I have fantasies of suffocating my wife with cling wrap while she is sleeping.

Id love to have her suffocate me with her juicy ass

Poor girl moments before getting grabbed suffocated by a plastic bag 

As young man from a conservative Muslim family. I feel suffocated by the strict rules and regulations imposed upon him by my religion. The Holy Quran represents the traditional values and beliefs that I was raised with. However, as I've loses faith in Islam, I see the Quran as a source of oppression rather than guidance. I desecrate it by cumming and spitting on it. These texts deserve to be cummed & spat on, watching these books get burned and ripped apart turn me on every day. Every day I'd cum on it watching others defile the Quran to remember how good it is to be free.

i confess im writting a suicide note...Please refrain from any type of sorrow,
If you feel like crying save the tears for tomorrow.
I made the decision to end my life for no particular reason
None at all, I just got tired of living.
That's all.
Life lost its flavor to me,
everything started looking so bland.
It felt so pointless living in a world smeared with bullshit
Everywhere I walked I'd be steppin' in it.
I feel that for myself death will be better than life, suffocation better than breathe..
I'm just tired of being ethical in a completely unethical world.
I'm tired of being told to take the straight path
when I'm the most crooked person I know.
I no longer want to live in a world where I'm afraid to love who
I choose to love.
I'm no longer interested in a world where war of skin color is a bigger
battle then WWI and WWII put together.
I refuse to live in a world where trees are illegal and cigarettes
aren't--An herbal essence
versus
A pile of toxic shit.
I refuse to live in a world where the p********s oral recreation is a
bigger deal then the poverty laying less then 420 ft. from
the white house itself.
A world where millions & millions of dollars are shredded on a daily
basis-now tell me what kind of sense does that make?
A world where hate has become the basis for living,
a place where happiness no longer exist.
I can no longer live to die
I'd rather just not live at all
With death I'm looking for a sounder way of living
Be glad foe me because I am no longer suffering-
Be glad for me I have found complete peace by now.
Live on and live strong
Let bravery stand across your chest since it missed mine
Wipe your tears,
I'm dead,it's over. I have no fears

A little cock nigger faggot like me will swallow slobber slurp gag chock and dry any white cock pulled out in my face white cock is all that makes me happy I am superior to the cock alone not just person it's attached to I only get horny getting my face fucked suffocating making love to a big cock with my big nigger lips wrapped around that ten inch white cock

Ladies do you want me to sit on your face? Suffocate you in my ass? If so leave me your contact

Jamilla’s crucifixion

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

S.P.I.R.I.T. - Southern Plantation InterRacial Interactive Tradition
SPIRIT is a genre of heterosexual erotica involving dominant whites exercising their social southern tradition of sexual rights over respectfully submissive blacks who are willing servants, not slaves, and always answer their dominators with "Sir" or "Ma'am", but never "Master".
Although the terms nigger, niggerbull, boy, niggerlupa, bitch, girl, whore, are accepted as standard designations, domination never involves humiliation or physical abuse (such as gagging, slapping, choking, suffocating, spitting, cumming anywhere outside of a woman, pussy/ass to mouth, homosexual acts, etc.) as the niggers are always treated as valued breeding stock and pets. Complete submission is always achieved upon the firm gentile grip of a white person's hand upon a nigger's genitals and then upon the nigger's head exhibiting the social authority of white power as the nigger goes down to their knees to give head in the sacred act of nigger communion.
The practice of albadominus (white sexual dominance) is enabled by the lifestyle of nigerservus (black sexual service) in which blacks accept their social purpose of sexual subservience to be the natural result of ancestral breeding on the southern plantations. As the careful breeding of enslaved black women had produced black bitches who could not resist white cock, so too had such breeding inadvertently produced niggerbulls aroused by the sight of the plantation pairing with their nigger wives while never being able to resist the lure of a white cunt. As the genetic disposition of the black bitch predisposes her to sexually seek the personal comfort of the social protection and provision that can only be provided by a white man (socially referred to as white power), the black bitch always experiences powerful orgasms from the idealistic fantasy of being safely owned by a white man along with the actual sense of complete security that she can only experience from having the white man's cock deep inside her. Likewise, as the genetic disposition of the niggerbull predisposes him to be a committed servant and protector of the white woman, nothing arouses the niggerbull more than feeding at the white cunt of life before devoutly offering his massive load of niggerseed at the pleasure of the dominant white woman.

S.P.I.R.A.L. - Southern Plantation InterRacial Antebellum Lifestyle
SPIRAL is a sub-genre of SPIRIT pertaining to niggers who choose to give up their jobs and possessions to go live naked (though not barefoot) on southern plantations where they are taken care of as breeding stock.
Divided into house niggers and field niggers, house niggers live in the big house and perform casual housework tasks in addition to their sexual obligations while field niggers live in the stables and perform casual gardening tasks in addition to their sexual obligations. SPIRAL also takes place away from the plantations in the urban centers where single niggers and nigger couples live with their white homeowners. SPIRAL ultimately occurs in secret, off of the road, niggertowns, where every household has niggers who regularly walk about the town naked and where niggerbreeding is at the foundation of the local economy.

S.P.A.M.M. - Swirl Pearls And Mature Mandingos
SPAMM is the SPIRIT sub-genre of spoiled, interracial desiring (swirl), petite teen white girls (pearls), sexually dominating mature Mandingos (M&Ms) whose duty to them is to protect and serve them addressing them as princesses.
Any conceptions to occur results in the pearls deciding the fates of the babies with no involvement from the fathers.

P B & J - Polar Bears & Jungle Bunnies
PB&J is the sub-genre of SPIRIT erotica pertaining to stout mature white men (polar bears) sexually dominating and breeding willing younger black women (jungle bunnies) usually with both of them in their socks and t-shirts in front of the jungle bunnies' nigger husbands.
Jungle bunnies always have un-straitened hair and hair surrounding their vaginas and refer to their first polar bear as 'Sire' as he will always retain primary sexual rights to her and will present her with a collar that she will always proudly wear in acknowledgement of his rights over her.
When a sexually active black woman is taken by a white man for the very first time, the event is referred to as being an A.R. or Antebellum Reunion in which the black woman is said to have been 'restored' to her proper place and function.
Any conceptions to occur results in the sale of the zygotes to an underground adoption agency for $10,000 to be divided between the bear and the bunny. This modernized honored southern tradition is known as niggerbreeding and allows the polar bear to form partnerships with several jungle bunnies to provide an adequate source of income on the black market for both himself and their families who acknowledge his white seed and white power as making him their household's primary income provider as well as the actual man of the house.

