All Women are Bitches Ch. 19

Good evening, dear people of the world. How are you doing? What brings you to my doorstep at this hour? Perhaps you wandered in by accident. Or mere curiosity. Well, whatever brought you here, since you might be here a while, why not sit down and spend some time with me. I have a story which I would very much like to share with you. My name is Stephen Michael Edwards. A tall young Black man living in the state of Massachusetts. I'll be your misanthropic bisexual Trickster for the evening, thank you very much. The story that I'm about to tell you involves a very wicked person getting their just desserts. Please, read on.

I'm a student at Champion City Community College, one of the better community colleges in Massachusetts. Champion City Community College has campuses in Brockton, Randolph and Easton. The school is fortunate enough to have an even number of men and women on its student body and a kick-ass Athletics Department. The Champion City Community College Department of Athletics currently sponsors Men's Intercollegiate Basketball, Golf, Tennis, Baseball, Cross Country, Volleyball, Soccer, Ice Hockey, Bowling, Wrestling, Football and Swimming along with Women's Intercollegiate Basketball, Cross Country, Ice Hockey, Bowling, Volleyball, Soccer, Softball, Wrestling, Rugby, Golf, Swimming and Tennis. They compete in the National Junior College Athletic Association's Division III. I'm not a student-athlete but I love college sports. I always show support for the school sportsmen, especially the Football studs. Word up.

Have you ever met a woman who loves messing people up? The kind of bitch who always has something nasty and rude to say. A chick who seems mad at the world and never misses an opportunity to screw other people over. Well, such a bitch is called a sociopath. A sociopath is a person without conscience. He or she can do anything at all without feeling guilty. There are a lot more female sociopaths than male sociopaths out there, although scientists deny it. Blame it on their spinelessness and politically correct deference to the feminists and other bitches who use the Pussy Pass to get ahead in life. Anyhow, I've battled lots of sociopaths in my day. I have a special power for detecting them. I think it's because I'm not that different from them. I can do almost anything at all without feeling guilty. However, I don't go around screwing over innocent people for kicks. I choose to hunt the sociopaths of the world and mess them up. Just call me an anti-sociopath sociopath. The one who hunts his own kind in order to protect the humans.

Lots of Sociopaths out there love to mess up the Humans. It's easy and I know how tempting it is. Humans aren't too bright. They're not that intelligent and they're very easy to fool. If you're born good-looking, intelligent, charming and completely remorseless, you're the ultimate predator. When a sociopath goes after a human, it's a lot like a tiger going after a three-legged goat in a corridor. In other words, the human doesn't stand a chance. I'm not a tiger. Nah, more like a fearsome panther ready and willing to give the meanest tiger out there a run for its money. Yeah, that's how things usually play out. My power is that I can detect the sociopaths regardless of whatever disguise they happen to be wearing. Unfortunately, I'm not always able to stop them. They're ruthless. They're cruel. They're manipulative. They're extremely intelligent. And they're pure evil. Does that sound like a fun? The hard part is that I usually try to warn the human about what kind of evil predator is pretending to be his or her spouse, lover, friend, business partner or buddy. I'm almost never believed. Come on. A perfect stranger tells you that your wife is pure evil, would you believe him? Of course not. Most people wouldn't. That's why a sociopath's tricks work almost every time.

They don't work on me, though. Because I'm more ruthless than most sociopaths. And when I want to be, I can be more evil than the devil. If you don't believe me, watch what I do to a sociopath who has incurred my wrath by preying upon the humans I considered to be under my protection. The sociopath in question is Louisa Nelson, a librarian in my college campus library. She looked ordinary enough but I knew what she truly was. An evil fiend worthy of being a member of the devil's elite. A five-foot-eight, black-haired, brown-eyed, white-skinned, plump and matronly woman with a penchant for dark business suits and too-tight dress pants. Oh, and tacky hand bags too. Must not forget the tacky hand bags. She had those beady little eyes hiding behind horn-rimmed glasses. Her favorite thing to do was to harass the humans in the library. She considered the library to be her territory. Sad thing is it's one of my favorite hangouts. You can't have two super predators occupying one territory. They're bound to clash. I've clashed with the sociopathic super bitch before. I emerged the victor. It wasn't easy, though. You need to be a strong person, with a certain coldness of mind and agility of thought if you want to stand a chance against a sociopath. The sociopath's talent for manipulation is legendary. It can turn friend against friend in the blink of an eye. Word. Lucky for me, my only friend was my lizard brain.

