I am a white male a I think black men are the superior race. I think we should give them all are white women to fuck and breed with. I think this world should be ruled by the black man and all the white men should be forced to be there sissy sex slave. here is a link to the new world order run by the black man. http://www.blacknewworldorder.com/home.html

Mail Order Bride: My Experiences
This is probably going to be a long read.
I'm not sure if anyone on this site has delved into mail order brides, but if you've got the money and you're lonely - it's not the worst thing in the world to do. I've always had several fetishes for oriental and even Russian ladies. So after grieving for a few years after my wife left me for another woman (yes, that fucked with me in so many ways), I decided to try the dating scene. I'd make matches, sometimes even hook up with the lady but nothing really ever clicked enough for me to have a long term relationship with the women. It was date, fuck, on to the next. It got old fast and I was looking for something more, looking for a woman that was actually in to me. So one day I decided to try it.

The sign up fees are stupid and can range from $70 - $200 a month depending on the package you select. I figured I'd make quick work out of it and find someone I was interested in and exchange personal information with them. SO I signed up.
A lot of these girls look like 10/10 models - they all have professional pictures taken and I was like "well I just got scammed, they're all fake as fuck." Seeing all of these flawless women was a bit of a turn off for me - being in my late 40s, I knew I wasn't a bad looking guy but these women - all of them were way out of my league and I had my doubts, especially because I know a majority of them are after citizenship. I felt like I made a big mistake.
I contacted a couple of the ladies, usually didn't get a response. One day I logged in and this very attractive Filipino lady left me a message, just saying "Hi. Saw your profile."
I went to her profile and looked at her pictures, and just kinda shook my head.
I was talking to other women on there, but nothing really panned out. A lot of them barely spoke English.
So I chatted her up. I told her that we had an obvious age difference, and that I didn't know if she'd be comfortable with that. She replied back, "Most Filipina ladies like older men, it's kind of a cultural thing. I like older white men."
So we hit it off. We decided to exchange personal details and I called her up and we'd talk on Skype too. We'd laugh, joke, and just talk about everything under the sun - including her past relationships. She was engaged to be married but the guy got another woman pregnant and the marriage was cancelled. She talked about some of her boyfriends being abused and drinking all the time. She told me about her parents and how she moved out of the house at a young age and supports herself by having a masters degree in economics and works in Manilla and helps with city planning. We talked for months and months. We'd get intimate on Skype, she'd start fingering her pussy, moaning that she wished I was inside her.
"When are you coming, or should I come visit you?" she asked.
My heart raced. So I made plans to take off work for a week and fly out to the Philippines. It's a long flight and I couldn't even sleep - but when I got on the ground I got off the plane, and went outside the airport and called her. She was waiting for me and saw me standing by the road, and honked her horn. She got out of her car and ran up to me, gave me a great big hug and kissed me on the lips. Holy fuck she looked better than her pictures, she could have easily been a model. I loaded my luggage in her car and hopped in the passenger seat. I'm used to order, at least somewhat order - but driving in the Philippines scared the ever fuck out of me. It was very unnerving. From nice paved roads to roads cratered with massive potholes then to dirt roads - we finally made it to her small house that she was renting. We talked all the way to her place, I was so shocked I finally got to meet her - because I didn't feel like it would ever happen.
I was nervous and didn't want to push myself on her, I was worried that maybe I was ugly to her in person.
We got inside, and she made me feel right at home.
"You must be hungry! I cooked this yesterday for you, I'll heat it up, and I'll get you some tea!"
She spoke perfect English, with a small accent from Tagalog.
I told her not to worry. I felt a bit nervous - all the discussions we had, all the cybersex we had - I felt out of place.
She called me over to her small little kitchen table and had a plate prepared for me, with hot peppers, fish and some other ingredients. I have no idea what it's called (even to this day).
"You said you like spicy babe," she said smiling.
I took a few bites. My mouth was on fire, tears ran down my face.
"Holy fuck!" I said, "It's perfect."
She giggled, and her small firm chest bounced at bit. She caught me looking.
"Now now, there's enough time for that later. You still think I'm attractive right? I was so worried that you wouldn't think I'm attractive... "
I looked at her, "You're beautiful, absolutely stunning. Of course I'm attracted to you - physically and mentally. Hopefully I'm not ugly to you..."
Her eyes widened, "Oh, you're fucking hot dude, I'm still very interested in you!"
So we watched some TV, she obviously was horny, as I held her hand she guided me down her shorts to reveal a shaved and dripping wet pussy.
I haven't had sex in a long time. I didn't last long at all. Just how tight she was, how perfect her body was, and how beautifully she looked right into my eyes while I was inside her. I felt her touch my soul so deeply.
"I always imagined this moment, just like this..." she said, smiling.
"Oh, I thought I'd last a lot longer than I did, it's your turn to cum..."
She moaned as she played with my cum dripping out of her swollen pussy. Her fingers spread her dark brown pussy lips aside, showing a beautiful pink inside, as white dribbles of my sperm leaked onto her couch.
My mouth found her small supple tits, licking and sucking - I worked my way down to her dripping shaved pussy, and started massaging her clit with my tongue.
She moaned and grabbed a fist full of my hair, pulling me closer as her hips moved back and forth as I ate her out.
"I'll always be yours, I love you..." she moaned.
"I love you too," I said taking a quick breath.
She began to buck and moan, "Fuck..." she whispered, releasing my hair from her grip.
"I'm not going to want to leave you here," I admitted.
It got late, we ate dinner and went to bed. We fucked again before falling asleep.
We were to lovers who seemed obsessed. She took the week off of work so she could show me the sites around Manilla.
While she took me around to see the sites, something popped into my head - "just marry her already."
I went into a jewelry store by myself (she had errands to run) and got her a nice engagement ring.
The next time she took me out on the town, there was this big beautiful fountain (not sure of the name of it) and I got down on one knee.
"You bring so much life to me, my mind body and soul would ache without you being in my life, will you marry me?"
Her eyes widened, and she looked right into my eyes. There was an uncomfortable silence which seemed to last for an eternity.
"Of course I'll marry you!"
People around us clapped and congratulated us.
I didn't know how easy it was to get married in the Philippines. It's almost like Vegas but without Elvis overseeing your vows.
We fucked every single day, sometimes twice to three times in the same day. We discussed that she was going to quit her job and move with me to the USA. So I helped her pack a lot of her stuff in boxes and we mailed the boxes to my address. She talked to her landlord who owned the property and told them she was leaving at the end of the week, so she can move to the USA with her husband.
The landlord congratulated her and wished her well.
I've been married to her for 15 years and she is still the most amazing woman I've ever met in my life.
We've had 2 kids together and her body snapped right back into shape. She's as beautiful as ever. A timeless beauty. So yeah. Sometimes those crazy mail order bride sites actually work.

