Hello

I am a married white female in my early 30's. I have blond hair and am what most men would consider to be good looking. My husband and I have been married for 6 years. I recently discovered he has been looking at Interracial Pornography on the internet. Almost exclusively black men having sex with white women. There seems to be an underlying theme of White Wives cheating on their husbands with well endowed black men, sometimes with the white husbands being forced to watch.

This was a very disturbing discovery for me. I was appalled and surprised that my husband has so much of this stuff on his computer and in his internet history. What's even worse is he looks at "cuckold" porn and many of the women in these videos have the same look that I do. Thin, white women with with blond hair and blue eyes. If you do not know what interracial cuckold is, it's pornography where a white man watches his wife wife have sex with a black man. The black man always has a much larger penis and the white man is verbally and physically humiliated by his wife and the black man. Why does my husband look at this stuff? Is it possible that he is thinking of me while he watches it? Why would he fantasize and masturbate to thoughts of me with black men?

As I found this pornography on my husbands computer, I began looking at it more and more. My husband doesn't know that I know about his fetish. It began is detective work to find out what turns him on and what he spends his time looking at.

I was raised in a racist family in the south and was taught to stay away from black men. I have never been with a black man. And now here is the even bigger problem.

It's beginning to turn ME on as well. When I was looking at my husbands computer there was one picture of a blond girl that looks a lot like I do, with a very large black man. I was shocked and excited at the size of his penis. I hate to admit it because it makes me feel so ashamed, but I masturbated that night while viewing the picture. I didn't want to, but I was so turned on that I felt like I couldn't stop myself. I felt dirty afterward but it was just the beginning of my addiction.

Now I've began viewing these interracial picture of black men with with women on my own computer. These fantasies are dominating my sex life, and I've lost interest in having sex with my husband. Just the sight of a black mans penis seems to get me going and I can't stop thinking about it. One re-occurring fantasy I have been having is being "taken" by a group of 5 large black men. When I go out in public and see a black man walking by, I think about him sexually even if my husband is by my side.

This is an intrusive fantasy that has been affecting my marriage and sex life. I would like to know what I can do to stop it, and get my husband to stop looking at it as well.

I get called an asshole for this a lot but I am a bi male and I don't date outside my sexual orientation... sorry faggots and breeder chicks, can't whine about it being unfair and then call me bigoted because I want nothing to do with either of your paranoia, one thinking I am a part time BFF when I am not femme at all and am covered in ink nor do I wan't some dude that is a hormone shot away from being a pre-op tranny who mentions being gay in every other sentence.

A fair number of bi chicks are sluts that break hearts as are bi guys and then there are the emos and sluts and "transitioning fags/dykes" that claim to be bi because they pecked someone on the cheek that was the same sex once.

Straight people, you all are cool... the LGBT (the BTs that hate themselves and like being niggers to those bulldukes and flamers are our trash that you get) community, fuck all of you, except for the bisexuals and transgendered people that got out of that jewish racket.

With that said, I got it made, I date a hot guy who looks a lot like me covered with tattoos (he has ear plugs though and my tongue is split like a snake).... straight chicks and flamers always give us the glare and the bi female couple we fuck, you poor straight dudes have to get on pornhub to pound it to... so to the few that think I am a faggot, have at it

hottest bestiality story ever?

dog Rapes Woman

Archive name: not.txt (F/beast, rp, v)
Authors name: Kellie C. ([email protected])
Story title : Not a Woman's Best Friend
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2003. Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story. You may post freely to non-commercial
"free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites.
Thank you for your consideration.
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Not a Woman's Best Friend (F/beast, rp, v)
by Kellie C. ([email protected])
***






You know all those stupid Internet stories floating around about how women like having sex with a dog and they have great orgasms and end up not only fucking them but sucking their dicks? What absolute bullshit! This is a more realistic story.
***


My name is Christine and I was raped by a dog. I was thirty-two years old at the time (I'm thirty-five now) and living twelve miles east of Seattle,
Washington. The only reason that I'm telling you this is because of all the stupid Internet stories floating around about how women are won over by having sex with a dog and have great orgasms and end up not only fucking them but sucking their dicks. That is such bullshit.It was a Saturday morning and I was cutting my lawn. The house I was renting had an attached garage and a medium-sized yard. It wasn't the greatest house in the world--or
even in Seattle--but it was clean and well maintained and it fit my budget. I was mowing along the front sidewalk, made a turn back toward the house when the sound of a car's tires screeching on the pavement behind me made me jump. I turned around quickly, half expecting to see someone flying through the air, but it wasn't a person at all, but a dog.