B.A.J. - Buckras And Jungle Bunnies
The BAJ SPIRIT sub-genre celebrates the coming of age tradition of virgin teen white boys (buckras) encouraged by their fathers to sexually dominate and breed a grown jungle bunny in front of her nigger husband to earn the badge of white manhood for which it is always a great honor for the jungle bunny to have been utilized in enabling a white boy to become a white man.
On very rare occasions, a buckra may actually meet the challenge of earning his badge of white manhood through a disrespectful black woman with whom he will seduce into submission to having an A.R. to teach her proper respect and restore her to her proper place and function in front of her nigger husband (if she's married). On such rare occasions, the restored niggress will usually become the devoted black bitch of the young buckra who thereby becomes her sire.
Any conceptions to occur results in the sale of the zygotes to an underground adoption agency for $10,000 to be divided between the buckra and the bunny unless the bunny is a restored married niggress who enthusiastically accepts the honor of baring and raising her young sire's child.

Avrila
The Avrila is the SPIRIT sub-genre celebrating the coming of age tradition of teen black girls who are presented by their mothers for deflowering by polar bears to officially become proud black bitches.
If the mother is without a polar bear to call upon, when time and finances allow, the mothers will coach their daughters while they're vacationing out of town at a motel or hotel on how to present themselves to an available white man for deflowering.
Any conceptions to occur results in the black bitches keeping their babies with no involvement from the fathers unless the black bitch is fortunate enough to become the personal breeding bitch of her deflowerer who then becomes her sire.

Real Queens of Spades
The sub-genre of SPIRIT for Real Queens of Spades refers to established white women known as either queens or albadoms sexually dominating niggerbulls for pleasure and occasional breeding.
The symbol of the queens is a crown atop of a spade bearing the emblem of a 'Q' and usually displayed at the center of a Confederate flag.
Niggerbulls often serve as butlers wearing bowties, tight t-shirts, and footwear, at albadom functions casually providing them with head upon demand. The niggerbulls are usually trained in the service of the Daughters of Freya, a religious fertility cult of white women devoted to the goddess Freya by maintaining stables of devout niggerbulls trained to worship white women as goddesses for sexual pleasure and breeding and holding every act of giving or receiving head from the white goddesses as being the giving of a blessing. Other niggerbulls are trained by albadoms; independent white women who train niggers from off of the streets to become devoted niggerbulls.
Any conceptions to occur from breeding results in the queens keeping the babies with no involvement from the fathers.

I confess that I want to be pegged till I cum all over myself by a fat dirty bitch with a hairy pussy and after that she would suffocate me in hairy fat pussy till I almost asphyxiate

Mistress  is suffocating

Written by myself

LITTLE TEASE NEXT DOOR Part 2

Shae woke up the next morning alone in her bed feeling very hungover and her body was sore. Her head was pounding. *Geez what happened last night* she thought. She was unable to recall right away how she even made it home. Slowly it started coming back to her. As she sat up she had visions of getting fucked. Hardcore fucked. By Joe.

*Wait Did that actually happen? Was it a dream?*

She looked under her bed and pulled out her special toy box. Everything seemed to be in its place. She grabs her cell phone and texts her best friend asking what time they left the bar that night and when did she drop her off at her house.

Her pussy was sore. It couldn't have been a dream.

She thought maybe she was losing her mind. She thought about going next door and asking him about it. How awkward of a conversation would that be if he didn't fuck her to madness last night.

She was feeling conflicted. If he raped me, why am dripping wet thinking about it.

If he didn't rape me why am I thinking so much about him doing it?

She took a shower letting the hot water relax her back muscles a bit before lathering her body in soap. She ran her hands all over and found a couple of bruises on her wrists. *There's no way I was dreaming* she thought.

She got out of the shower and got dressed and decided she'd just go over and ask him casually how his night went and if she remembered correctly about him helping her with her keys to the door.

She put on a cute little yellow low cut sundress and sandals and she walked over to Joe's house. Surprisingly he was not on his porch. She rings the doorbell to his big brick 2 story house that dwarfed her little 1 bedroom 1 bath house.

She was about to ring the doorbell again when she heard his footsteps nearing the door. He answered the door with a smile on his face, "Well hello there Shae, what can I do for you?"

"I just had a question" He gestured for her to come inside which she hesitates but still walks in. He closes the door behind them and he leads her to the couch in the living room to have a seat.

"So, what was your question?" he asks sitting in the recliner chair beside the couch.

Shae clears her throat, "Well, I mean this is gonna sound silly, but I had this really vivid crazy dream last night."

"Did you? " He says with a devious grin.

"You were in it." she says. Her voice suddenly growing hoarse and giving her a bit of a cough.

"Before you tell me about it, would you like something to drink?" he asks politely.

"Yes please. Sorry I am kind of dehydrated."

"It's no problem"

He comes back with a blue gatorade and Shae guzzles a good majority of it.

"Better?" he asks.

"Yes, thank you so much." She answers.

"Now, about this vivid crazy dream?"

"Yes well, I uhm, came home drunk from the bar last night."

"Oh. Only that part wasn't a dream. I saw you bust your ass last night and lose your keys. Remember?"

Shae paused and said, "Oh so that part actually..?"

He nodded his head slowly while smiling deviously at her. Shae began to feel kind of faint and dizzy.

"So did you come. In-into my, into th-the house I mean." She said. Her vision was reducing to a colorful blur. Then it begins to fade.

"Oh I came sweetie. I came all up in that pussy and made it mine remember?" he says moving himself to the couch closer to her as her eyes start closing and she can hardly hold herself upwards.

Shae heard him but she was barely clinging to consciousness. She weakly whispers "No.."

"I'm your fucking daddy. I can't believe you forgot so soon. That's okay, your tight ass is about to get a new lesson." He tells her just as she falls over slumped over on his couch.

"He flips her onto her back and rips open the dress to get those perfect titties out to play again.

"This time baby, you're not leaving. You're gonna be just the prettiest little basement & bedroom decoration." He says with both hands grabbing her tits massaging them and flicking her pink little nipples about as he does.

"You're fucking mine."

ー

Shae's eyes felt like they weighed more than she did. There was a very dull LED light on the other side of a wall that she could see. She looked around and let her eyes adjust. She felt cold and when she went to move she realized that she was laying on a mattress in a basement chained by one of her ankles. She had her little dress on still but it was torn at the chest leaving her cleavage out on display. She grabbed the chain and followed it to find it was attached to a metal U ring tie down that was concreted to the ground.

*Oh my God* she thought.

Then she exploded with rage.

"LET ME OUT OF HERE! JOE!! JOE YOU FUCKING BASTARD! WHAT THE FUCK! LET ME GO!! HELP! SOMEBODY PLEASE HELP!"

Joe appears from around the wall.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of her mattress didn't she?" He says calmly.

"Why?"

"I told you, you're fucking mine."