I really like being dominated if you couldn't tell from previous posts, but one of my favourite things to do is to be taken control of even while they are not here, I had a task recently and i thought I'd share it with you.
So, i left my flat, both dildos in hand, they're the lifelike 10 inch dildos you can get and they're amazing beyond words, naked as the day i was born, stuck them to the ground and lay down, positioning them perfectly so i could lean across on my side and suck one off and pick up the other and plunge it into myself.
I knocked the door of the flat with two guys and showed them the message saying i was going to show by invitation only, phones to be left behind in their flat, they jumped at the chance and came outside, i knocked the door of the door opposite mine and told him too, showing the message and he looked at me, the dildos and the two guys stood watching and came out too. It was 23:15, I didn’t want to waste anytime, my pussy already wet but i thought i could use some help so i lubed up one of the dildos while on my knees, ass facing them and wiggling about some, them standing and giving me encouragement as if i was jerking someone off.
I lay on my side on the cold floor, nipples hard, i looked up at them as i took the dildo into my mouth, licking the tip and up and down beforehand of course, sucking the head of it lovingly, closing my eyes and enjoying the experience. I massaged my clit as i did this, playing away with it and then reached for the dildo and spread my legs open and introduced the incredibly large thick thing back to my pussy where it was earlier, slowly pushing it in all the way, them watching keenly, a front row seat to it all and seeing it disappear inside me, the dildo in my mouth disappearing too as if it were a magic trick, i held myself all the way down and gagged on it, saliva dripping from my lips and down to the balls of the dildo that were only centimetres away, i pushed myself back down and my chin touched the balls, i held myself down there for a thirty count, pushing the dildo into my pussy as hard as i could, not wanting to let it out, wanting it to become a part of me almost.
I lay there deepthroating the dildo, lifting my head up and down, never letting my lips leave it, only the tip was the furthest I’d be willing to go, my pussy savouring every stroke in and out of it, the dildo spreading it so wide and the veins rippling inside me, pleasuring every point it past on its journey in and out. My body was loving every second of it, tingling all over, i knew what’s was coming, i looked up and they were stood watching, not far apart, wanking away, I lay on my back and pulled the dildo off the floor and sucked on it as I fucked my mouth and pussy, I lay there on the cold ground in ecstasy, my pussy ready to release, I pulled the dildo out of my mouth and left it on my stomach and focused lower and fucked myself into an orgasm, continuing on for the extra bit to spray some of myself around, and luckily it came.
​I gushed out some of myself and it hit the dildo as I pulled it out and it hit my legs and dropped down.
I lay there, panting, trying to catch my breath and looking up at the light before me, it could’ve easily been the end, and if it was, what a way to go, but my eyes caught the world around me in that small space, and I saw smiles on the faces of my admirers so I messaged my tits and pussy for them, pushing three fingers into myself, dildos cast aside for the night, if had my fun with them for the night, half an hour like that was plenty, I kept letting my hands roam around and find every last part they could reach, then one by one they said they were ready to cum, I leaned up as they got to their knees and I kept my mouth open for them, playing with my nipples the whole time, taking their lovely warm white seed in my mouth, every drop a gift that I gladly accepted, not touching their cocks at all, it was against my orders given to me.
I leaned back and showed them my mouth, then closed it and swished it around for a couple of seconds and then swallowed it, showing it to them.
I rolled over onto my stomach, I could’ve slept there I was so comfortable, my body had heated the tile floor beneath me, I pushed my ass up into the air, my hands finding it and I smacked it hard, massaging it better and then smacking it again, my hands working their way around my thighs, rubbing in what my body forced out in excitement and ecstasy, feeling the wetness in the floor as the back of my hands touched the floor briefly.
I climbed to my knees, my hands roaming over my body, dildos laying on the ground and the men smiling at me, the show was over for now, but I knew i would be here again someday, and soon I had hoped.
I was so in the moment and then had to leave it, felt like a movie director ready to shout cut at even that time of night.
I got up and grabbed my phone, keys, toys and lube and walked away with a smile and leaving a quickly drying specs of me on the floor, I left more of a mark on their memory than i ever could on that floor.