He had come out of the woods across the street and tried to cross the road; now he stood just inside the verge of the woods again, looking back over his shoulder. His ears were laid back on his head and his tail tucked smartly
between his legs. The driver laid on his horn, yelled at the dog fiercely, and then sped away. As the car drove out of sight, the dog cautiously reemerged from the woods and sat down on his haunches. He was a black Labrador Retriever, a big one, and he watched me with a dog's typical aplomb, ears pricked up and head canted to one side as though wondering what I was doing over here. I had never seen him before and guessed he was
lost. I called to him and it was obvious that he heard me, but for some reason he ignored my call and I thought, Well fuck you too, doggie, and went back to cutting the lawn.



After finishing up, I went into the house and made myself a roast beef sandwich with a cold glass of milk and watched the noon-time news. Just as the news was going off, I heard a dog whining outside my screen door and I
went to have a look. Of course it was the black Lab."Hello," I greeted him. "You decided to be social now?"He was bigger than I had originally thought, at least 120 pounds, and although he didn't have a collar on, from his appearance it was obvious he belonged to someone. He was lost all right. His owner was probably looking for him now or would be soon enough. In the meantime, he looked pretty thirsty and I went to the kitchen and got him a bowl of water. When I set it near him on the porch, he backed away and wouldn't touch it until I went back inside and closed the screen door. "You are the weirdest dog I've ever seen," I said. This from Christine the expert, who'd never had a dog in her life.



I leaned against the jamb and watched him lap the water. He was watching me back. I tried talking to him in a soothing tone of voice, but he remained just as wary as ever. When I pushed open the door, intending to join him on the porch, he backed away and headed down the steps, took off at a run across the lawn. Just as he neared the curb, however, another car came around the bend going way too fast--as usual--and for a moment I thought the dog
would panic. But the driver laid on his horn and doing a one-eighty, the Lab bolted back towards my house, darted in behind the row of hedges beneath the front window and let out a frustrated woof! He just stood there panting.
If I don't do something soon, I thought, this dog is going to get killed. Not really sure what I was doing, I picked up the empty bowl, refilled it at the kitchen sink, then walked through the garage to the side door, opened it and set the bowl in the doorway. Then I walked a short distance away. "This isn't going to work," I grumbled to myself. "He wouldn't even let you near him."
A few minutes went by and the dog ventured far enough out from behind the bushes to sniff the air and observe me with his impenetrable black eyes. I couldn't help it, it made me shiver. I backed up a step and thought, Maybe
this is not such a hot idea, Chris. Maybe you should just go back inside, lock the kitchen door and call the damn pound.



But before I could reject this idea as plain old school-girlish silly, I heard the phone ringing and went back inside to answer it. It was Jean Michaels, a friend from New York with whom I hadn't talked in a long time. As I chatted with her gaily for the next half an hour, I watched through the open kitchen door. The dog never came in.
-- -- --



I shut the garage door and locked it. It was quarter to two and although I'd looked for the Lab all around the house and inside the garage, he was nowhere to be found. He'd done whatever it is lost doggies do, I guess...
gotten lost even more.Disgusted with the way I felt, I took a shower, toweled
dry, and put on a bathrobe. I was drying my hair when I thought I heard a noise from the garage. Not barking, but like someone thudding against the closed kitchen door. Armed with the blow dryer, I went downstairs and tip-toed cautiously through the living room and out into the kitchen. I could here him whining just outside the door. "Well, shit," I said aloud, at the sound of which he began to whine even louder and started a scattershot scratching at the door with his claws."Hold on, hold on," I said, wondering how he'd gotten in. I know the garage had been empty when I'd gone in to take my shower... at least I thought it had. He must have been hiding. Yeah, I thought, he must have been hiding.Opening the kitchen door just a crack, I watched him back
away to the far side of the garage and drop to his haunches. The water bowl sat empty beside his left paw. I had forgotten about it left it just inside the door. "Weirdo dog," I said.



