😬 George the Carpenter 😬

😬 George the Carpenter 😬

Tyrone "Trigger Nigger" Trump.

Tyrone “Trigger Nigger” Trump.

Based on a true story involving niggers.

One man…

One preschool…

Everyday, the same impulses…

The same carnal imperative…

But today, George will take action!

Chapter 1: The First Abduction

George “The Carpenter” Rockefeller is a thirty year old hispanic community watch organizer from Sanford, Florida, but lives alone in a trailer park in Madison next to homeless muslims and obese mudshark mutants like Paul Ryan’s waifu because he’s poor and hispanic.

George was wounded by life.

He suffered three rejections: one in daycare, one in kindergarten and one in preschool (after that he suddenly lost all interest in women).

George is a broken man so please do not judge these acts too harshly.

George was peacefully patrolling his neighborhood, fighting racism and bigotry in the name of MLK the Black Founding Father, when he witnessed a sight that provoked an enticing yet ineffable biological reaction that he hadn’t experienced for nearly three decades.

He saw a 7-year-old African-American walking in a rather effeminate fashion, dressed in bright pink and carrying a Hello Kitty handbag with what he assumed to be his named stitches on its rear: “Trayvon, the Queen“.

This was too much for George who assertively grabbed little Trayvon by the hand like a true hispanic alpha male and disappeared into the mist…

24 hours later an AMBER alert was activated and an abduction notice was sent out to all Seminole police stations.

Chapter 2: The Sequestration

Paul Ryan, "An American Tradition".

Paul Ryan, “An American Tradition”.

George woke up covered in his semen after a short nap in which he dreamed of the SLUT Trayvon.

He hadn’t gone to work today, and instead planned to spend the day with little Trayvon.

Little Trayvon the SLUT of Florida hadn’t been sleeping because this SLUT couldn’t sleep and was crying like a nigger bitch without her weave and banana face mask.

George, being a kind man, begins to comfort the SLUT Trayvon by rubbing his unshaven and oversized hispanic cock over little Trayvon’s SLUT face.

Little Trayvon, being a 7-year-old African-American SLUT, rejects him and begins to scream.

George begged him to stop, claiming that he would alert the residents of his trailer park, but the SLUT Trayvon refused to comply so George only had one choice he pulled out his penis again and put it in Trayvon’s mouth.

As soon as his sexual organ came into contact with little Trayvon’s African saliva, George’s warm cock began to swell and progressively fill the entire buccal cavity of the little SLUT.

Chapter 3: George’s First Time Zimming

Last Time Anal, an Adult Comedy.

Last Time Anal, an Adult Comedy.

The little SLUT Trayvon finally went to sleep and George decided to go to work as any period of prolonged absence would seem suspicious, for he had no social contacts aside for Donald T. Muschigreifer his community watch supervisor.

But the foreplay that he experienced earlier in the morning awakened a deep carnal drive in George.

So powerful were his biological impulses that he couldn’t concentrate on his work and opted to go home early to see his new girlfriend, the little African SLUT Trayvon.

But just as George was entering his trailer park, he saw a vision that nearly froze his blood…

The African SLUT Trayvon had managed to escape from his mobile home.

He was nearly out of the house, it was a matter of seconds.

Distraught and confused, yet forcing himself to act through his stupor, George immediately grabbed the young SLUT by his curly Afro hair, dragged him back into his “house”, pulled out his stinger, proceeded to apply a severe correction to the SLUT’s rectal hole and finished the act by spitting his load on little Trayvon’s SLUT face.

The contrast between his white juice and Trayvon’s dark angelic face filled George with pride and racial bliss.

George was happy.

He had finally taken his revenge on Luciana, the mexican cunt who had rejected his sexual advances in kindergarten.

George wipes the precious liquid from the face of the little SLUT Trayvon and gently caresses his crying face.

Chapter 4: Sexual Interlude

There is only one kek.

There is only one kek.

