Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. life with my dugs by hopelesscunt is the name acceptable Sir? i will continue changing it, of course, unless i receive new instructions from you, but for the moment there doesn't seem to be a more fitting name in the world. i did, after all, get mixed up with you. perplexing. not only did i leap into contacting the marty scorcese of woman's hell without considering for one second that it might not be all that brilliant of an idea, i even said blithely that you were a genius without considering for one second what that might mean for me - being that your particular specialty is, of course, humiliation scenes, at which you're an artist without parallel. which makes me not just a wannabe but a rather exceptionally stupid one. learning disabled. droolingcunt. droolingretardcunt. hopeless. it seems impossible but you've actually found a way to cause me profound humiliation without even having to be present. that really is genius. or maybe some kind of witchcraft. you do know things about me. maybe it was just a dark, lucky guess. however the means, i'd bet my life you somehow knew that the story of my tits would mean the story of the most humiliating things in my history. the stuff i've spent years trying to forget. things i've never told anyone. things i thought i'd never have to dredge up again - let alone write down. but if i don't do it i don't get to stay. or read any more of your stories. i cannot believe i have to do this ... i don't know how i'm going to do it ... and i cannot believe how much i must hate myself ... jumping into e-mailing you - you, of all people - and after reading Land of Rape and Honey dozens of times ... e-mailing the author of that incredible story ... what kind of woman would do that? a junky looking to fuck for a fix ... a ravenous, cock-worshipping shizoslut ... you must have smelled fresh meat instantly - grade A primecunt, prime little looneytunes paincunt - without a functioning brain cell in her head. born for your special brand of emotional abuse. oh god ... if only there were some way i could choose to take a whipping instead ... i'd rather you whip my tits and pussy for hours than have to do this ... turn my little fuckholes into bloody hash, take a pair of pliers to my clit ... i want so badly to beg you to change your mind, take your pleasure elsewhere, anywhere else. rape me til i'm half-dead, use your fists on me, torture me til i lose all reason and am just a drooling bloody piece of fuckmeat ... any punishment but this ... but i know it would be useless. hopeless. i hate you for doing this to me but i can't bring myself to disobey you. why are you doing this to me? oh for crying out loud! wendy whiner the rapeslut! take a Xanax you stupid bitch! nobody's doing a thing to you! we'll let radiohead straighten it out for the record, you whiny little sack of shit: "you do it to yourself my friend and that's what really hurts ..." well, that's just a cold statement of fact isn't it. truth hurt, hole? hey. MORON! i thought this was supposed to be about US! yoohoo, you cocksucking skank! remember these? 40DD, creamy white, smooth, clear, soft, blue-free so far, slightly elongated fat and fleshy globes, like watermelons rather than round like cantaloupes ... big as watermelons? unfortunately no, but are we ever open to the possibilities! hey there Sir, you fantastic alpha male of all alpha males, you majestic white-hot thing you unbridled cock-of-our-dreams master to end all masters. we're the formerly perfect tits belonging to this retarded whining pig that's SUPPOSED to be writing about US! what, you think it's unlikely a pair of tits can be channeled? listen, this hole is not only the most fucked-in-the-head piece of poonietang you'll ever meet, but the bitch is no mcgyver, know what i mean? taking over for an hour or two is like taking candy from a baby! you should try sharing a brain with the silly slit! when she's at the wheel, you can hear wind whistling through the place - not a lot going on there, trust us! but enough about that stinking twat! let's talk about US! we say FORMERLY perfect because pig girl couldn't keep her snout out of the tostitoes when she finally stopped snorting up chemicals like a hoover and got clean - which is a pretty relative term in the case of this stinking gash - so the little piece of shit gains 25 pounds and where does a good bit of it go? you guessed it - onto innocent US! the bitch is pure evil, Sir - addicted to anything that will make her feel better for 10 seconds - would fuck a dog for it, a goat, anything. total garbage, if you really want to know. no brains. no values. she spends her time looking in the mirror running her big meaty hands down her ugly fish-white belly, thinking of ways to kill her worthless self if she loses the last vestige of her looooooong-gone glory days, a flat little tummy like the fuckbunny girls on the videos with the gold rings in all their girlholes ... and oh have to check the ass for 45 minutes, too. never mind shitting on US her first and GREATEST asset! you see Sir, before miss-clean-and-sober-but-scarfing-down-10-pizzas-a-day decided to ruin OUR looks without even one thought for OUR welfare ... oh what she took from us! ... before she wreaked her gluttonous havoc, we would have looked right at you and smiled the sweetest of invitations, and quite perkily