Stepping into the garage, I closed the kitchen door behind me and predictably he got up and moved cautiously away to his tight. "You don't trust anybody, do you boy? Or is it just me?" He sat down again and watched me with
those polished black eyes. And then he growled.If I had been nervous before, now I was scared. You never showed fear to a dog--that's what I'd always heard--and it was obvious to me why. They can smell it on you. I clutched the bathrobe closed at my throat and took a wary step backwards, and as soon as I did this he rose and stalked two paces forward, teeth bared."Nice doggy," I squeaked. "Grrrrrrrrrr," rumbled out of his throat, low, deep and menacing. He took another pace forward, dropping lower to the ground and showing all his teeth. If I made a run for the kitchen door I knew he'd be all over me before I got three feet. "What's going on boy?" I said in a small, quavering voice. "You gonna hurt me? I tried to help you, you know." I was standing with my back against the side of the garage before I knew I had been moving. He approached me from my right, herding me away from the kitchen door,
toward the corner in the rear. I was terrified now. I was beginning to panic.
"Nice doggy," I squeaked again. "Nice puppy dog, doggie." Only this dog was anything but a puppy. He was a demon in black fur.



Refusing to be cornered like the desperate animal I knew I was becoming, I angled away and moved toward the center of the floor. The dog didn't like it much, but he let me do it. I began to think--pray--that he'd let me go all the way to the outside door and go through it. Just as it appeared he'd actually let me go, in a terrifying blur of motion, he leaped at me through the air. I shrieked and put my arms up but the force of his lunge knocked me to the floor. I banged down on my back striking my head on the concrete and hot sparks erupted like a 4th of July fountain across my eyes. My vision doubled and became alarmingly blurred. When it cleared again--too late--I found he had straddled me, fangs bared just inches above my throat. I was going to die.
But the dog had other ideas."What do you want," I pleaded in a tiny, terrified voice. My bathrobe was open, leaving me fully exposed. His hot wet prick dragged back and forth across my uncovered stomach, making me shudder and want to scream. At first I didn't even know what it was. When I finally did, in that same tiny, terrified voice--terrified now for an entirely
different reason--I protested, "No way!" and tried to scuttle away. He took my throat in his teeth."Okay, okay," I breathed with my eyes clamped shut.
"Whatever you want." I relaxed myself with a titanic effort and spread my legs. Again, the dog had other ideas. He released my throat and growled."What?" I was honestly baffled. He growled again. He made circular motions with his
head... I swear, he actually did this... and I slowly got the message. "On my knees?" I quavered in disbelief.The dog, who was not a dog at all, but the aforementioned demon from hell, nodded his head.



"You want to mount me?" A breathless whisper. He nodded again. I rolled onto my stomach and started to get up. Before I could get all the way up onto my hands and knees he batted my on my rump with his snout."What?" I was beginning to think I was already dead. Or in some nightmare dream caused by the concussion to the back of my head. It really ached. He growled and shook his head sharply to the right. Away from my body. And suddenly Iunderstood. "This is not real," I whispered. "It can't be real. It can't be. It just isn't happening." He wanted me to disrobe.Rising erect from my knees, I slid the robe back over my shoulders and let it fall into my hands. I began to bring
it around when he snatched it roughly away from me and flung it across the floor. It landed near the garage door with the arms in an out-flung, helpless gesture. That's how I felt--totally helpless. I was naked with a dog.He batted me again with his snout."What?" I objected, beginning to loose my cool. The
crippling shock and disbelief had begun to wear off and I was becoming rebellious. Damned if I was being corralled by a dog.



Suddenly he was up on his rear haunches, one talon-clawed paw on either of my shoulders and the back of my neck clamped firmly between his teeth. His breath flowing around my neck was horrid. "Okay, okay," I acquiesced. "I get the point." Then, as the powerful muscles in his jaw began to clamp shut on my neck, "Please! Anything you want!" It was a short-lived rebellion. He dropped back to all fours and so did I. He sniffed me up and down my flank and licked my right cheek. I took it. He snuffled into my right ear and bit lightly at the
lobe and I took that too. All the while I smelled his graveyard breath. What the hell was he doing? For a moment neither of us moved. He stood there panting, beside my right shoulder, facing me, and suddenly I understood. This was some kind of dominance thing, what I had occasionally seen one dog--presumably the alpha male--do to another. He was doing it to me. I got it, I
thought. Loud and clear. You're the alpha. I'm the bitch.Satisfied (he read my thoughts in my body language, there's no other explanation) he grunted lightly one time, then went to stand behind me. I stared straight ahead panting. He had really hurt my neck. Good luck, Christine, I thought. A dog is about to fuck you.



