I forgot something when I left for work today. I didn't think it would matter much, and anyway I was halfway there by the time I realized it, so I kept going. Little did I know what would happen! Tomorrow, I definitely will make sure I have...
another thread that is no different from other emo threads.
... he mumbled. I didn't quite get what he meant, as I was stil not wearing so much as a single thread. Alas, I didn't have much time to reflect upon his strange utterance, for just at this moment I heard the sound of a car coming closer. There were no obvious ways of covering myself up, so I quickly ...
...had reverend Paul help for a change...
With enough strength, the human penis can shatter bone.
I had no idea why Paul was babbling so, or why there were no quotation marks around his speech, but I concentrated on the task at hand and spread the limp parrot's wings to cover my breasts as the car rushed by. It was driven by ...
...noone I particularly cared about. The sentiment was not mutual and the car swerved around and stopped next to me on the sidewalk. "Hey lady!...
...Snape Kills Dumbledore!" The driver shouted. This enraged me to no end, and I shouted "Nooo, bitch! You bitch!". The jerk drove off in a hurry and I was so angry that...
... I bribed a professor of chronodynamics at the local university to let me use his time machine, went back in time and persuaded Rowling's mother to have an abortion. However, when I got back to the present, I was startled to discover that ...
...Rowling's mother had given birth to a writer-daughter anyway, and Snape was still the murderer of Dumbledore. "Yup," the chronovendor professor cheered, "Despite popular perception, nothing you do in the past actually matters to the future. This is why I allowed you to go there in the first place! By the way, I like your outfit. Very lifelike! but it sounds like someone is choking"....
...As he finished his sentence, it dawn on him that it was HE who was choking, on a wad of pages from my copy of "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince" that I jammed down his throat. He blacked out quickly as pasty science fellows are prone to do, and I gave his crumpled body a good kick in the ribs. I took back the mint-condition, original line Star Wars action figures that I bribed him with and got the hell out of there. I wasn't sure what to do next, or what happened to that parrot, or the force-field dog eating dinosaur, or what I had originally forgotten at home: My...
...panties. But that wasn't so important now. At least, not if I was going to pay heed to that 'divine' message from just now. Astarte? who the hell gives such a gay name - it isn't American and doesn't sound Japanese either so can it even be real? Meanwhile reverend John should be having a severe conflict of faith. Doubling as my bra should be against his godly mission, but he seemed to be enjoying himself - hm, a bit too much to my taste actually. Or perhaps he just could not conceive of himself as a piece of exotic lingerie?...
...I decided to consult him on that so I grabbed his head and pulled him off of me. Right then someone behind me sulked "Oh my God, not another one of those PETA animal rights freaks again!..."
...At this point, dear readers, a little reflection is at place. Our protagonist set out this morning to her job, got into more unlikely predicaments before noon than the average 4-ch reader will ever experience in their whole life, and in the majority of these events she was stark naked or nearly so. In fact, nudity began to play a crucial role within the story. Fortunately, since she is approximately proportioned as the regular StarTrek main-cast bimbo bridge officer. Unfortunately, this written media fails to present her bodily assets as explicitly as most readers would wish for. (If not, wait till you actually see her.) Anyhow, lets not linger too much in this narrative perspective and get back to how this little story unfolds from now on...
...". The peta-stranger's unsolicited narration was extremely unwelcome after all I had been through today, so I smothered him with my firm, supple, C-cup breasts until he lost consciousness. With this nuisance out of the way, I tweaked my deep pink, erect nipples and went on my way. My long, flawless and recently waxed legs carried me the short distance to the bus stop, and I sat my round, tight buns on the curb next to the sign. A warm breeze once again called my attention to my nakedness as it passed by warm and wet vulva which had never known the love that only an Elitist could provide. Tossing my fiery-red hair out of my eyes and behind my neck, I saw the bus turn the corner drive down the street toward my stop. I stood and put one hand on my thick, child-bearing hips just below my narrow waist, and flagged down the bus with my other hand...
...Curiously, it stopped a hundred meters away. I saw the driver get from his seat and gesture wildly to the passengers, who promptly evacuated the vehicle as if stung by bees. I was surprised at this development, but even more surprised when the bus started to drive again, stopping right in front of me. The doors opened.
"Hi there, young lady!" called the driver to me,
"Unfortunately, the back of this bus is off limits to passengers. Just after I saw you, I just knew that there was a bomb in this bus, so I had to tell everyone to get out. If you know what I mean heh heh... But uh, since you really look like you need a ride, how about you come in and I'll take you to whereever you wanna go. You'll have to sit on my lap, so I'll make it free of charge."
He glanced at me, or I should say he looked at my body (Whenever people look at my naked body, its as if they don't take me serious as an intelligent woman anymore. Hello! I'm more than just a lovepuppet, will you sexist men finally accept that!)