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.

What would happen if gun nuts grouped together to invade canada and ended up winning against canada and taking over the governement and causing the canadian prime minister to surrender unconditionally to the united states? The p******** would have no choice but to sign off on the deal and give the canadian peoples a colonial status citizenship or even as slaves. all those would lead the charge against the canadians would have first rights to all the good properties and lands and all the sexiest women would be theirs as well.

what would happen then?

i forsee something like the old south would develop in the north, with giant maple syrup plantations in the east, giant wheat and bison ranches int he middle, and giant call=centres in the east, plus fishing and timber. all the canadians would be the new niggers in those lands, probably branded with a big maple leap brand on their foreheads, and forced to work as slaves for the upper class, which would be the heroes of america who led the invasion of the peaceable nation of the north.

in a few generations, those upper class amaerican conquerors would have bred a race of warrior-overlords who would be fit, fierce, know how to use a gun, and completely white. they would look at their soft, degenerate cousins to the south (the nigger-lovign americans) and launching a second invasion to free their white cousins from the perfumed bower of the lesser races of immigrants who have destoryed the great white race of American man.

I bet that soft america would not resist, because the toughest mofos would be in agreement with the invaders and take up sides with the conquerors, and they would recognise their kinfolk amongst them. also they would be turned on by the prospect of plunder and soft young pussy that would flow from the new world order. manys the man who would join an uprising in their native countries if given the promise of money, power and soft young pussy.

but then, once these sons of freedom and liberty and white mans power have won the canadian peoples and the american peoples, what then? would they resume the isolationist policies of the 1800s or would they spread their infectious war against the whole world and make the world again into a haven for the whites and the trigger happy?

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.

