Journals of a Psychopath.



Peek inside my novel.

The Purifiers and the Darkest-One

Amy Lee was stunned when I materialized. She licked her lips nervously. Retouching Amy Lee’s make-up, the plum colored lips, and crimson cheeks complimented each other.
      “Can we stop this charade now?”
      “What? Makes you think it is a game.”
Becoming real and the enormity of her position became clear. Fondling Amy Lee’s womanhood gently with my hand, her viewing-disks rolled with satisfaction.
The implement I pushed into her, caused Amy Lee to reach the heights of pleasure.
      “Come bitch.”
She came and her woman juice spurted over my hands, she jerked with passion long after I eliminated the implement. The Mutterer spoke in an excited tone, burbled in my ear. I pulled Amy Lee’s womb through her sexual-part, she screamed so loud, it hurt my ears. Spiraling to the fore and the pain was exhibited in Amy Lee’s flesh-spheres. Reciting the liturgy and the narration was long, as I rhythmically phrased the song of the insane. Lifting the sword from the end of the altar and she screeched. I began to dance and trailing the sword down her body, my cloak rippled. Probing the sword in Amy Lee’s belly, she squawked, her painted cheeks screwed up, and I drove into the organs, pierced them, I heard the squelch of the flesh, as it ripped inside her. Amy Lee blacked out, I examined her ravaged body, and her clown-like face was so satisfying.


Unlocking the door and Jayne's hair was untidy I was sore.
      “Do you want some liquor Clarkson?”
      “I intend to have you,” I said.
Clutching Jayne, she was slow to move, crushing her petite body to my enormous chest, Jayne wrestled, and then she relaxed into me. Jayne wept between kisses designed to thrill.
      “I hate you Clarkson.”
The murmurs of desire increased and mounting me, her mammary glands bounced in motion with her body. Focusing, on the stunning flesh and it sprang, my manly-tool matched the throb from her pulse. Jayne’s buttocks squashed against my legs and my manhood burst forth the fruit. The cell bleeped, taking hold of it, I saw sis’s name, and I answered.
      “Hanson is dead.”
I was cheered and I pretended I was a little sad Charl's was conciliated.
       “What is wrong?” Jayne asked.
She had sensed the sudden change in the atmosphere.
      “Everything is okay.”

Global Scriggler.DomainModel.Publication.Visibility
There's more where that came from!