"So uh, lets come inside, I mean, uh, please come inside. I'll guarantee a pleasant ride..."
"...to my apartment where I will date-rape you. Whoops, did I just say that outloud?" Just then, the bus spontaneously exploded. I was sure that creep lied about the bomb, but maybe it was just a coincidence that the vehicle actually was loaded with C-4, rigged to go off should it's speed drop under 50 miles an hour.
Yet I was unhurt by the detonation, thanks to a Force-Field Dog that just happened to pass between me and the bus at just the right moment. I knew all to well that this could not have been a mere coincidence. Someone out there was out to get me and/or Reverend Paul. Was the Force-Field Dog sent to protect me? I was unsure, but...
...Qwwabos (Time-Fiend) had surely sent FFD to my side at this time. I decided to make the most of the situation by putting on FFD's Saddle and Reins; whatever force was after Reverand Paul and I was about to face the wrath of the FFD-Cavalry.
However, after about an hour of indiscrimate violence from atop my Force-Field laden Dog-Mount, I came to the conclusion that...
...frosted butts...
... were not a majorly pressing concern at this moment. Rather, ...
...I began wondering why on earth I had put on FFD's Saddle and Reins. Reverend Paul seemed to be enjoying himself in the saddle, shouting orders around to all innocent bystanders (who by the way were very amused) but I'm not a family-woman. I care about myself and this situation was not in the best interest of my wellbeing...
...as a sexual predator. My full list of priors are a matter of public interest and, being in the nude, calling attention to myself in this matter was not wise. I unleashed my DINOSAUR, WHO EATS FORCE FIELD DOGS, and she promptly eviscerated the creature and then spontaneously exploded, as their type is trained to do. Reverend Paul soon calmed down...
...enough to have a daydream about his childhood. there she was, lovely sarah, for whom he would have done anything four. he played his violin violently staring from his window in the attic without lights and a long flight of lime green stairs leading to the roof. the sound of hooves reminded him of christmas but he refused to remove his gaze from her delicate body playing in the forest with fireflies and her newly formed breasts. it was dusk when the bow string broke bringing anger as he thrust it out the window breaking glass everywhere. count up to ten to calm down then walk down the stairs past mothers door quietly and grab the cake from the kitchen counter, wrap it, and place it in the satchel. she will love me....
...Suddenly the daydream was interrupted by a sudden shrill cry "HAGRID, FRED AND VOLDEMORT DIE! HARRY MARRIES GINNY AND HAS 3 CHILDREN!" - a gang of youth driving by had screamed, sending Reverend Paul into a frenzy. "Was this true?", "Did those fucking faggots just ruin Harry Potter for me?".
Suddenly the perspective of the story changed back to being 1st person from the main characters point of view...
...I felt a little sorry for the parrot, whose lucid daydreams at least told me he was very unknowledgeable about female parrots anatomy (no breasts), and now this. So I reassured him that if he would entertain various possible endings, the (maybe) spoiler would become one of many, and the ending would again be a surprise...
...End of Chapter 1.
...but the subsequent chapters could still always be spoiled. Suddenly, my Nudist Sense was tingling...
...or actually no, it was only my cellphone in silentmode, still hidden in the tight folds of my secret stash. I leaned innocently against a lamp-post on the crowded sidewalk and discreetly slid the phone out of my vagina to answer.
"Astarte here - I mean, I mean (Oh god what's happening to me?) its me, me! who's there?...
...suddenly, out of nowhere, a wild age appeared...
...I was stoked, bra. I was like the most awesome thing I ever saw. Big, wooden, robotic, and on fire, the knarly AGE was so rad I was stoked.
..."Well hello there, you fiery hunk!" I breathed in a voice more lusty than I would have wanted, but he was just so hot.
"Won't you come with me? I have a divine mission which is still very unclear to me, but it involves me convincing other people that nude is good."
The age leaned back and looked approvingly at my body. My breasts pointed right at him, and I followed their direction, adding some catch to my swinging hips.
"What do you say, you and I, I think we should find a place a bit more... secluded from I gasped a short breath from prying eyes?"
Walking forward slowly to him, showing off all that my beauty has in store, all that stirs mens hearts, one foot before the other, my strong and crude feminine desire stuck to the atmosphere and made him lean forward to me.
That's when I tripped over a parrots leg...
...and it fucking exploded, then decided that things exploding is really freaking awesome. So I forgot about the sexy hunk and invented a machine, called the "3xploderX". The "3xploderX" is extremely easy to use all you have to do is attach it to your shoe, it just clips on, then everything you step on will explode 10 seconds after the point in which it first touched. Then I found out one major flaw in the design of the "3xploderX". "The 3xploderX" couldn't...