too - right into your beautiful cold eyes. we spoke to every man and every man always wanted to speak to us! but now, thanks to hogcunt, we're just not the same at all - she gave us a spare tire! god she needs to die ... fat might make for bigger tits but it also CHANGES our SHAPE so that now we're looking not into your eyes but at your breast pocket! it's VERY upsetting to us Sir! we've made such a mental ruckus about it even the hole got the idea and is planning surgery - unfortunately, we must tell you Sir, she is indeed planning a REDUCTION! PLEASE! while we're all for getting our pretty nips up and winking at you again like they were meant to do, which a reduction WOULD accomplish, surely there's a way to reposition our little hey-theres AND keep our god-given size or EVEN BETTER, go UP a couple - or 10 - sizes? :) you know Sir, somehow we don't feel the same sense of panic about the whole reduction issue that we once did ... not since the hole met a certain dark genius while wandering her whore ass around a very bad neighborhood of space one night ... you're not going to allow her do a thing like that to us are you Sir ... ooooh, we didn't finish the physical description, how sloppy! well, we are a bit sloppy ... :) extremely sensitive, fat round pink and oh-so-sensitive little nipples which get fatter and darker and hard as rocks when we heat up, pretty little pale pink saucers which also turn darker and sort of ... ridge-y ... bumpy ... when we're happy ... did we mention our little nips get so hard and red and round they're like juicy little cherries, or that they're so sensitive they're like round little chunks of clittymeat? i really think they're part clit, they're certainly connected to it. we three usually do our singing together ... a trio ... like emmylou linda and our favorite of course - dolly! our disgracefully neglected pink flesh is ALWAYS desperate for attention. actually, we've been desperate for it ever since we first popped up - barely more than our sweet little pinkies at first (but not for long!) - and started to salute each man we saw. things only got bigger and better and they all wanted to salute back! oh, it was great bobbing and winking at every hot cock we could find ... right up until the hole decided having PERFECTly-shaped tits meant NOTHING and could be risked for a plate of pasta! Sir, please do your worst, the little bitch deserves it ... do worse than your worst! please? you're the man we've been waiting for ... and oh does she ever deserve you ... lol i was always the tallest girl in my class and i developed earlier than everyone too. i was 10 years old when my mother took me to get a bra. i didn't want to go - none of the other girls wore bras and i didn't think i needed one. but she just looked at my chest and frowned, saying she could see more of me than she wanted to. she said "nobody wants to see those little nipples sticking out little girl," in a disdainful voice that let me know how disgusting i was. and i was. i looked in the mirror and saw two hard little pebbles poking through my little shirt. you sure could see them all right. disgusting. in the department store she stood around discussing with this bitch of a salesgirl how weird it was to take a 10-year-old for a bra, and then proceeded to have a conversation with her, the topic of which to my 10-year-old ears seemed to be my general freakishness. i even heard the salesbitch say i'd probably also be getting my period (freakishly) soon too. my mother, who was supposed to be on my side, stood around and shared my most personal information with a total, and not-particularly-friendly, stranger. oh please! that poor sainted woman put up with enough from having such a pathetic freak for a daughter; let the poor woman at least try to get a little entertainment out of the deal! we'd talk about it every single day if we had a sick fuck like that for a kid! anyway shut up you lying sow because you know you loved the attention just like you love any attention to this day, like a born slut always does. and i'm sure you weren't really intending to leave out the first bit of physical attention we got, were you? because so far you've written a rather ... shall we say abridged ... version of the story haven't you? the poor emotionally abused little 10-year-old angel wasn't so pristine, was she? surely you weren't going to leave the good part out because i'd hate to think what Sir might do if he knew you held something back from him - not that WE would be the ones to say anything ... we mean, you WERE going to tell him ... right hole? in addition to the "training" bra (wouldn't it be funny if the name is a little wink to women like me) my tits also got their first sexual attention the year i was 10. i actually had a lover but would never have thought of it that way then. her name was kathy and she came from across the backyard behind ours to play with me. and play we did. i honestly never thought of it as sex, because she was a girl and not a man - it was just a very secret and very guilty pleasure, which we thought of as "nasty" play - we weren't fucking, we were "being nasty." and it was wicked fun. also very telling when i look back on it because even then i was more interested in pain than vanilla play. the dynamic was basically kathy's report from her dad's porn magazines of the most astounding details of how people fucked. then