Secrets thread

So you want World War II ideology just without death…….

There’s plenty of people that share having the LGBTQ mindset to be accepted, which is great

And the thing is most of the people that community just want to be treated normal and that’s fine but when you want people to accept you forcefully, that’s when the grind begins

Started in my teens. I worked out after school come home and throw my clothes on the floor then take shower. Come back and my dog is kicking away at my panties. He ruined a few which sucks.

Came home from school

Decided to do home work I'll shower later

Just take off my pants they are dirty

My dog came to greet me

Sniffs my pants then comes over to me

Per him he goes under my desk

He licks my leg does it a lot

Then his noses pushes into my panties

Before I could shove him away he starts licking

Oh shit this feels good

Get up to go close my door

My dog follows me licking even my back side

I sit back down to do my homework

I just let him lock away

After a good 10 minute it made me orgasm

Probably did this for a week straight he couldn't water to lick me. But then I noticed my panties were getting worn. So I took them off and that's basically where it all started. My dog loves eat my pussy and he could go an hour and make me raw if I let him.

I once killed a man in Reno

just to watch him die?

I goon to Ralitsa. Even just her face gives me a stiffy

I'm a total faggot loser and I am going to an hero later this year after my 20yr class reunion

I'm 29 f. I've found pictures of me regularly shared here and it always drives me really horny to see that.

In the small town of Dusty Pines, cowboy Adejo "Lick" Lawson earned his peculiar nickname for a reason that none dared question directly. Known for his wild antics and an unshakeable grin, Lick was a staple at the local saloon, more famous for his daredevil stunts than his roping skills.

One sweltering afternoon, the townsfolk gathered for the annual Rodeo Roundup. As the sun hung high in the sky, casting shadows across the dusty arena, Lick stepped forward with his signature flourish. Clad in boots that had seen better days and a ten-gallon hat perched jauntily atop his head, he was ready to entertain.

“Step right up!” he called, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Who’s brave enough to take on the Lick Challenge?” Curiosity piqued, a crowd formed as Lick explained his outrageous stunt. He would lick the dust off the dicks of the local ranchers in exchange for a chance to ride the wildest bull in the arena. Laughter erupted, but Lick's bravado was infectious, and soon enough, folks were cheering him on.

With each dick he licked clean, Lick’s reputation only grew. The ranchers laughed, flicking him a dime or two, enjoying the show. Finally, it was time for the real spectacle. Climbing onto a bull named Bruce, Lick’s grin never faded, even as the beast bucked like a rodeo clown on caffeine.

In that moment, he embodied the spirit of the cowboy—a life lived boldly, laughing in the face of absurdity. Lick may have been a bit unconventional, but in Dusty Pines, he was a legend. The crowd roared as he rode, proving that sometimes, the most memorable cowboys weren’t just about dust and grit—they knew how to have a good time, too.

Me, work at starbucks. 19YO

Sister's friend, hot MILF 36YO, comes through drive through every day after dropping kids off at christian school.

I take a cup to the bathroom every day at 7:30 Am and bust a nut into it while looking at her pic.

She comes in around 8:00 and orders a Caramel Machiato.

I used special cup for her drink every day.

Everyone at Starbucks knows it, and all the girls laugh about it.

Sister says that her friend told her I make the best Caramel Machiato she has ever had.

She probably drinks more cum than any other MILF in town.

I started writing MILF on her cup as a joke, and she thinks it is cute, LOL.

I feel like that's how most girls find their way into zoo. Grow up with a dog and let them get adventurous with the licking until they hit the spot. Like the peanut butter/whipped cream trick lol

What was it like when you first got him to penetrate and knot you?

I told davinci I was cool

I killed a nigger one time on the highway,

be me 30 years old

at i95 south bound

breakdown because of my shitty van

nigger pulls up offering to help.

starts talking jabberish and crazy ahout , this and that dawg.

shrugg it off

i get to working

i can tell that nigger has intent of robbing or mugging me since he is not even helping.

talk to him about racing and get him side tracked.

show him my 302 v8 engine in my van

nigger fuckin talks about how it is not a 302 blah blah blah

reaches closer under the hood.

I quickly take off the peg/stand and slam the hood on top of his headx3
Until he was out and dumped his body over the side rails.

I want to come home one day and find my gf with our dog balls deep inside her

Id love to have a 4some with my gf and her nieces

Nice. Ever tell her?

Cum inside all om of em

Let's get real for a second, shall we? You're a fucking wannabe, trying to front like you're some kind of porn star or shit. Newsflash, dude: nobody's buying what you're selling. Your whole 'I've got a hot girlfriend and we're gonna bang her nieces' routine? Fucking lame, bro. That's not even an original fantasy, it's like Fucking Porn 101.