He sniffed at my pussy (I hate the word with everything I am, but I just can't think of a better one to use), then snuffled it like he had done to my ear. I tried not to jump but the shock was just too great. I gave a little shriek and sidled forward. He growled. "Fuck you!" I said vehemently under my breath. "I don't
like it, okay!"He obviously did, because a moment later his tongue went
from halfway to my navel all the way up the crack of my ass to the small of my back. This time I really did shriek and I surged forward in alarm. I also looked back over my shoulder in horror as ever nerve ending in my body jangled. It was like getting scrubbed by a warm, wet length of Scotchbrite.I didn't move. I didn't breath. I felt sick at my stomach. I wanted to puke. He licked my pussy again and I made a disgusting noise, something a real bitch might make. Tears leaked from my eyes and splattered onto the concrete below, sucked up almost immediately by the dust and porous surface. It wouldn't stay that way for long, not if I started bawling. When I started bawling. He lapped at me for a full minute, then two, getting me slathered up and absolutely raw. I felt every little sandpaper bead on his tongue and because I routinely shave to keep myself clean--I had done so only that morning--there was not even my wispy blonde pubic hair to offer any protection. My clitoris, my swollen outer lips, the mouth of my vagina, my urethra and especially my poor little anus all got the treatment. And the way he went after me with that tongue, with such unbelievable vigor--he'd driven me six feet or more across the floor--you'd think I was a sugar-coated treat. To him, I guess I was.Then he mounted me and locked his powerful forepaws around my waist and I squealed in complete and utter terror. He shoved forward with his cock, not so much searching for my pussy as dive-bombing it. I wailed again and tried to crawl away across the floor but he lunged forward over me and grabbed my neck again with his teeth. He bit down hard and growled an angry, you stay the fuck put! snarl, breaking my skin with his teeth--not deep, just enough to get his point across--and I could feel blood seeping out of the wounds. "Okay," I brayed. "I'm yours! I'm whatever you want! I'll do anything you tell me to! Just please, please don't hu--"



I sucked in an agonized breath as something hot and sticky and the size of a baseball bat entered my pussy. Then I shrieked and then I caterwauled--quietly, as those teeth still dug into my neck--and shook my entire body
trying to get him out. Instead, he worked himself even deeper."No," I sobbed. "Please no! Let me go!" Instead, I crawled forward under him six more agonizing feet until my head hit the back wall of the garage and then skidded
along its surface. I cried hot, sulfurous tears, the tears burning my eyes, my nose, the back of my throat. The thing in my pussy was hot and sulfuric too, pounding in and out of me, gouging at my vagina, assaulting me, destroying my sanity one thrust at a time. It was more pain than I could ever have imagined.
"Nuhungunaaaah," something inside me cawed. I was no more able to make coherent noise than I was of having coherent thought. I was a woman with a demon on her back... and in her vagina.



Trapped against the garage wall, I began to turn in against it. Splinters from the exposed two by fours gouged me wherever I rubbed against them. (I'd later look like a comedy skit from Saturday Night Live or Mad TV or something. The Splinter Lady, I thought.) But as the splinters attacked the side of my right hand, my right forearm, then my elbow, my upper arm and shoulder and finally my right hip and my thigh, the Lab continued walking me forward with his thrusts. I scraped against the plywood sheathing of the exterior wall,
encountering a second two by four, then a third, and finally a forth.Then I was in the corner that I had avoided so many years before--right where my doggie master wanted me--he banged me head first into the two by fours in the corner there, driving me unmercifully forward until my head had only one place to go--down and against the floor. I knelt there, jammed hard against the studs, my cheek pressed brutally against the cold concrete floor while the dog
banged and banged and banged away me.



