory. That said, for the past few months it has felt absolutely alien to her. She tightened the cross under her pale, ample boobs and began the final trek home. She was sick to her stomach now. She felt sweat beginning to accrue on her forehead. Her jaw was tight. Her hands were clenched. This all became apparent at once as she landed her first step on the driveway.
“Luanne!”
She felt as if she was hit on the back of her head as all the feeling of the past minute was instantly gone.
“Luanne look!”
She turned and looked towards the sound of her name. Bobby and Joseph were running toward her. Bobby was holding something in his hands.
“Bobby, what?” Luanne called out half in a daze having come from the mind state she was in.
“It’s a frog we found down by the Johnsons pond. Look how big it is!” Bobby cried.
Bobby and Joseph arrived at where Luanne was standing sweating and dirty. In Bobby’s hands was a rather massive green frog.
“Bobby that’s gross” Luanne said half aware.
“Do you think Dad will let it in the house?”
Luanne felt a quick jolt of electricity shoot from her head to her toes when Bobby mentioned him.
“I don’t know Bobby. Maybe you should let Joseph keep it tonight and find out in the morning. He might be sleeping” Said Luanne with ulterior motives for keeping him unbothered if at all possible.
Suddenly aware that he’s been mentioned by Luanne Joseph’s gaze was broken away from her thick round ass.
“Yea, my dad won’t care!” he stammered trying not to lose the image of Luanne’s deeply defined ass crack and underwear lines in her tight red cotton shorts.
“OK, Joseph. We can keep it at your house. But if my dad says it’s OK he’s moving in tomorrow! Now come on your mom got us hot pockets for the sleep over!” Bobby cried.
They both ran off towards Dale’s house. Joseph clumsily looking back at Luanne then disappearing behind his dads minivan. Luanne felt sick again as a result of seeing the dead insect on Dales truck. “He’s gross” she thought as she considered the type of guy who would have that on his truck. Then she turned and walked towards the sliding glass doors. Now sick to her stomach for another reason.

---

The light were on but nobody was in the kitchen. The thought had occurred to her to rip one final cigarette before she went in but at this point was numb and plus Aunt Peggy didn’t want her sneaking cigarettes in the back yard anymore. The numbness was slightly lessened at the thought of Aunt Peggy. Basically Luanne’s mom now she felt close to her but more on a friendship level. She thought Aunt Peggy was one of the most intelligent people in the world even though most of the world thought, while friendly in her own way, she was an over confident windbag. Suddenly Luanne became aware she was standing at the sliding glass door looking into the house but unable to open the door. She was temporarily frozen in time as she neither wanted to go in nor continue to stand there looking like a weirdo. As she began to raise her hand to the door the light went off in the kitchen. Luanne stood there with her hand on the door handle for a few seconds. Then she slowly opened it. There was no risk of creaking or grinding as he kept everything in perfect working order. This thought caused knot to return. She slowly closed the door behind her and locked it. As she walked to the doorway to the living room she could hear Aunt Peggy talking to herself. Something about “fixing something when he should be in bed”. The acute awareness that often goes with sneaking around suddenly fell out of her. Numbness was all that was left. He was awake. In the garage. The sweat returned to her forehead. She swallowed the lump in her throat. She didn’t want to talk to Aunt Peggy in this state so she waited in the dark kitchen until she heard Aunt Peggy in her bedrooms bathroom then slipped into her bedroom. She shut the door and leaned against it. No lock on the door. There used to be one until a few months ago. She started crying quietly. She sat down on her bed and took her shoes off. She had white ankle socks on with pink paws dotted throughout. She peeled off her red shorts and dropped them into her hamper. The white cotton underwear matched her socks. She slipped on Jaime’s Arlen High sweatpants and got under her covers. She felt exhausted from the mental anguish of the past hour. Foolishly she held onto a single hope as she always did at this moment. Laying on her side in her room in his house she hazily stared at the clock on her night stand. Cigarette smoke and winterfresh gum on her breath. The clock read 10:32 PM…

To be continued.

Is mental domination a thing? I'm a fat old whore with about as perverted a mind as one can get. I need somebody capable of getting deep inside my head and callous enough to mind fuck me with what he finds. Mind control? Brainwash? If you know how, you are welcome to try. Emotional Sadists, if you wish to get to know me enough to badly hurt me, I'll answer any question or tell you anything you want to know.

We believe, �From small beginnings come great things,� so we are looking for real and genuine people to make casual connections that have the very real possibility of turning into naughty, erotic nights.

About Us: We are two professional people exploring our sexual lives as Dominant and Submissive relationship together. She is in an open marriage and is the sweet Mistress of the couple. He is deeply humbled cuckold male longing to see her pleasured by the right men and women. His role is whatever his mistress deems is appropriate.

We are an experienced couple, and each of us have had separate third party or couple experiences, so you�re most certainly in good hands. Intelligent, well-read, quick witted, attractive, non-judgmental adults, we believe in the �Golden Rule� in and out of the bedroom.