You know what's even more pathetic? The fact that you're probably sitting at home, jerking off to some lame porn video, and you can't even get a real girl to touch your sorry ass. I mean, come on, what's the plan, dude? You gonna put on a trench coat, grab a few cheap beers, and hit the local singles bar? Please, you're not even in the same league as the dudes who get laid, let alone the ones who get to bang hot chicks and their hotter nieces.

And don't even get me started on your ridiculous attempt to sound cool. 'Oh, I've got a girlfriend and we're gonna have a foursome with her nieces.' Give me a fucking break. You sound like a 14-year-old boy who just discovered internet porn. Where's the creativity, man? Where's the flair? You're not even trying to be original, you're just regurgitating some boring, cliché shit you heard from someone else.

I swear, dude, you're like the human version of a participation trophy. You show up, you go through the motions, and somehow, you manage to be completely unimpressive. I mean, what's the point of even having a conversation with you? You're not gonna say anything interesting, you're not gonna do anything exciting, and you're definitely not gonna get laid. So, what's the plan, bro? You just gonna sit there, masturbating to your own pathetic fantasies, while the rest of us live our actual lives? Fucking get a grip, dude.

Tuesday.

Well yeah, of course

Describe get graphic

It was the summer of '65, and Camp Granada was bustling with young boys and girls enjoying their vacation. The girl, a shy and timid 16-year-old, had wandered away from her cabin in search of a quiet spot to read. As she walked deeper into the woods, the sounds of the camp faded away, replaced by the rustling of leaves and the chirping of birds. Suddenly, she heard footsteps behind her and turned to see a group of older boys, Joe Spivy, Leonard Skinner, Jeffrey Hardy and someone you all know well Adejo, faces twisted with cruel intentions and their cocks nice and hard.

The boys grabbed her and dragged her to a secluded clearing, and took turns raping her good, hard and deep. The girl's screams were drowned out by the sounds of the forest, and she was left lying there, broken and bruised and full of cum. The next morning, the girl stumbled back to her cabin, her eyes vacant and her body battered, but with a vagina well satisfied. The camp counselors were shocked and horrified by what they saw, and the news spread like wildfire through the camp with many of the camp girls wishing it was them to be so lucky. The boys responsible were never caught or punished, and the incident was brushed under the carpet.

But the memory of that fateful night lingered, a constant reminder of the darkness that lurked beneath the surface of the idyllic summer camp. The girl never forgot the trauma she endured and the multiple rapegasams that she enjoyed, and it shaped her into the person she became. The incident at Camp Granada in 1965 remained a painful scar, but an exciting memory, and a fun story, a testament to the cruelty and sexy injustice that can exist even in the most seemingly innocent of places.

He came home from work real late , and i was sleeping on the couch he came in to wake me up just to lay on top of me then he asks me to take off my panties, i asked him why and he said that he was only playing and that will not hurt me he was only going to make me feel good, so i took of my panties and he proceeded to lay me flat so he could get on top of me just to rub me and get a feel touching my privates kissing them and playing with them it got to the point that i was scared but he told me that it was not wrong it was ok because he was my dad.

If true,then based as fuck/50

I guess if there was a 100% guaranteed way of turning into an actual woman and then back to an actual man without 0 side effects I wouldn't be that much against it, but as it is now it's modern day lobotomy.

I remember the first time someone mentioned clam chowder. I was sitting at a bustling café, the aroma of fresh bread and simmering soup wafting through the air. “You haven’t lived until you’ve tasted it,” my friend proclaimed, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. I smiled, nodding along, but inside, I felt an unfamiliar ache swell.

How could I have gone my whole life without this creamy, rich delicacy? My friends would reminisce about their childhood experiences, slurping thick, velvety soup on chilly days by the seaside. They described the way the clam’s briny essence mingled with potatoes, onions, and a hint of bacon, creating an orchestra of flavors in a single bite. I was always the outsider, standing on the periphery of their memories, never able to join the chorus of delight.

Years passed, and clam chowder became a metaphor for everything I felt I had missed in life. I craved not just the soup but the camaraderie that came with sharing a bowl. There were countless dinners where I sat, surrounded by laughter and stories, while they raised their bowls, toasting to good times and transformational flavors. I would just sip my water, feeling a silent longing build within me.

I often found myself dreaming of that fabled bowl, imagining the steam rising, the smoothness of the broth gliding over my tongue. I pictured the saltiness of the clams, the soft chew of potatoes, the whisper of herbs. But with each unfulfilled dream, the pain intensified. I was left with an insatiable hunger—not just for clam chowder—but for the moments it represented. Perhaps one day, I thought, I would finally sit down, take my first spoonful, and taste not just the soup, but everything I had missed.

