A Rapist's Quandary
"So ladies, and gentlemen? Are you Afraid?" Whispered Danny, sitting bowlegged 'round the campfire. "Afraid of the Dark?" The others were shivered nervously. Shivering, Christopher whispered "I'm so fucking bored.. Guys? Can I go home?" Smacking him across his fat face, Johnny gritted his teeth and muttered "Hey, don't go home. Don't you fucking go home, Pudge." "Will you too quiet the fuck up? Hey, what's the Racket!" He snarled and spat. "Nothing to worry about boss, just Vermin," begged Johnny, kissing ass.
"Now, I'll ask you again! Who here is afraid of the Dark?", he paused for effect, "No one is afraid of dark?!". His eyes got black. He gripped a smoldering logs in his daring fingers.. "I'll make you a-fucking-fraid.. campers.." And so he told his story, "just like old times", muttered Johnny, lickin' his ol' lips. So here is his story from Danny, grim and terrible..
Once, there was a short fat man name George. Those who lived near him knew that he had raped, and had been raped. George had seventeen kids, all of them fat, all of them raped. So on his 65th birthday, George's asshole children compiled a murder plan. George had grown tired, and when the clock struck eleven, he was fast asleep.
"Our fuckin' pa's asleep, guys" growled Freddie, scratching at a pesky mosquito bite on his cute little asshole. "Is everyone ready", "I am ready" they said. All the girls took off their 8-year old tops, and the boys put on mini wife-beaters. ""Daddy-o, get ready for a homicide.." said Danny, finishing part one of this story. "This is really good story", hissed the Pudge. "Hey Dan, make it sexier, huh?" "Yeah man, Yeah, I'll do." –BACK TO THE STORY—George's fat fucking eyelids fluttered open. He dabbed away the drool on his lips, and smeared his used cum-rag on the couch – "Sexy enough for ya?" grunted Danny – "the children are asleep, but the night is not over. Is it old boy?" the sixty year old cunt muttered to himself. "I'm afraid that it is, father. I'm afraid it is" the shadows seemed to whisper. "Who the fuck said that?!" George bellowed, instantly awake, and farting a little. "Don't get up, father..pleeeeasse" the disembodied voice hissed, as stubby unseen fingers secured duct tape round old George's mouth, and Elmer's glue poured in between his toes, for discomfort. His eyes Bulging, George watched as his belt buckle was carefully undone by two of his daughters, and he panted through his nose as the baby Draco stumbled forward with a sharp knife. Unfortunately, the unfortunate infant slipped on the cum-rag, the blade plunged through his tender little jaw, poking carefully through his head. George attempted to laugh, but forgetting the gag, it quickly turned to choking coughs, and it took almost a full minute to subside. "Listen you fuckin' Hobgoblin", commanded the eldest baby, Karl, "Your long life of fuckin' kids and eatin' so much all the time ends tonight, when you are killed by us." Withdrawing a colt .45 found inside the old man's hunting cabinet, Karl cocked the shit out of the gun, aimed, and fired. Sadly, his aim was the shittiest, finding its mark in George's thick thigh, the bullet teared a hole straight through to his cock. The shot was fuckin' great. It showed the irony, because George was a rapist. "You are the weakest link, good- BANG!" – "Riddance" Finished Danny.
End