Since we are a relatively new couple, we are looking to walk, before running, which means connecting with women and couples for boudoir fun � in both traditional (oral, voyeur, MFF, MMF) as well as light kinky fun (Sub/Dom/Bondage) scenarios. But most importantly, we are looking for drama free personalities, who are stable and comfortable in their own skin and sexuality. Oh, and connecting on a mental level is just as important, if not more,than the physical stuff. Casual, short-term and/or long-term play with a couple or female is in play. Though a single, impromptu night of fun isn�t totally out the question; has to be the right moment in time.

She: Firecracker with dark bedroom eyes, long reddish brown hair and voluptuous curves that you want to hold onto as well as a mouth that can tickle both your brain and, well, you know what else. Though only 5�3�, she�s an alpha female, who�s not afraid to ask for what she wants, but also enjoys aggressive play and submissive antics. Adept with mouth, hands and toys, both men and women enjoy her enthusiastic nature and genuine personality.

He: At 6�1�, he�s tall, and handsome.. An professional who loves seeing his mistress and her playmates pleasure before his own. Never pushy and always submissive, he makes sure everyone is fulfilled. His cuckold nature has him put follow her every word and command.

My Ideal Person: Honest, stable, real people, who are also smart, quick witted, comfortable in their own body and sexuality, and have a positive "we only have 1 life, so what the hell" attitude. We prefer women, men and couples who are bisexual, bi-curious and issue free.

Does not matter if you are single, married or BF/GF outside your marriage, all we ask is you leave your judgment and insecurities at the door and saddle up for some good old-fashioned fun, which means connecting first and seeing where things go from there.

As life-long learners and book sluts, it would be nice to meet individuals who are just intrigued by what�s going on in the real world as they are in the play/online world. For us that mental connection is huge. But we are visual creatures, so physical attraction on all parts (hey, we�re not perfect) is necessary. This means photos are important, for weighing initial attraction as well as for safety concerns.

Could you be are plus 1 or 2 or 3? We hope so.

Absolute no-nos:
Lying
Drugs
Diseases
Hot Heads
Jealousy
Drama Queens
Misogynists
Unsure or indecisive thinkers
Being Flakey

I confess, I am mentally owned and dominated by my ex-gf. We dated for about 6 months and broke up 2 years ago. I'm still madly in love with her and never cheated on her or did anything to hurt her. One day she just told me that it was time for us to "try something new". At first I thought she meant a threesome or something! To my horror, she was talking about us splitting up.

For about 6 months after we broke up, I was still trying to win her back. I would send her daughters birthday and christmas gifts and write to her often. Then one day she sent me an email with some pics attached. I opened it, expecting to see some pictures of her and the girls on a weekend trip to a park or something, but what she'd sent me instead were pics of her fuckin' some other guy. She's continued sending me pics about once a month, every time it's her fucking a different guy. I've thought about posting them here a few times, but I'm too pussy and still love her too much to do that.

