I confess that, years ago, I messed with a coworker so often that I may have caused some mental damage. I was in my low 30's and he was about 21 and was new at our firm. His name was Kenny. We became pretty good friends and would hang out from time to time. Not sure who instigated the pranks, but it was on. I guess I exploited his inexperience and was always one step ahead of him. One night, we were on my front porch and he reminded me of just how many things that I did to him. Most of them I had forgotten and have since forgotten again.
I do remember when he and I, along with another friend, went to a bar. We were playing billiards when a cute dishwater blonde came through the door. She sat at the bar and Kenny couldn't take his eyes off of her and continuously spoke of how cute she was. I went over to the bar and told her I needed a partner in a game of pool. So we played against the two friends. Kenny became even more intrigued with her. Later, she and I went back to the bar for a beer. Kenny naturally followed and stayed close to our conversation, although he couldn't hear it. I took advantage of his eagerness to join the conversation by fabricating flaws about him to her and then pull him into the conversation at the precise moment. For instance, I told her that he was a little slow and that he was in Special Education classes in high school because of those mental issues. I added that Mrs. Dothard was his Special Ed. teacher. At that moment, I turned to him and asked "Kenny, you know Mrs. Dothard don't you?". Again, his eagerness to join the conversation led him to lean in and reply "Yeah, yeah. yeah!". I went on like that for about an hour. When I told him the next day at work just what I was doing, he was both embarrassed and a little pissed.
I also remember that I would keep some candy on my desk at work and Kenny would go to my desk and eat some of it when I would leave the room from time to time. One day I sprayed some M&M's candy with hairspray, put it back in the opened bag and placed it on the filing cabinet. I pretended to go to the restroom, turned and walked back in the office. I caught him halfway from my desk to his, spitting out M^M's.
I introduced Kenny to a lot of classic rock and roll that he had never heard. So he liked to ride out to my place and listen to my albums. Only after 4:20. For you younger generation, music used to be recorded on vinyl discs called albums. I bought an album cleaning brush from Kenny. He placed a small sheet of paper in the brush case that read "FOOL", which was his nickname for me. I played an album the first night that I had the brush and found the note. He asked me every day at work if I had listened to an album the night before. I always replied "No, too busy". He followed me home one Friday after work to chill and listen to music. As we walked in the door, he tells me to put on an album. I made up something that I had to do first and for him to play one and I would play the next. I insisted he use the brush. When he did, he found my note that read "FUCK YOU".
I did other things, but I will end with this one. Kenny's car broke down and he needed to sell quickly. I gave him the name of a guy I know who owns a wrecker service, plus buys and sales used cars. Kenny contacted him and the wrecker guy offered him $400.00 dollars, sight unseen, for the car. Knowing the nature of the wrecker guy and how he would react, I told Kenny to call the guy back and tell him you want to shop the price. "He will offer you more money", I told Kenny. He did and the wrecker guy's response was "Good luck" and he hung up the phone. A month later, Kenny paid the same guy $100.00 to haul off the car.
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( part one can be found here https://motherless.com/boards/member/Chromenhawk/recent ))
Terror Weekend ( Part 2 - The Return )
Your breath was coming in short pants. You don't know how long it has been. Your rib cage is aching. You are scared. You read somewhere that if a person is actually hung by their wrists long enough the lungs collapse.
Your whole body is aching from shivering. Being naked is getting to you. The fucker has you hurting so bad and has barely even hit you. Just the environment is giving the beating.
The bleeding has stopped on your right foot. You almost had the knife. But it cut between your toes and when you flinched you knocked the knife over.
Then you hear the muffled sound of an engine approaching and stop. A car door open and close.
OMG ... he is back ... oh fucking thank god!
The door rattles and he walks in. His shirt in his hand a bag dangling from his fist. The mask still on.
He looks at the knife knocked over and you can sense his smile.
He looks at you and sees the look of relief on your face. That you are HAPPY he is back.
And the shivering stops. Replaced by a cold anger and focus. No way. No way is that smirking bastard going to get pleasure from your relief at his being there.
He walks up t you and runs his hand up your thigh, over your hip, and along your side to your left breast. You glare at him willing the thought "I am going to cut your balls off and fry them" into his head.
He smirks more and grabs the nipple and TWISTS HARD ... and keeps twisting harder and harder until your eyes close in tears and you moan out in agony.
Then he lets the nipple go and you are gasping and heaving again.
you feel his hand between you legs running the slit once, twice. Then open your eyes him licking his fingers.
You try to glare back again willing him to hear "So what. I am wet. My body betrays me, but you WON'T get the satisfaction of my mind."
You know this game. Maybe not this intense .. but you know it.
He walks behind you and you hear a thud. He probably threw the bag on the table.
Then you hear a whir and feel a strong wind on your backside. Cold freezing. The bastard turned the fan on. A little dragging as you are cussing him out and a click an hum and the air on your back suddenly becomes warm. Soothing warm.
You feel him behind you, blocking parts of that oh so wonderfully warm wind, and your feet are pulled together. And something is being wrapped around the ankles. Looking down yuo see it is vinyl tape.
