A medieval meetIng
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He doth be twitching to ram his trusty staff up ye olde quivering mudflap of Sir Troll.The victim transfixed upon said lance would invite great belching laughs and swilling of Dutch Gold mead.Turns would be taken from such noble knights to elicit squeals from The troll's drawn lips but be greeted by pitiful moans that would only incense the knights. An erstwhile knave would save the day by practicing new turns on such a trick as Sir Troll.The report of released bowels would only still such knights from their playful jousting until one noticed spillage upon one's trainer thus enraging the victim to splice the victims asshole wide open. Enter carrion birds to pick at the still moving form with the grimace etched on its pallid face.
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Thou truly art a poet, such vivid descriptions paint a scene of such beauty that the true and honest can only dream of seeing. The end of all trolls.
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Hyena wrote:
Lol. These most honourable of knights will be kept questing me thinkest friend Hyena.Thou truly art a poet, such vivid descriptions paint a scene of such beauty that the true and honest can only dream of seeing. The end of all trolls.
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Vish, sometimes I have to concentrate more on your posts than I do on messrine's... And that's saying something lol
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vishbume wrote:
Thou doth speakest truly. But is not art in all it's forms but a way to show our fantasies of a future nirvana?Hyena wrote:
Lol. These most honourable of knights will be kept questing me thinkest friend Hyena.Thou truly art a poet, such vivid descriptions paint a scene of such beauty that the true and honest can only dream of seeing. The end of all trolls.
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The sweet faecal perfume of caked shit that rose from the the beast's haunches caused much consternation to the questers.
"That thing doth had toucheth cloth for the last time",spoketh the rabble knight dressed in quasi period dress with a pair of $20 sneakers.He appraised the slurry that dripped from his knobeth and shook a fist at the bridge,"I'll fuck ye upeth and be home supping on cocks before nightfall yez c*nts". -
😳 Only you vishbume.... Only you.... *shudder*
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Mr Big Cat wrote:
Always good to hear from Mr Big Cat. I stumbled across this merry troupe today and was much impressed by their camaraderie before they had consumed much Dutch Gold and Linden Village cider.Vish, sometimes I have to concentrate more on your posts than I do on messrine's... And that's saying something lol
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I had a notebook on me and jotted down some of gangs heart warming tales.......
The sound of blissful consumption as one troll ,dressed in a gimp suit, feeds purposefully on its bud's bean bag with the odd cheeky thumb dip up the anus and stuff...
....the bud's eyes would be going in and out of focus,rolling and crossing with the delight and disgust of it all but without the fight in its body to turn away from the slurper's maw.
It would be sick indeed to look down into those beady eyes as they ,in turn, gaze into your eyes while it feasted. That image would long haunt you long after you fash a rock into its rotten greasy head......
It wasn't clear to me at this stage if the knights' themselves had enjoyed such fare or merely spied it from some copse.I decided not to ask too many questions but let the revellers continue to recount such happy tales. -
They had hurled a troll's head into a betting office where it was set upon by both the lucky and least fortunate of gamblers. They proceeded to encircle the foul thing and play soggy biscuit. The pouting and grimacing of the head was lost under layers of webbing.
Some wondering vagrant stumbled upon the body after a bout of spewing chunks and proceeded to make merry. After much gyrations,turns and twisting, the gent tired of his sport and his moaning gave way to invectives, spitting and much phlegm for the pud was unreceptive to his proboscis. Undeterred, he sought out the head to bleed his sticky palp.
... Much fun was had by all needless to say. -
"Trolls don't go wrenching, they go tranching", vouched one of the knacker knights as he harvested snots and examined the yield. "Fookin Trannies", he kindly explained in answer to my bepuzzled look.
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Them I noted the knight's gruesome headdress fashioned from some unlucky troll's cranium. A garb, no doubt, to belittle visiting ambassadors. Its face in a rictus and I blinked for its eyes seemed to twinkle abd wink lewdly yet at some private joke as It's brain pan sat in some sweet jar suspended from the kitchen ceiling .
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Darkened wet patches blossomed from some squire's pantaloons as he unveiled a small troll.It slavered and gnashed in heady hope of rending an asshole or two.Chomping and sucking with short intakes of breath in dizzy anticipation of its foul fantasies, it was expunged with a rattling of its egg sac.Here was its Achilles heel I late learnt.
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I was looking for some cocktail sticks when, whoaa!, what should fall out and bounce off the table?A blast from the past.
It was a troll¨s head,its stretched face a rictus of surprise and pain. Made me think how times have changed,as I scewered its dried out eyes. -
Licking the ketchup off his fingers he appraised his handiwork. A critical eye noted and suggested improvements.The knight was much pleased.Englebert, the dwarf, positioned his heavy head between the victim's legs;his breathing promising delights and wicked pleasures.A long pole was then lain atop his crown and slid up and the crotch into the tender soft parts of the victims.Tge knight tested the strength of the pole was applying pressure with his left foot.... A sigh from the victim's mouth. Not at all satisfied, the noble knight barked at the dwarf to squirm a little closer. This was done willingly and with great smacking of lips.
The knight placed his entire weight upon the stick with the dual reaction of pressing the dwarf's head into the crotch and sending the pole up into the crevice. The victim's pleading sent the knight into a frenzy and only stopped after the Engelbert's pulpy head could not support the pole's weight. -
Happy with the proceedings, the knight left without a backward glance to work at the town bank for he was 5 minutes late already!
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Crowing in delight,Englebert lifted his now badly mashed head and thought himself lucky indeed to be friends with the mysterious knight with the converse sneakers.
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Back in the town, under the shade of the immense Castle Rott, Engelbert made his way home.He paused briefly by the blacksmith's house to steal a glance at said's young daughter abd luck would have it that she was in the shower.But,much to his frustration, the minx's Granmother was sponging the girl down and blocked the view near completely.Engelbert's imagination lacked the skill to fill in the gaps and so enraged was he, that he took to voiding on their doorstep; thus with the dual purpose of marking his territory and releasing vective.
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He then cast some rotten fruit at some heads in the stocks,pilfered some candy from a sleeping man's pockets who was beaming all the while, spat into a beggars face entranced by the hockler's slow migration down the dead man's face,stroked himself to the beat of pipes in the main square and was in bed by 8 where his Mammy read him a bedtime story.
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The knight cut a dash.Pure strength emanated from him. His movements were supple and armour a gun-metal grey. His voice was such that trolls gladly exposed their necks to his mighty sword.Great arms knotted with muscle gripped it. A solitary red plume sprouted from his helm like a tongue of fire and bedazzled the ladies.His shield was emblazoned with a sun set over a corn field.His steed a highly disciplined fighting machine.
The whole image was rather discoloured on the lifting of his visor due to having a nose much like a wet pulpy bulbous nose that resembled the male member which hung flaccidly over his flappy vagina like lips. -
An overwhelming sense of despair fills my belly. Now giving ponderous thought as to how one may have overlooked such tales of humanity.
A fine read indeed squire. I eagerly await regular updates to the Knights tale. 👍😄🙏
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⚜Ꮶ͜иιɢн͡т⚜ wrote:
Ha! Humanity at its finest and most fragile.Where noble deeds,love trysts and jousting reign supreme.A quest,if you will,for spirituality.These lordly knights would in a thrice fill a belly or two all the while in search of their grail.An overwhelming sense of despair fills my belly. Now giving ponderous thought as to how one may have overlooked such tales of humanity.
A fine read indeed squire. I eagerly await regular updates to the Knights tale. 👍😄🙏
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