But the fact is, she's trollin' me...she's trollin' my life. I'm sad bro :(

I confess that I cast a spell to win the lottery but found a treasure instead…
 It was not but before yesterday. The lottery jackpot was outrageously high. I had attempted earlier with my girlfriend to produce enough loosh to manifest some winning numbers. We yielded no positive results for lottery but I enjoyed our endeavors. 
 I knew if we were to stand a chance of creating any real Sex Magik, we would need more willing bodies. People that entertained a certain type of magical thinking. Likely of the Cluste-B variety..
 I created a new profile on a popular alternative hook-up app. The profile pics were nothing particularly spectacular, but I thought they communicated a certain air of a couple that were secure with themselves. The bio though, was a simple short blurb advertising my intent. I didn’t fuck around with straight couples or bullshit bicurious single males. I wanted cock and pussy. I was going to have a fucking full swap or an orgy.
 The bio detailed my plan. All participants agree upon a shared set of lottery numbers. We then set upon each other with carnal lust and the appropriate Will and invoke our manifestation. “Should we fail to produce the lottery numbers”, I penned, “we would still win in the end”.
 The last part was an extremely dry joke but it was brought up later. 
 I actually received quite a few responses but most were single men. Eventually I received a message from a person I will call Jack. Jack had wife named Jill. Jack started sending me pictures faster than I could send mine back. I was afraid I wasn’t sending enough of my gf and too many of my cocklet and I. Jack didn’t mind though. Jack thought that was just fine.
 We set up a place for the four of us to meet. I always vet people out before I stick my dick into them or their’s into me. I have a sensitive barometer for people I fucking hate and so I like to sniff new prospects out before I take them home or to a hotel.
 I had cleared the entire thing with my girlfriend before I ever ran the add on the bio but given the small community we live in, and the troubles we have had before in finding swinging bi couples, she was very surprised at how fast I had arranged such a meeting. It made her nervous for the entire day.
 My gf and I arrived at the agreed meeting place before Jack and Jill. It wasn’t quite six in the evening but it was already dark. The other couple were more than fashionable late. My gf was practically frantic from the anxiety she felt. She usually feels some anxiety on the first meeting when we swing but this was extraordinary. It highly uncharacteristic of her.
 When they arrived I suggested we all just pile into my truck for the warmth. Jack and Jill were agreeable to that and we all climbed inside the cab. Jack liked my truck and tried to engage me a little on the topic of diesel engines and vehicle models like mine. I fained little knowledge. I was more interested in fucking his hole. I mean, his wife was okay, but I liked this man from the moment I smelled him. But I would soon cum to see how very much, Jack was absolutely insane.
 At first, there was some back and forth between the four of us but it would not be long before Jack would rise to dominate the conversation totally and I was in awe at the spectacle of him. He was a juggernaut that could not be stopped. Holy shit. He was a bit shorter than me and had a muscular build. Probably procured through hard work rather than lifting weights. He wore a fleece cap but I expected a cowboy hat. He a chiseled jaw with a cleft chin. He was very handsome.
 Jill was closer to our age. She was probably your typical bpd nympho. A body of about  average but very large breasts. Scandinavian with Irish maybe? Doesn’t really matter, she had large breasts. Very fuckable in my book. Her fantasies were very dark I think. Definitely lots of psychological damage. Large breasts though. Jack would tweak on her nipples as I sometimes managed to chime in. It was very distracting in the most delicious of ways. Did I mention that her breasts were rather large? She wanted dicks rubbing together inside her. Actually I wanted that, but I knew she would have enjoyed it.
 Jack wasn’t a total dick though. He had method to his maddness. As he attempted to dazzle my gf and I with his strange stories and exploits of himself he left small oppenings. He found out quite a bit more than I tried to let on. He was much more cleaver than one might initially assume by his antics.
 Jack began to regail us with stories of killing, incest, rape, sex torture, squirting, marijuana omnitopical, drugs, his construction career, his pro-rodeo career , his porn career,he was a veteran,  how he hated his mom (I guess?), more incest,his ties to mafia, the finer points of leather stitching and yet more incest.
 Also, he only bottemed unless, “the dude was a chick”. My girlfriend looked right at me as he said that. I knew what she was thinking. I was thinking the same thing. 
 Actually, I was thinking about something totally different than her. I had been watching far too many youtube videos about people psychological problems. I had found out what type of crazy people with traits like myself find appealing. Jack was prime specimen of what is supposed to get my juices flowing. I think that youtube is right. 
 With every story, my gf became more and more apprehensive. They mentioned god 11 times. She counted. Every other story was a burning red flag. “These people are fucking kray kray!”, she said to me without speaking. Sure, the story about the squirting sex slave and tarp over the matress seemed funny at fist. But they sorta lost my gf’s interest when the said they had to beat the shit out of her and take her to a mental hospital. Because they cared. Fucking A. The story of the justified homicide did not help. 
 I knew there was no way this was going past the initial meeting between us. It was a shame. I was not sure if anything this person said was true. Pathological lying is hallmark of people with narcissistic traits. But Jack was broken in way that seemed very familiar to me. It could very well be that every story he told was crafted based on his perception of what he thought I might find interesting. It could also be that most if not all of what he said is a close approximation of reality. Chaos fills the lives of the people with traumas. Jack lived in another world at any rate.  
 We finally parted ways after two hours of Jack’s fantastic stories. Neither my girlfriend or I thought it wise to persue them but I harbor deep regrets. Jack being either human typhoon with bpd or a psychotic narcissist, makes no difference to me. The damage is the same. The sex is probably the best I will never know. I don’t even know why it would be so great. But I think it would. People say that it is. Who am I to gainsay them?
 I wanted to win a billion a dollars but instead I found a person that beyond any treasure that could compare. A person so beautifuly tortured that only I could see the true worth of. A person that would not bore me. A person that would probably murder me. A person whose emotional dis-regulation riviled my own I think. Probably eclipsing it. I am sure every day with Jack would be a whirlwind of passion and near death experiences. 
 I confess this Jack, should you ever read this and recognize me, I would have rocked your world like no fucking other. I would have made you cum with every hole I have. I would have fucked every hole of yours. I would have played every crazy mind game you set up for me. I would have made every pore of yours drip sweet and I would have drained your fucking balls. I would have fucked your body, destroyed your mind and raped your sole. You would have fragmented into a dozen or more pieces inside your mind and I would have fucked every one of them. You could have beaten me until my body was bruised and my will was broken. I could have broken you. It would have been fun. I would have saved you from god. You could have joined me with the devil. We could have found refuge in each other’s holes.
 Fuckit, I still have your number…
 

I wish I could find a man to take me, and break me to his will. I’m a submissive bottom and would love to be the toy of an older Dominate top.
A man that would feminize, and maybe even castrate me, to make me more submissive.
A man that would fuck what ever hole he wants to use and leave me filled, or covered with his cum.
A man that will in short, make me what he wants me to be physically, mentally, and emotionally.

I wrote a KotH fan fic years ago then forgot about it. Just added a part 2. Enjoy!

Nights in Arlen
A KotH sex story
By: null

It was about 9:30 PM on a Tuesday night in Arlen, TX. Luanne Platter and her friend Jaime are sat on Jaime’s 2nd floor apartment balcony. Not a big place at all but Jaime kept it clean and welcoming. Hot but with a nice breeze blowing, the two of them are in shorts and sneakers. Luanne decided on a black bra and white tank top for her visit. Jaime’s was the last place on earth where Luanne felt comfortable and somewhat normal. Jaime has on a hoody but her D breasts are not easily stashed away.