we would practice, taking turns being the man, doing what we understood his role to be: rough grabbing hands and desperate mouth on each other's face, neck and little titties, then sticking various objects (namely popscicle sticks, weiners, hairbrush handles and finally carrots and cucumbers) in each other. actually she never graduated to cucumbers and i was never actually penetrated with one either. i just wanted her to bang it hard against my little hole and she obliged, though not nearly as hard as i would have liked, especially as i neared orgasm (we weren't dumb girls - we rubbed each others' clits constantly) ... i wanted serious pain then - always have, always will. we were very conventional; we were always fantasizing about being wives like the ones we saw on TV and movies and we acted out different fuck scenarios based on stories about love and marriage and different overheard bits of our own parents' lives, especially arguments. we would begin, "let's pretend the man ..." my stories would always start out, "let's pretend the man is real mad about something ... and does everything mad ... and HARD ..." and she was actually a very good little lover ... i remember we even got rather good at role playing, with her growling at me things like "i told you not to write any checks without asking me, bitch" as she gamely twisted my sensitive nipples - there still were no real tits to speak of, just a hint of what was to come - but she managed to get my poor baby nipples at full attention. she would grab them and pull and twist while i squealed and screamed small muffled screams through clenched teeth into a pillow i pressed against my face. when i remember kathy i remember a nonjudgmental, sweet (if a little sex-obsessed) little girl who was - well, polite. she never asked why i wanted my nipples hurt or why i wanted her to push our homemade dildoes so hard against my poor little pussy ... we must have been quite a sight when i think back. both of us about the same size, still with plenty of baby blondeness left in our long hair ... golden little twin angels fucking, entwined on the roughhewn floor of a great treehouse that may as well have been designed specifically for children to fuck in - high in the air with no neighbors but the occasional squirrel voyeur - with high wooden sides, no less. thanks daddy ... we had fun until the time came when she picked out a boyfriend and proceeded to donate her entire life to him. just as well. it's not as if i loved her or something. we loved kathy and nearly died when she abandoned us for a lout named richard. her name was kathy tigre and no dickens character ever had a more appropriate moniker. she WAS a little tiger, a hot horny little 11-year-old tiger with bedroom eyes and a daddy with a great porn collection that kathy enjoyed almost as much as he did. she was a wonderful, dirty little girl who twisted us in the most delightful manner with her hard little hands ... we were heartbroken when she drifted away from us ... but NOT willing to go back to sleep! a few squeezes while the hole fingers her bits and pieces to a cum is INSUFFICIENT to put it mildly - we need some ATTENTION! it wasn't an easy time when i lost kathy but i soon busied myself inventing some torture rituals, just little ones, like hanging from the monkey bars upside down pretending i was tied that way, with men sticking things, mainly themselves, in me, spending time in my room hanging at an uncomfortable angle off the bed, pretending to be tied or forbidden to move by a faceless fantasy man who was controlling me. i don't know where the fantasies came from. i had never been exposed to s&m or molested or anything. i just knew this man was getting off on my pain and i was getting off on that, and i didn't have a clue why ... oh for christ's sake! maybe because you're a cunt and that's the way you're wired up you silly sow! why don't you just accept what you are and learn your place for a change? don't you realize there have always been cunts who are just born painsluts and natural fucktoys for a certain breed of men ... the men god must want to reward in a way only he can ... that's why he makes the toys ... for some very good, very BAD boys! that's the only explanation we can think of but then we're only a pair of tits. Sir! i don't remember any early rituals which involved my budding tits specifically, but one of my secret games did lead to lots of attention for them ... along with the rest of me ... unbelievably, i can feel my face grow hot thinking about it - a full 30 years later! the incredible shame i felt on that day somehow hasn't gone anywhere ... i was discovered, found out, exposed - at age 12 - in full-blown masturbatory torture mode. the game involved sitting for long periods of time on the back tire of an old bicycle in our garage, sitting with my tender little gash on this perch and not allowing my feet to touch the floor ... really the same torture as the device called a pony, i suppose, though i'd certainly never heard of that back then. this was my own discovery, my own need ... the tire wasn't covered with any kind of fender or anything, it was just a very hard, very narrow tire with hard little ridges. it was the perfect width to perch my pussy on - it went inside the fat little cunnylips just right. and oh, what a wonderful game ... starting out just uncomfortable but progressing very