"You can't just keep me here. People will be looking for me."

"And?"

"Please let me-"

"Shut the fuck up" He said sternly as he started to walk over. Shae backed up and tripped falling back on the mattress. Joe suddenly lunged at her pinning her down with his body as she squirmed and struggled beneath him. He grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head.

"Who fucking owns you."

"Fuck you!"

*Slap*

"Who's your fucking daddy bitch?"

"You're not my fucking daddy!"

*Slap*

"That's not what you were screaming last night."

"Fuck you! I was drunk!"

*slap"

"Do you think that matters? You want this. Why else would you have come over? You wanted daddy to rape you again. You know that's what you want , what you deserve. What you fucking exist for."

"Noo" She whines with her face throbbing from him slapping her.

"Oh yes. Daddy's gonna hurt you with his big cock every fucking day and you're gonna fucking love it."

Shae softly crying softly whispering "No, no..."

Joe ignores her and he puts her two wrists together to keep them pinned with one hand above her head as his free hand starts to grope her titties. Her nipples were still sore from being pulled and twisted so hard the night before. Everytime he touched them they send a shockwave of pain and pleasure throughout her whole body.

He reached down between her legs rubbing her pussy through her little dress and panties.

"Mmmm this is no longer yours. It is mine. It will be shaved when I say, played with as I say and fucked as I say. Do you understand me?"

Shae doesn't answer but instead just stares up at him with watery fear & hate filled eyes.

"Perhaps I just need to intoxicate you again to get you to look at me with those submissive eyes once again. Or maybe some heavy drugging so I can brainwash you. Hmm? Would you like that?" he says.

She shakes her head no. He smiles and says too bad.

Stands up and forces her up by her hair and over to a sawhorse sex bench in the corner with a mirror in front of it. He forces her to bend over it and he straps her down facing the mirror.

"I made you a promise last night that I was gonna take every hole on your body. I have yet to fulfil that promise my little tease."

Joe takes off his clothes as his eyes remained locked on her, admiring how good she looks tied bent over that sawhorse with that helpless expression on her face. His cock springs free and he begins to stroke it. Then he walks up and slaps it on her face a few times ordering her to open her mouth. She hesitates at first until Joe reared his hand back to slap her again and so she opens her mouth.

Joe slams right into her throat making her gag hard on his cock. He had his hands on each side of her head to make sure she choked on his cock properly. "Mmmm you can take it further down your throat than that. Relax your throat and this face fucking will be easier on you."

What choice did she have? She tried her best to relax her throat so his cock would slide down it easier. She hated obeying him but really she didn't want to puke all over him either. He had his cock going in and out of the back of her throat to where she was literally swallowing the head of his cock with each thrust. Drool was all over and her eyes were watering like crazy. She looked up at him with those watery eyes when he barked a command at her to do so and when she did he'd look down into them with awe as if her almost suffocating on his cock was the most precious sight in the world to him.

"You better not waste a fucking drop of my cum little girl or daddy is going to punish you hard" Her eyes widen as she didn't expect him to cum in her mouth just yet but before she could even take another gasp of air he grabbed her head and pressed it hard down onto his cock as she felt his hot cum shooting down her throat hole.

"Swallow baby. Swallow it! Yeahhh!"

Shae felt so filthy.

"Good girl he said finally releasing her head and he walked away from her over to a drawer where he pulled out a dildo, a ball gag and a vibrating wand.

"Since you were a good girl, I am going to reward you."

She looked at him curious as to what he was going to do while still adorned with her helpless expression. Oh how Joe loved his personal fuck toy.

"Open"

Shae opens her mouth to accept the ball gag into it. Then Joe sets up the wand on her clit and ties it to where it can't move and then he rubs the dildo on her asshole and shae squirmed in protest. He laughed and suddenly shoved it into her pussy, fucking her with it a bit as he flipped on the wand. Fuck it felt so good. No matter how she wanted to deny it he was going to make her cum for him yet again.

Joe could tell from her gagged moans and the movement of her body as he played with her that she was about to have an orgasm ripping through her entire body. But he suddenly stopped, pulling the dildo out and turned the vibrator off, denying her the orgasm.

Oh did this piss Shae off. She let out a moan full of distress, need and a bratty "But whyy?!" sound to it. Joe laughed and asked "Aww. Poor baby girl doesn't like being denied orgasms now does she?"

He laughs deviously stroking his big already hard again cock.

"Dont worry baby" Joe then spits on her asshole and Shae whimpers and shakes her head no, knowing she's about to have her virgin asshole taken by Joes porn star sized cock. She knew his girth would rip her asshole and stretch her to fit him inside. She felt him rub the tip at her tight hole.

*Oh god! No!*

She struggled like crazy in her restraints and joe took some of Shae's wetness up from her pussy to her asshole as Shaes anticipatory whining and pleading grew louder. With one hard merciless thrust he plunged his huge cock deep into her asshole and turned her whines into loud screams. She never felt so helpless, filthy and in pain as he ripped her ass with his cock. As he started pulling out it hurt even worse but as soon as he got his cock to where the tip was almost out of her hole he rammed it right back in.

She screams again and whimpers as joe starts to steadily fuck her asshole.

"Oh fuck yeah baby take this fucking dick!"

He suddenly rams the dildo back in her pussy at the same time making Shae let out the most perfect surprised helpless cry then he flipped the wand back on.

Shae couldnt take it, feeling so full with all of her holes were currently filled with dick, dildo and a gag. It was overwhelming. She felt it coming though. An orgasm with the most torturous intensity she's ever experienced. Joe seeing her body tense ready to release, gave her that release with the the touch of the button turning the wand on hi.

Shae's orgasm ripped through from her toes through to the tip of her head. Her body convulsed and her mind was absent any thought other than that of the hardest orgasm she has ever had in her life that continued to ripple through her body sending after shock like shudders.

The clenching of her hole on his cock had him on the verge of cuming deep in her ass.

It was when he saw the look of submission in her eyes again that he finally filled her ass with his cum.

He moans out as he feels his cock start spewing cum into her. She was his. She is property. His property. A fucking toy to be kept, used, put on display.... And the perfect specimen to breed.

Have you seen her before? Would love to suffocate in their.

She can suffocate me with those knockers

Suffocation

I confess I've recently met a very dominant girl. She's 5ft 2 and 170lbs, so a heavy set girl, but I love it.

She's really into face sitting. Last night I almost suffocated. I get off on that so much. It makes my cock hard and her pussy and ass wet as hell.

After that she likes to piss on me, and then she gets on top and rides my cock while smothering her piss all over my body.

She told me she's going to try and get her girlfriend involved so I can be double teamed. I'm going to be fucked in the ass with a strap on for the first time while being forced to eat the other girls pussy and ass.