“It’s getting late Jaime… I have to go soon” said Luanne as she tapped out another cigarette from her friends pack, her 3rd that hour.
“Do you want to go to Sugarfoots tomorrow? I’ll give you a ride. I definitely saw a ‘help wanted’ sign. They would hire you in a second!” said Jaime, Luanne’s friend of a few years. Not as pretty as Luanne but built the same way and on par mentally.
“I don’t know. I guess. I hate waiting tables. It’s like being a servant. You have to be happy when you’re really not.”
Luanne was visibly troubled and her friend was getting worried. Luanne had been broken up with Lucky for two months. Even before her and Lucky hit the rough patch that led to their parting ways her attitude had been different. Not the happy, blissfully clueless, piece of southern thickness those who know her have come to expect and love. These last few months she’s always seemed preoccupied and when questioned dismissive and distant.
“Luanne, what’s wrong? You’re not being Luanne. Are you still hung up on Lucky?” asked Jaime.
“I don’t want to talk about it, Jaime.”
Jaime grew worried and decided to change the subject.
“So do you want to go to Luke’s Saturday night? He and his friends are crazy! We need to just wear next to nothing, go there, and show off. Then leave early. They’ll be so about us then we’ll just leave!” Jaime envisioned their victory and laughed. Her chest bouncing as she didn’t have any support on.
“I don’t know, maybe.” Luanne responded, blankly, as she finished another of her friend’s cigarettes.
Jaime was sure a wild night of flirting and showing off followed by an abrupt departure would be just what Luanne needed to get her back on the right track. She felt accomplished already. In the way that she and Luanne’s type often do as they envision their future through rose colored glasses.
“Alright, I gotta go. So you can give me a ride tomorrow?” asked Luanne, with a curious increase in vocal energy that Jaime could not explain.
“Anytime, just call. I’m off all day.”
Luanne made eye contact with Jaime for the first time in 15 minutes.
“You’re the best” said Luanne.
Jaime felt sad at that moment. It confused her as this small compliment should have lit her up. It didn’t and it was the way Luanne said it. As if it meant something more than a simple thank you. She stood up and squeezed Luanne tight. Their breasts each flowing outward as they tried to escape the pressure of the embrace.
“I love you girl… you know that right?” asked Jaime.
“Yea, I love you too Jaime. Mind if I take a cig for my walk home?”
“Take them. I have a carton in the fridge.”
“Thanks” Luanne responded, relieved. She squeezed back to equal Jaime’s embrace.

---

As Luanne walked home one thought, and one thought alone, was dominating her. She literally had to shake her head once in an attempt to push it away. The wind was calmer now. It was summer so kids were out playing hide and go seek. She saw a young boy find and start chasing a younger girl. The young girl was laughing uncontrollably as the boy tackled her onto the grass. Luanne was struck with a profound feeling of nostalgia. As she watched her steps she reminisced on her summer nights as a young girl running from boys. She tossed a cigarette butt into a drain. She crossed her arms under her breasts and her cleavage grew. The good memories of summers past were distorted then gone, replaced by a knot in her stomach. She had begun to hate her body. She hated that her breasts were so big. At one time they were such a source of confidence and pride. Now they disgusted her. As she thought about this she almost wanted to uncross her arms as she could not even stand indirectly touching them. She hated her golden blonde hair. A feature all of her girlfriends constantly said they wished they could have. “You can fucking have it” she thought. Anymore she just wore it in a lazy pony-tail. She hated her thick, round, protruding ass. Something most girls would hate but she loved once upon a time. An asset guys in her area were most keen on. She knew what she had and she flaunted it. Now, it was most decidedly a hate filled relationship. With her chest she could cover up, which she did when she was anywhere but at Jaime’s. But with her ass there was nothing she could do. All of her clothes were what they were. Short, tight, or revealing. In most cases all of the above. As she thought about her wardrobe she began to hate the girl she used to be. This caused her to tear up a little as the thought of hating ones younger and more innocent self is tremendously complicated and confusing. Luanne would never think on that sort of ‘meta’ level but she did know what she felt and it was weird. As she turned down the alley behind Rainy Street her steady pace was significantly slowed as her eyes met the yellow walls of the Hill residence off in the distance. Red truck parked in the driveway. For a second all thoughts and feelings were absent as if she were a deer in headlights. Slowly a feeling of dread surrounded her. She had been down this alley hundreds of times. If she had any talent in her hands she could draw it from memory. That said, for the past few months it has felt absolutely alien to her. She tightened the cross under her pale, ample boobs and began the final trek home. She was sick to her stomach now. She felt sweat beginning to accrue on her forehead. Her jaw was tight. Her hands were clenched. This all became apparent at once as she landed her first step on the driveway.
“Luanne!”
She felt as if she was hit on the back of her head as all the feeling of the past minute was instantly gone.
“Luanne look!”
She turned and looked towards the sound of her name. Bobby and Joseph were running toward her. Bobby was holding something in his hands.
“Bobby, what?” Luanne called out half in a daze having come from the mind state she was in.
“It’s a frog we found down by the Johnsons pond. Look how big it is!” Bobby cried.
Bobby and Joseph arrived at where Luanne was standing sweating and dirty. In Bobby’s hands was a rather massive green frog.
“Bobby that’s gross” Luanne said half aware.
“Do you think Dad will let it in the house?”
Luanne felt a quick jolt of electricity shoot from her head to her toes when Bobby mentioned him.
“I don’t know Bobby. Maybe you should let Joseph keep it tonight and find out in the morning. He might be sleeping” Said Luanne with ulterior motives for keeping him unbothered if at all possible.
Suddenly aware that he’s been mentioned by Luanne Joseph’s gaze was broken away from her thick round ass.
“Yea, my dad won’t care!” he stammered trying not to lose the image of Luanne’s deeply defined ass crack and underwear lines in her tight red cotton shorts.
“OK, Joseph. We can keep it at your house. But if my dad says it’s OK he’s moving in tomorrow! Now come on your mom got us hot pockets for the sleep over!” Bobby cried.
They both ran off towards Dale’s house. Joseph clumsily looking back at Luanne then disappearing behind his dads minivan. Luanne felt sick again as a result of seeing the dead insect on Dales truck. “He’s gross” she thought as she considered the type of guy who would have that on his truck. Then she turned and walked towards the sliding glass doors. Now sick to her stomach for another reason.

