Peter_Torque
Grill Instructor
Registered: May 2002
Location: No. California
Posts: 4175 |
The trial of Peter_Torque
Step right up! There's room in the jury box for everyone! Yappers in front, howlers in back. Leave room for your pitching arm and take advantage of the mounds of rotted vegetation I've thoughtfully provided for your hurling pleasure.
Droners like me and Paint, as soon as PT steps up, let's start sawing away with long-winded rants borne more of our love of typing than for having a real point to make.
Snarling rats, you wait by the door, ready to pounce on PT's ankles and squeal with delight as you rip the flesh away from the bones, with your little pointy-faces upturned toward the stark moonlight glow of youthful exuberence and passion slipping away post-by-post, even as you read this.
Sonja, whoever the fuck you are (I've never spoken to or about you before. Pleased to meet you.) Prepare itemized lists of percieved crimes to screech at the prisoner. Goth hillbillies get a mirror and laugh at yourself. We do.
You, hog-boy. You special person, get your nose right down there in your own shit and give us some world-class wallowing. Come on, squeal like a pig. Ain't he got a purdy mouth?
Lurkers, lurk.
Laughers, please scatter yourself through the crowd, the better to take advantage of your delusions of adequacy by howling in protest at every word PT utters! Cool with me! I think laughers have the edge. We're allowed a bit of leniency. Right, Wonderaz? JEB? Dingle? Truly funny people?
How many grams are in a quarter ounce?
If a number just popped into your head, then I want you guys over here by me. You're fun. If that number was "5" or less, you should go take your kids for a spin in the Yugo (while you still own it).
That's a "downshift," when you throw something out there in midstream to change your vector. Veering through the sky...
Remember "Sky King?" See? There's another one.
I've got another one for you: Lenny Bruce. What's he famous for, anyway?
Tell me one Lenny Bruce joke... tick tick tick... come on... see?
George Carlin? He's a lot better known, but he's also known for having had the same problems as Lenny with saying what he wanted to.
Seargent at arms: The Judge will enter the room, and sit upon the mighty throne of righteous adjudication, bearing the sacred FAQ in one hand and the almighty hammer of deletion, from which there is no appeal, in the other.
The prisoner will come through that door over there. He will be lead by chains of unicorn hearts linked together in an unbreakable bond, the shit of shame still clinging to the tip of his nose. He'll be quaking and crying and gasping choked apologies between blows. (Paint's patended "Specious tag" : "Watch him deny it" and deferential asides to the jury : "he's just not GETTING IT!" will be excellent techniques to use at this point, before the drawing and quartering and general bloodshed ensues.)
There will be no defense allowed. Remember, logs and links to long dead threads exist to make anything is possible, so there doesn't need to be a defense! Damn straight!
Downshift. We're the first generation in all of humankind to be able to do this. It's easy to gloss over (boy, do I know that), but you have to stop for a moment and think about that:
We're the first ones. Ever. Sitting in a room in your home for hour upon hour each day, staring at a little box and whacking out words or whacking off, period.
We're pioneers!
Sounds noble, doesn't it? It ain't. One wrong click and suddenly you're confronted with the sight of a japanese woman shitting in her own mouth or a guy forcing a watermelon up his butt. (And by "one wrong click" I mean among the thousands of deliberate ones.)
Face it, we might be pioneers, but mainly we're
PIONEERS OF PORN!
Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls of the jury, spectators worldwide, the moment you have been waiting for has come. Bailiff, bring out the prisoner, the smuttist, the prince of porn, PETER_TORQUE!
Judge: State your full name and occupation.punk.
PT: PETER_Torque. (The _ is silent.) I'm a fuckup, sir.
Judge: PT, do you understand the charges being brought against you?
PT: Duh, nope. Pah... did I push the wrong button? I'm kinda slow, you know, just goofin' around, y'know.
(Begin tomato volley! You long-time PT haters, get those rotten cabbages in there! Load 'em up with a rock! Aim for the head!)
Over the din of outrage and gasps of "How can he be so STUPID!!!" The judge bangs his gavel, clears his throat and says; "You can't follow directions."
Small children armed with pointy sticks cluster around PT, poking him in the butt and squealing as he reaches blindly for them. He bellows in pained outrage.
"But... but... my legacy..."
"YOUR WHAT?" the mob roars. Hysterical family members leap over the railing, ready to pummel PT into a quivering bloody pulp, and are held back by court officers who sneer at PT over their shoulders; "if this weren't my job, motherfucker..."