Back in the Madison city police station, Assistant Commissioner Dylann R. Dächer was interviewing David L. Fahrspur, Lieutenant Colonel of the Sanford police department about a potential suspect in the abduction of Trayvon Martits, 7, African-American, gender unidentified.

The prime suspect was a hispanic man, George “The Carpenter” Rockefeller, who routinely traveled between Sanford and Madison for professional reasons.

He was reported late to his workplace on the day Trayvon Martits disappeared.

In addition, Trayvon’s single-mother (Sybrina, a diabetic African cunt with a lisp and fake hair) described a “brown nigga taco” who was “crossing da border” while frantically waving his dick at her 7-year-old son.


All Niggers Are Like Dat.

Dylann Dächer immediately dispatched a vehicle to apprehend the suspect and bring him into custody for a comprehensive interrogation.

Chapter 5: Last Time Anal

Tyrone says: Why be a racist when you can be a nigger?

Why be a racist when you can be a nigger?

Meanwhile, George was swelling with pride at the realization that he had finally lost his virginity with the barely conscious body of a 7-year-old African child.

– “This is what Anne Frank must have felt when she gassed herself” he thought.

He couldn’t resist bragging about his performance to his friends… I mean to his boss, Donald Muschigreifer.

But let’s not dwell on these insignificant and somewhat exaggerated stories.

The arrival of little Trayvon managed to brighten the morose and splenetic life of George.

Whenever he had free time, usually at work or while commuting, George found himself planning up to the minute detail of such things as their marriage, even going so far as to consider adoption and to ponder whether society would accept the idea of a (apparently retarded) 7-year-old African homofather.

While Trayvon was uncommunicative and rather cognitively impaired, both via his African genetic heritage and the sexual abuse inflicted unto him, he seemed to finally appear more responsive to the great delight of George.

Whenever he saw his captor, little Trayvon started letting out feeble cries and began holding his anus in a near fetal position.

Fifty Lampshades of Zyklon. A Tyrone Production.

Fifty Lampshades of Zyklon. A Tyrone Production.

The sight of this young SLUT holding his already badly damaged rectal hole in such a suggestive manner never failed to send tickles down George’s phallic instrument.

Trayvon progressively became George’s full time homowaifu.

George took that opportunity to test everything on little Trayvon: scat, uro, gangbang, exhibitionism, pyro, asphyxiation, BDSM, CBT.

But one day George brought home a special “Tyrone” dildo (45 inches wide, named after yours truly) he had found in a junkyard while coming home from work.

During the act, George decided to introduce the dildo in little Trayvon’s asshole without his knowledge.

Trayvon stopped making noise.

George was pleased as Trayvon’s constant screaming, while erotic at first, was getting rather distracting.

To reward Trayvon’s silence, George turned on the vibrating function of the dildo.

It was a carnage.

Trayvon’s little guts were sent flying all over the mobile home, carpeting the walls, covering the ceiling.

It was on this day that George earned his nickname, “The Carpenter“.

Chapter 6: Zimmerman of Steel

My wife. Michelle the House Bonobo.

My wife. Michelle the House Bonobo.

George didn’t even bother to clean the pieces of Trayvon’s prepubescent guts hanging from his ceiling fan, he immediately left his home, still covered in cum, blood and bits of African skin which considerably darkened his complexion (unless it was the shit from Trayvon’s bowels).

– “Why don’t you have a seat over there” said a voice from behind George.

George was then arrested by the Madison police department and brought to the police station for interrogation.

Having fucked little Trayvon like a pig for the past several days, George was naturally quite tired.

As soon as he was placed in his holding cell, he immediately fell asleep and dreamed of destroying Trayvon’s anal watermelon once more.

When he wakes up, a man is standing over him.

– “I’m Assistant Commissioner Dylann Dächer. You the pedobeaner?” he asks.

– “Yeah. Why?” George answers.

– “You’re free. Take a shower and go home.

– “Wut? I thought you were going to deport me lol.

The man looks at George carefully and then starts laughing.