---

The light were on but nobody was in the kitchen. The thought had occurred to her to rip one final cigarette before she went in but at this point was numb and plus Aunt Peggy didn’t want her sneaking cigarettes in the back yard anymore. The numbness was slightly lessened at the thought of Aunt Peggy. Basically Luanne’s mom now she felt close to her but more on a friendship level. She thought Aunt Peggy was one of the most intelligent people in the world even though most of the world thought, while friendly in her own way, she was an over confident windbag. Suddenly Luanne became aware she was standing at the sliding glass door looking into the house but unable to open the door. She was temporarily frozen in time as she neither wanted to go in nor continue to stand there looking like a weirdo. As she began to raise her hand to the door the light went off in the kitchen. Luanne stood there with her hand on the door handle for a few seconds. Then she slowly opened it. There was no risk of creaking or grinding as he kept everything in perfect working order. This thought caused knot to return. She slowly closed the door behind her and locked it. As she walked to the doorway to the living room she could hear Aunt Peggy talking to herself. Something about “fixing something when he should be in bed”. The acute awareness that often goes with sneaking around suddenly fell out of her. Numbness was all that was left. He was awake. In the garage. The sweat returned to her forehead. She swallowed the lump in her throat. She didn’t want to talk to Aunt Peggy in this state so she waited in the dark kitchen until she heard Aunt Peggy in her bedrooms bathroom then slipped into her bedroom. She shut the door and leaned against it. No lock on the door. There used to be one until a few months ago. She started crying quietly. She sat down on her bed and took her shoes off. She had white ankle socks on with pink paws dotted throughout. She peeled off her red shorts and dropped them into her hamper. The white cotton underwear matched her socks. She slipped on Jaime’s Arlen High sweatpants and got under her covers. She felt exhausted from the mental anguish of the past hour. Foolishly she held onto a single hope as she always did at this moment. Laying on her side in her room in his house she hazily stared at the clock on her night stand. Cigarette smoke and winterfresh gum on her breath. The clock read 10:32 PM…

>Part 2<

There was a tap at the window. Luanne cast a hazy look towards the sound.
“Luanne!”
She had not gained focus yet as she slowly rolled to a seated position and rubbed her eyes.
“Luanne! It’s Lucky! Come to the window.”
The voice of her ex-boyfriend somehow filled her with joy. She walked over to the window.
“Luanne… I’m an idiot. I nearly lost the best thing in my life. And for what? A bunch of losers? I need you back, Luanne. Will you come away with me?”

Luanne was filled with warmth and hope. She climbed out the window and into Lucky’s outstretched arms. He ran with her to his 4x4 and shut the door. Luanne was absolutely beaming. She was about to crank up the radio when she noticed the display looked weird. It looked like a digital clock. Slowly but deliberately her dream faded and she returned to reality. She had been looking at her clock. 11:17 PM…

As the hope and joy of her dream melted away it was replaced by the cold dread of her dark bedroom. As her mind made the transition she leaned up. There was light coming from underneath the door way. He was still awake. Luanne sat frozen. Listening for any sound. She thought she could hear something but then realized it was her own heartbeat. Pounding in her chest.

“Calm down, Luanne” she thought to herself. “He just forgot to turn off the light.” She could hope.