His mouth is on your ass then. kissing, licking the sweat. A nip and a bite. The moan escapes your mouth through the gag. So soft and sensual. So much like the fuckhead is worshiping your ass. But the softness with the warmth feels so good.
And then his mouth is gone and you feel the full strength of the warm air. Drying his saliva on your ass.
Almost drying the fluid between your tied together legs. The leaking you had from that soft sweet mouth on your ass.
You let your head drop and shake it. NO!
No letting him think you like it in your mind.
A click and your hands get yanked up a bit, the agony of stretching , but then the clink clink of the metal and you fel your body getting lowered.
Not sure if you are relieved or not. He is ready to use you. But GOD! The relief of the chains and being stretched out after all those hours he was gone.
You body pools to the floor and you sob. And the fan is changed again so it is blowing over your whole body.
You relax into it but mind tense for the assault to come.
You hear the clatter of a chair and a little rustle.
And again the screech ... the damn screeching.
You look back. He is sitting there, sharpening the most wicked knife you have ever seen. Just sharpening. Barely paying attention to you.
Next to him is a big fan blowing air through a space heater.
All he did was protect the health of his fucktoy. Broken toys don't give blowjobs ... you hear that once.
He s just sitting there and the screech of the whetstone on the knife is driving you nuts.
And you remember the OTHER knife. The one he threw down earlier that cut your foot.
You relax. Let the warm air work into your muscles. Wait for him to get into his routine. You will teach him not to think.
Carefully you shift your body. AS if trying to get comfortable. To let the hot air from the fan get to other cold parts.
You wait.
You let your body stop trembling. Although it is aching.
YOu lay your head on your arm as if you are sleeping. And you so want to. But you pay attention. He runs his thumb along the edge of the blade and then starts to dig through a tool box for something.
And you reach out carefully and quietly for that knife. The one he forgot about. Fingertips touching the hilt. Ready ... for
Suddenly you feel yourself pinned to the ground. His whole body against yours.
Your cheek being ground into the wood floor. His breath on the back of your neck.
"I so wish you had gotten to it. It would have been more fun. But I won't let you win by not trying hard enough."
You feel him squirming on your back and then feel his pants sliding down. As he hold your face to the floor by the back of the neck.
His knee pins the small of your back and you feel a sharpness descend down your calf as he cuts through the bindings of your ankle bonds.
As soon as they are free you start to kick. and start to reach even harder for that knife. Just so close to your fingers. He PINNED you ... The fool didn't knock that knife away!
Suddenly he slams your face into the floor HARD ... and your eye and forehead hurt where he slammed it.
He slams AGAIN and AGAIN.
And you know you are about to pass out.
Your body feels flipped. Your legs shoved apart and you look up ... the darkness fading.
Just as you feel him enter you.
You try to scream ... and you realize you are screaming at YOUR body.
Because when he slid in? He had no problem. You were so wet, it just went right in.
His left hand wraps around your throat and you can feel him squeezing. Your breath catches. Your hands pushed above your head.
You knees, sliding along his hips with each thrust.
Your betrayer feet, on his ass. Not just held out unwillingly but on his fucking ass, pulling him in.
No breath, no gasp, mother fucker holding your arms above your head and chewing on your tits.
fingertips brushing the edge of that sweet knife you almost got ... sweet enough if you could just grab it and plunge it in his back.
And your hips tremble, your thighs quiver, your vision dwindles down to a pint from the lack of oxygen ... he is about to shoot ... you can tell ... if only ... the knife ...
And you feel warmth in your pussy ... a lurch, a growl, a grunt and ... the whole splash and you know ... not even a condom ...
and you cum with him ... in an explosive cum ...
as
his
fingers
around
your neck
make
you
BLACKOUT
Who has The Cramps.............on vinyl?
i confess i live with my dad and i was looking thru his old vinyl records and i found a set of photos of my mother stripping . i dont think my dad even knows they are there because he knew i was listening to some of the records . i think the photos are the horniest thing i ever saw, and i will be jerking off to them for years to come. Im no way showing my mothers face so dont ask . just wanted to show you that she is , or at least was, smoking hot.
I've always had this occasional fantasy that pops up now and again of me being forced to cross-dress (made to wear extremely slutty vinyl/pvc/leather/latex clothing, tons of heavy makeup, etc etc. The whole nine yards.) and be trained into a filthy, nasty, no limits whore/slave (fucking/sucking anything that walks, swallowing loads and loads of cum, made to do drugs & stay drunk, scat, beastiality... anything and everything, literally).
Its always more or less "came and passed", but recently it has been surfacing more and more and more, and its harder to get it off my mind. Im starting to think that that's like... 'my destiny'. Any thoughts? Comments? Anyone willing to help? Ideas?
Nude Vista Content
Allemande Pulpeuse En Robe Vinyl
Bossy Mistress In Vinyl Pants Dominates Naked Man In Homemade Vid
Girl In Tight Vinyl Catsuit Loves Dick And Cum
Sa Jupe En Vinyl M A Mis Le Feu A La Queue Je La Baise
Satin Blouse Vinyl Skirt, Sexy Stockings And Heels With Lady Lucy
