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The very tip of a very red and swollen cock is pointing directly at me, a real here and now threat if ever there was one. I’m sure that at this point someone steps forwards and offers me a blindfold, which I, in my valor, should refuse. My white padding will be torn away to reveal my heart. The soldiers take aim. Fire! And I die again from shame and filth.
If you really love someone, then you must be able to love enough to let them go. For as free as you found and then fell in love, then why trap them. No, always be prepared and able to either, keep things as they were when you found them, or at the very least, return them to that condition. If God really loves me, then he’ll know what to do. I just wish he’d hurry up with it.
Awoken to the sound of grunting and straining. Then something hot and heavy falls into me. Jesus…the smell. I want to gag. Dante believed that Hell was not some universal punishment for all, but would be tailered to fit our sins. So what have I done to deserve this?
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The models fingers flash in and out of her sopping cunt, ever getting faster. Her sighs gradually get louder, turning into moans, and then syncronising with her blurring hand. Her streaming juices cover me. Like the ancient whaler, someone off camera shouts “There she blows”. Cue something strange….she starts shaking and then suddenly starts convulsing like that ugly chick in The Exorcist. And then….she starts squirting. Gallons of what can only be piss, and yet seem more akin to water, start shooting out of her. Next time, remind me to bring a life vest and some water wings! And a fucking harpoon!
Taste. I have a finely tuned sense of taste or smaell or both. For instance, the diet of a man can be assertained from the taste of his semen. As can a girls’ from her cunt gunk. Then there’s what follows the dick when withdrawn from an ass during an anal scene. Here we can experience the diet first hand, in all it’s glory!
It is dark. Someone is singing. A song from long ago. Her voice comes to me like a dream of love and warmth. I feel that I am flying. And now I’m slightly opened, I can see her face as she sings and dances around the studio with me. And for just a moment, I forget myself.
The shoot is over. Thank God. And even though my diapered body is ripped from the model and then thrown, torn and broken, into the rubbish bin, it matters not. For now I shall take flight into the multiverse, and shall rest until the next time, when I shall be born whole again. So, though God destroys, he then makes me whole again. I praise him through my salty tears.
Most of my waking moments are spent wondering why God hates me so. I’ve passed every emotion back and forth, questioning all my actions and yet still can’t fathom it. But the other day, I glanced a picture of his son on the cross. And fuck me, he was wearing a diaper. Now I begin to understand.
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Lots of fidgeting and suddenly the bright studio lights sting my eyes.I look up to see a chick sucking cock, sucking like sucking cock is going outta fashion! She pulls away and I watch a spurt of sperm shoot into her open mouth. Thank God it’s her whose taken it and not me, as the very floury smell makes me want to hurl, and having that warm sticky stuff all over me just makes me want to die. But wait a minute. She’s looking down. Right at me. And then she starts to dribble that disgusting gunk onto my head. Fuck.
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A boy/girl shoot today. As I was being put on the model, I felt a heavy dark cloud of depression creep over me. Pretty soon, as piss follows shit, all sorts of degrading and filthy acts, accompanied with their respective fluids and noises, were taking place within the confines of my soft body. In this darkness I suddenly found myself calling out to God. And he answered. In gentle and kind tones he told me that my suffering had purpose, and though I couldn’t see it now, all would become clear later. Just then the model started her moaning, which grew loader in proportion to my need to hear God’s voice. In the end, she won out, and I was left straining to hear….nothing.
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