As she continued to sit there in silence a lack of any sound had a calming effect. Was she in the clear? The second she allowed her anxiety to relent she heard the garage door open. A cold pall was cast over her. Her only reaction was to silently lay back down and curl up. Her pounding heart the singular focus. As it began to echo in her ears all fell silent when she heard her door open. No sound. No feeling. Only the black of her eyelids. It felt like hours to Luanne before she heard her door close. As she listened to him walk to her bedside the chill turned to the feeling of insects crawling up her back. It was all she could do to not physically brush away the feeling he had draped upon her. Heart pounding again.
He stood at her bedside for a full minute. Looking at his prize. The line of her ample body causing his manhood to press against his jeans. He took one final swig from his Alamo can and put it on her bed table. Luanne heard the jangle of his belt as he removed his pants. As ants on her back were now biting her the knowledge of what was about to happen nearly drove her to vomit. She swallowed hard as he slunk under her blanket and pressed his throbbing dick against her. He wrapped his arms around her stomach and began to grind into her large ass. It was at this time that the cold sweat came and all feeling was gone. If Luanne had a mind she would understand that this was a defense mechanism to help her cope with the extreme nature of her predicament. But alas, she does not. However, what was undeniable was the feeling of nothingness that washed over her. He was now holding her hips as he pressed his penis in-between her legs as best as he could while still clothed. He liked the pressure. After a few minutes, another pressure was too much to bear. He removed his boxers. Slid her sweat pants down to her knees and placed his throttled member in-between the soft upper part of her thick thighs. He could feel the involuntary wetness develop through her white cotton panties as he started to dry hump her. Luanne could smell the mixture of his constant bad breath and stale Alamo beer creep down her face as he began to lick her neck and ear. She began to tear up as his hands moved across her stomach to her breasts. He began to fondle her breasts over the bra. As he kneaded her breasts he began to moan in her ear.

“I love you, Luanne” he stammered out as he continued his assault.

The mixture of precum and pussy juice had become audible with his thrusts. Sensing he was close he slowed down. He ran his hands over her stomach back to her thighs. He rubbed them over then moved one hand down to her pussy. The fact that the whole area was moist filled his entire being with excitement and a warped sense of connection to Luanne. “She is enjoying this” he thought to himself. He gently pushed her to the side as he removed her sweatpants and panties. As he laid back down beside her flat on his back he took a deep whiff of the mess she had made in her panties. The unmistakable smell filled him with carnal lust. He adjusted so that he was sitting with his back to the head board and she was sat in-between his legs facing away.

“Luanne? Luanne… are you awake?” he whispered.
Luanne began to cry. The soft whimpers driving Hank Hill to near sexual insanity. He gathered himself.
“Luanne… hold your arms up.” A request that was always made and never followed.

He removed her shirt unassisted and pulled her towards him so that she was sitting on top of his engorged member. Driving it into her mattress. Softly he draped his hands over the top of her breasts and moved up and down over her bra. Hank liked the last little barrier. Soon it was more than he could take. He pushed her forward slightly and unclasped her bra. He moved the straps off her shoulders but was careful not to let it fall off the front. In one fluid motion, he moved his hands from the top of her breasts down. The bra fell to her lap and he fondled her heavy breasts. His fingers rising one by one as he dragged them over her large puffy nipples. Her whimpers became quiet crying. After a few minutes of groping her chest and kissing her neck one of his hands came up to wipe her tears. Her whole face was covered. This made Hank insatiable. He gently twisted her head to the side and began licking the tears from her cheek. Moved to the other side and cleaned that as well. The stink of his drying saliva altering Luanne’s perception. The salty taste in his mouth was the limit. He pushed her slightly forward at the hips and his dick popped straight up. He spun her around so that she was facing him, put her lifeless arms over his shoulders, and pulled her into him. Her chubby pussy lips were now wrapped around the base of his shaft. The heat from it surprised him. He began to involuntarily grind into her. Luanne was looking down, eyes closed, sobbing. Tears dripping from the bottom of her chin onto her breasts. He placed his hands on the side of her face and pulled up. Her eyes would not meet his.

“Luanne? Uncle Hank loves you. You know that, right?”
Luanne answered with question with more quiet crying.
“Luanne? I don’t want to hurt you. I want to love you. You’ll let me love you, right?”

He did not wait for an answer as his putrid tongue was thrust into her mouth. He began to grunt has his tongue made love to her throat. He had now moved his hands down to her ass cheeks so he could slide her dripping wet cunt up and down his shaft.

“Oh god, Luanne” he stammered as he began to feast on her neck and chin.

It was in this moment that awareness clumsily returned to her. It had never gone this far before. Never this intense. Luanne bravely ventured a quick a look into his eyes and he was not there. They were lifeless. Like a dolls eyes. She had to do something. She had to make a decision. To save the one shred of dignity she had left…

As he was mindlessly grinding her and the pace quickened she whispered, “…Uncle Hank?”

The sound of her whisper somehow shattered through him as he looked up at her.

“Uncle Hank…” she whimpered as she gulped down the putrid mix of his saliva and hers, face breaking out because of all his bacteria.
“…I’ll love you back if you’ll let me, Uncle Hank.”
The statement threw Hank Hill’s mentality for a loop. As he searched for words he noticed her arms slightly tighten behind his neck. It was all he could do to speak.
“How do you want to love me, Luanne?” he asked as he slowly began to grind again.
“Like this…” and with that she began to slowly counter his gyrations.