PT: My legacy. It's okay to say it. We're the first generation to do this. You can look at the internet as masturbation for your eyes or a playground. I've always seen it as a playground. For a long time, I thought of it as a
PLAYGROUND OF PORN!
(Juror #3 whispered something that sounds vaguely like "I did too," is promptly replaced by alternate juror and taken out back to be worked over by a pedant and two overwrought single moms who's children can't remember their faces, but can sure describe the back of Mom's head.)
PT: Yes, a playground. I'll show you what I mean. This will be fun, I promise. Bring out state's evidence #I12b-4b, please.
Defense would like to show a post that was read by a bunch of sailors aboard a United States ship in the Persian Gulf. It was written in reply to the query; "How do I get my girlfriend to blow me?"Back before it was cool to support our troops.
I apologize for the profanity, your holiness, but since it was done in support of our troops, it is everyone's patriotic duty to read it.
Those with underage browsers are asked to leave the room and play tasteful Kenny G. music at them until they die.
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HOW TO GET YOUR SUPERMODEL FIANCEE TO SUCK YOUR DICK
First off, somebody congratulate me on a superb title. Its the result of staring at the monitor for ten minutes with the reels of my brain spinning like the secondhand on this cheap "Rolax" wristwatch from Hong Kong. The title also follows Mark Twain's advice for writing: "eschew surplusage."
Unfortunately for all of us, I don't follow advice. I usually pass it along. After all, if you don't follow it, passing it along is your only option.
I got up at 4 AM to go out on the deck, listened to the waves crashing and inhaled the "heady" (today's theme) mix of salt air and smoldering vegetation (which is something I don't normally do as a rule because I really like it but I also want to be able to find my car keys once in a while, wink nudge) to talk to you about
GETTING YOUR SUPERMODEL FIANCEE TO SUCK YOUR DICK
The first thing to understand is that it's YOUR fault if she doesn't want to grab "little HoRiZoN" between her pretty jaws and force it down her esophagus. You have neglected an important area in your life, that of getting your dick sucked in a courteous, yet enthusiastic manner by the mouth-of-the-moment (or in your case, your intended bride, so this is your last chance to master this art of oral persuasion or lose forever the possibility that you'll get her to gargle the goop in the future, so listen up!), then going about your affairs afterward with a spring in your step and a relieved state of mind.
Whether you are running the country, wheeling wonderaz into the sunroom for his prune juice and fruitcup, or merely sitting in front of a computer, staring at a monitor with your dick in your hand (Ha! Caught you!), at some point you'll think to yourself: "god-DAMN! I'd sure like to get my dick sucked!"
I'd like to help you realize that dream.
It isn't easy, this art of GETTING YOUR SCHLONG SPIT-POLISHED. Since there is heretofore no official manuals or community college courses (note to self: revisit lecture-circuit idea) devoted to it, I feel it best if you refer to some of my previous discourses on related matters and then meet back here afterward for the lecture.
It's very important, both to verify my credentials and as the precursor to properly understanding, within the given model, the course material for this vital curriculum; TALKING SOMEBODY INTO SWALLOWING YOUR THROBBING MAMMALIAN PROJECTION AND JACKING IT WITH THEIR THROAT MUSCLES UNTIL YOU SPLORT DOWN THEIR PIEHOLE.
[Edit]Chapter 1, eating pussy.
http://www.asylumnation.com/asylum/...9748#post359748
Appendix:
Getting women around the world to play with themselves:
http://www.asylumnation.com/asylum/...5458#post365458
Read that second one. Now goddamnit, it's important. If you saw "foreskin" and went "ewww" then you missed the point; it was about getting women all over the world to feel comfortable and aroused enough to play with themselves, plus a little education about anatomy thrown in to satisfy the curiousity. Though I doubt many would speak up and admit they'd read it a few times to "get the point," In my heart, I know.
At least that day I had the satisfaction of having expressed my viewpoint clearly, and went to bed with the sound of little grunts and moans worldwide ringing in my ears. Now I ask you, what have you accomplished today? See?
We're going to be using this technique (called "misdirection" by magicians, politicians and bankers), in our impending discussion about
PUTTING YOUR PECKER IN HER PUCKER
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Okay, you done? Good. I know that was a heap of words, but since it was about sexual gratification (rated #2 in the category "important shit to know," in a joint survey by NASCAR and the National Rifle Association), the importance of which should be obvious to you by now, or you can just run along to play ames-gay with the olls-tray and let the big kids talk about fucking. Go on, I'm talking about you. Yeah, YOU. Git.
