michael antony
Forum Regular
- Joined
- Dec 23, 2011
- Messages
- 334
- Location
- wash dc
a shooting scenario: "Pool Party"
gang murder, multiple shooting, machine pistols
(setup for extensive rough body handling, necro)
The tall, slim-hipped dude is me; "Reno" is from badpuppy.com, "Todd", "Carlos" and other corpse photos are from CDG.
Dave Darko (aka Dark Fader) and I have been having a wonderful time sharing our murder fantasies in email. Shame he lives so far away, he's such a perfect match for me -- intensely aroused by the Mexican and Brazilian gang murder photos on CDG, as am I; both of us sharing the same intense gun murder necro fantasies. Dave loves plugging lean, tight bitches like me, and I love eating lead.
This is a quick little scene I shared with him recently...
At Max's cozy little villa down the coast, where he keeps me stashed to "entertain" his friends while he's in Puerto Vallarta, I'm partying furiously with my cheap-meat boifriends -- Todd, a guileless, blue-eyed blonde; Reno, a buff European brunette; and Carlos, a lanky, tight Brazilian boy, one of the other dancers from Max's club.
You and Javier pause just inside the front door and spend a few moments looking through to the patio by the pool, your cocks swelling in anticipation as you watch us playing with each other in various states of undress -- Reno in a ripped-out sweatshirt and lycra shorts; Todd in some sweet, tight cutoff jeans and blue thong panties; Carlos, shirtless with his loose, baggy jeans undone and sliding down around his hips; and me, in only a tight, ripped, cropped light blue t-shirt, my plump cock and heavy, low-slung balls bouncing and swaying as I moved.
Javier keeps out of sight as you stride casually onto the patio and catch our attention. I suspect nothing; I see only my favorite stud, my partner in crime paying me a visit. I greet you warmly, sliding my arms around your hips and kissing you deeply. I introduce you around to my equally-unsuspecting boifriends as my friend, Dave. I brag about how you and I pulled off those skim jobs on Max, as I look into your eyes and smile slyly, lightly brushing your lips with my tongue.
You coldly announce that this isn't a social call. My expression darkens. My boifriends pause in their play, looking vaguely worried. You inform me that Max wouldn't be very pleased to know who's responsible for all that coke and cash disappearing unaccountably...
"Why should we care what Max thinks?" I ask, diffidently.
You take a few steps back. "Because Max is paying me..."
Javier steps into view on the patio, his MP9 drawn. You quickly pull the Skorpion from under your jacket. Our eyes widen in stupid shock.
Todd, Reno, Carlos and I try to scatter and run for it, but none of us gets more than a couple of steps before we feel the hot sting of your 9mm's pounding our flesh. The air suddenly explodes with the sounds of full-auto fire cracking, men grunting and moaning, wet oiled bodies thudding against the stone deck around the pool.
In mere seconds, the job is done, and silence settles in. The patio at poolside is littered with freshly-killed meat, our bullet-cratered torsos bleeding out onto the patio stones. You and Javier advance slowly to the poolside to check over the kills, nudging, prodding, kicking our soft, limp corpses.
From the neighboring villas 70, 80 yards away, the neighbors enjoy the action discreetly from patios and balconies.
On a neighboring balcony overlooking our pool, a retired executive from Mexico City recognizes me as that banging hot slut who gave him all those nude lap dances at the club, and slides his hand inside his trunks, gently massaging his quickly-thickening cock as he watches you and Javier manhandling our tight, sleek, still-warm corpses -- rolling them, dragging them by the ankles like meat towards the center of the patio, laying them out together, stripping them, hosing off the blood to reveal your 9mm's work. He moans softly, blowing his wad into his trunks as he watches you and Javier photographing our glistening carcasses...