At this point Luanne stopped crying. Any thought aside from the void caused from being molested by her uncle was a light in the darkness.
Effecting an innocent Texas twang as best she could she asked, “Can we ‘jus rub ‘em together? As she softly but assuredly began to pick up the pace. All in the hope that agreeable vulnerability would calm his carnal lust.

Normally, this is not how Hank Hill operates He needs absolute control. Absolute dominance. But the magnitude of her request had pierced him. Had he finally broken her? These “sessions” have been escalating and getting dangerous. If she had succumbed to him, he had to play his hand right so he didn’t upset the delicate balance.

“Yes, baby. We can.” He answered as he slid down flat on his back.

Luanne wiped her nose with her arm, leaned forward over her uncle so that her heavy breasts were hanging down over him, and began working her hips. Slowly grinding her cunt up and down the length of her uncle’s big dick. Hank Hill had left himself again. Only this time he was in a haze of infatuation. Secure in the fact that he had broken her. She was his. He reached up and cupped her breasts in his hands. Pulled her down slightly and began to suck on her puffy nipples. Popping them as he released her large areolas. As he was tonguing her breasts the sickness returned to Luanne. As with any trauma, being present in the moment invites the pain to come rushing in. She had to end this quickly. She began to roll her wide hips and press down into her uncle’s rock hard erection. Suddenly he stopped sucking her breasts. She cast a quick glance at her uncle and his eyes were closed. He began to gyrate into her deliberately. He grabbed her large warm ass cheeks with his hands and pressed her into him even harder.

Her uncle breathlessly spoke, “Oh baby. Keep loving me.”
His ass was now rising off the bed as his pelvis lifted her with each thrust. So much so that she had fallen forward and they were chest to chest.
“Oh Luanne… oh, God! I’m cumming baby!” he choked out as four ropes of her uncles hot cum forced its way in-between them.

Involuntarily, Luanne rose up off him and the cum began to drop down her stomach. As it began to reach the top of her pussy she cupped in with her hand. She looked at her uncle. His eyes were closed and he had a tired smile on his face. She stayed straddling him. Afraid to move. She silently moved her hand up her stomach to get the rest of her uncle’s sperm off her body and into her hand then wiped it into the comforter. As she did that he looked up at her.

“You’ve made your uncle very happy, Luanne.”

And with that he leaned off her bed. Bent down and put on his jeans. The reality of watching him put on his jeans. The hairy legs and the jangle of the buckle was too much for Luanne. The vomit rushed up her throat and into her mouth. She clenched her lips as tight as she could. Mercifully, her uncle did not look back and silently left her room. Luanne stayed motionless on her knees on the bed. Nose and eyes running from the acidic vomit that had filled her mouth. She listened as she heard the familiar sounds of his “after session” bathroom sounds. As she heard the click of their bedroom door she rushed to the window, threw it open, and let the vomit shoot out of her mouth. Two more rushes after that. When she was done she dropped to her knees and openly wept in the corner of her room. The confusion of what had happened. The absolute disgust at what she did to avoid worse. The panging dread at what she would have to do in the future. All this mental anguish was cascading over her and breaking her soul.

After a few minutes, she got up from the floor. She put on her sweatpants. “Jaime” she thought hazily as the tears rolled down her face. Slunk to the bathroom and showered. Slunk back to her bedroom. Ripped all the blankets and pillows off her bed then laid down in her towel.

As she regained focus she saw the can of Alamo on her night stand. She smashed if off and saw her clock.

12:31 AM.

To be continued.

I'm just a guy who some girls and women think is good with words. I lean toward dominant, and find subs generally more attractive than fighters. We talk and maybe you're excited, maybe you're not. If so, trade for pics/vids/cam time. If not, we can just chat about the weather, or stop talkin all together. Faves: Young, Incest, Forced, (some) beast or BDSM. Less favored: Scat, Gore, (other) beast or BDSM. Most everything else falls in the middle and is definitely fair game, especially if its something that would interest you. I have a cam as well, but some people just want the mental stimulation so I don't even need to turn it on if you'd prefer I didn't.

There are so many misconceptions about BDSM Relationships and so much more to it than many people think. And, yes, for some people, it is just about kinky sex! The Vanilla World people can see it as just plain weird or even think that BDSM Lifestylers are kinky freaks.

BDSM is all about the fulfillment of deep and primal needs. It is an act of love, commitment and trust.

It is not all about Sex. BDSM can be sexual, if a couple chooses it to be, but it's about so much more than the sex. A couple in the lifestyle could sustain their entire relationship without ever having sex in any fashion.

Many people just getting into the BDSM lifestyle may have had very limited experiences and dealing with other people who are into BDSM. Their ideas and experiences are often limited. These making many people new to the lifestyle have some very "unrealistic expectations" about "how to behave" and "how others might treat them."

A true Dom/Domme is someone male or female who chooses to create a structured relationship in which a submissive is required to adhere to the Dom/Domme' rules and standards. This level of relationship normally only comes after "long periods of trust and understanding that has been built between the two", though there are exceptions.