Alright listen up inferior males, you're about to get a crash course in how the world really works. This post is geared towards Black males. See that gorgeous set of tits up there? Naturally big, perfectly suckable nipples and currently free from bite marks? I own every inch of that sweet little brown bunny and she knows it, she knows her place and is thus rewarded for her submission. Now you may be wondering why such a fine negress specimen kneels before me, happily sucks my cock until my is pouring down her throat, begs for me to fuck her anyway I wish? Simply, for you see only a White Man can provide the proper care, attention, comfort and training to a female of any race but particularly non-White females. I've personally found that the negress makes for the perfect submissive. I've found that negresses aren't as difficult and mouthy as many make them out to be save for ill-educated ghetto garbage. Sure they can be sassy but once you show them that they're dealing with a real man they mellow down, they still have that fire but they know better than to step out of line. However I'd like to talk more about my pet, my little brown bunny. I've had my pet for the past 5-years and have claimed her in every way imaginable. She's smart(I deliberately sought out a negress the pursued a proper education), beautiful, obedient and doesn't need to be told twice when given task. She was a tad chubby when I first met her but not to the degree that was she unattractive, though after losing a total 15.7 pounds she's definitely at her peak. Now face wise she has a pretty face even if she isn't Zoe Saldaña or Gabrielle Union or even Lupita N'yongo, yet she has a good face without being a butterface(poor cursed creatures they are). She was easy to corrupt yet throughly enjoyed the process. A tip I offer to men looking for their own submissive pets; go for the innocent girls who try to act naughty, they're quite open to the idea of being the property of a man. My Bunny was the same, she wanted to be naughty but was so shy that even the idea of me putting a finger inside that tight pussy of hers made her nervous. But I took it slow and steady with her and now my Bunny begs for me to fuck her on all fours and I've bred that tight puckered ass of her more often than not lately. Yet all this is possible because a White man is the only man who can truly tame a woman bit especially a negress. By the end of the year I intend to marry my Bunny as she is the only submissive I've had that was worthy of truly being my property and bearing my mark. So my message to other White Masters is simple; don't feel scared to speak your mind about the natural order of the world and never forget that non-White women make superior submissives and pets. As for the Black men reading this, once again take a look at my Bunny's lucious tits. My cum has covered them, my tongue has traced long wet trails over her skin, my teeth have drawn blood from her tits, her pussy has been bred by me damn near on a daily basis. To put it simply you're looking at a White Man's property and you'd best remember that.

its' the New World Order; decreed and mandated by Superior White Males....

People need to give up on social bullshit morals when it comes to sex. Case in point, Im walking to the train station in the kind of area that is more or less the inner city ghetto. As I'm walking I see a shit load of cops run into some local 'rub-n-tug' near slant town, usual site, a few middle aged Jewish businessmen, a few whites and a shit load of fresh of the boat asian whores. As the cops are loading them up a few 'civic' minded on looker's said the same tired bullshit.
'dont those men know those girls are sex slaves?!?!?!' this came from a fat wife who's husband is at the one across town. A few others went on about 'what kind of world do we live in?' or 'when i was a kid these places didnt exist'. Than it happened, the moment every cop slips up and actually speaks his mind, 'this is a waste of my fucking time' no one else saw him say that but me, than he gave me this look. The kind of look you get when you catch something doing something really stupid. He gave me a hard look than went back in the building, i knew why he said it. CAUSE HE WAS BEING HONEST.
Do whores really make the world a fucked up place? Women have been selling their bodies since the dawn of fucking time, for money, food, clothes, safety, by choice, by slavery. That is built into our minds and secretly no one really has a problem with it, it's getting caught is what sucks. I am sick and fucking tired of people thinking we have some how evolved so morally in the last 60 years we seem to forget the fucked up history prior to 1950. I don't care what your into, women, men, teens, chickens, pumpkin pie I DONT GIVE A FUCK. Just stop lying to yourself that nothing has really changed so much.
Take the asian massage parlors (ANYWHERE) that get busted, once upon a time everything was worked out, believe it or not at one time our country had a strange sense of order. People want to fuck and when you have a demand you need to make a supply. These guys who get busted on dateline, maybe the laws of probability worked for a bunch of people than some random white girl from an actual well off family meets some old slob and pops her crab apple, some journalist sniff's out a good story and turns it into a national computer lock down. (We will forget all the laws his 'expert team' broke) Than this journalist milks the same thing for 7 years until it turns into a joke, nine years from now the same thing will happen cause everyone in america seems to fail history class by the millions.
Social Taboos are such a joke, if you want to smoke a joint while a thai hooker is licking your balls while your downloading Call of Duty, than do it.