nicely to real pain ... always worsening too ... and on the very best spot for a girl to be tortured ... oh god i loved that tire. i visited my tire every chance i could, even getting up earlier than everybody else so i could slip into the garage and get my daily dose of pussy torture. then i would limp back to bed to beat my clit to a spine-mangling cum. i remember the day i got busted was a saturday. i was the only one home and was excited about having a couple of hours to myself, to play my favorite game longer than i'd ever had a chance to. i knew it would be a good session. after about 15 minutes on the tire the pain always worsened rapidly. i had never made it to an hour but today i had two hours and i couldn't wait to find out how bad it was going to get for my bad little cunt. i knew i was bad and needed punishment. i knew where. i was a little nervous but extremely excited about the new level of cuntpain i would soon be swooning my way down into ... i decided to get naked. i was flat out shaking from excitement - and just plain fucklust, really - as i shucked my clothes off without even looking where they went and hopped onto my favorite cunt toy. i loved the new place i was in after an hour had passed. i was in agony. i was sweating, with my hair was matted to my face. i remember crying, sometimes quite frantically, from time to time and feeling like i was going to throw up ... i still remember my clit felt like it was being ripped up with knives. it was by far the worst pain i'd ever encountered. i don't know how much longer i would have stayed on ... i remember my whole body was sweating and shaking from the pain ... but i was hot to stay on too ... oh there's no doubt part of me was partying ... arms flung over the seat and held together as if they were tied, baby tits plopped onto the hot leather seat and squeezed together, head thrown back, my whole body twisting and writhing on my nasty perch ... i remember moaning softly over and over: "honeyyyy please ('honey' was always the wifely term of endearment kathy and i used for our fantasy husband-lovers) let me down? oh honey ... please let me down ... pleeeeees... oh honey please ... oh honeyyyyyyy!" i was so deeply immersed in the pain and in my fantasy that i never even heard the door open or a man enter. so my grandfather got a full performance for who-knows-how-long before i was abruptly made aware of his presence. to picture my father's father, picture a jerry springer guest in his late 50s, gin blossoms, cigarette going constantly, arrogant, fat, racist, ignorant, mean and aggressive. he'd never been interested in me or in any female grandchild. he was interested in the boys because he could take them hunting. i'd never seen him do anything with a girl child. until that day. i first felt a sharp pain in my upper arm as someone grabbed me quite hard. my eyes flew open in shock as i was jerked off my tire, and i gave a little shriek as i was held up by one arm in my grandfather's vise-like grip as he held me out at arm's length and looked me over from head to toe. he kept right on smoking with the other hand. he looked at me like i was the most disgusting thing on earth but he thought it was funny. he grinned at me. it was the most evil grin i'd ever seen and still is. he sat on some old chair and pulled me onto his lap. i remember crying and wiggling but not really doing anything to get away. he kept saying, "little bitch, little bitch in heat" and also "dirty bitch, dirty little bitch in heat" - he never spoke to me or tried to communicate. it was as though i wasn't human. he just cackled these phrases to himself and laughed at me as if i were the best joke he'd ever heard. all the while feeling me up with his greasy tobacco-stained fingers and his filthy ragged fingernails ... i jumped about 3 feet when he stuck his fingers in my pussy. he just laughed harder and tightened his death grip on my arm - what a bruise he left, the first of many - and kept poking at me. he did ask me one question, i remember ... something like "you had a dick up there yet ... need a big dick huh ... you want some dick ..." and on like that ... i didn't answer him. i couldn't, i was crying too hard and also trying to sort out why i suddenly seemed to be in hyperspace. remember the moment in star wars when they first achieve warp drive (so to speak)? cool moment huh ... same thing when i felt my loathsome grandfather's cock poking at me from behind his filthy pants ... and when he - still laughing at me - unzipped his pants and let that ugly red monster loose on my little 12-year-old cuntpsyche ... how to describe the magical moment when a congenital cock addict and worshipper first encounters this touchstone of her deepest spiritual instinct ... first of all, it doesn't matter to whom the cock belongs. from the moment i was first put on my knees and presented with a cock to lick, i was just automatically happier - much. my ears buzzed ... head expanded ... ah, hyperspace, gentlemen ... the world has gone bye bye ... all that exists is this magnificant master, this big red yummy jerking tube of hot hot man skin i'm currently serving with oh so much love ... and i'm in absolute bliss ... alone with my lord and my god ... perfect peace ... even if this particular incarnation of my god did belong to one of the world's most unappealing men! he was one of the world's most adorable