why dont we have one of those "all contribute" stories again? plus, in the member section we can keep lighting up that little bulb an make people think they are actualy missing out with being able to post in the "creme de'la creme" of cuntin' forums.. Chapter 1 Schmed awoke to find himself clad only in what appeared to be melted chocolate and popcorn. As his tired & hungover mind tried to compensate for this overly vivid image by replaying the actions of the previous nite, he drew a blank. The bed was not his own, he knew that much. In his early morning dazed and horny state Schmed envisioned it was a Rats nest. A Rats nest of love, for she would be in soon with brekfast and bring him away from his current reality... He turned over and saw someone in bed next to him. It was.........
the boy was still sleeping soundly. he was naked except for a small chain round his neck that looked like dogtags. Schmed still trying to remember the previous nite looked closely at the dogtags, there was something stamed into them. Property of IMC child Rental agency Underneath that in slightly smaller lettering was All breakages must be paid for - Returns no later than 6pm. Schmed slowly began to recall...
that this shitty ass rats nest was not a nest at all and he was in his own room, but the boy needed to be returned to Dwaine ...PROMPTLY, Dwaine told him to return this whore man/boy at the crack of dawn, Dwaine tried contacting him at said time, but Schmed told him "I need to catch the Bus" and .....
looked out his apartment window as he replaced the receiver.... to see a bus driving off into the distance.. "FUCKSHITMAN!!" he screamed while headbutting the window in a rage "JESUS FUCKING CHRIST" he sobbed as he looked down through the shattered window to see the bus he should have caught starting to close it's doors as the last of it's passengers alighted... suddenly he decided to....
...browse the member forums where he came upon the devastatingly seductive image of Chichi the 'cherry plumbed Hertzegobbbler' displaying the sumptuous fuzzy fuck truffles responsible for bringing many a man, woman and beast to a quivering, throbbing, grinding halt ..parked squarely onto said cum nuggets for the final pump into blinding orgasmic oblivion. Next, he summoned the oily small framed boy..."Nico!!" (whose name he suddenly recalled) "Oil yourself down and come,sit on my knee...I have one last job for you before i return you to IMC...". At this, Nico, his tanned soft skin now flaking with the previous nights passionate exudations, pouted and moodily minced accross to the muscley buttocked, tattooed brute ,who sat stroking his short, but stalky member whilst gazing adoringly at the mesmerising beauty of Chichi on the screen before him: Just as the young, fag beauty straddled his client, there was a 'pingpong'...Monsieur Chichi had signed into MSN!! ......
...that and the heavy musky scent of a pair of Chichi's used and signed panties which Schmed had feverishly purchased at Fugly-bay. (The fragrance, Schmed could only liken to the one he experienced as a young boy on a visit to the rutting pens of the mountain goats at the zoo). Nico, anus now bulging with having hesitated mid-straddle whimpered and again proceeded to lower himself onto Schmed's lap...
Schmed guided Nico's boney hips down onto his lap. He could feel the youngster's protruding ring as it throbbed up and down against his thigh making little wet 'tsst tsst' sounds. "LITTLE BO PEEP HAS LOST HER SHEEP" announced Schmed and Nico, understanding his master's code positioned his soft buttocks either side of Schmed's cock and slid his now fishy, weeping hole down til it was sitting flushly on the anarchist's wirey, cum matted bush. "MMMMMM-GOD SAVE THE QUEEN!!" came the next command. Nico,remembered this was the order to clench his buttocks hard around the bulging member, which he did, panting and biting his lip. Next came an order the semi-professional butt bandit was not familiar with..."THERE'S LIFE,JIM...BUT NOT AS WE KNOW IT!!!" and with that.....
....and with that, Ulfur Engil wakes up from that completely fucking disturbing dream, stumbles to the toilet, pukes up every remnant of the red wine and valium he ingested the night before, and utters to himself, "There is no fucking way in Hell to make me mix THOSE again..." He then stumbes to the fridge, take a Guinness can out, pours it into a coffee mug (so the neighbors do not call him on public drunkeness), and then takes the dog out for a morning walk. As he returns, he sits back down in front of the computer screen, only to see Nursey typing in response...........
at the same moment Schmed sensed that his pal Ulfur has just written him out of a disturbingly graphic story that he himself was wondering how fix. Meanwhile back at casa de Ulfur, Mr Engil was watching the words "Nursey typing a message" flashing across the bottom of his IM screen when suddenly there came a knock on the door. It was 2 officers of the law. "what the hell do you want?!" Ulfer asked. "sir we have had a complaint that you have been walking around with open intoxicants pretending you were walkiing a dog." ULfur looked at the police with a look of amazement, what the hell were these idiots talking about, he looked down to his coffe mug and saw to his complete surprise that it was not a coffee mug at all but a large bottle of jack daniels (now mixed with guiness). He then looked out side to were he had tied his dog up, and once again Ulfur was dumbstruck by what he saw, not a dog at all but an old cabbage patch kid doll that he had been dragiing around and calling max (whose fucking shit did i clean up out there then he wondered). the whole time the police had watched ulfurs face register all these facts, but to them it looked like he was completely fucking crazy... The cop opened his mouth to speak....
