Lisa Denton
Can nipples explode?
- Joined
- Jun 23, 2004
- Posts
- 7,758
Holiday cheers and happiness is prolly makin us all hot and wet.
Bah, humbug.
Anywho, I thought there is some great holiday stories here, and we is always needing something to kick-start a story, so I thought we could write a short one post story here for ideas and stuff, and get us writing and wigglein.
In this day and age I often feel cynical and jaded, and actually wonder sometimes if Santy Clause is real. Sometimes my soul-searching is added by puttin my thoughts down as words.
My Santy Clause Story
It was late at night when I heard the noises, it sounded like a herd of cattle was on the roof of my house. Being a single woman, in a high crime area, who sleeps wearin only a pair of panties I thought it best to grab something else before investigating the suspicious noises .... my Taurus 9mm.
A big fat man was breakin into my house by coming through the freakin chimney, he was sweatin and covered with chimney ashes. As he starting lookin around for shit to steal he was mutterin something about "no damn cookies" and I knew the bastard was mean, hungry, and prolly horny also.
I turned on the light and he seen me, he called me a "ho" and I blasted him. It was a 9mm head shot, and there was one less burglar in the area.
The police came, as usual, to just clean up after the crime. I know they are overworked, outgunned, and undermanned, so I made a pot of coffee and got out a box of day-old doughnuts. They told me the criminal had a long list of priors and was wanted in lots of states, the pig, and that they had been lookin for him a long time. They took lots of pictures, most was of me because I was so traumatized I had forgot to put a robe on, and they took the criminals dead body away and wrote up reports and ate doughnuts and slurped coffee.
After they left I was tryin to clean up the mess, coffee cups, doughnut crumbs and blood. I seen something hanging down from the chimney, I yanked on it and a big bag fell out.
It was filled up with sex toys, dildoes and vibrating butt plugs and nipple clips and stuff, and lots of brand new batteries. I knew the burglar had prolly intended to rape and torture me with all these sex toys and stuff for hours or days, which I could do myself thank you. But the police had already filed thier reports and stuff, and the criminal was dead, so I just kept all this stuff for me.
Later, as I lay in bed with the sweet sounds of vibrators hummin away, I realized it was christmas eve, and I thought, maybe there really really is a Santy Clause.
Bah, humbug.
Anywho, I thought there is some great holiday stories here, and we is always needing something to kick-start a story, so I thought we could write a short one post story here for ideas and stuff, and get us writing and wigglein.
In this day and age I often feel cynical and jaded, and actually wonder sometimes if Santy Clause is real. Sometimes my soul-searching is added by puttin my thoughts down as words.
My Santy Clause Story
It was late at night when I heard the noises, it sounded like a herd of cattle was on the roof of my house. Being a single woman, in a high crime area, who sleeps wearin only a pair of panties I thought it best to grab something else before investigating the suspicious noises .... my Taurus 9mm.
A big fat man was breakin into my house by coming through the freakin chimney, he was sweatin and covered with chimney ashes. As he starting lookin around for shit to steal he was mutterin something about "no damn cookies" and I knew the bastard was mean, hungry, and prolly horny also.
I turned on the light and he seen me, he called me a "ho" and I blasted him. It was a 9mm head shot, and there was one less burglar in the area.
The police came, as usual, to just clean up after the crime. I know they are overworked, outgunned, and undermanned, so I made a pot of coffee and got out a box of day-old doughnuts. They told me the criminal had a long list of priors and was wanted in lots of states, the pig, and that they had been lookin for him a long time. They took lots of pictures, most was of me because I was so traumatized I had forgot to put a robe on, and they took the criminals dead body away and wrote up reports and ate doughnuts and slurped coffee.
After they left I was tryin to clean up the mess, coffee cups, doughnut crumbs and blood. I seen something hanging down from the chimney, I yanked on it and a big bag fell out.
It was filled up with sex toys, dildoes and vibrating butt plugs and nipple clips and stuff, and lots of brand new batteries. I knew the burglar had prolly intended to rape and torture me with all these sex toys and stuff for hours or days, which I could do myself thank you. But the police had already filed thier reports and stuff, and the criminal was dead, so I just kept all this stuff for me.
Later, as I lay in bed with the sweet sounds of vibrators hummin away, I realized it was christmas eve, and I thought, maybe there really really is a Santy Clause.
Last edited:
