Orange Hair At Work

All things are done while seated on the Porcelain Throne. Orange Hair enters the Throne Room of marble, crystal chandeliers, and gold faucets. He passes the waiting bath and personal servant, his most important servant, for he has Trump's highest seal of approval, the Swastika of America. No one can wear this medal but those of pure Aryan blood that are raised to serve The Alpha. Dummkoph removed his own testicles once Orange Hair placed the medal around his neck. Picked up a knife right in front of Orange Hair and sliced them off clean. He then placed a hot iron on the wound to cauterize and seal the flesh. All of this without a flinch. Orange Hair was so proud and handed Dummkoph the golden bottle of hair dye that Dummkoph alone would use to keep Orange Hair's coiffure as orange as orange can be.

Dummkoph raised his arm in salute and clicked his steel boots as Orange Hair proceeded to the throne. His very personal servant's second most valuable service was to gather the turds and all deposits made while Orange Hair sat on the throne to feed his believers. Orange Hair would soon be tweeting and farting and Dummkoph sat posed to grab the turds has they floated by. What an honor, he thought, of all those he alone was privileged with this task.

We do not believe in Orange Hair or his fake presidency nor anything he says or does for he is a known charlatan and liar who stole the election and is hated by most and feared by the rest. We do not fear him or eat his shit that others who worship him crave. We are free and American, every woman, man, Hispanic, Asian, Muslim, Gay who despises Orange Hair and would like to set his tower of power, his precious throne room, and him--on fire.

It is our fight that we will take to the Tower of Power itself. We are planning a great war before Orange Hair can proceed on the siege of our beloved city, Los Angeles, City of Angels. We will attack before he is installed and allowed to move his throne room to the White House where he wants it installed so that congress and the senate can grovel while he tweets. 

To Russia With Love

Orange Hair snugly fits in his web of deception. His ties to Puss Stain and the fortune of slaves and power promised to Orange Hair by Puss Stain is all consuming. Orange Hair must sit on his porcelain throne to tweet and twitter to Puss Stain of how much he admires him and his ability to take any enemy, torture them, kill them and enslave. He kisses a portrait of Puss Stain sent to him by the Supreme Leader of the USSR. As his lips brush the cheek of Puss Stain, Orange Hair stares at the red star that blazes above the portrait. Orange Hair thinks it is the most beautiful of all stars.

But trouble is brewing, the press has hold of documents sequestered by Russia that shows Orange Hair's involvement in trickery and deception, a leash to tug on Orange Hair should he ever try to stray. Orange Hair is worried and relies on his minions to raise a fog of deception and lies to shake off those on his trail of trickery and treason.

Should Orange Hair succeed, Puss Stain will be pleased with the lessons Orange Hair has learned from his Russian keeper, he might even award him some medal for Orange Hair's treason if he brings Russia's goal of global power. Orange Hair is a convenient and stupid footstool for Puss Stain and he often thought what it would be like to use Orange Hair for that very purpose. Tied beneath the feet of Russia, America as Russia's footstool.

These latest developments on the developing siege of Los Angeles to press Los Angeles into giving homage to Orange Hair or die are critical to our survival. For if Orange Hair succeeds in hiding the truth and America doesn't wake from its stupor of fed lies and shit from the porcelain throne of Orange Hair, then we are doomed.

More info as developments occur.

The Rescue of Prisoners from Orange Hair's Tower of Power

We had electronic devises that fooled  the security of Orange Hair's tower and secreted ourselves into the building in the early morning. We knew from the smell of foul gas that Orange Hair was seated on his porcelain throne twittering his tweets as he made meals of his waste to feed his followers. As we found our way to the dungeons the smell of Orange Hair's sentries eating the foul waste of Orange Hair was overpowering. Fortunately we brought gas masks and quickly put them on.

It was a bit of luck for us to hit at this opportune moment for the guards were in a stupor with the brown sludge from Orange Hair's intestines smeared on the guards mouth as they munched on the fetid cake of waste. We tried not to look least we lose the contents of our stomachs at such a horrible sight of the guards in their feast of shit as we snuck pass them and to the holding cells of the prisoners.

There we found the young women stripped of clothing and chained in front of the machine designed to torture them relentlessly. When they saw us, they became terrified at first thinking we were going to hurt them. But soon their fears turned to joy when we used our devices to release them from bondage and secured their way from Orange Hair's tower.