men! gorgeous! and so sweet ... he always made us feel so good about ourselves. there were surely no cuter little titties in the world when we were first fortunate enough, because of freakcunt's playtime, to catch donny's eye - oh and he loved us too Sir - what a sweet, giving, WONDERFUL man! we were like little pink apples then, a nice round handful, small, compact - just made for a man's hand. and of course, our happy little nips always hardened up for him like hot rocks! oh he loved us! and spent hours and hours playing with us - i really think he had something to do with us growing so big! cos see, he never really left the hole alone after the big "gotcha!" that day on her little horsie. he pretty much stalked her, would be the word you'd use nowadays. not that he caught her all that often - she got pretty good at never being alone with him. but he was pretty successful at - guess what - grabbing US! it's easier to grab a quick feel than stake out a fuck, for sure. and he took full advantage of that - and of the slit's nature ... who was that sick fuck gonna tell - she was loving every minute of it! he was a child molester. a rapist. ooooooohh, we sure hope you're not saying we're wrong cos that would be a big lie! you wanna lie to Sir, hole? i did enjoy it! okay? you both know it and Sir knows it so what's the point? it's just the next year ... when i was 13 ... you know what happened ... oh yeah bitch! we blossomed into the prettiest most fuckworthy pair of prize titties any man ever ogled ... we were MAGNIFICENT ... we were brand new and happenin' ... we bounced, we jiggled and we WOW-wobbled. we ARRIVED! it seemed like after that, school got really stressful. i know it also had to do with my stupid tits growing to their full size before i was even in high school, but i wondered if the other kids didn't somehow just know i'd been on my knees servicing a cock the night before ... and that i came to school with a man's cum in my belly ... ladies and gentlemen, cleopatra, queen of denial! the reason nobody could stand our cleo is because she was a stuck up little cunt! always reading some stupid BOOK like she just couldn't stand to talk to anyone or actually be PRESENT in a school filled with mere commoners! even we have to admit she was pretty damn cute in those days - not to mention being attached to divine US! - but did she ever accept a date or act like anything but some psycho nun about it? NO! oh you can bet she deserved everything she got from every single person she offended - which was everybody! and of course, when she finally did get what was coming to her - WE were a major beneficiary! :) i clearly was different from other kids in the schools in the small town where i grew up. i never could put my finger on why they seemed so hostile, but i was told later that people thought i was stuck up. never understood what i said that made people think that. i made good grades and was polite to everyone. i was just really interested in novels. all i wanted was to be left alone to read. that made people mad. for some reason. everything got worse the year i grew tits. a lot of people in the high school seemed determined to give me a difficult time. really wanna know what it's like to have tits? you walk into school in the morning and the girls stare at you. they look away. they whisper to each other. they ignore you. the boys don't ignore you. people are always knocking you in the tits with their elbows. most of the time somebody laughs. you try to find a bra that fits but you can't - not at the discount places. the ones your mother buys are so cheap you spill out the top. often there's a pooch of titflesh sticking out of your bra and it can be seen through your clothes. once a guy poked at the pooch and then the part of the tit that was tucked into the bra and said, "why is your tit soft here and hard here?" the whole class was watching and laughed uproariously. guys like that always do that kind of stuff when they have the biggest possible audience. in a cheap bra, they bounce. you bounce. no matter what you do, how you walk or what you wear - you bounce. you go bouncing down the hall, down the stairs, into each and every room. everybody watches you bounce. everybody. guys laugh, stare comically at your chest, pretend to talk to it, constantly try to sneak feels and talk about your tits nonstop. some of the comments you can't hear, some you can - mostly about how they'd like to get their hands on a pair of jugs like that. etc. my freshman year actually was not as bad at the beginning as it got later in the year. i guess when they got to know me they got more hostile. by the end of the year they had started calling me "tit mama." oh for cryin out loud stop that damn whining and get to the good part already! jesus! i guess by "the good part" you would mean the rape by that gang of vicious little creeps that pulled me into the boys' room ... oh please! that was rape like i'm sophia loren! boys will be boys! they were a little rambunctious maybe but it's nothing you weren't asking for! oh Sir, it was just great ... one minute we're strutting our (GREAT!) stuff down the hall, kinda late cos the hole always had to go by the library to get more books to stuff up her twat, and these - precious! - young ruffians pulled us romantically into the john and proceeded to lavish the most awesome, loving, WONDERFUL attention ... on