By now I was sobbing so hard my chest felt like an exploding bomb. My entire being ached. My vagina was beyond repair and still the dog fucked me. "Please God, please don't let him do this to me," I kept saying, over
and over again. The words came out as something no human ear could ever have understood, except maybe God's... and I don't think God was listening.
Twisted with my head locked against the corner studs, I found myself watching between my legs as the dog wailed away at me. His cock was as big around as my forearm--my father's forearm--pasty white with a cobweb pattern of
vicious red veins. It was a foot long at least. It probably was longer. But terrifying as it was, what was at the end of it was ever worse. Because there, twice the thickness of the shaft and an even angrier red and white color, was a horrendous round knot. "No," I moaned plaintively as the dog continued to rut me. "I can't. I can't. No, no, no, please."But the dog told me I could and that I would and very shortly I did. I watched as the knot grew nearer to me with every thrust. Then the thing hit me with a sucking, slurping sound that made me retch with revulsion, stuck in me for a moment before he yanked himself back... and the wave of pain hit me like a Pacific tidal wave. On the fifth try he finally made it in and I was thrashing around wildly with the pain and making horrific noise and beating at his flanks with my fists. Then something hot and wet came cascading down my thighs and splattering on the concrete floor beneath our coupled organs, my guts cramped so violently that I screamed...
and then I was gone.
-- -- --



The dog was laying in the far corner of the garage, cleaning himself and ignoring me completely. On the floor beneath my crotch, where I expected a huge mass of blood, I saw something possibly even worse: a grossly-puddled mass of foamy, already crusting over semi-white fluid... his cum. I had been thoroughly rutted.I found I had bled very little. How he could have driven
such a huge and misshapen thing such as that into me without puncturing something vital or causing me to hemorrhage I don't know. Feinting when he reached climax must have provided me just enough flexibility to spare my
life. I think I sat on that floor for the better part of an hour, staring at nothing. My pussy ached and my guts were roiling inside and I felt numb like a block of wood. Never in my life had the thought ever entered my mind that a dog might actually fuck me. I had imagined it of course (I believe all women have) but imaginings are supposed to stay in the realm of imagination. Not show up in your garage. "I want to go home," I said. The words sounded so good to me, so reassuring. My home was only 15 feet away. But again, the dog had other ideas.



The second time he came for me I just let him. I got on my hands and knees, docilely let him mount me, then put my chest and my face on the cold concrete floor and held myself open for him with my hands. I didn't fight him at all. When he came out of me somewhere about halfway through, and mounted me in a different way, I shifted my hands to my buttocks and spread them far apart. It hurt his being in my ass (getting past my poor little anus was really
tough) but not as bad as I had thought. It was my first anal experience and he spared me the ordeal of his knot. The third time I lay on my back with my legs drawn tight to my chest and let him rut me like that. I think it was a new experience for him and I'm not sure he even liked it. Are you trying to breed me? I asked silently of his inhuman, polished black eyes. Am I supposed to have puppies? If so, It would be quite a litter. And then I had an orgasm. I didn't want it to happen. I fought against it with everything I had, but it was involuntary and unstoppable. He was doing me with such savage determination that I think I had no choice. He suddenly slowed down and his muscles tensed and by this time the pain from his knot had almost gone away. He prepared to unload in me and when his first shot came, hot and gushing and spilling out my cunt all up my thighs and down over my asshole, I could not stop. I came and he came and the two of us came together, him squatted over me not moving, just emptying his testicles of their unbelievable load. I clutched myself behind my knees and prayed for it all to end. His gushing, and my orgasm. Eventually, they both did. Then he was finished with me.
-- -- --



What happened to the dog? I have no idea, and I don't ever want to find out.
After the requisite fifteen minute wait, his knot finally shriveled and he pulled himself free of me with a wet popping sound and his cum--that part which hadn't already sprayed out all over me--gushed out onto my thighs and down between my buttocks. Such an awful mess. Then he hobbled to the opposite corner where he cleaned himself and ignored me from then on. He had gotten what he wanted and that was that. I cautiously got to my hands and knees and, risking another go at it, eased my way toward the kitchen door. I quietly entered the house and closed the door securely behind me, never taking my eyes off of him. He heard the door close but he never looked up. Later, once I'd cleaned myself up and then cleaned up the mess in the garage. I had my 9mm Glock with me then and just dared him to move. I would have shot him on the spot except that I'd have to explain and I would never do
that. I never saw the mutt again.I now live in Atlanta, Georgia, just about as far removed from Seattle as I can get. I live in a nice little, two-story frame house with a nice little garden out back and a semi-detached carport on the side. I also have a female Doberman Pincher named Mary that I know will never try to fuck me. I only hope some other dog does, just so I can set her loose on him.


