Monday, July 9, 2018

Incest and Piss


David C. McLean and I wrote these for the next Philosophy of Extremism.

Little Jennifer's Perverse Preferences

In all honesty, little Jennifer admitted to herself that she enjoyed vanilla incest. She loved it when Daddy rolled his gross body over hers in bed, grunting and farting, and drove his stiff rod straight up into her tight little pie. She wished he weighed much more, since it felt so good when he pinned her down, smothering her and mumbling that she would always be sleeping here now, she could forget both Mommy and Tammy: they were no longer welcome in Daddy's big bed. His sweat would mingle with hers as she whimpered in ecstasy. "I don't care about mommy", she said, "I want you in me, Daddy."

I don't know what vanilla incest is, but Daddy says it's the opposite of what comes out of our bottoms. I think that's kind of gross and not at all like chocolate, because it's poopy. But if Daddy says I like vanilla incest, I want to know what kind of bug tastes like vanilla. He says he doesn't mean insect, but he doesn't tell me what he really means. He just takes his big willy, puts it between my legs, and squirts some kind of jelly in me and sticks himself up me. Lately he has been doing the insect thing every night. He is so heavy I can't breathe but this makes him get more excited so that he sticks his tongue in my ear.  He says I prefer when he gets on top and lies flat but his breath is so bad I have to turn my head to the side and think about flowers.

Jennifer is growing older and sometimes dreams of freedom, but she forgets to mention her whimpering groans, she forgets to mention the prison she cherishes, weighted down by Daddy's brutal flesh and impaled on his length. She dreams that Daddy will eat so much that he weighs four hundred pounds so she can sleep under his pendulous tits, and call him Nan. He would dress like whores did, centuries ago, in a nasty ancient tunic with a rosette trim at the top, and there would be more orgasms, more torture.

Nocturnal Showers

Daddy, I'm cold again.

Oh my god, little Jennifer, you're blue!

What's wrong with me, Daddy?

Quick, let me stick it in you. I like it chilled and I'll lie flat on you so you get warmed up. The pee in my willy comes out very warm too, and I can pee some over you if you're very good.

Really, Daddy, will you do that for me? Is that a golden shower? Are you going to make me pay?

Oh, little Jennifer, my golden showers are always free to my daughter. You're such a good little girl.

But Daddy, why am I blue?

Let's not worry about that right now. Take your nightgown off.

But I'm cold and blue.

I'll make you warm. Be a good girl now.




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