So I ambushed my favorite female sociopath in the library one night. When she came to, she was in my basement. Completely nude, bound and gagged. Yeah. I stood before her. A tall man clad in black from head to toe and wearing a black leather mask. She couldn't tell what ethnicity I was, let alone what I looked like. I told her that she had been a wicked bitch all the days of her life and that she was going to get punished for it. I told her that I knew her secret. The fact that she had no conscience whatsoever was not alien to me. No force on the planet could make a sociopath feel remorse. However, a sociopath can and will feel pain when pricked or prodded. Guaranteed. So, I decided to unleash hell upon the female sociopath. Watch what happens.

First, I took out my favorite leather belt. Time for the bitch to get some serious ass whipping. I began whipping her. She screamed, though it was muffled by the gag. Laughing, I lashed over her back, thighs and face with the leathery whip. It left some nice red marks. I smiled. This was good. Whip the bitch until she's raw. That's how I like to do it. I flogged her and watched her body thrash about. Oh, my. The big woman was turning a nice shade of reddish purple from both sweating and getting flogged. I admired my handiwork. Nice. How do I spice things up? I saw some candles on a table nearby and got an idea. I flipped my lighter and lit them up. I took the burning candles and let the hot wax drip on my bound female prisoner's back. She couldn't run. She couldn't hide. She couldn't scream. All she could do was squirm as the hot wax dripped on her back. I smiled as the red marks appeared. One after another. Until her back, thighs, arms and legs looked like a pizza topping. I smiled. This was totally awesome. Now, how to top that?

It's a known fact that the bigger the woman, the tighter her asshole. Also, the asshole is the only honest part of a woman's body. Not her mouth, which is infamous for uttering all manners of lies. From the most seemingly harmless fib to the deadliest accusation and most outlandish statement. No, the woman's mouth is not honest. Her pussy? Oh, please. The pussy lies. End of story. It lies about orgasms and its owner routinely fakes them. And that's just for starters. No, not the vagina. I'm running out of options here. Wait a minute. What about her asshole? Is a woman's asshole honest? I don't know. Little has been said or written about women's assholes. I need to find out to what extent a woman's asshole's honest lies. I need to administer a test. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll go fetch my tools.

Okay. I've got with me the King of all Dildos. The Sex Man Power Drill 9000. Affectionately known as the SMPD-9000 by male and female dildo buyers everywhere. It's really the father of all dildos. Twenty inches long and quite thick. Made of cool steel sheathed in sythetic skin to give it that special, natural feel. It doesn't feel like a mechanical marvel. Rather, it feels like a real dick. Only the biggest dick you've ever seen. I stood before my quarry with it. She looked at me, eyes wide. I smiled and nodded. Yes, bitch. The dildo is for you. All for you. It's the granddaddy of all motherfucking dildos and it's going up your ass. Sans lube. What do you have to say for yourself? Nothing. You're quivering with fear. You're mumbling through your gag. You can't say shit. And it's going to go so far up your ass they won't be able to tell where you end and it begins. No famous last words before we begin? Are you sure? Alright, then. Let's do this.

As had been said, finding a spot in a woman's body that's incapable of lying is a lot like trying to find an honest car salesman. Lucky for us, we found the asshole. I placed the head of the dildo against my favorite librarian's puckered asshole after spreading her plump butt cheeks wide open. With a swift thrust, I went in. The agonized, muffled howl that erupted from her mouth was music to my ears. The super-sized dildo was finally inside the big woman 's asshole. With a song in my heart and a boner in my pants, I rammed the dildo deeper inside her. Into the forbidden depths of her asshole. I thrust deep into her, burying the dildo inside the deepest recesses of her booty hole. In places where the sun itself had never been. And I say let there be light, and my super-sized dildo is its harbinger! I proceeded to widen my favorite female sociopath's asshole with the dildo, stretching it from a tight fit to a wide receiver. Until I felt satisfied with my work. The sociopathic librarian's asshole had gone from a tight ass to a now gaping asshole. I slowly pulled the dildo out of it and admired it. Nice. Kinda makes me proud, you know. Satisfied, I whacked her ass. She was crying. Just sobbing like a bitch, really.

When dawn came, the sociopath found herself back in her apartment. Cleaned up, rested and happy. The only reminder she had of last night's events was a sore asshole. Oh, and written on her back was a message telling her to stop harassing random people. Because even though she's a ruthless and evil sociopath who's got no conscience and loves torturing people, she can still feel pain. Oh, yeah. And lots of it too. So she had better curb her natural urge to bug people, or else. I'd pay her another visit. And this time I'd be far less pleasant. Upon returning to the library, I learned that she stopped bothering the students. I smiled. A little attitude adjustment was just what she needed. Who says sociopaths can't be made to behave? I say that with discipline and a little encouragement, miracles can happen. Do you agree? Well, if you don't, we just might have to spend some quality time together in the basement. Care to join me?