– “We have the same pulsions, you and I. I understand you. Each time I bust a young nig for drugs or larceny I make a point to break both his asshole and any gunshot wounds on his firm body” says the man. “This, what’s his name… Trayvon? He was a Nazi. You did your country a service by removing a racist, fascist, homophobic bigot“.

– “Yes, I’m a hero. I’m the Zimmerman of Steel. I combat hate and bigotry in the darkest corners of Florida. I’m the hero niggers deserve, but not the one they need right now. I’m Florida’s reckoning.

– “You either die as a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain.

And thus ends (or begins?) the true story of George the Pedobeaner and his lust for African meat.

In exactly one week, when they celebrate Trayvon the cadaverous glory hole, be sure to correct the record by sharing the true story of George’s inspiring fight against racism, sexism and pedophobia.

Together, we can oppose the disinformation of the Alt-Right fascists and their fake news.

Dicks out.


Paul Ryan’s Autobiography 🤤

Paul Ryan’s Autobiography 🤤

Paul Ryan, "An American Tradition".

Paul Ryan, “An American Tradition”.

An American Tradition“, by Paul D. Ryan.

Chapter 1: The Awakening

I never really considered my 11 year old daughter, Elizabeth, as an object of sexual desire. It is my honest opinion that I am and have always been a caring, available, Christian, benevolent, feminist, anti-racist and protective dad. In short, a model modern father free of toxic masculinity 👌.

I considered her a sexless being… just as I consider my wife.

It was not a woman but a daughter.

Or so I thought.

My wife is very busy with both her professional life and her numerous sexual partners, and even during her free time she is very rarely at home.

Such was the case of this Saturday of June.

Paul Ryan cucks his entire family for Tyrone.

“Family values don’t stop at the lingual tonsils”.

On this particular weekend, my wife Janna had taken our two other children, Charles and Sam, to visit the sidewalks of Detroit.

For real estate prospecting 😕.

Elizabeth had refused to follow along, claiming her “holes were still sore” from last time.

Perhaps they were playing golf 🤔?

As always, I was sitting on an armchair in the living room browsing my favorite porn website, the DailyStormer, on my iPad.

The front page was occupied by a 4K HD video of what appeared to be my wife Janna 😚 being taken from being by four college-aged African-American males 🐵. I wondered if they were Christians.

Amongst the erotic moans of my wife, I reflected for a long time on the nature of the scene I was witnessing… These boys were not much older than Trayvon Martin, the innocent African-American child atrociously murdered by the White Hispanic Iranian Muslim KKK Russian NRA terrorist George Zimmerman.

"An American Tradition".

“An American Tradition”.

Perhaps if Trayvon Martin was still alive he would be ravaging my wife alongside his brothers. The mere thought of what could have been brought tears to my eyes. Tears of guilt. White male guilt.

Naturally I was also caressing myself while watching my wife being boned by Natural Conservatives in the making.

As I was approaching orgasm, I heard Elizabeth exiting her room upstairs on the second floor. She was coming down the stairs. She would inevitably pass next to me in a matter of seconds.

All she had to do to see her father both hands in his pants on a neon-Nazi porn site was slightly turn her head to the left.

Strangely, I was not disturbed by the thought of my 11 year old daughter watching me ejaculate in my $5 jeans. On the contrary, I felt aroused ♥️.

But she didn’t turn to face me. She continued walking towards the front door without a glance in my direction.

I felt a slight tinge of disappointment 😠 watching her pass a few feet by my erect cock 💪.

This morning she had told me that she would be seeing a few “friends”.

From where I was seated, I had a direct view of our front door. I saw Elizabeth go down the stairs and proceed towards the small entrance table on which the keys to the front door were lying.

As she grabbed the keys, she turned to me and said:

– “Ok, dad, I’m going out.”

No you little slut. You’re going back in your room like the dog whore prostitute you are.

Don’t think that just because your mother is out you get to call the shots here. This is my house!

And even the DNA tests did show that none of my wife’s children were genetically related to me, I’m still your FUCKING DAD as long as you live in MY HOUSE you cunt! Get it?