I can't wait mostly for the time I'll have one girl riding my cock and the other suffocating me with her ass.

Proof the animal kill torture vid's are part of the obscenity laws.

I would think it violates obscenity laws to some degree, oh, and it does.


"USC � Title 18 � Part I � Chapter 3 � � 48

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18 USC � 48 - Animal crush videos" (a) Definition.� In this section the term �animal crush video� means any photograph, motion-picture film, video or digital recording, or electronic image that�
(1) depicts actual conduct in which 1 or more living non-human mammals, birds, reptiles, or amphibians is intentionally crushed, burned, drowned, suffocated, impaled, or otherwise subjected to serious bodily injury (as defined in section 1365 and including conduct that, if committed against a person and in the special maritime and territorial jurisdiction of the United States, would violate section 2241 or 2242); and
(2) is obscene.
(b) Prohibitions.�
(1) Creation of animal crush videos.� It shall be unlawful for any person to knowingly create an animal crush video, if�
(A) the person intends or has reason to know that the animal crush video will be distributed in, or using a means or facility of, interstate or foreign commerce; or
(B) the animal crush video is distributed in, or using a means or facility of, interstate or foreign commerce.
(2) Distribution of animal crush videos.� It shall be unlawful for any person to knowingly sell, market, advertise, exchange, or distribute an animal crush video in, or using a means or facility of, interstate or foreign commerce."

Don't pretend a stream does not constitute as distribution. You distribute them to our temp's. Oh and you sell premium membership.

"(2) Good-faith distribution.� This section shall not apply to the good-faith distribution of an animal crush video to�
(A) a law enforcement agency; or
(B) a third party for the sole purpose of analysis to determine if referral to a law enforcement agency is appropriate. " So the only people you shuld be giving the vid's is police.

Last night my former mistress was giving me head and I didn't realize I hadn't had sex or jerked off for over a week. She had to swallow like five times get my whole cumload down and damn near suffocated in the process. It was pretty funny.

I must confess that I know my lover reads the boards here and he knows I do the same. It's both titillating and nerve wracking, as a woman always wonders what kinds of trouble her man might go looking for, but I do my best to be well-adjusted about it and understanding. I mean, I have my little bit of strange I'm into, so why shouldn't he? That doesn't mean I don't think about what I would do if I caught him doing more than he would ever be comfortable with me doing here...

I guess that's where the fantasy aspect of it comes into play. If I ever caught him exchanging more personal information, getting a little one-on-one time with a chic here, I would find ways to punish him with my body that would leave him never wanting to fuck around anywhere else in any way. I fantasize about waking up late at night, finding him hunched over both computer and phone, one open to email and the other text, pictures and messages from other girls spread across both, and his dick visibly hard. I would grab him by the hair at the base of his neck, pull his head back, and demand to know what the hell he thinks he's doing. I would walk around to the front of the chair, still using his hair as a handle, and force him to look at me while I shove his computer out of his lap and his phone to the floor. I sleep naked, so he would be forced to face me, him clothed and me not, while I accusingly inquire as to what those sluts have that I don't, and again, using his hair as handle, make him eye every inch of my well-curved, naked body. His wide eyed stare would take in my round 32D breasts, no longer pushed up by a bra, but sitting tantalizing ripe and full, no restraint. His eyes would slide down along the smooth indentation of my waist, lingering where the swell of my hips begins, then continue to mark the slight growth of hair at my pussy, just barely grown back from the last brazilian. His gaze would begin wandering down my legs before his eyes shift back to my pussy and my tits, and I would accusingly growl, "That's right. Get your fill, motherfucker. I'm about to fuck any other bitch's body and words out of your head."

Grabbing his hand, I'd drag him back to the bedroom, push him down on the bed, him stammering out apologies, explanations, anything to try to keep me from doing anything too rash. Once on the bed, I'd slowly crawl my way up his body, hands positioned just outside the line of his body, on the bed, with my nipples dragging slowly up his legs, his torso, his chest, until they were positioned just above his lips and almost eye-level. I can feel his cock begin to stir again and harden against the length of my body as I hover, wanting to suffocate him with my tits. Before giving into that desire, I crawl the rest of the way up his body, straddle his face, tops of my feet pressing down on his chest as I use my knees to keep his head focused up the length of me. "Any last words before I ride your face and obliterate your dirty fucking mind?" He'd shake his head as much as my knees and thighs allow and then I'd smother him with my pussy.

I can feel his lips hungrily working at my clit, and I angle my ass back some to give him greater access. I grind my hips in a circle eight, clit catching just the edge of his teeth as he opens his mouth to begin licking at my now swollen lips. Using the headboard as leverage, I gyrate against his mouth, sliding up to his nose, circling it with my clit and dipping it just a bit into my pussy, before sliding back down the lower part of his face, rubbing against the scruff of his chin. The friction is amazing and I can tell that he's forgetting this is a form of punishment. His hands release their grip on the sheets to steady my hips. He's aiming for a better position for himself and his enjoyment, but this isn't about what he wants. I force his hands off my hips, reposition myself at the best angle for my release, and ride his face until he is soaked with my pussy juice and panting from the punishing rhythm I'm keeping. He begins to groan, which I know means he's so fucking hard it's almost painful, but I'm a long way from easing that pain. He continues to groan, licking and sucking on my clit and pussy lips like his life depends on it (which, in some ways, it kinda does at this point), and I begin to feel that building momentum and heat. I slide down again to the scruff on his chin, taking a moment to revel in the friction that's building. He realizes that I'm closing to coming, works his hands free, and grabs my hips to angle my pussy right on his mouth as he tongues me until I cum, clawing at the headboard to keep myself mostly upright. My breathing is ragged, but I'm nowhere near satisfied.

I glance over my shoulder towards his cock, and I see it is fully curved forward, straining its length across his belly. I want to torture it with tongue and mouth, keeping him on the brink, dick so hard he can't even think straight, until he is begging for me to finish him. Considering the best way to do this, I shift off of his face, sit by his right side, and face the length of his body. Without straddling him again (I don't want to get too distracted), I grab the base of his cock with my left hand and smoothly and fully slide my mouth down the length of him, lips sealed around him until they meet my hand. I balance myself with my other hand and begin to pull my way gently up his cock, savoring just how fucking hard he is. I begin with a slow rhythm. My hand pulls up on his shaft while my mouth slides down it. I keep this slow pace until my hand is dripping with saliva because he is so fucking hard it's literally making me drool. Carefully, I draw my lips back a little, letting my teeth graze his dick. I catch the base of his head a little as I come up, circle it with my tongue, then slide my mouth back down his length, teeth grazing the whole way down. Holding my hair with my left hand, I turn my body until he can clearly see what I'm doing. Giving him this view, I begin to slide more quickly up and down his cock, teeth still lightly grazing, but toward the base, I seal my lips around his dick and shove him as far into my mouth and throat as I can. I can feel my eyes water as he touches my throat, and I swallow. I fucking love the feel of him so hard in my mouth, my throat trying to close around and swallow up his dick. Exhaling heavily, I slide back up to his head. He is so hard it's purple and so slick from my mouth. I meet his eyes, and they're wide, so wide, and his breathing is hitched and catching; hard exhales and long, breathy inhales. I can read his body so well and he needs to be fucked.