It wasn't until later that day that we heard the screams picked up from the devices planted in the tower to spy on Orange Hair and his evil minions when Orange Hair discovered our trickery and his guards stupidity. For Orange Hair turned his squeezing and pinching torture machines on his own guards, their genitals swollen and deformed as the machines fondled them unrelenting pulling and squeezing their penises and testicles. They met their deaths at the hands of their owner and good riddance to them. 

Orange Hair Attacks One of Our Own

It was ugly but that is what war is all about. Meryl Streep stood to defend a handicapped man from the viciousness of Puss Stain's prodigy, Orange Hair. She stood against him and all that he stands for, and for her  bravery she is now under siege by the evil legions of Orange Hair. Streep's brave heart withstood the attacks but in his rage to beat down anyone who opposes him he has taken hostages to learn the ways of torture shown to him by Puss Stain.

Three young women are now in the hands of Orange Hair. Delivered to him because they sought abortions from incestuous rape. Orange Hair wants all women punished, no matter the circumstance, if they had or seek an abortion. He feels they are worthless creatures fit only for his demented pleasure.  They are now deep in the bowels of his tower chained while they wait the cruelty Orange Hair himself will administer on them. 

We are mounting a rescue, if it is not too late, to save the women from the cruel fate that Orange Hair plans to cause. He has devised a heinous apparatus that grabs a woman's genitalia squeezing  and pulling constantly on the tender flesh until they are driven mad or die. He relishes his machine forged in Russia with a promise of more to come by Puss Stain himself.  

It is tonight that our forces will try and penetrate the Tower. We are armed and at the ready with devices to secret ourselves inside the Tower's wall and, with the help of all good people, rescue the young women before his cruelty is unleashed. 

At the moment, Orange Hair is sitting on his porcelain throne throwing tweets.  He twitters and tweets while seated in the early morning as he empty his bowels of foul fetid waste to feed his minions who crave more and more of his colonic passings.

It is then that we shall attack. When he is the most vulnerable, his withered penis and testicles dangling near the sewage of his making, his drawers about his ankles and his hands busy with mischief. We will charge giving him no time to plan. The battle begins.

More as new developments occur.
 

Orange Hair Loves All Things Russian

Ruthless men covet power and Orange Hair craves to control all of us. This greed of riches and  power drove him to forge an alliance with America's Archenemy, Russia.  Now all of us, by the cunning of two evils, are at risk of losing our freedom and very lives in our fight to keep America free of Despots.

Puss Stain told Orange Hair how he perfected the art of torture. To bend a human's will to do and say what you want making them mindless slaves if given enough pain and mental anguish. Orange Hair admires Puss Stain for his ability to torture and enslave. To bend the minds of men.

But we of The City Of Angeles who voiced our veto of this cunning devil in overwhelming numbers now stand together to fight the Beast. We renounce Orange Hair and all his cunning minions who do his will.

The Battle Begins.

We are set in place. Los Angeles is forged from the melting pot of humanity that come here from all over the globe. We've learned that all of us are of one specie that loves peace and harmony for in a megalopolis we need to tolerate one another or live in chaos. We defied Orange Hair and now he has turned his naked eye in our direction as an impediment to his desires. We are ready.

Orange Hair is gathering an army of Rats and Demons. He is perfecting them in the art of cunning and  deceit to sow seeds of discourse among us but we are at the ready, waiting for the the filth he will launch at our great city. Puss Stain whispers in Orange Hair's ear of the women in Los Angeles he can molest and use as he wish with nothing to stop him once Orange Hair has absolute power as Puss Stain has of Russia.

Los Angleans and all others who fear Puss Stain and Orange Hair unite with us in our fight for freedom's gold. The riches of  peace among men and goodwill to all. Stand and fight now or face everlasting misery as the slaves Orange Hair and Puss Stain.

More news of the events to follow as time from the battle allows.

Penelope's Peculiarities, Last Tale. Muhammad Meets His Fate.

That was some party we had in Spain. Thanks to Lump, but he's dead and broke anyway so I went with Tallulah to Dubai for a little shopping with what was left of Lump's money. After I finished maxing the credit cards Lump had, and bringing back to our hotel room loads of high end merchandise, Tallulah got a call that a party was being hosted by a Saudi Prince. Well, we just had to go.

The party was fabulous with plenty of champagne that me and Tallulah went through by the case. And lots of men. Wealthy men in fact, so wealthy that they seemed a bit bored with it all, so I thought I'd change that.