A SLUT'S JOURNAL EXCERPT FROM 2 NIGHTS IN DECEMBER

DECEMBER 15

Load 1: (mark). My newest BBC who will fuck me anywhere u say....this time in a cvs parking lot

LOAD 2 : on my way to T I made a stop along the way so J could dump a load inside me. Got bent over a chair in his garage.

Load 3: Rick … He loves fucking me and I told him I've been bad and there were already a few loads inside me. i think that turned him on....

Load 4. New CL guy who fucked me at the highway rest area-he put a condom on but I got him successfully excited enough that I got him to take it off before he started cumming with the hopes that he would be so excited in the process of cumming that his dick would find its way inside me… And that's what happened:) holy shit he shot a huge load inside me

Load 5. M hippy from CL; I walked into his house crawled into his bed without ever saying a word to him he started rubbing my tits and put a condom on so he could try to fuck me. I didn't realize it at first and I totally started having fun with him and before long it was off and I was writing him cowgirl like a whore in heat until he pumped a nice load inside me-I must say I've only had five loads inside me tonight but they were big loads because there is so much sperm swimming inside me right now......yay for me;)

Load 6: CL responder who met me in the parking lot of Lowe's to get in the back of my car not far from gh… Told me to pull his cock out and suck it which of course I skillfully did. He rather liked me swallowing his entire cock as he rubbed my clit thru my cum soaked panties. I asked him were he'd like to put his load and his said i could pick....i love a gentlemen:) i told him i wanted his load inside me and he quickly turned me ovver and obliged.....

LOAD 7: went back to gh......(C the non cummer ) -well he turned that name upside down tonight… I suppose avoid him because he can't, and will leave me sucking hiM. To no end. Not not tonight, I just got back from Florida he declared I haven't fucked anything in 10 days! I think I'm ready to cum". Motherfucker… He didn't disappoint. I've always loved his cock and tonight especially. He put that 9 inches slut pounding sweetNess deep inside me and delivered a pulse pounding, cum pumping powerhouse load of hot sperm so far into my body that it may remain there til im diead and buried… a fact that is OK with me. My ultimate goal is to never live another day of my life without the presence Of Anonymous cum lodged inside me. I can safely say that so far I have achieve that goal since the beginning of June… In other words there's never been a moment these last six months in which the presence of sperm was absent

Load 8: bill -picked me up from the abs and took me down the street to the dimly light parking lot used by a nearby strip club. He took me into the back o his ghetto trashed mini van to fuck me . His dick likes me too much to last very long once it's inside me. He was quick but determined to drive that big cock deep inside me ASAP in order to safely delivered his load into my body. I eagerly accepted it then turned around and sucked all my juices off of his cock then gave him the camisole I was wearing so he could clean off the remnants of My juices and his sperm from his cock. Once he finished I gladly get the shirt back and probably put it back on

Load 9: CL RESPONDER -The second person with a cock that looks like a Klingon Bird Of Prey...haha.. only this time he's White. He met me at the parking lot behind A collection of Marriott properties .....Nice cock and a huge huge cummer. One he was able to get his dick securely inside me he began fucking me like a jackrabbit moving at the speed of light. I thought I might even start to give off smoke from the ever increasing friction caused by hIs thrusting motion that was the equivalent of redlining… Thankfully I had been so thoroughly filled with one anonymous load after another that my body was so saturated with semen that despite his rapid fire fuck thrusting wa so lubricated from sperm i was safe from catching on fire from friction....lol

LOAD 10-my artist on Meyers st

DECEMBER 17th:

LOAD 1 : CL responder from two nights ago at rest area

LOAD 2 late shift around 6:30 at the rest area again

LOAD 3 -another craigslist responder that he actually came right before the late shift… i already forgot this guys name a but he fuck me in the same spot that the late shift guy did minutes before

LOAD 4 : Jeremy by way of WB… He lived a little bit farther north so I went up One of my other areas in which I frequently get fucked in public… The parking lot at W Road...this time I utilized the other side of the parking lot near Kohls. He really liked fucking me and was damn excited and quite vocal; he repeatedly told me how he loved my dedication to being a World class public cum dumpster

sadly only 4 loads today....

PRETTY




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