– “Y-Y-es”, I replied. “Have f-f-fun with your f-friends. And be careful of b-black people.”

A christian feminist™.

A christian feminist™.

She opened the door and it was then that she dropped the keys she had just taken. My daughter is particularly awkward and often drops whatever she is holding.

– “Shit!” she exclaimed.

She bent down by bending her knees to pick them up. And that’s the moment when something changed in my mind. I could see her from behind as she was lowering herself, the skirt she was wearing went up as her knees bent down. This action allowed me to see her light blue panties 😵 gently covering the prize that cost my wife 15K to surgically repair 🤔.

Elizabeth was going on her twelfth birthday in the Summer and she probably wore panties for a long time now, but I somehow had just never noted.

Adult entertainment, not so adult performers.

Adult entertainment, not so adult performers.

It only lasted a moment, she picked up the keys and left without saying a word.

It was well after she left that I noticed something peculiar… without conscious thought, I had nevertheless allowed myself to cream my pants while leering at my daughter’s preteen ass 😱.

I felt guilty for having this orgasm partly caused by my daughter. I tried not to think about it any more, but without success. Seeing that tiny bit of protruding fabric had turned my entire world upside down.

I spent the next 10 minutes browsing through the rest of the DailyStormer without succeeding in thinking of anything other than this piece of cloth.

And then my mind began to go into overdrive and drift toward something that I did not like either. I saw my daughter’s tight rectal hole beautifully caressed by my tongue.

My erection was back.

I told myself I had to stop thinking about Elizabeth in such as way.

Now it became serious.

I frantically scrolled through the DailyStormer porn categories to my favorite section, Black on Mentally Retarded Blonde.

I started to relieve myself in order to stop thinking about my daughter’s panties and butthole.

It worked. I masturbated successfully without any unwanted incestuous thoughts. I was reassured.

I’m still a good Christian feminist father.

Chapter 2: Tyrone J. Drumpff

A few days passed.

There is only one kek.

There is only one kek.

On some days I saw Elizabeth as a daughter and nothing happened but on others, I simply could not do otherwise than consider her as an infantile piece of unripe meat… which inevitably provoked immediate erections.

However, unlike the first time it happened to me, I managed to control this influx of blood in my phallic sausage, repressed by my feminist morals. And I was happy like that.

Happy not to have any impure thoughts tainting the image I had of my daughter.

Certainly, I sometimes got hard while fantasizing about her various preadolescent orifices, but nothing that couldn’t be cured by frenetic masturbation to Black on Retard neon-Nazi hardcore pornography 💪.

And yet, I nevertheless perceived a change in mood when she brought a boyfriend home to introduce him to the family. We learned that they had been together for a few months. I knew she had had boyfriends in the past but never anything serious.

Moreover, this was the first time she officially presented someone to us, tending to make us think that this time it was serious.

Tyrone was a nice guy, a little older than my daughter. Darker too.

I didn’t find him very elegant, nor particularly handsome either.

My wife Janna of course disagreed, she was ostentatiously turned on 🤤 by his Simian features and Section 8 accent.

Fifty Lampshades of Zyklon. A Tyrone Production.

Fifty Lampshades of Zyklon. A Tyrone Production.

As the days passed and I got to know him more, I realized that he was not very bright either, even for a Welfare-American.

He dropped out of elementary school and spent his days smoking crack paid for with Elizabeth’s weekly allowance.

It got to the point where I wondered how he could bang my daughter.

I thought he had nothing going for him and could not help but think that my princess deserved so much better. I had talked with the other children and they too did not quite understand what she was doing with him.

I once asked him if he was mentally retarded.

He answered with the enigmatic “fiki fiki heil Hitler” which I interpreted as a call for limited government and a repeal of state-run healthcare 👌.

Gradually Elizabeth started asking her mother if Tyrone could come for dinner. Janna obviously agreed. Afterwards it was to know if he could stay for the evening. And then about him spending the night at our home.

Yes. On that night, I had trouble falling asleep.