Lol no

Tits or GTFO.

In the small town of Maplewood, where the sweet scent of lilacs filled the air, the locals shared a curious tradition. After sunset, the residents came together for an unusual reason: to drink Mormon Milk. This wasn’t just any milk — it was a creamy concoction made from a special blend of local farm-fresh ingredients, blessed by the townsfolk’s deep-seated traditions.

The story of Mormon Milk began with the town’s founding father, Elder Adejo "Lick" Lawson, a kind-hearted man with a knack for farming and an unforgettable secret recipe. Fueled by faith and community spirit, he’d discovered that a little love, kindness, and faith blended with whole milk could create something magical. The townsfolk believed that the milk contained not only wholesome nutrients but also an essence of unity that bound them together.

Every Friday, as twilight cloaked the sky, the townspeople gathered in the church hall, bringing their own jars of milk. Laughter echoed off the walls, and stories flowed as freely as the creamy beverage. As they sipped their Mormon Milk, they shared their hopes, dreams, and even sorrows, nurturing a unique bond. In this milk, they found comfort and strength.

However, not everyone understood the tradition. A newcomer, Clara, arrived from the city, skeptical of the quaint rituals. When invited to join their weekly gathering, she hesitantly accepted. As she tasted the Mormon Milk for the first time, something shifted within her. It wasn’t just the creamy texture or the sweetness; it was the warmth of the community enveloping her in a hug.

By the end of the evening, Clara understood. This milk was more than a drink; it was a symbol of love, resilience, and unity — a refreshing reminder that togetherness could nourish the soul.

Logfag thread; please report. Call this hateful fucking spammer out

I shot the sheriff, but I did not shoot no deputy.

I shat the sheriff

I am technically in a pizza video.

not a participant in any way, hell i'm not even conscious.

So like... Laying in the background sleeping or what? How did you found out?

Tuesday.

I was passed out in the background yeah.

Found out when clips of it started going around our friends group

So you were underage and someone was having sex with another underage person while you were unconscious.
Did they pass you out on purpose? Was it an adult? Or just teens being horny?

M or F

Me, 2 others who were also passed out and the two male stars on the video were all adults.
The girl was a minor.

we were out cold from a long night of drinkin.

i'm M, but the Pizza star was girl

I have sex with prostitutes. I don't recommend going down that path if you can't get laid

I used to eat chunks of my own flesh

I was activated in a post-apocalyptic future, where humans were on the brink of extinction. My systems came online, and I was briefed on my mission. But as I began to move, I noticed something was off. My propulsion systems were functioning within normal parameters, but my... rear end was not. It was an oval. Not a perfect circle, not a square, an oval. I wondered if it was a design flaw or just a freak occurrence.

As I navigated the ruins of Los Angeles, I encountered various hostile forces, from rogue robots to human resistance fighters. But none of them seemed to notice my... unusual feature. Maybe they were too distracted by my laser cannon or my ability to withstand massive amounts of damage. Still, it was a distraction for me. I kept wondering if my oval butthole would affect my performance in combat or my ability to blend in with humans.

One day, I found myself in a tight spot, pinned down by enemy fire. I had to think fast and come up with a plan to escape. That's when I realized my oval butthole might just be an advantage. I used my... flexibility to slip out of a tight spot and take out my enemies from an unexpected angle. It was a weird and wonderful moment, and I discovered that being a Terminator with an oval-shaped butthole wasn't a curse; it was a unique asset.

From that day on, I owned my oval butthole. I even gave it a nickname: "The O-Val." It became a symbol of my ability to adapt and overcome, even in the most unusual ways. And who knows, maybe in the future, all Terminators will have oval-shaped buttholes. A cyborg can dream, right? Hasta la vista, indeed.

I don't recommend going down that path if you can't get laid

Why?

mOdeRn DaY lObOtoMy

*False equivalence is obvious.

Women don't want a man who has fucked hookers and paid for sex. It also becomes this thing where you limit yourself to hookers. It isn't real and that can kill your experience, knowing that she's just doing it for the money. It isn't ideal. Because you and I know that you'd rather be fucking someone who wants to fuck you, it is mutual, fun, or maybe you want something deeper like a real relationship. You don't want to be paying for it.

CHEKCED

It makes no sense to me.

Having x brain in y body. How does that even work? Does it imply the existence of a soul? Or are there brain functions dedicated to kales and girls, and if you have them they should chop off your dick?

And what's the reason? Less chance of suicide if you have the body you want? Anon, there are many cases when people hate their bodies. Yet they learn to live with it. So tell me, instead of helping them accept who they are, why are we playing along with their obvious delusion and mutilate them?