You don't need to learn how to get your dick sucked because nobody ever will, because you're a twerp with a bad case of online penis-envy whom no self-respecting Special Olympics 5-yard dash winner would even let touch her. Never mind any normal woman willingly let you splatter your (hopefully) last-generation-before-extinction DNA on her tonsils. You have to visit japscat sites because you can't even get anyone to SHIT on you. Now GIT!
PUTTING YOUR PORK ON HER PALATE
You have to consider your dick from her viewpoint. Go ahead, do it. Get on your knees (mentally) and look it right in that one eye and say to yourself: "what would it be like to open my yob and stick my head down over that thing?" Y'see? Not too appetizing when you see it from her point of view, is it? (Though some guys would give their vertebrae just to do it once.)
Add to it the knowlege of how often you've beaten that fucker raw and put it in places you'd rather not think about. No wonder miss priss looks at you with the same horrified expression as Janet Leigh in the shower-scene from "Psycho" every time you drop trou and go "Now? Willya? Pleeeeease?"
We're going to fix that.
This will be divided into two sections: making her comfortable and aroused enough to "lick the spoon" (pt. 1) and getting her hot enough to let you fuck her throat (pt. 2)
Pt. 1: Women need five things to talk themselves into initially sucking your dick. Men need one thing for them to get their dick sucked.
The five things women need are:
security, commitment, sense of adventure, curiousity and patience.
The one thing men need to allow their dick to be sucked is:
OPPORTUNITY.
Start with your dick. Look at it. Go ahead, right now. Go get it. Whip it out. See? What the hell is that? The "last chicken-neck in the fridge?" After she gets used to the idea of swilling your piss-nozzle around in her maw just to feel it's growth-potential, you'd best keep it stashed - but handy - until it goes full-mast. The best way to do that is to accomplish the feats of daring mentioned in the first article about lapping her tender pudenda to "prime the pump."
And the best place to start is in the shower. Don't get all romantic and squishy, there's plenty of time for that later. Play. Spit water at each other and tickle bits while your eyes are closed. Be a kid. This loosens things up and lets her know that you're okay with yourself. Women won't suck your dick if there's pressure to do so, only if they truly want to. There has to be a payoff for them, because they have to admire someone a great deal to accomplish a true throat-fuck. (That's why they call it "sucking-up," y'know.)
Once you're clean and in bed (the second chapter will cover matters of cleanliness and such, along with tips- dipping it in the waterfountain before giving your secretary "dick-tation," wiping your dick on the Oval Office curtains, using rubbing alcohol swabs and a belt-sander in an emergency- but we'll concentrate on the introduction of cocksucking into her life in a nurturing, holistic organic environment for now), you're halfway to having your masterblaster prodding her adam's apple, and didn't even know it. You dawg.
The first step in the misdirection technique is to spend an inordinate time kissing, far longer than you think you should. Then start making forays down to her breasts and pubes, returning again and again to her face. (Remember, you want her to be more oral than usual, that's the point.)
You are not going to convince her to suck your dick, you're going to LET her.
After you have brought her to organism a couple of times, following the patented directions in chapter #1, GIVING HER A SEVERE TONGUE-LASHING, you'll be ready to make your move.
Remember, she actually wants to (it's three of the five things women need) but needs a lot of attention and kind instruction to overcum her fear of her gag reflex making her spraypaint your lower torso with her lunch, while holding her breath, and let you get a couple full-length lunges down her gullet between gasps.
What, you didn't think I was talking about one of those teenage parking-lot jobs where she tentatively stuck her tongue out and licked the tip, made a face and said "ICK!" and you knew it was probably those thirteen beer-pisses you had taken earlier in the evening, so instead of saying "gimme a Kleenex" (girls always have kleenex, nimrod) or dipping it in the gasoline filler tube, you got pissed and turned Barry Manilow all the way up and called her a "dyke," didja?
I'm talking about a bold experiment that will change your lives. Listen, women have more holes that swiss cheese. There's a reason for that. They can endure amazing things and stretch any of them (within reason) to accomodate just about anything, as long as the payoff is worth it.
This starts not with what you say, but what you DON'T say.
Have a little teddy-bear of honey at the ready. (Aussies use Vegamite, it's a dandy lubricant and will remind you of your encounter for days afterward. Brits can use treacle or brown sauce.) Use it to dab some on her nipples and lick it off. Take your time. Women love this.
Hold the tip of your tongue below her throbbing clematis and drip a little there, lapping it up at your leisure. When she's sufficiently distracted, hand the honey to her and scootch around sideways, presenting your lower half to her just enough she will have to respond or put the honey down.
If she does the latter, stop her. Say, "oh babe, I thought you might like to try something new." (You challenge her sense of adventure. What's she gonna do? Say; "I'm sorry you did all that work, but I have no sense of adventure."? Nope.) Here's where the misdirection move takes place.
