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Topics - morselman

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Other / Pleasers plumpen a piggie
« on: June 11, 2019, 12:57:52 AM »
Fattening piggie up for the kill...

Other / Pitiless piggie pitters
« on: June 11, 2019, 12:46:41 AM »
Greeting party for piggyums... 

Other / Yummy yachty
« on: May 18, 2019, 06:06:03 AM »
Cove coven

Other / Traditional island hospitality
« on: May 18, 2019, 02:11:29 AM »
Sweet dreams until he wakes up inside the oven...   

Piggie Plumpkins meets “The Femcan-azons” motorcycle gang. Episode 2
By morselman

“On your feet piggie!” The gang leader yanked Plumpkins up with a powerful tug that nearly dislocated his shoulder. Sharp gravel and broken glass from beer bottles poked into his bare feet felt as if he were walking on a bed of nails--all of it heated by the merciless midday sun that was beating down oven-like to sunburn his pasty skin.

The encircling Femcanazons whistled, making joyful catcalls and yum-yum noises as they admired the plump tenderness of his naked flesh. They all stripped off their leather biker jackets, exposing luscious breasts cradled by skimpy bikini tops. Their trim narrow waists and tight tummys rose up from shapely wide hips, rounded buttocks and full thighs--all wrapped in tight jeans, low cut to expose deeply intended dimples of Venus. Fierce looking tattoos covered every inch of their exposed skin.

The more sturdily built Femcanazons wielded crowbars and formed into an outer perimeter. The more petite ones energetically swung chains overhead and menacingly approached their cowering prey. Plumpkins frantically searched for an escape to no avail. The leader oversaw all with fists firmly planted upon her hips. She leaned back--roaring with laughter at his plight, then straightened up and said with a cruel smirk “Best to take your medicine like a hog, piggie--any sign of cowardice during the initiation only makes us meaner!”

The chain whirling women came at Plumpkins with precisely aimed blows upon his elbows and shins that caused him to howl and reflexively grasp where they struck. Each and every one of his moves were expertly anticipated and exploited by his tormentors--they aimed each subsequent strike at the most sensitive spot involuntarily exposed. This resulted in more reflexive motions that led to even more well anticipated, well aimed strikes. All of this produced a macabre sort of dance--as if Plumpkins were a marionette being manipulated by merciless puppeteers!

When he staggered beyond the encircling chain wielders, Plumpkins was greeted by a rain of crowbar blows--when he stumbled to the ground, kicking and stomping boots trampled him! Soon deep purple bruises and spike induced punctures festooned every inch of Plumpkins’ tormented flesh. His pathetic outcrys of agony and outbursts of sobbing did nothing to appease the cruelty of the Femcanazons--it only fanned the flames of their sadism! Blessed escape from their relentless abuse arrived only after he had fainted dead away…

Plumpkins regained consciousness to the sound of rowdy Femcanazon laughter and cursing. He was dangling with his arms chained to an overhead roof-beam inside their smoke-filled, beer-reeking clubhouse. His toes barely touched the floor. His captors were all occupied with a game of craps, reacting boisterously to each roll of the dice. Oddly, no money seemed to be changing hands.

The gang leader turned away from the ruckus and gave Plumpkins a wide smile. “Congratulations piggie--you’ve been accepted into our gang as ‘mascot.’ All that’s left now is the celebratory BBQ…”

Just then, a sturdily built Femcanazon with enormous breasts rose up from the game in triumph and declared “I won this round--and I’m claiming an inner-thigh!” Her companions greeted this with groans and curses, then restarted the game for a chance at selecting their own portions of Plumpkins. She pulled a soggy cigar stub from her pocket, placed it between her grinning lips and strolled over to a shelf well-stocked with blowtorches.

She selected one, carefully hefting it to verify it was well fueled. The Femcanazon ignited the torch and used it to light her soggy stogie, which reluctantly compiled after some vigorous puffing. She then strolled over to where the helpless Plumpkins was dangling and crouched down next to his left leg. She looked up into Plumpkins’ terrified face with a nonchalant glance, then focused on her task--gently caressing his inner-thigh flesh with her blowtorch flame!   

“Let’s see…” she muttered softly, smiling to herself with smoky cigar puffs. “I’m thinking I’d like my piggie-thigh steak done medium-well tonight…”

Other / ungrateful piggies
« on: May 15, 2019, 02:09:05 AM »
Such thoughtless piggies!

Other / Lana welcomes a fresh piggie
« on: May 12, 2019, 12:39:13 AM »
Lana establishes her brand...