Migrants Dindu Nuffin.

Migrants Dindu Nuffin.

While my wife sleeps on the ground floor with her multiple sexual partners, mine is on the second floor right next to my daughter’s.

We share a wall in common and the head of our respective beds lay against this wall so I have no trouble hearing what is going on in the other room.

When the TV is on I can easily hear what’s being said.

Consequently, I had no difficulty in detecting whispers without however succeeding in understanding them.

Then nothing. Silence. Then muffled groans. The sound of choking. Periods of silence interspersed by deep gasps for air. I could not believe it.

They were doing it despite knowing how thin the walls were. I found it very disrespectful of him.

How dare he desecrate my princess.

At first spaced, the groans became more and more frequent and less and less stifled. She took a delight in letting herself go, thinking I was probably asleep.

I even heard the sharp periodic impacts of what I assumed was her head banging against the wall. I heard her bed crack and break as her groans turned to deafening cries. All this time I could not think of anything else 😣 and the unavoidable erection naturally followed 😖.

And even if it was morally disgusting, I touched myself while imagining it. Was she for example on her knees and him behind? I imagined her face red with pleasure, eyes closed, biting her lower lip to try to contain her groans. I did not hear her boyfriend and it was unfortunate because I masturbated ferociously thinking of my daughter and her eardrum-piercing screams.

Suddenly she went silent. I wondered what was happening.

Faintly, I could hear the sound of running water. Was he ejaculating? No, it was too prolonged.

Then she choked… the volume was too consequent for her to swallow.

Even from the other room I could discern the vulgar smell of urine.

He started riding her again.

When she orgasmed, I came as well 🤤.

That’s it.

I had crossed the line.

I had masturbated thinking of my 11 year old daughter Elizabeth getting urinated on by a Welfare Dindu in her room.

But how could I have done otherwise?

At ejaculation, I thought it was the best handjob of my life.

The next moment I felt ashamed, dirty and disgusting.

This moment marked the beginning of a perversion already well begun.

I prayed to Anne Frank and asked for forgiveness.

I couldn’t call myself a feminist dad anymore 😣.

Chapter 3: Family Values Don’t Stop at the Lingual Tonsils

Paul D. Ryan, the UltraKukk.

Paul D. Ryan, the UltraKukk.

My fetish quickly led me to delve into the underwear of Elizabeth.

At first it was rather innocent, I found myself masturbating while covering my dick with her XS sized panties.

Subsequently, the simple titillation of wearing her clean underwear proved insufficient. I started searching for her used panties.

Always with a surging sense of excitement at the start but a deep disgust of myself at the end.

Yet, no matter the shame and disgust, nothing could have prevented me from starting over again and again.

And let’s not forget the intense masturbatory sessions I indulged in each time she was getting boned by Tyrone, her bonoboyfriend.

That lasted until Tyrone got arrested on charges of public exhibitionism in a kindergarten, Islamic DUI, assault and battery, first degree murder, homicidal necromutilation, torture and hate speech on the internet 😦.

I wondered one night, while listening to her increasingly frequent moans, how she managed to give herself pleasure alone.

Nowadays, with the democratization of sex, I could hardly imagine my daughter using her sole fingers to pleasure herself.

So one day, while she was gone, I decided to search her room a bit to find a dildo for example. I found what I was looking for in the bottom of a drawer. A simple pink dildo in the shape of a phallus and a vibrating plug.

I was getting hard just imagining how she was using them.

I ended up on my bed masturbating with one of her used panties and the dildo I was sucking, tasting her vaginal secretions. I performed several sessions of the same genre going a little further each time, when there was no one at home.

If there’s one thing that qualifies as one of my fantasies, it’s the use of dildos and more specifically strap ons.

And the one thing that makes me really really hard is to imagines my wife being fisted by an African-American male while she penetrates me with a dildo. Of course, she would never agree. To the latter.

I did not see anything gay because the anus is a sexual organ and as long as it is penetrated by a woman, I see no problem.

