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I wants to beat me some bitches at a bar tonight

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MarthaStewart

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I have this desire to go to a singles bar and hurt me something pretty.

I want to find a beautiful woman, sitting at the bar, contemplating her pathetic existance and trying to drown out her thoughts of suicide by applying more makeup and drinking her fruity mix of poison. She looks around, for a friend, for a lover, for anything to make her feel less alone at the moment. Anything to mask her feelings of uncomfortableness - she always gets them, so why does she still come every weekend. And she knows this will never work out.

I want to walk up to her with a smile on her face and my fist clenching my balls with my hand thrust deeply into my pocket. Sure it hurts, but it feels so good when I stop.

I want to act like I care about what she is rambling on about - I want to pretend I give a flying fuck about her pathetic job that she isn't even any good at. I want to pretend that I am the someone that gives a shit about her in a world full of heartless, self preserving bastards. I want to pretend like she and I are made for each other, like we are going to become entwined as one and be the all knowing, all feeling spirit of love that transcends all which is around us and makes us, for one breif moment, better than anything else before.

Then while she is busy, sipping on a drink from her frilly drink to help block the pain and sorrow of the daily drudgery of life, her pathetic life, I will reach out with my hand and press it against the soft flesh of her breast - it doesn't matter which one.
I will feel the soft push as I apply pressure, I will feel the edge of her fucking push up bra collapse I press harder, feeling her breast give under the weight of my hand - the wire bending with the pressure.
I will grab onto her fucking breast like it is my only hope, the hand that reaches out to save someone off the proverbial sinking ship that is our fucked life here on Earth.
I will grab harder and harder, as if it is the only thing in my life that has meaning, I will exert every ounce of energy into crushing that in my first - and then I will twist it, I will wrench my hand around at first and then spin my whole arm up and over my head - as if I'm working heavy machinery and I have to get the fucker to stop - I need the cutoff valve turned over or we all die. Just one more turn. One more.
And then, just when she thinks that she can't take it any more, I'll pull her towards me and punch her as hard as I can with my other balled up first, right in the gut - making her vomit her cocktail all over her handbag and the bar in front of her.
Through tear filled eyes she will look up at me, the air knocked out of her and trying desperately to gasp for life filling air - anything - and she will look into my eyes with a look that is so satisfying - "why, why... why?"
I will look back with the detached view of someone that has just felt pleasure that they rarely acheive, but with my own sadness knowing that now that I have reached it, it will be that much harder to find the next time I go there.
My hands will relax, letting her fall to a crumpled heap on the floor and my shoulders will drop, spent with the experience and knowing full well that the police will be here in any minute, and I need to gather my resources to either fight my way out, or go peacefully as they wish.

Although, come to think of it, I might just rent a movie and stay in tonight. I hear there is a new one with Hugh Grant that has some really precious moments in it.
 
Do you have anything else planned? By that I mean that surely your appetite for abusing women could not have been satiated by that one encounter alone. You must have something else in the works and I would imagine that your plans become more and more elaborate as you gain experience hurting the opposite sex.
 
Nathan said:
Do you have anything else planned? By that I mean that surely your appetite for abusing women could not have been satiated by that one encounter alone. You must have something else in the works and I would imagine that your plans become more and more elaborate as you gain experience hurting the opposite sex.

Good point - I have to run to lunch - when I get back, I can relate plenty of experiences.
 
I find that the most satisfaction, and probably why I do it in the first place, comes from the looks on their faces.

When you lure a drunken college girl into an alleyway and then gut her like a deer, as her innards fall out in gooey stages she will look up at you with a combination of fear and pain, which is to be expected of course when you have been opened up like a fish - but there is a hint of something else, and that is what does it.

It is the hint that they just realized that they have wasted their lives.

You can just imagine them contemplating what better ways they could have served the world up until that point.
No matter since they soon collapse in a pile of their own fluids and I'm off into the night.
 
MarthaStewart said:
I find that the most satisfaction, and probably why I do it in the first place, comes from the looks on their faces.

When you lure a drunken college girl into an alleyway and then gut her like a deer, as her innards fall out in gooey stages she will look up at you with a combination of fear and pain, which is to be expected of course when you have been opened up like a fish - but there is a hint of something else, and that is what does it.

It is the hint that they just realized that they have wasted their lives.

You can just imagine them contemplating what better ways they could have served the world up until that point.
No matter since they soon collapse in a pile of their own fluids and I'm off into the night.

You don't masturbate on bodies or have sex with corpses then huh?
 
Nathan said:


You don't masturbate on bodies or have sex with corpses then huh?

Sometimes if they are passed out from the drugs, or if they are writhing in pain from a recently inflicted wound, I will take out my soft penis and mash it against the back of their knees.
Other times I will have explosive diarrhea in their open body cavities after their innards have fallen out or have been scooped out with something apropos that I found nearby (especially if I am in their house, this is frequently the case - I am amused if they are emptied by the posessions they previously felt completed them).

I assure you that the release I get from those things is far better than any sex with them.

Don't get me wrong, I have certainly raped and done far worse to both living and dead creatures - but I currently feel a lack of completion and/or satisfaction until I have made them reflect on things and then remove them from the gene pool that they have innfected for long enough.
 
Another problem with having sex with the girl is that after filling her mouth, gaping pussy, and her engorged ass with my man meat, I still feel the need for more - but what more is there?

But it never works out.

I've tried gouging out their eyes and then fucking that - but in the end there is always something sharp that hurts my tinklepie and the only real satisfaction is knowing that the screaming you hear is becuase of what you just did and then the fiction on those freshly exposed nerves.

I've also tried slicing open their sides and trying to touch their liver with my talleywhacker, but again, the only real satisfaction I get are the muffled screams into the rags shoved in their mouth once the chloroform wears off.

In the end, I've found that the only things that really are fufilling don't require sex, and leave less traces of me behind.
 
I'm not gonna lie to you - it hurts a little that Nathan gets reamed on and his post is on a woman's board getting railed on... yet nobody says shit about my posts.

Its okay, in time you all will suffer under the slow and tedious wrath of my flaccid cock, repeatedly smacking back and forth over your face before I strangle you in your drug inducd sleep.
 
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