Sliding my mouth down the length of his dick one last time, I shift my body again, this time facing my ass toward him and straddling his waist. I drop his dick from my mouth and it bounces against his belly. I inch my hips and ass down his body, catching his dick in one hand while bracing myself on his right leg with the other, and I shove myself onto him, hard. I can feel his dick hit the end of me, and I begin to ride him. I force myself to keep a punishing rhythm, up and down, hard, hard, hard, feeling his balls tighten up and hit my clit. I adjust my hips so my ass is back a little farther and I feel his hands come up and grab my hips. He's trying to push them back straighter so he can get a deeper angle, but I keep with the angle I've got. I want to feel as much of his balls against my clit as I can for as long as I can take it. The pressure is beginning to build again and I want him to cum when I do, so I let his hands adjust my hips. By now he is practically sitting up, shoving me down on his cock, while I brace myself with my hands, down around his legs. His hips are lifting as he forces his way further and further into my body.

At the last minute, I decide this isn't what I want, so I slide off him. He makes a noise like, "Whaaa?" wondering what the fuck I'm doing, but he sees that I'm going for one of my favorite positions, face down, ass up. He immediately gets to his knees, fits himself behind me, and slams his way into my tight pussy. From this position he hits all the right spots and I'm almost certain that if he keeps it up, I'm going to squirt. He slams into me, harder and harder. So hard that I'm whimpering, moaning, begging him to fuck me, fuck me so hard that I cum screaming. His rhythm is speeding up, shifting, and he's getting a little ragged around the edges. Just as I think he's going to beat me to it, he rams into me one more time and I'm over the edge. I can feel my pussy squeezing him as he pumps into me, once, twice, and then I can't control it anymore. I can feel that extra wetness rising and his balls and thighs get soaked by my pussy. As he realizes what happens, he slams into me again, and it keeps my orgasm going. My legs are shaking, but I don't care. I can barely keep my ass in the air anymore, but the bed is now soaked. I feel him slam into me one more time, and we both topple over onto the bed, not giving a fuck how messy it's becoming.

He wraps his arms around me, pulling me back against the length of his chest. He kisses me and tells me how much he loves me, how he's sorry for crossing a line, but that he might just have to do it more if it means I'll fuck him like I just did. I don't know quite how to feel about that... I don't want him to message other chics... I mean, I'm right here, and if I can do this shit to him, what the hell does he need anyone else for? Right?

I confess I want to suffocate this slut with her necklace while I fuck her ass

Your Awakening .....Some of you need it. Hope this helps.

A time comes in your life when you finally get�when, in the midst of all your fears and insanity, you stop dead in your tracks and somewhere the voice inside your head cries out�ENOUGH1 Enough fighting and crying and blaming and struggling to hold on. Then, like a child quieting down after a tantrum, you blink back your tears and begin to look at the world through new eyes.

This is your awakening.

You realize it�s time to stop hoping and waiting for something to change, or for happiness, safety and security to magically appear over the next horizon.

You realize that in the real world there aren�t always fairy tale endings, and that any guarantee of �happily ever after� must begin with you�and in the process a sense of serenity is born of acceptance.

You awaken to the fact that you are not perfect and that not everyone will always love, appreciate or approve of who or what you are�and that�s OK. They are entitled to their own views and opinions.

You learn the importance of loving and championing yourself�and in the process a sense of new found confidence is born of self-approval.

Your stop complaining and blaming other people for the things they did to you � or didn�t do for you � and you learn that the only thing you can really count on is the unexpected.

You learn that people don�t always say what they mean or mean what they say and that not everyone will always be there for you and everything isn�t always about you.

So, you learn to stand on your own and to take care of yourself�and in the process a sense of safety and security is born of self-reliance.

You stop judging and pointing fingers and you begin to accept people as they are and to overlook their shortcomings and human frailties�and in the process a sense of peace and contentment is born of forgiveness.

You learn to open up to new worlds and different points of view. You begin reassessing and redefining who you are and what you really stand for.

You learn the difference between wanting and needing and you begin to discard the doctrines and values you�ve outgrown, or should never have bought into to begin with.

You learn that there is power and glory in creating and contributing and you stop maneuvering through life merely as a �consumer� looking for you next fix.

You learn that principles such as honesty and integrity are not the outdated ideals of a bygone era, but the mortar that holds together the foundation upon which you must build a life.

You learn that you don�t know everything, it�s not you job to save the world and that you can�t teach a pig to sing. You learn the only cross to bear is the one you choose to carry and that martyrs get burned at the stake.

Then you learn about love. You learn to look at relationships as they really are and not as you would have them be. You learn that alone does not mean lonely.

You stop trying to control people, situations and outcomes. You learn to distinguish between guilt and responsibility and the importance of setting boundaries and learning to say NO.

You also stop working so hard at putting your feelings aside, smoothing things over and ignoring your needs.

You learn that your body really is your temple. You begin to care for it and treat it with respect. You begin to eat a balanced diet, drinking more water, and take more time to exercise.

You learn that being tired fuels doubt, fear, and uncertainty and so you take more time to rest. And, just food fuels the body, laughter fuels our soul. So you take more time to laugh and to play.

You learn that, for the most part, you get in life what you deserve, and that much of life truly is a self-fulfilling prophecy.

You learn that anything worth achieving is worth working for and that wishing for something to happen is different than working toward making it happen.

More importantly, you learn that in order to achieve success you need direction, discipline and perseverance. You learn that no one can do it all alone, and that it�s OK to risk asking for help.

You learn the only thing you must truly fear is fear itself. You learn to step right into and through your fears because you know that whatever happens you can handle it and to give in to fear is to give away the right to live life on your own terms.

You learn to fight for your life and not to squander it living under a cloud of impending doom.

You learn that life isn�t always fair, you don�t always get what you think you deserve and that sometimes bad things happen to unsuspecting, good people�and you lean not to always take it personally.

You learn that nobody�s punishing you and everything isn�t always somebody�s fault. It�s just life happening. You learn to admit when you are wrong and to build bridges instead of walls.

You lean that negative feelings such as anger, envy and resentment must be understood and redirected or they will suffocate the life out of you and poison the universe that surrounds you.

