december 31, 2004 (post data)

this guy, he's being kept an eye on. blindfolded. one step down. this girl, she's standing over him about to backhand the shit out of his face, already screwed up in terror.
it wasn't a girl with which he cheated on her. it wasn't even human. what could he say to satisfy her tiny mind, to relieve its delicate swelling? what if she simply witnessed a sentient end table fellating him? words would escape the room and she would get it.
no such luck now, boyo. this guy, he's ductaped to a chair. tightly. this girl, she's one step up, the potential about to go kinetic, and she has no idea he's now being entered anally by the chair.