...handle bananapeels. So as I went to do some rapid ignition damage to one of those slapstick comedy fruit-wrappers lying innocently on the street, my wonderful invention went dud. Meanwhile the home security department had confiscated the blueprints of my device on the grounds that it had not been properly tested. Currently, they're testing it on various labrodents to see if it could be dangerous to health. So that was the end of my escapade into explosive territory. Or so I thought, because I had barely turned my booty towards some new direction I wanted to walk at, when some random dude asked me if I wanted to star in something called "Ambitious Asshandling for America 53."
I saw no harm in that so...
(´^ิω＾ิ)
...I asked to see the script. It was a well-conceived documentary on the difficult struggle of donkey-tamers to etch out a living despite the difficulties of doing so in post-war America. It seemed like such a wonderful project, until the casting agent oversold it by namedropping Sean Penn. Also, It contained far too much explicit sex for my taste. With one quick motion, I snapped the man's neck...
...but to my surprise his skull fell clean off of his shoulders! Impressed with my own strength I stared at his neck stump enigmatically. My deep thoughts were shattered as his chest gave a lurch as an entire dollar store's worth of candy shot into the air! I would have eaten it but...
...i was vampires. so i needs blood from her nekc but she wont give! it is sweet lemon? oh!...
...for a second there I forgot exactly why I've been so pissed off lately. See, I went to Yoshinoya the other day...
...and I could barely get in...
... because there was a crowd of vippers at the doorway, trying to get me to check out http://tanasinn.info/, their new wiki. After I paid them enough, they gave me an account, and reminded me that it is okay to want extra sauce, which I tried to order but...
...it costs extra and I was marked by the staff. That's OK though. Little did they know I was gonna level the whole place with some mega high explosives. Sometimes I just get these urges...
...to push grandmother down the stairs and lite her on fire and write swastikas on the walls. I have a responsibility to protect her from the terrible space secret, after all. By the way, do you have stairs in your house...
My body was tense. My cock, still coated in my own fruition, reminded me of an eel. She clamped her hands around my pulsating manhood, as if her hands were the shell of a clam, closing inward to protect the meat inside from harm. Her fingers wrap themselves on my climax-covered member. They kneeded themselves back and forth, slowly yet firmly. The way they were moving, so fluidly, covered in my juices, I might have mistaken them for small tentacles if I weren't fixated on them enough for it to be apparent that it was merely her hands, dutiful in their motion. Steadily, she grinded her limbs up and down, slowly at first, then growing faster and faster. Soon, it was as if the motion she was doing was not unlike that of a person thrusting a plunger into a backed-up toilet. My piece no longer seemed to resemble an eel, but rather, a gooey squid. A squid who's ink was closer to being pumped out of him every second. This squid might as well have been kalamari, for it was inside her, and was hers to do whatever she desired with. At this place, at this time, in this room, I was at her mercy...and I was loving every second of it.
...the waitresses looked on in disgust as I fantasized over my seafood dish, moving the pieces around in obscene configurations and talking to myself. The meal was expensive, and I would have eaten it all, except that...
...I wanted to pull the plug. Then however it dawned on me (see how I'm avoiding the verb 'to realize'?) that if Reverend Paul was nesting in the well defined area of 'between my legs' it was unlikely that he'd try to hit on me. After all, making a nest on/in your own partnerparrot is very unteeming to any type of poultry. Raunchy as he always is, excluding me from his crowd of potential mates would be very relaxing for me when we would set out on our mission. Against this advantage I set three disadvantages:
1) Having my nest - er, pubic hair turned into a breeding birds domicile was both itchy and reduced my mobility if I were to respect Reverend Paul's property claims on the immediate area of my genitals. Especially, I feared that the unavoidable monthly 'problem' other women and I happen to have, would be percieved as an attempt to destroy his home. He might well take it to court. It would become even more unpleasant if Paul were to 'upgrade' to islam and find my period haram. I would really not like to be prosecuted for disrespect of other religions.
2) The location of the nest was well defined, but the ambiguity of how far it extended, especially inwards would become an intimate problem for me.
3) Most pressing, it would not be unlikely for the Reverend to sell out the nest to another bird as is common among real-estate developers these days. It would be mortgaged, on a risky rate, perhaps even subprime. Given the unhealthy American housing market, the risk of the new owner defaulting on his debt is significant once the bubble in that market really bursts. I really don't want my private area be taken as collateral by a bank - thank you very much! - because I hate large corporate moneylending entities. I really do.
...
...
The plebeian pubes of pubescent pleas peeled feeble fleas and peas and pebble fees. It was a under fridge? As is frighten...
...-ingly obvious and fearsome...
...-ly...
...-ness...
...Seriously, this nest was freaking me out and I had difficulty concentrating...