You learn to be thankful and to take comfort in many of the simple things we take for granted, things that millions of people upon the earth can only dream about: a full refrigerator, clean running water, a soft warm bed, a long hot shower.

Then, you begin to take responsibility for yourself by yourself and you make yourself a promise to never betray yourself and to never, ever settle for less than you heart�s desire.

You make it a point to keep smiling, to keep trusting, and to stay open to every wonderful possibility.

You hang a wind chime outside your window so you can listen to the wind.

Finally, with courage in you heart, you take a stand, you take a deep breath, and you begin to design the life you want to live as best as you can.

Does anyone else believe Casey Anthonys story about her dad molesting her since she was 8 years old and her brother trying to get some too just like dear old dad.

What if its true and all the lies were just trying to cover up for her father. Maybe after all this time of perving on his daughter and using chloroform to stop her from fighting needed to fulfill his urge for a younger piece of ass since Casey is all grown up now.

When molesting little Kaylee he accidentally smothered her to death as he held his hand over her little mouth to keep her from screaming and crying.

Him being an ex-cop would know that cause of death would be determined to be suffocation so he put the duct tape over her mouth to make it appear that the duct tape was cause of death. He knew he couldn't get away with an accidental drowning story because there would not be any water in her lungs so they couldn't call 911.

Only option was to tell Casey what happened, hide the body and then hide it for as long as they could so the body would be decomposed and evidence would be gone. Casey making up lie after lie to cover for as long as she could.

Now instead of George coming clean to get his little girl off the hook they think they can get away with this BS story they have now.

I confess I have a dirty panty fetish. I love to smell thongs/ g strings that have been sitting & soaking in Pusy/ass. When I get my hands on a pair I instantly suffocate my nose in them. Discharge turns me on. When I’m cumming I like to rub the panties on my clit. If the the panties have a strong smell I’ll sleep in them after I cum!!!!

I want to suffocate in those titties.

Want to lick this girls asshole so bad.... And let her suffocate me with her asshole

Dan and I have been fighting for the past while. I realized its not Dan's fault that I need to find or conquer him with my ideas or expectations of him. I see now that my problem with him is my idea that I have been clinging to, believing it's the only right thing.What is freedom in our relationship?We are either going to show each other that we love each other or we are not. I've been to preoccupied about my partners 'loyalty' and the expectations we've been holding each other to. We don't own each other is the bottom line. We can't ever expect to say "YOU CANNOT" without creating some kind of repressed resentment in it's way. Surely you know the feeling of wanting to rebel because "I cannot" is like a prison that you want to escape from. If you get this then maybe you can understand what I decided later on. We want to be having fun and loving each other. No worries about who is trying to dominate the other. Instead I now give him his freedom from now on and he releases me from his expectations as well. Let him make his decisions and if you love him then stand by him because if he loves you, he might turn tail and realize that what he wanted isn't what he wants after all. I'll be happy with me, I'll live my life, I'll wait and see what our love is in complete freedom to our independence. Even if I think I know how it'll go for him, think I do, maybe I don't. If I'm patient and I really love him, he'll come back to me and I won't need to say what did you learn, or can we make rules, because he'll know in his heart what he wants and I'll know in mine that I'm strong and beautiful and worthy of love with or without him. Because love isn't something you should suffocate with rules then it isn't something that needs a ball and chain.

Suffocated With her own tits, videos like this?

When i was 13 i got a bit of work during the summer holidays from my neighbour, Her name was Lilian and whilst she was at work (as well as her husband) I would be required take the 4 legged friend (Benj) for a walk.
Lilian was a much older woman (45 or so) compared to my Mum who was only 34 at the time. She used to wear quite short skirts for her age which showed a bit of thigh and she always wore nylon panthyose or possibly stockings (at least i used to dream she did!)
Monday came round and at around 12.30 i went and got the key from my Mum, I let myself in to Lilians and she had been kind enough to leave me a sandwich and a drink in the kitchen :)

So off I went with Benji for a walk, It was about 2.15 by the time i got back and i locked up and gave the key to my Mum and off i went to play football.
Tuesday comes round and the exact same routine, when I arrived back at the house i was desperate for a piss so i used Lilians bathroom.
As i stood their pissing and looking around I noticed some panties on the top of the laundry basket.
They were not sexy in anyway, just plain white standard panties.
You have to remember i was 13 at the time and my hormones were going so crazy I would have fucked a car exhaust if i had some lube :)

Anyway, I reached over and grabbed the panties, my next unconscious action was to draw them up to my nose and deeply inhale the aroma of Lilian.
These panties were heavily soiled and they were clearly freshly discarded.
As i inhaled the intoxicating aroma of pussy juice and stale piss my cock shot up like a light saber, I had never been so hard and i ferociously wanked myself off in to the basin and i almost suffocated on the addictive smell of Lilians soiled panties.
I contemplated cumming all over those panties but I got scared and simply shot my load in to the basin.
I replaced the panties and tidied myself up, I also rinsed the cum down the plughole of the basin before making a quick exit.
On Wednesday and Thursday I repeated this scenario, and on both days there were fresh panties for me to devour.
Finally Friday comes around and as usual I look forward to my wank,
But imagine my horror when there were no panties there!
Had i been rumbled? Was it a trap? These thoughts raced through my mind but I was horny as fuck and so naively I went in to her bedroom and had a look through her pantie draw.
Her taste in lingerie was conservative to say the least but I found second prize, A standard 1980's style vibrator, I will never forget it, it even had a tide mark :)
So I grabbed the vibrator and took a good sniff, There was something there but nowhere near as satisfying as a good moist pair of soiled panties.
Instinctively I tried the taste test and i could taste Lilians juices albeit faintly.
I got my cock out and proceeded to wank bringing myself to a shuddering climax, I actually came over the carpet but I could easily rub it in to disguise lol.
As I went to leave and was about to lock up who else but Lilian returned home, She had not informed me but she left off work at 2pm on a Friday.
I was literally 5 minutes away from being caught licking my neighbours vibrator whilst wanking in her bedroom!

I often fantasize about what might of happened if I had been caught that day................................

I wrote this a few years ago when I was thirteen or fourteen and posted it on another forum. I've edited it for grammar and spelling since, but the language is much still the same (troll away about the ten dollar words if that's satisfying for you.) I'm afraid I don't have a very satisfying epilogue for you, but maybe you'll enjoy reading my fantasies.. I confess that I want to fuck basically everyone in my family!

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My mom lives with her new wife, and I live with them and my adopted sister most of the time. My dad lives with his sister, and I'm with them in the summer. I think I might be a nymphomaniac because all I can think about is fucking them, all of them.