THE END
Note: If you want to reach me I can be easily had at:
[email protected]


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Please keep this story, and all erotic stories out of
the hands of children. They should be outside playing
in the sunshine, not thinking about adult situations.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

atrape.jpg

Absolutely non of this is fabricated and it’s 100 percent real. This happened about 10 months ago. So please, I don’t want any hate, im just seeking advice.

I still remember when I found out that my wife was cheating on me, it was one of the craziest days of my life, I’ve always fascinated with the idea of a cuckold relationship. I felt a sense of panic yet excitement in this situation.

Me and my now wife had a long distance relationship for several months. I was visiting her when this all happened. It was a Friday night and we both were getting ready to go out with a group of mutual friends. Recently Apple had added a new feature in which you could see recently deleted iMessage texts. Out of general curiosity while she was getting ready, I saw this as an opportunity to go through her phone. Some might think this is an invasion of privacy, but let me explain. Before we were married, she had previously messaged another guy in the past, with the intent of going over his house for some drinks. Her plan was to lie to me telling me that she would have to work late into the night and that we wouldn’t be able to sleep on FaceTime like we did every night. I had already confronted her on that situation before and I had forgiven her about that and she said it would never happen again, that it was a stupid mistake. Now back to my main situation. Which happens about a year later.

I went through the deleted messages, and to my surprise I saw a weird number saved under one of her female friends name with a bunch of emojis. Well the curiosity got the best of me and I re-opened the deleted chat. Boom, there it was. She was texting another guy, who she eventually told me would often go visit her while she was working.

The first message began with a simple “Hey, do you remember me?” She then responded with a “of course I do.” He then says, “I can’t stop thinking about you!” Which my wife responded with “I think about you a lot too”

In one of the messages he told her "I honestly can't forget your kisses that night, you did all of that on purpose. So that I wouldn’t be able to forget you” followed by “When I see you im going to fuck the shit out of you!” To my surprise my wife reacted to the message with “you better, but the issue is that I don’t work anymore and he’s always around it’s going to be hard to see each other.”

Living in a pretty small town, it’s not uncommon to see the same people everyday. Me and my wife walk to the gym, nothing unusual about, my wife wears the basic gym girl stuff. Leggings and a regular shirt. Never really put too much thought into it.

He then told her, “ I see you going to the gym almost everyday and I see the leggings you wear, that ass makes me sooo hard. I want to say something, but he’s always around you.” She responded “It’s not fair that you can only see me. I want to see you too, but if I look around too much he’ll get suspicious. Why don’t you come to the gym and watch me train? I want to see you at least for a couple of minutes!”
My wife eventually told him, “ I’ll try and find an opportunity to sneak out for at least 20 minutes, but I don’t think you’ll be able to satisfy yourself in that little bit of time.” He then said “With you, I’ll finish quickly.” At this point my cock was hard and my heart was raising. I was filled with anger and excitement. Anger based on the fact that she was cheating, but the excitement of imaging her pleasing another cock.
He then told her “just let me know if wanted you want me to pick her up at the same place I dropped you off last time.” She told him to send an audio message just so that she can 1000 percent sure confirm it was him, in which he did, but I quite honestly don’t remember what he said during the audio message. From there the messages had stopped.

At this point I confronted my wife and she began to cry, telling me that nothing ever happened, that they never had sex, that it this was a stupid mistake. I asked her about the “kisses” and she told me that he once dropped her off after work and had given her a kiss on the cheek and that was it. That she didn’t know why he was being so intense. Her excuse to the whole situation was that she was scared that he would do something to her. But what I don’t understand how can you be scared of him, but yet want to meet up with him for 20 minutes alone.

Regardless, What she didn't know is that while we were having this conversation. I was pretty hard, she was hysterically crying still, so seeing an opportunity to tell her I didn’t mind the situation.
I moved her hand on my cock so she could she how hard I was, but in doing that she started to cry more and she asked me with fear and panic in her voice “why are you hard!?! Wait, do you want to see me fuck someone else, what the fuck!” and seeing how she reacted I said "noooo love, that's not it, I’m just trying to change the topic” and I invented something to change the conversation. From there it took a while for our relationship to get back to normal.
But actually I do think about what they said over text and find myself running to watch cuckold porn and imagine it being my wife. I really want to be in a cuckold marriage. My wife lovessss watching double penetration porn and I sometimes as her if she would do something like that, but she’ll either say “baby, stop” or “we’ll see”.