General Discussion / The 3 stooges meet some femcans on Venus...
« on: May 10, 2019, 03:46:45 AM »
Hey gang--here's some femcan fun...(cut and paste to your browser if the link doesn't work)   


Other / cannibalatrixs with castaway
« on: April 23, 2019, 06:23:35 AM »
catch of the day...

Other / mature femcan takes young piggie in hand...
« on: April 22, 2019, 09:20:51 PM »
tenderizing a young tough   

Other / earthman on the menu
« on: April 22, 2019, 09:07:11 PM »
close encounter of the femcan kind

Other / piggie wrangling wenches
« on: April 22, 2019, 08:55:12 PM »
roundin' up the piggie roast...

Piggie Plumpkins meets “The Femcan-azons” motorcycle gang. Episode 1
By morselman

Piggie Plumpkins slammed the hood of his car down with a huff. Steam poured out from the ruptured radiator hose as a big puddle of antifreeze pooled under the engine. He pulled a phone from a pocket--no bars! Tossing it to the ground he uttered a curse of frustration.     
As Plumpkins looked around himself, a rising panic began to replace his anger. He was in the absolute middle of nowhere on a desert highway--and the day was young. Soon the inexorably climbing sun would turn the parched landscape into a deathtrap! He opened the trunk and frantically searched for the emergency kit.

Finally finding it, he gave the ancient corroded zipper a firm tug--the bag’s rotted fabric ripped open and the contents spilled out. He greedily grabbed the water pack from the grimy trunk floor but then gave out a cry of despair--it had long ago sprung a leak and was bone dry…

Just then, Plumpkins heard the sound of a distant engine roaring along the roadway--a wave of relief washed over him--until it became a symphony of many engines--motorcycle engines--unmistakably Harleys. Suddenly, a dozen radically chopped and bobbed motorcycles, carrying as tough looking a crowd of women as Plumpkins had ever seen, came rolling over a rise of the road.         

Upon spotting the helpless Plumpkins, they immediately diverted course and began circling around him with hoots and whistles. They finally came to a stop and climbed off their rides. They all wore skintight blue jeans and flat soled shit kicking motorcycle boots that reached high up the calve. Their leather jackets sported rocker patches on the back. The upper read “Femcanazons” and the lower read “Motorcycle Club.” Between was an image of a piggie skewered on a spit.

The leader approached Plumpkins and towered over him, placing her hands upon her shapely wide hips. Her sharply protruding breasts were right at his eye level, nearly poking into them. A jet black Betty Page hairdo framed her face. She had a tough, but attractive visage--her jaw seemed just a bit too strong to be able to call her pretty, but the over all effect was still definitely sexy.

“Well, well, well--aren’t you a lucky piggie!” She declared, prompting a loud roar of laughter from her companions. She glanced around at them with a mischievous smirk. “It just so happens that we’ve been looking for a piggie to “join” our gang--to become a part of us!”

“A part of each of us!” one of her companions said, producing an uproar of merry guffaws from the crowd drawing ever closer around Plumpkins.

“That’s quite an honor I’m sure…” Plumpkins stammered, “but I really need to be going…”

“But we insist!” the leader said, quickly slipping on a set of brass knuckles and punching deep into Plumpkins’ torso--knocking the wind out of him as another Femcanazon swung her powerful leg from behind right up into Plumpkins’ groin, lifting him high off the ground. He crumpled into a heap with the crowd’s laughter still ringing in his ears.

Plumpkins awoke to find himself naked and tightly bound to the sissy-bar of the leader’s chopper as they rolled down the road. A rusty chain was run between his teeth and wrapped around his neck, then around the chest and belly, to be secured with an enormous padlock.

The other gang members noticed him stirring and pulled alongside. They began poking the lit end of their cigarettes into the exposed portions of his flesh, making a game of it. They all seemed to be focusing on a special effort to burn his nipples, much to Plumpkins’ horror.

The game finally ended as the group arrived at a rundown shack. “Welcome to our clubhouse piggie!” the leader said as she swung off her bike and unlocked Plumpkins. He slumped to the ground with a moan. She gave him a sharp kick and bent over close. “No time for laying about piggie--you’re due for initiation into our gang.”

Plumpkins looked up bleary eyed to see all the Femcanazons closing around him in an ever tightening circle, each carrying her weapon of choice cradled in a hand. Some had enormous crowbars with spikes welded upon them. Others swung chains, also bespiked. All had adorned their boots with overshoes sporting sharp cleats and projecting spikes…     

Other / Furious Femcan Gang
« on: April 15, 2019, 03:05:54 AM »
Woe be unto any piggie that encounters the Femcan Cycle-gang!

Other / Poised with her piggie-sticker!
« on: April 15, 2019, 02:16:17 AM »
Searching for the second course...

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