Besides, if it’s gay then sodomy on a woman is equally gay.

I had fingered myself a few times in the shower using the same logic.

Ultimate Cuck Compilation - Volume 1488.

Ultimate Cuck Compilation – Volume 1488.

As I was laying there jerking off with my 11 year old daughter’s undergarments, the idea of penetrating my own anus with her toys became an inevitability.

I started slipping the vibrating plug inside my body.

It felt good and I was already very hard.

When I turned on the vibration function, it did not take me long to ejaculate. Always in my little daughter’s panties.

I came again and again in her panties, taking great pleasure in imagining myself getting ravaged by this preteen whore.

Ever since I started exploring the inside of my body, I began to let out cries of ecstasy, something I did not do before.

And all this, relieving myself in the underwear of my Elizabeth and using the objects of her orgasms.

But at least I did not think about her anymore.

On the following morning, as I was leaving the shower I passed in front of the door of my daughter’s room. She was just coming out.

She was going jogging.

She was wearing bright red mini-shorts that highlighted her rebounding ass and a tight little top which contained her chest with difficulty. She was horny.

“I’m going”, she said.

I tried to think of something else. It didn’t work.

I was getting worked up again.

I know my daughter’s schedule pretty well.

Her morning jogs usually last between 45 minutes and an hour.

Anne Frank is a Nazi Slut.

Anne Frank is a Nazi Slut.

More than enough time to take care of business.

My wife had taken the other children out for a walk again.

It was all that slut’s fault, she had unnerved me with her underage ass.

The entrance door had just barely been closed that I was already in her room, looking for her dildo.

So excited, I did not even take out her panties but instead decided to penetrate myself right here on her bed.

I stripped naked, lay down on her bed and began to masturbate.

I then used the dildo in a long and fast back and forth motion.

It was intense. I felt myself close to breaking point, my dildo thrusts getting faster, deeper and more pleasurable at each plunge.

I closed my eyes and groaned in pleasure. I was getting very close to the danger zone.

This was the most intense sexual experience I ever had in my life, and my throbbing cock was about to let out 47 years of repressed sexuality.

I ejaculated letting out a manly cry of anal rapture.

My daughter’s bed is in front of her bedroom door, right in the center.

As I finally opened my eyes, I saw the door… open.

And standing in front of me was Elizabeth, looking stunned, open-mouthed and wide-eyed.

My cock suddenly relaxed and I started ejaculating small bursts of cream on my naked stomach, the pink dildo still protruding rather pathetically from my asshole.

– “I… I forgot my HRM watch”, she stammered.

Chapter 4: I’m a Very Gay Republican

Paul Ryan, the Cuck who Pimps his own Daughter.

Paul Ryan, the Cuck who Pimps his own Daughter.

I did not know what to do, lying on my daughter’s bed, my dick in my hand, her dildo in my ass, semen puddles on my stomach, looking completely bewildered and surely blushing with shame.

I cursed myself for having bought this stupid watch on her birthday. I was perhaps experiencing the worst shame of my life.

She walked over to her desk, took her watch and left, completely dazed, without looking at me.

Once she left, I went to wash myself as well as the dildo, covered in both my shit and semen.

I got dressed and stayed in my room, crying.

I couldn’t not think about my career… what would happen to me, if word were to get out that I used my 11 year old daughter’s sex toys to pleasure myself on her bed?

I heard Elizabeth come back after a half an hour, perhaps. I had not moved, I was sitting on my bed. I heard her go upstairs and take a shower.

Then she went back down and I heard her preparing food. At the end of another half-hour I heard her tell me to come to the table.

I executed myself and went down sheepishly.

We ate without ever looking at each other. The atmosphere was more than heavy.

I felt the need to explain myself.

– “Look, Liz, I’m sorry, I-”
– “Sorry! Sorry about what? Sorry to believe that I’m not open-minded?”
– “What… What?”
– “I’m your daughter! How could you not tell me you were gay!” she cried with tears in her eyes.

The Male Feminist.

The Male Feminist.