..."aaahh um- sorry sir. must be the wrong house" he said backing away with panic growing in his eyes.. "you have a nice day now..... please" Chapter 2 Chichi languished on his bed contemplating his morning erection... wondering whether to piss or play... he was free to do either it being a saturday morning... but he had things to do... he reached down to get his saturday pants off the floor... at that moment, in another part of the fugly multiverse.....
Psycho bob awoke.... his surroundings were familiar. he was infact, @ home. he staggered 2 the bathroom as always b4 he pissed himself. as he urinated he looked in the mirror, fuck was that him? he went to bed @ 25, he woke @ 70. the wrinkles were deep and contoured. how hard had last nite been? as he staggered toward his computer he noticed the freyed cords. someone had been here! he checked his personal porn safe, nothing was missing. whoever robbed hom forgot to look behing the fake 18th century ratilla the hun masterpiece. who had it been? who was watching him?.....
... suddenly, in another part of the fugly puniverse.. schmedly awoke in a piss soaked bed... he swore to kill the enchanting succubus who stole his bladder control... he slowly rubbed the yellowing crust that was gumming his eyelids together and blinkingly looked around him... his room was the same dishevelled hovel it always was... and his straps were still tightly fastened... he thanked his diety that he had found a cure for his somnambukleptomania and whistled for his midget to come untie him....
...and in waddled Archie...dear, sweet, dependable Archie. "Morning babe, smells a bit fishy in here today...you need uncle Archie to give you a quick rub down with a damp face cloth?" he gurgled in his funny high pitched voice. "Oh GOD Archie, you little dear...how did i ever manage without you?" sighed Schmed with great relief. "Always a pleasure, sir. Now part your legs and let's get to work...oh....banana, strawberry or coconut shower gel, toots?" Schmed paused, and pondered hard, he drifted off for a brief spell with images of dancing smiley fruit trees and singing jungle animals, giggling as he smelled the heavenly, mouth watering aromas. He snapped out of it when he felt a small chubby hand briskly grabbing his genitals and the cold slimey wet rag that sat week in week out in a bucket of vomitty smelling water next to the bed getting smeared around in a methodical manner by the industrious little bald fellow. "AAAAARGH" shrieked Schmed, and Uncle Archie clambered up the bed and straddled Schmed's chest, then continued washing Schmed down but thoughtfully made tender cooing noises to calm him as he did so, but Schmed was more anxious today than usual, so Archie decided it was time for a little massage. He started rubbing up and down Schmed's thighs with his strong little hands, stretching himself down onto Schmed's body , squirming a little then getting up and repeating the process. "UGHHHH....UGHHHHHHH" whimpered Schmed as he started to recover from his little shock and ease himself into the experience. Unfortunately, the relaxation caused his pee pee to swell. Archie's cooing turned into singing , and the industrious little creature shifted into high gear to destress and thus prepare his master for what was to turn out to be a very surprising day...
CHAPTER 3... Ulfur strode around in his penthouse suite with his suede pants hanging loose to allow his giant member and smooth hairless sac to air dry after having just done a four hour stint in the gym followed by some physio and a nice jacuzzi. "Whoah...lookin gooo-hoo-ood" he thought as he caught a glimpse of himself appearing on one of the many screens transmitting security camera footage from around his suite. He went to his plush leather topped desk and opened his laptop. Signing into msn, he said "Ciaooooo" and "Okayyyy baby?" to a few people, accepted a live porn video link from someone, checked the shares index , scanned fugly, then being the super macho multitasking chilled dude he was, masterfully picked up a phone, and had no sooner finished huskily requesting his stylist to come and blow dry his hair, when suddenly a disturbing sight caught his eye. It was fellow fugly model Psychobob (who was booked by a prestigious agency to do a million dollar photo shoot with Ulf later that week in San Molestio) staring panic-strickenly into the intercom camera ...but Bob wasn't looking so goo-hooooood....
... as archie was finishing his rub-down schmed reached for a cigarette.. as he touched the flame from his zippo to the end of the coffin nail a thought occured to him.. "archie" he said quizzically "how the hell did you get up on the bed so quickly?.. have you fixed the stepladders? i thought they were beyond repair after our jelly wrestle last weekend" archie beamed at him, puzzled "i used the new set of bedstairs you made for me.. you did make them didn't you? they were by the bed this morning" schmed peered down over the edge of his bed to see a pc tower and monitor arranged in a handy step-like configuration and groaned as the image of a 'fallen ratilla with the big boobies' oil-on-canvas masterpiece floated into his minds eye.... "what the fuck??!!"....
"what the fuck?"... As Schmed sat back to front on the toilet for the 20 minutes it always took to empty his exceptionally large bladder, it all started to trickle back to him...the e-mail from his friend who had been working in England telling him to hop in a plane and fly over for a visit...then his meeting with Psychobob and subsequent ingestion of Bob's 'Psycho-Sangria™' (a concoction of cheap lager,vodka, ecstacy pills, ketamine and valium, with a splash of nitromors "for extra bite")...the waking up two days later completely tripping out his head, naked in a field with what appeared to be neon coloured cows licking the violently expulsed intestinal lining from his face and thighs...but...oh God...there was more...