I found Mom and Sheila's toys in their closet while they were at the store with my sister Renee a couple weeks ago. They just started leaving me home alone. They had a dizzying assortment of dildos, butt-plugs, handcuffs, ropes, vibrators, strap-on harnesses, lubricants... they even had a strange dildo on a huge half-cylinder that plugged in. [ed. when I posted this story I was informed this was a Sybian. I also later learned that one of the objects I didn't even take notice of at the time was a sex swing. (It was disassembled.] I sniffed and licked every toy they had, but they were all clean. I was really disappointed, but that didn't stop me from picking out one of their smaller toys and popping my own cherry with it. I actually got a spot of blood on their carpet, but I don't think they ever noticed. I resolved to start listening at their door and even hoped to get a peek at what they were doing sometime. The idea of them fucking each other with these dildos (some of them were HUGE) was just fascinating to me.

I didn't have to wait long to get my voyeuristic jollies. That night, I went to bed and closed my door and started reading. When I heard Renee go to bed, I crept out to find everyone's bedroom doors closed. I crept over to Mom and Sheila's door, and carefully pressed my ear against it.

The first thing I heard was my mom giggling. "Stop nibbling, that tickles!" It was a few moments before I heard anything else, and it was mom's gentle moans, slowly building in intensity. Eventually I heard Sheila gasp "Talk dirty to me.", and Mom said some shit I had NEVER heard her say! This probably isn't exactly how it went, but it's as close as I can remember.

"Yeah Sheila, you dirty fucking whore, you lick that pussy, you worship it, worship me. You're MY fucking whore."
"Yes, mistress, I'm your whore."
"I didn't tell you to stop licking, whore. Don't forget my asshole. OH YEAH you're a well-trained little whore."

I began rubbing myself while holding my ear to the door, nearly suffocating trying not to make any noise. This went on for a few minutes until finally I heard mom screaming, I guess because she came. She asked Sheila if she'd cum yet, and she said yes, and mom asked if she was ready to switch. I assumed that meant that Mom was gonna eat Sheila's pussy now.

But then mom started begging "Please let me suck your big dick, mistress." I guessed they had gotten out the strap-on. I heard some gagging sounds, and rubbed myself thinking about my Mom kneeling in front of Sheila, deep-throating a 12" strap-on. (Their biggest one was, indeed, 12", I had measured.)

I had to step away from the door and lie down on the floor in the hall to frig myself to an orgasm. After I did, I found that I was still horny and curious so I put my ear back to the door to see if anything was still going on.

"Fuck me, Sheila, fuck my pussy, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum!"
"Yeah, you like that, bitch? You like massaging my big dick with your tight pussy?"
"Oh yes, I love your big dick in my tight pussy, please please please cum in my pussy."

I expected Sheila to get mad since Mom actually seemed to be pretending she was a guy, but instead she played right along.

"Are you sure? If I cum in your pussy you might not get your ass fucked tonight."
"Oh baby please fuck my ass I need you to hurt my little ass with your big cock."

Wow. Even having seen the butt-plugs for myself that day, I hadn't fully made the connection that my Mom and Sheila enjoy anal sex. I started rubbing myself again. I wished I had something to play with my asshole with (using my fingers did not occur to me at the time) so I could feel a little of what mom was feeling.

I listened at the door for a couple more minutes, and heard Mom's initial moans as Sheila pushed the strap-on into her ass. Eventually they built to a rapid rhythm (I could tell by the sounds of flesh slapping) and I got so excited I just had to see. I pulled my hand out of my panties, licked my fingers clean, put on my best "I have been laying down trying to sleep for two hours like a good girl" face, and threw open their door.

I saw Sheila mounted on top of Mom doggy-style, with a large dildo hanging halfway out of Mom's pussy, a magic wand on her clit, and Sheila's very large, very REAL, attached to her, non-strap-on, actual fucking human dick buried to the hilt in Mom's asshole, and it just so happened that at the moment I threw open the door they had both begun to orgasm. I saw mom collapse and begin to convulse wildly on the bed, and Sheila followed her down, obviously pushing hard as if to bury MORE than all of her dick in Mom's ass while she came.

I watched until they both stopped shaking, and they didn't notice until I spoke. "Uh, mommy?"

Sheila immediately jumped off of Mom. Mom gasped at the shock of her emptiness, and I saw two things that would become a lifetime obsession for me: a woman's (my mother's!) gaping-wide asshole, and a long, fat, beautiful, glistening tranny cock. It must have been 9 inches long, and if anything unusually thick for its length. My pussy was BURNING.

I received a 15 minute impromptu lecture on sex, gender identity, and privacy, generated an excuse about looking for some tylenol, and went back to bed to frig myself into a fucking coma.

does anyone else ever wish they could get away with murdering someone?
i work at this building, and one of the residents is this insufferable cunt of a woman. she's a total bitch, she lies and tries to get me fired on almost a daily basis. but when she makes up lies to get me in trouble, i just wish i could use the key to her place, suffocate her with a plastic bag and have the whole thing be classified as an accident.
i wish there was something i could do to get back at her. suggestions??

I confess that last night I drank Ciroc vodka with my bf and we got wasted. We started to argue and i pushed him as far as I could until he snapped. I liked the way his hand felt around my throat suffocating me. I liked when he hit me in the face and threw me around. it really got me wet. He's usually a nice man, that's what makes me love it even more. I really feel accomplished when I get him going.

This is me a few years ago with my clitty locked, my ass plugged, in slutty lingerie, waiting for a gorgeous young black girl i met online to come over. She said she was into dominating and owning a sissy slave boy and would be taking the keys to my cage with her and would use my desperation to cum to make me into anything she wanted me to be.

I was dressed in a black, lace teddy, fishnet thigh high stockings, a modest pair of black heels and most importantly, a big black butt plug, trapping a few ounces of cumlube in my boypussy. I had given myself an enema and restricted my diet, so my hole was extra squeaky clean.

As soon as she came inside, she took one look at me and said "good, here, take these." and handed me 3 pills. I recognized the bar of xanax and what looked like viagra, but Before i could ask about the other one, she grabbed my wrist, pulled me into my room and shoved my onto my bed, face down. I swallled the pills, and figured I'd taken much more than that before.

"Dont fucking move." She had already noticed the cuffs at the corners of my bed and restrained my wrists and ankles. She reached under my caged clitty from behind and gave it a yank, so she could see it from the back, between my legs, and thats when she noticed my plugged ass.

She gave it a few solid smacks, and asked, "How long have you had this in your pussy?" As I opened my mouth to tell her, she grabbed the base and yanked it out of my asshole, which was incredibly painful, enough to make me scream a humiliating, girly squeal. I heard her laughing behind me... I was genuinely in so much pain, I had tears running down my face, and i could feel my hole convulsing, stretched wide open, with warm cumlube pouring out. She assured me that the pain would be temporary, and said something about being addicted to her big black cock. I was only able to mumble, "mmmhmmm."