I was shocked. How could she think I was gay? Oh wait! The fact that she surprised me with a dildo in my ass made it obvious.

I was about to dispute her claims when the words of my mentor, Mitt Romney, echoed eerily in my head… “better be a faggot, a cuck and a loser than a racist“. That was his motto.

It was the perfect opportunity to save my career.

I was saved. By Mitt Romney’s ghost.

The very one I masturbated to earlier.

– “Ha-ha-ha, y-yes I’m a very g-g-gay Republican. But you know, it’s not s-something you can confess easily. And I d-discovered it not l-long ago.”
– “Yeah but to do it with MY dildos, in MY room, on MY bed… you’re disgusting!”
– “I know, but I was too ashamed to b-buy them myself. And I washed them w-well enough every time and…”
– “Every time? Since when have you been using my stuff? Answer, pervert, or I’m telling mom!”
– “I-i-it was the first time on your bed. I was g-getting out of the shower, I was excited, I saw you were l-leaving, I did not want to w-waste time…”
– “And the fact that you did that with my dildos means that you searched through my things.”
– “Yes, I l-looked through your stuff, I’m s-sorry…”
– “It’s ok. I guess I just feel ashamed that you found my dildos.”
– “Ha-ha-ha, the o-o-one who should be a-ashamed here is me…”
– “Yeah.”
– “Can you keep that a s-secret and not tell your m-mother? Or anyone?”
– “I can’t unsee it. But I don’t imagine talking about this with mom.” She said, laughing, her eyes still wet.

YES! I got out of it.

I’m a genius moderate conservative.

What started out as a misunderstanding became my biggest asset in saving my career.

All thanks to Mitt Romney’s homoerotic Mormonism.

A week passed… Elizabeth was as distant as ever. I did not know what to tell her.

I had been calm and during this week, no frenetic handjobs, no dildos, nothing. Not even simple masturbation.

One evening Elizabeth knocked on the door to my room. She was holding a small cardboard box.

– “I made ordered some stuff that I received today… I bought a new one… you know, because I could no longer use… well, you get the point.”

I understood, barely concealing my disappointment.

Masturbating with objects that had produced father’s rectal jubilation did not excite her as much as it excited me.

– “And since I couldn’t see myself giving you the old ones, well… here you go, dad!” She said blushing as she handed me the box.

I opened it and inside was a dildo of the same shape as the one I had used, not the same color though. And a plug. The same by size and color.

– “It also vibrates”, she said.
– “Ah, g-great, thank you.”

Kristen Stewart iz da KKK.

Kristen Stewart iz da KKK.

She then wanted to talk about my experiences.

I had to talk for about an hour. I made up stories as I went.

That I had already kissed a man, that I had already practiced oral sex, that I had already been sucked but that I had never gone to really serious things, that it was hard to meet gay men where we lived, etc. I felt bad about telling her these lies.

Not for lying itself but for these kinds of lies.

At the end of our discussion she consoled herself by hugging me. I felt her chest on me and the week of abstinence that I had just endured provoked in me an instantaneous reaction.

– “Mom is making pizza, we’ll call you when it’s ready”, she said.

I heard her go down the stairs.

It was risky but I did not care.

With her chest glued to me, she had given me the pole, and the fact that she had bought this for me on an adult site (with my credit card) made me even harder.

I was naked in no time, laying on my bed as the toys were unpacked from their cardboard box.

I masturbated thinking of her, grabbing her barely visible breasts, licking her hairless pussy, imagining that it was her hands sinking the dildo in my rectum and going back and forth to the sounds of my moans.

I turned on the vibrator and it took me little time to cum.

The sensations were too strong.

My load soared across the room and much of it landed ostentatiously on the face of my Martin Luther King statue, the African-Republican Founding Father.

My last conscious thought was of boning my 11 year old daughter Elizabeth.

As I mentally saw myself ejaculating on her face and her fifth grade homework, I passed out naked, on my bed. Covered in cum.

Next chapter or not?

Vote in the comments, niggers.