US! they were just all about US, and all over US, grabbing, squeezing, playing HARD like healthy young boys ought to! oh it was delicious Sir ... we were in seventh heaven! and of course, the hole was doing her usual "who, me?" number, wiggling her stinky ass all over the place and pretending to cry, "oh boo hoo don't take my panties off, just feel my titties!" can you believe that moron!? as if you can stop healthy young boys from doing what comes naturally! mostly i remember hands. just more hands than i've ever dreamed a woman could feel on her. they were everywhere. squeezing my tits so hard ... much harder than little kathy, that's for sure. so many of them grabbing at me ... pulling my hair ... i don't remember ever screaming. at first they just took my bra off and took turns playing with my tits, passing me around, pushing me back and forth, laughing at me and the way my tits could be made to shake. then i had sort of a bad patch when they decided to take my panties off and "have some fun with the bitch," but once i had a cock in me i calmed down a lot. it was just looking at all the sneer-y faces that had me feeling like i might scream or run or throw up. as long as i just concentrated on the glorious sensation of a cock hurting my pussy as it pushed its way insistently into my little fuckhole, i was fine. kind of like the way peter didn't sink when he walked on water until he took his eyes off jesus. i never panic as long as i just stay focused on cock. peter had his god, i have mine. ah, why so close-mouthed, you smelly slit? you never had any trouble blathering your crap to Sir before, did you? aren't you leaving out the ending of this charming little story? as for us, we LOVED those sweet young men. they pawed us til we were ready to drop - we've never had such a great workout! those sweet guys were the most ATTENTIVE, thoughtful gentlemen - they practically had us giving milk, Sir! i was going to tell the rest. i've come this far. i came twice. in their hands. they didn't bend me over something or put me on all fours or anything. there were so many hands holding me that i was just held in the air and spread and placed over cocks, passed around like a ragdoll. their hands literally covered my body. sometimes they would negotiate and switch places so everyone got his fair share of access to my tits and pussy ... and in the midst of this, i not only made the kind of noise traditionally associated with a female approaching a truly great cum, but right on the verge of what promised to be a mind-blowing orgasm, i lost my cool and opened my mouth and cried out, "kiss me!" after i came that first time and after a great deal of derisive laughter, name-calling and lewd discussion of my orgasm and about my stupid request for a kiss - i still came again. they made me have two orgasms over which i had no control. they had cocks. well, after that it was tally ho! at school as well as at home sweet home, dodging granddaddy (not US you understand, he was our sweet baby, a sweet daddycock sent to please little girls everywhere!) and trying to stay out of the way of our favorite boy scout troop! oh that little bitch did cheat us out of some fun! but we always got attention sooner or later, especially in that school - what a friendly place it was! we loved it ... it seemed like everywhere we went SOMEBODY wanted to grab us and just LOVE on us - it was GREAT! we had a great time in high school! yeah, i'm glad you enjoyed it. it was complicated for me. by careful planning, dropping out of everything and never venturing anywhere alone, i made it through the next three years with just some incidents of tit-grabbing and only two rapes - and one of those just a single. that first gang rape, though, had secured my reputation - no, my fame. i don't think there was anyone in the town, let alone high school, who didn't know i'd been fucked by close to 20 guys in the boys toilet and had thoroughly enjoyed myself. they also knew, of course, that i had positively howled with lust for more cock while they fucked me, come at least 10 times, and even now am continuing to hound them all day, begging for more cock and insisting they all kiss me while we fuck. or so the story eventually went. on honors night when my name was called i went up to get my award and guys started yelling "titty mama" and making sex noises, imitating a female, and yelling in high voices, "kiss me!" and my parents heard it as did the whole school and everybody listened to the continuing cacophony of sex sounds as i - yes, bounced - my way onstage to get my little trophy and then back to my seat. i didn't go to my graduation. and that's really what having tits is all about charlie brown. it's not a particularly happy ending to this tale, but i'm afraid the last years have seen some sad neglect of my tits. there were periods of isolation and drug-taking and then a long illness of a spiritual nature that rendered an evil spell and put my tits and pussy practically to sleep! they weren't dead though, and neither were my fantasies. my world changed when i found the rape and torture sites. it was like opening an old closet full of treasure i forgot i had. an old and new world both, full of pleasures both strange and familiar. pleasures buried but never forgotten. the sleeping cunt has been awakened, and her tits along with her. we're all wide awake and dreaming now. the end