In all honesty though with the reaction she gave me, I'm afraid to tell the truth now. So, I have two questions. Do you guys think that she had a sexual relationship with that guy that she was texting and two how can I “convince” her to cuck me?

I confess that I really want to be fucked until I cant walk, bruised and told what a worthless piece of shit I am. I shove the largest dildo I can find in my house up into my cunt fucking myself as hard as I can, but its not enough. I have never been able to fuck myself bad, hard and painful enough to satisfy this aching pain. I am transgendered (female to male) and I confess that I miss being treated like the whore of a girl I was. Now people read me as male and all I want is for someone to find out I still have a cunt and rape the shit out of me for it. Choked, slammed into the ground and fucked in every hole I have repeatedly. I dont want to die, but I want to hurt. Death is too easy, pain is better. I hate that I am like this, but I cannot deny my true nature. Even looking male, I am still just a submissive slut of a female.

Gay Marriage:

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

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

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

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

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

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.

My Best Mates Mum in law- Church goer,teacher and loving Wife/mother nowdays but not always so.
At a party other night and she had just a few too many glasses of wine haha and I got talking to her and kept the drink coming and soon she started to talk to me about things in her past Her words I was a stranger to her and easier than someone she knows I still am struggling to take on a lot of what she admited to in her past and all I can say is I wish I had been there too.
The best bit she was talking about her student days in England back in early 70s and how she was bit of a wildcard and run up a Debt to a Loanshark she had no chance to repay and bottom line he gave her the chance to do a couple of Pornos to settle up and she agreed.
She ended up doing 3 films for him First was with a Geezer from Manchester Tattoos goldchain the works standard Fare BJ and fucking Second was with another Student a Black guy from Trindad but the Third is the 1 she started to sob about when telling me and will always hate herself for doing.
Loanshark guy give her a choice she could clear off her debt with one film or at rate she was going another five all she had to do was fuck 1 of his dogs yes thats right a dog I couldnt belive my ears that she was telling me.
She then told me that it was the only thing in her Life she regretted doing and can never get it out of her life and that the bit that gets her the most was'nt the dog fucking her but fact she had to pick the 1 that done her adding insult to injury in her book.
So the Guy had 3 dogs a Dobermann a German shepard and a English sheepdog and she picked the German shepard supposly these Guy had been doing these for years and the dogs he kept were as soon as possible took away from their Mothers and kept on his smallholding in Scotland and never see another female dog only Human females and only when he had a film to do so they would equate women with sex.
Anyhow she told me to her regret that she took that option to get clear and told me that The GSD was going nuts as soon as she started to take off her clothes she barely had her panties off when Guy let him lose and he pushed her over and gripped her that tight (cut her just below her tits scars stillthere she showed me)and just planted his cock in her and plowed her for about 5 minutes before he knotted her which she says was worse thing ever happened her as he tied her for about same length of time but kept pulling her about to get to his food/water etc she said she pleaded with him to pour water on him as she had seen that work before but he refused incase it put off his dog then the shame before he took her back home he watched tape to make sure it came out all right and she saw herself been abused.
Thats it people still reeling with all this Me I want to see these films even the dog 1 as partial to watching a bit of beast but unless I pay her a vist and see if I can get titles or whatever I am stumped but silver lining I am gonna pay a vist and see if my new found knowledge will get me a fuck sure she is in her 60s now and older than my mum but have to admit she is OK looking still and anyway after her confession I have been nursing an almighty boner for her so wish me luck
Goodbye

Is a cunt a cunt?

I have a question. Are there guys out there that really would fuck any cunt - regardless of whether its on a girl or a tranny. I am wondering because I am a horny ass, trannyboy (yeah, that means I have a cunt) and I am so in desperate need to brutality but cant seem to find it. I get off on violence. Being told what a worthless whore I am and what is about to happen to me. I love the feeling of pain radiating through my worhtless cunt as it is raped. Anal is just as good. Cocks, fists, male, female, it doesnt matter so long as I can be treated like the filth I am. But fear of having to figure out how to appear male and want to be dominated as a girl has made it hard.

Seems to me a cunt is a cunt. The more you hate it, the more it doesnt matter what the body attached to it looks like. But maybe thats me.

I knew I had to come looking for something when taking pictures of my fuck holes made me so fucking horny and wet that I shoved the largest cock I could find in my drawer (a nice thick 3" around fat cock) into my pathetic hole and another in my ass and fucked myself until I cried. Its what I deserved for being a whore.