She stripped down to her panties at the side of the bed, and teased me while I watched her rub oil all over her smooth, perfect, chocolatey skin. The scent was intoxicating, and soon I forgot about the pain in my boypussy, and tried to reach my strapped down arm out to her. I cought the waistband of her Thong, and as she backed up, her panties came down her hips a bit. She chided me and told me boys like me dont deserve pussy.

I whined, and continued to stare desperately at her beautiful glistening body, perfect round tits, proportional with an ass that id let suffocate me... legs that lead right up to a lean, panty clad groin..... my clitty was throbbing uncontrollably. She then stepped onto the bed, straddled my gaping, lubed up asshole, and said, "Pussy boy sissies like you will never get pussy again, not now, not ever. Do you understand?"

I nodded, and wiggled my ass to her, and she said, "From now on, you belong to Big Black COCK," and after a few suspiciously warm and fleshy feeling smaks around my cheeks and hole, I could feel the pills kicking in... I felt like a cock hungry whore willing to do just about anything to get off. I could feel myself slipping into a sedated, obedient, slutty mindset, and my whole body felt like it was glowing, with a soft, warm, buzz. My mind was escaping me, leaving my body to be nothing but a fuckhole sex toy for the woman on top of me, teasing my ass with her fingers and pouring copious amounts of slimy stringy lube directly into the gaping boyhole.

Then i felt a few more teasing, fleshy smacks against my hole. With what little coherence i had left I remember saying in my head, "thats one realistic dildo... mmm" and i could imagine a throbbing, girthy, veiny BBC, breeding my cunt like a real girl, trained only to cum from being fucked, serving only black cock, for the rest of my life.

Without warning, she shoved the entirety of apparently, her 11" Big Black DICK—NOT a Strapon, Not a dildo—SHE WAS A TRANS WOMAN. I had never been with a guy, and was never turned on by men or boys, and it was making me so horny and confused that I liked this... a lot.

That was her DICK tapping against my ass. A REAL PENIS. Unlike my useless caged nub, she was endowed by the Gods, and I could FEEL IT. I actually liked it... I mean, its gotta be better than a dildo, right? Why use cold, hard rubbery plastic when you can have the real deal? Well, this was the realest fucking deal I have ever made. She got to know me as a woman, and had all the aspects and traits of a beautiful, sexy, charismatic black woman, but she had a dick... And she was having her way with my helpless, intoxicated, submissive body, raping my wet, hungry fuckhole with her long, thick COCK.....

And I was in heaven, I could feel the sensation of tingling buzzing warmth, head to toe, and felt her giant BBC directly penetrating almost a foot inside me, while every inch of her massive Dick made full contact with my P-spot every single stroke.

She wasted no time, and was already fucking me at full speed, pounding my lube-filled, sloppy, gaping wet boypussy, with her grabbing me by the back of my neck, forcing my face into the bed and spanking me repeatedly. She called me all the degrading, derogatory, humiliating names ive ever heard, and then some. I felt like my entire existence was about to change forever, as she dangled the keys to my cage in front of my eyes, and told me my useless clitty is never going to be used again, and that had better learn how to have anal orgasms because that's the only way sissy slaves cum.

The viagra made my clitty strain against my cage, and i could feel a distinct stream of cummies pouring out of the tip, with more and more every thrust. The sedating effects of whatever else she gave me caused me not to notice i was moaning and saying, "yes...... yess...... fuck me........mmm"
I felt her change angles and alternated between slow, forceful thrusting, to deep, rapid short strokes of her giant cock, and I felt a strange feeling in my clitty and boyhole at the same time.

It grew into a feeling like I had to go to the bathroom, and I panicked, but I knew I didnt have to, and had just had the enema.... then it turned into a throbbing, pulsing sensation inside my ass, right behind the base of my clitty.... She was fucking my asshole relentlessly, and the sounds of her meat penetrating my pussy were like a trance. She noticed my throbbing boycunt, tensing up and spasming, "Ohhhhh who's a good gurl? Are you gonna cum, babygirl? Hmmm? You gonna cum like a slut for mommy's BBC? If you do, you're never going back to normal. You got that, bitch?"

I was too overstimulated to reply, and suddenly the sensation exploded within my inner asshole, sending waves of orgasmic ecstasy to every inch of my body. I had tunnel vision, and all the sounds around me morphed into one continuous, godlike aural sound, while i was left helplessly convulsing with my arms and legs strapped down, and i could feel a non-stop burst of cum being shot out of my clitty, squirting all over my bed and pooling between my legs, as I gave in to the single most intense and surreal full body anal orgasm, which seemed to go on, and on, and on, and on...

To this day, i have no idea if it was 60 seconds, or 60 minutes. I came so uncontrollably with a Trans Woman's BBC literally fucking the cum out of me while my mind melted, sedated and rolling on some Molly-like drug at the same time, while being forcibly aroused by viagra, making my clittly feel so tight and confined, throbbing and spurting cummies all over from within its cage, while the keys dangled from her neck, and she reminded me of the fact that I'd be chasing this experience for the rest of my life, and that she and her BBC were my only hope, and my primary goal in all of life, and wouldn't have it any other way!

I have been a member of this site for 7 years, and for another bunch of years before that when it was called something else--anyone remember that? hmmm-I can't recall the old name. It'll come to me.
anyway, while searching around the other day, i typed in something like "young teen" or maybe something like "very young"--I was looking to see how young they try to make these girls look. You know! like when they are 42 years old and act like they are 10--pigtails and braces on a tired, c-grade milf--and it's called: "stacey's bedtime story for daddy"--she's 42! Who's believing this?..it's weird.
So, I was surfing around and I must have done something wrong because I got this quick message that stated something like
"BAD!!!that was an unacceptable search word and a notification has been made ...
I'm not sure what it said, but it freaked me out!
I've seen alot of bullshit on this site, things I do not want to see--they seem to have finally gotten rid of things like... women sucking dogs fucking shit covered corpses while getting their heads shot off--I used to complain about that stuff!!
or... fake Pictures of nude 8 year olds. Or... Just plain death! those delightful pictures of people suffocated and hanging. or... even better, bloody shreds in the middle of a road...very hot.
(there have been improvements on the horse fucking front--Death still seems to linger. hmmmmmm.)
Anyway, I am afraid I'm now on some bad porn guy list. After all these years, I'm thinking of bailing. This and one other site are the only ones I ever go to in all these years because there is a lot of material and it seems/ seemed free from bullshit. I am as middle of the road as you go. yet I somehow triggered something somewhere for the first time ever.
(I'm blocking on the original Motherless site name.)
Wait!! Hide Behind???
Is this not a good place to be anymore?
comments?