Don't say a word. Leave your busy little fingers right where they were and be stock-still. Give her this look:
The "move" is actually not a move at all. She knows what you want. She's holding honey, and hopefully, she'll have your throbbing cudgel in her other hand. Let the silence stand between you 'til it feels like you're going to pop. The first one to speak loses. Don't try to relieve that pressure in any way, not unless you want to go back to a little missionary-work before bedtime. I'll say it again: THE FIRST ONE TO SPEAK, LOSES!
Some instinct will kick in, and she will let you know that she wants to relieve this tension. It's a small step, but the most vital one on the way to real honest-to-god deep throatville. If she is so bold as to say something like: "Y'know, how 'bout I suck your dick?" You're in, and can skip the next part and go directly to "Conquering the gag-reflex."
If she's hesitant and won't say anything, reach out, put her hand on your cock and move it up and down a little, and bend over like you're going to kiss her. Of course, you will taste like pussy (a frequent latent fantasy with women anyway) and you get that oral thing happening in a direct, yet subtle way.
Another approach is to reach for the honey and pour a little in the old nozzle slit. Pretty fucking suggestive of your intentions, don'tcha think? It's all gotta be pantomime, pal. Be creative, because unless she says something, anything, you can't speak.
When she finally does, it'll either be something like "oh. Okay." with that little sigh familiar to all Liv Tyler fans, and begin to take your dork into her pretty gob, or she'll say "Ick! I don't want to."
There are two routes to take at this point; either you can say something endearing and caring like; "I like to think you love me, but I'm just not sure sometimes. I love going down on you, but you seem to think there's something wrong with me." (Challenging her maternal instinct, the strongest force in nature.)
Or you can pull out the duct tape, strap her down to the bed, put on some bluegrass music, stick your dick down her throat and hold on for an "8-second ride." Either way, your ploy worked. There is now a woman on the end of your dick.
Of course, she'll think at this point that merely dabbing at it with her little pink tongue will make you give her your checkbook. We know better, don't we?
Part 2: GETTING SOME TONSIL-TRACTION
You say; "I'd like to make you more comfortable," get up and move her so that she's lying on her back with her head hanging over the side of the bed. This gives you a straight shot down the throat and into the tummy-tunnel.
Tell her; "some guy on the internet said this is how the Queen does it!!" and start moving your dick further and further into her mouth. Now she's going to be using muscles she wasn't aware of, so remember to give her lots of breaks. After a certain point you're going to be risking her doing a Jimi Hendrix on you, if you can't get your dick out of the way of her internal contents, and she suffocates on her own spew and/or your dork.
Keep talking. This reinforces the security and comfort she needs. You've already got your schlong in her mouth, so your job is just about over. Now all you have to do is get her to want to test herself, to experiment.
You'll reach a point where you must work together. Let her do the work. You'll feel it begin to happen, where it's just like fucking, only the stakes are different. (Unless you don't bathe, fucking will rarely produce a puddle of barf on your lap.)
You are now in charge. From here on out, provided you followed these instructions carefully, you should be able to get a "gobbler" off her anytime you want, and occasionally go for olympic gold in the tongue-vault.
Best of luck,
Peter_Torque
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PT: There's a very good chance that was read many times by sailors. I hope so. Even more important, I hope some sailor boy on shoreleave swabbed the gullet of a prostitute with his manly projection, who's rate skyrocketed after she found out she could swallow a python.
It's a win-win situation. Troops got supported, somebody learned something, somebody laughed, no harm done. Please bear in mind PT's groundless accusations and chafing at censorship in the original.
Given the era it was posted in and the ramifistations of taste and decorum therein proclaimed by the emporer. As we shall show, by that time PT knew exactly who he was calling a fuckface, and did attempt to deny that he knew what fuckface he was talking about rather than identifying said fuckface by name, either because of common courtesy or because he couldn't get himself to call said fuckface "mister."
I got a bunch of points, even though I'd only been here a few weeks.
Judge: I don't see what bearing this has on PT's case.
PT: You will. And how.
Judge: The jury is to sequester themselves in #wota for the remainder of this thread. Since this is a legal proceding please leave this thread at once, in order that it may be read in the future without wading through a bunch of crap that should have been in #wota in the first place.
PT: I mean it. If a single post appears after this one, you will never know the results of the trial. That's what I ask in return for my testimony against Peter_Torque; immunity.
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Last edited by Peter_Torque on 05-11-2003 at 04:08 PM
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05-11-2003 04:03 PM
