Journals of a Psychopath

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At last the man-woman is vanquished.

The Dyke


Fighting me, but then I overpowered the man-woman she was shocked.
      “What the fuck are you doing?”
The pure white silk gag was soft and I stuffed it into her mean lips.
Twisting the pure white silk band around her mouth, it gratified. Roping her arms behind her back, I jerked the sack over the man-woman’s skull, and she kicked my legs.

Blackclaw Woodlands

Regal clothed in the black silk robe. Ripping the pure white silk ribbon from her mouth, I eliminated the gag.
      “You fucking bastard!”
I yanked her panties; Sam’s womanhood was dainty and stunningly shaped. Grabbing the hard dildo, I powered into the only part, which was womanly. Realising Samantha had not coupled with a guy before Sam’s maidenhood was intact, I sniggered, she squealed corresponding to a pig. Continuing to attack her front-split, the dyke’s skull waved from side to side, and her vista-orbs protruded. Smirking, as Mother did all those years ago, I packed Sam’s vagina with pure white silk, the man-woman wriggled, wrapping the furs around her, she spat at me.

The Pit Stop

Traipsing into the restroom, observing the cracked mirror, the image reflected exposed the lunacy. I wandered into the workshop.
      “Good of you to join us, Rhea has phoned, and she thanked you for the good time,” Perry said.
      “What is she like in the sack?” Joe asked.
      “Rhea is ok, I worked for it you guys are just too dumb to realise.”
Strutting outside, Rheanna's car aimed for the yard. Rolling in, Rhea vacated the vehicle, and perched on the tires, her legs dangled.
Merle strolled into the gas station, sexy her form was gifted with the wonderful distribution of flesh. When I wanted some amiable company, Merle made herself available.
      “It is too long since you bedded me,” Merle said.
Infuriated, Rhea furnished Merle a look, and showed dismay, because apparently, she was not the only woman involved with me. The beginning of her enlightenment, I savoured her pain, she would be taken down eventually, but it would take a long time.

The Purifiers and the Archangel

The dyke regarded me when I arrived and her scared sight-orbs encouraged. Dressing in the robe, some silver stars sparkled, the rest were veiled with her crimson-solution. The snow was drenched with the gore and macabre. Rubbing her body, the blood covered my hands. Smearing the red-fluid on my face, I yowled, I revelled in the stickiness. Crackling, as I lit it, the wood smoked, the flares highlighted the Woodlanders and the Darkest-One. The Trees and the Archangel seemed appeased. Appropriating justification, the ruby-fluid extremely powerful, running in the river it contaminated the water, Joy streamed in my body the gore authenticated my dramatised state.
      “Fuck off and leave me alone.”
The man-woman bled enough to placate the Woodlander Warriors and the Darkest One, but the recital was mediocre in my opinion, I devised more degradation.
      “I will not suck your dick.”
Threatening her, the dagger scared Sam, she sucked my male-weapon, and her lips a slash of ugliness were forced around my manhood. Stabbing fanatically, continuing until the Trees and the Archangel sighed, her wail erupted prolonged it tapered off. Rotating the non-moving form of the enemy, my arms raised, it was a sign of my prowess.
Throwing her onto the firestorm, the man-woman’s screeches drilled in my ears, I memorised the fierce heat, the sheets of flame gnawing the body, which jerked until stilled by death.

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