In the BDSM community, those that are perceived of as "want-to-be" Dominants typically throw around the term or title of Dom/Dommee for themselves. Many guys and girls choose to be addressed as such by their submissive and that is their prerogative, though it does not make them �A Dom or Domme of the lifestyle�

Simply being Dominant does not mean that a human has the mental tools necessary to understand the submissive psyche to successfully dominate them.

That being said�

There are two main forms of BDSM:

Lifestyle BDSM - This is the form where partners embed BDSM elements in their relationship in some way.

Kink or fetish (bedroom) BDSM - This is the form where people, occasionally, seek to use power elements, predominantly for their sexual pleasure, without turning it into a lifestyle.

Quite often people grow from "kink" to "lifestyle� with the complete understanding of BDSM through education and experience.

Those who don't understand the lifestyle, can't tell you what it's truly about and those who have had bad experiences will focus on the bad and forget any good that they had. If you truly want to learn about the BDSM lifestyle, one needs to find someone who has been part of the lifestyle in an active role. There are a lot of fakers out there who will tell you that they are into BDSM, or part of the lifestyle but have never seen the inside of a dungeon or seen the true joys of a scene.

Ok, i feel i need to go about this very specifically due to basic fears and preconceptions round here.

I have a question for a specific group that lurks about here. Before i ask it, dear god. Keep it civil, no visual aids, no links, and on both sides please no primal psycho rage.

My question is simply, Why?

stay with me now. This gets a little between the lines, anti's just stay mellow, it's still illegal and zero tolerance, folks in question don't get too into... well actually i dont' get quite what but try and treat it as a clinical question if you can.

I understand that this may get a bit uh, weird. But let's try to keep the visceral language and finger pointing to a minimum.

and yes i'm ducking the direct question because i'm a pussy. Now that we've cleared the air on that let's move on.

My question has been established. Why?

My confusion comes from my own perspective and capacity for inference.

Your preferred group, biologically, are basically old-sex. I can't tell if one is male or female save for the color scheme on their clothes.

Being as they are sexless i remain confused as to the appeal. Stay calm.

Personally i believe any person has the right to do whatever the fudge they want in a darkened room wherein nobody realizes they exist in the first place. Which isn't a jab, it's exactly what i mean.

You want to smoke meth, shoot heroin, hold pet beauty pageants or have your mailman strangle you with a designer gator skin belt while you beat off to vintage cartoon characters; go for it.

Admittedly, the only reason i won't include it on that list is i feel certain folks would focus on that and lose sight of the question i'm asking.

I will say this. So long as it's legal to masturbate yourself into a rage-gasm over murder scene and autopsy photos it may as well be legal to beat off to any old-existing evidence of human horror. Dude didn't murder any one, he just got way too into the photos proving it happened. It creeps me out, but whatever. No one said he has to be within a square mile of anyone i want to keep from him.

If i'm going to be self appointed thought police, however, then kill me now.

I've made peace with many other lifestyles, or mental illness or mutations or doctrines or fuck you get over yourselves that many people take to the grave, but this one just makes no sense to me at all.

The God freaks of any brand are afraid of being punished or positive they will be rewarded. In either case, because of others.

Druggies are addicted, biochemically and subsequently psychologically dependant.

Gays are just gay. period.

Beasties are demented, but i can make peace purely on the sense of ignorance. If It's legal to grind animals into big macs and tasteless clothes, it's legal to fuck them.

But this thing seems basically rooted in predatory mentality. i may be wrong but that's why i ask.

even serial killers admit to being basically sexually obsessed. Stay cool.

I'm not saying you are all rapists or cannibals or predators. It does however seem that the exclusive proprietors of your content are.

At that point i get back to the crime scene photos. That's basically what your content seems to be. Evidence of a crime. I'm no johnny law. i smoke my reefer and abide selectively like any American (hold it against me if you must i make no apology for being born at random), but i can't see past the victimization.

Is it a power trip? like a rape fantasy that has fallen so low on dominance that it manifests itself in this way? Comments here on motherless for the so called "weak stuff" seem to imply that dominance, pain and victimization are tantamount to the appeal.

If so, then at that point you lose me. I'm no stranger to the potentials of human cruelty, but there seems to be an outcry from your group that this is not your motivation, meanwhile others in your community seem to state otherwise. Quite directly in fact.

I'm neither looking to be sold on it, nor dissuaded. I have my sexual identity quite intact. I myself find sexual delight in plump to simply put fat ass white women, I'm simply confused and at a loss.

Further, the only reason i feel it warrants such discussion at all is the fact that it seems such a perpetual pervasive issue not just here, but anywhere a person doesn't have to own it right up front.

oh well, fuck it. I asked the question; do with it what you will. Even if that is nothing. Our own eyes are upon us, no greater authority matters.

If you have an honest opinion of your own, feel free to share. If you're looking to go to war either for or against, Then that topic already exists.

If at this point you have no idea what i'm talking about, what are you even doing here when you could be beating off to titties or making racist comments?

Maybe i'm wasting my time. Later wankers.