- ← Previous Story
Story No. 14927
- Group:
- Next Story →
When I was little, I had so many dreams and ambitions. During class, as the teacher talked about mundane matters, I would gaze out the window and think about my future as a
stunt man for the king of B-Grade, Forest Whitaker, who enjoyed sliding his academy award in and out of his
arse like a dirty old homo in a public john. We all pleaded for him to stop but he insisted on
tickling her soles until she nearly died from laughing and crying. It was tortuous. She wanted revenge. Her elaborate plan was to
make a bid for world domination using only empty washing up bottles, sticky-back plastic and pipe cleaners, only to find
that she had been decapitated.