I need more. I want more. I want to be punished. Its not really a confession, because I know its what I like, but more of a plea.

I'm at it again. While surfing through the net I came across a cookbook. As I am alone, I am always interested in simple recipe's. But I think I will pass on this particular book. Cooking with Semen. It did get me to thinking. We have all heard of the, hopefully, urban legend of the Taco Bell sour cream. Some women swallow it. Most have tasted it and most don’t find it particularly distasteful. And it is primarily protein.
Years ago a female friend of mine just had to see me one morning. I went to her apartment and she proceeded to tell me that she had caught her boyfriend with another woman. She was going to have him over for supper and break up with him. Then she asked me if I masturbated. I was kind of surprised and finally said that I did at times. Then she asked me if I could do it now. I told her that I was sure that I could but why? She said that she wanted me to do it in a small bowl. Her boyfriend likes Blu Cheese dressing on his salad and she was going to make a special batch and tell him what was in it in a few days. She said that he wouldn’t even kiss her after oral, so that would fix him good. As much as I hated to, I told her that I wouldn’t feel right doing that. I wouldn’t want it done to me and I didn’t want to do it to someone else. The she asked me if I wanted her to do it for me. Now that was tempting as much as I love hand jobs, but  as hard as it was(difficult may be a better word), I had to decline. She said that she understood.
I am sure that she got a volunteer later.
Now I am wondering. Is this common? I am half scared to eat at someone else’s house now. It wouldn’t kill me and I will kiss a woman after oral and don’t feel less of a man when I admit that I have tasted it in a partners mouth. It's not unpleasant. I just don’t think that I'd want to make it a steady diet.
Has anyone else run into anything similar? I would love to hear your thoughts on this.

This is the dumbest shit I have ever read. This is why I hate muslims and can't stand islam. They're a bunch of bullshit artists that speak SHIT.

Question: Why can muslim men have as much women as they want and women be denied this same benefit?
Answer: Women get the same benefit but not in this life. Only in the next life. Praise Allahbaba.

http://www.islamweb.net/womane/nindex.php?page=showfatwa&FatwaId=83959

Question:
I don't mean to sound like a disbeliever, but scholars always speak of the reward for men in heaven how they will have "Hour al-'Een". How can a man can keep more than one wife? What's in it for women? I believe Allah to be a Just and Fair God. I just want to understand. If there are any books you recommend I would be grateful. I need to learn more because I feel that the way Islam is preached nowadays is undeserving to God. There are so many misconceptions and preachings that make you want to turn away from Islam. Allah is a kind God, Tender and Gentle with His worshippers. Where is all this meanness and bad presentations coming from?

Answer:
Praise be to Allah, the Lord of the World; and may His blessings and peace be upon our Prophet Muhammad and upon all his Family and Companions.

One has to believe that Allah, The Great and Almighty, is Just, Generous Affectionate, Wise and All-Knowing. He does what He likes and chooses; no one has the right to review or rebut His Orders. So, He, in His Wisdom, has chosen that a man can marry four women, not the opposite. Here, only those who have faith and insight can recognize the wisdom behind such a ruling.
He has decreed that a believer can take delight in a number of al-Hour al-'Een (dark-eyed damsels), while a believing woman only loves her husband and wants nobody but him.
Allah Says (interpretation of meaning): {And with them will be chaste females, restraining their glances (desiring none except their husbands), with wide and beautiful eyes. [37:48].
You have to know that there are no unmarried people in Paradise. A woman who was spinster or her husband was not from the people of Paradise will be given a husband and rewarded with Divine blessings and bliss, that no a human being can imagine.
In addition, know that there is no similarity between affairs of this life and those of the Hereafter.
In other words, a woman may wish to have more than one husband in this world, but she will not have such a desire in the Hereafter, i.e. in the Paradise, since her delight lies in having only one husband, without wishing a substitute.
This, in fact, shows completeness of the Divine wisdom, His ability and kindness.
Thus, a Muslim is advised to seek from this Present Life what leads him/her to the Paradise. In simple words, he/she does not have to be engaged with such matters (discussed in this Fatwa) that cannot be changed.
If Allah honors him/her with entering the Paradise, he/she will see what no eye has ever seen, hear what no ear has ever heard and what no one can imagine.
We ask Allah to make us and you from the people of His Paradise and favor.
Allah knows best.