I found a stone seat in a palace garden where waters played from a fountain next to me. There in the warm night with a full moon I opened my legs to spread the petals of my divine pussy and release a scent men cannot resist.

Like bees to honey the men came walking by offering glasses of wine and cigarettes on holders of gold and ivory. I waited until I found the one I was looking for, the one that couldn't keep his eyes off the prize. Got ya sucker. It's so easy sometimes, the enticement, and I really enjoy a bit of fight in them but most just obey the pussy. Then again, once in a while you get a fighter, oh that's fun,  a bit of cat and mouse.

He was a man wearing all the traditional garb of Saudi royalty and came up to me to say,"I see you're quite attractive. My name is Muhammad."

He did a sort of bow, I liked that, shows respect. "Well Muhammad, mine is Penelope. Nice party."

"I'm glad you like it. Would you like to take a walk in the garden?"

"Sure," with that I took his offered hand and stood before I walked with him to a secluded area. I did notice men is suits ushering the other suitors back to the ballroom.

He grabbed my arms suddenly and began to force himself on me. I pushed him away and raised my hand. "Wait a sec Muhammad, you're getting a little pushy aren't you."

"I know women like you enjoy that sort of thing. I'm I right?"

"No, you're not right. I like to have a little fun first. Let's play a game, a kind of hide and seek game. Wouldn't that be fun?"

"I'm not into games, but I will play."

"I think you'll like it. Now sit here and I'm going to walk over to that fountain to sit. I want you to watch me. Okay?"

"Sure, sure. If it makes you happy."

"Oh, it will make me happy alright." With that I pressed down on his shoulders until he sat. Then walked to the fountain where the moonlight fell on the waters. There I spread my thighs, and gave him a good gander of the wares, I could see an effect on him taking place. That's when I went a step further and spread the lips of my cunt open so that the air would carry the heady aroma of pussy juice to him.

As he stared, becoming more mesmerized by the second, it was clear I had good control of him. "Would you like to come over and have a taste of my delights?"

"Yes, my love," he said with drool that dripped from his bearded mouth.

I watched him walk over with his eyes fixated on the beaver until he was next to me. That's when I spread my legs further, and the prince dropped to his knees and began to feast.  I gave him all he wanted, besides the beard felt kind of good.

After I checked my makeup and messages I had enough of the beard. "Hey there prince, Don't you think you should come up for air?"

He was locked in, I had given him too much pussy juice and now I had to get a little forceful. With a snap my thighs shut like a canal lock, which pulled on his beard. "Hey," he said pulling his head away and leaving a good chunk of beard clutched in my legs.

He was rubbing his chin where the hair pulled out. "Look, when I tell you to stop. You stop."

"I'm going to put you in my harem, my love and feast all I want. "Guards!"

These thugs came from nowhere and grabbed me. "Take her to the palace and place her under the head eunuch. I want her washed and ready when I come.

Before I knew what the hell was happening these goons grabbed me, tossed me in a limo and off I went to his palace. Inside it was quite nice, except this goofy guy with a high pitched voice and penchant for makeup was measuring and touching me until I was about to turn on him something wicked. Just then he asked me to pick out what silks I'd like for my wardrobe. They were top quality too and now I had a whole new wardrobe. But it didn't quite sink in until I was introduced to the other gals. His harem. All of them raving lesbians. That's just great, a party with a bunch of bitches and a ball-less dude in drag. Still, the new clothes, and I love the style, were made to party.

"Look girls, I really need a drink, where the fuck do you keep the booze?"

A surly looking bitch with long fingernails came over and touched my lips. "We do not drink alcohol. We are Muslim and so will you be very soon."

"Like hell I will. I'm a full blooded American witch you fucking sand crab. And I'm staying that way."

"You can't resist. The guards will soon be here. They will take you to the Imam, and if you do not accept Islam, you're pretty head will come off."

I sat down and allowed a tear to fall from my eye. When I had her attention I raised my robe to wipe the tear and exposed my witchy pussy. She couldn't keep her eyes off. So, I asked her to hold me until the guards came. She went for my breasts, breathing in their scent and my hands pressed firmly but gently on her head until she could feel the warm breath of my cunt. It didn't take long for that carpet muncher to start munching. Soon the other girls came around with pushing and shoving to get a lick or two of the best pussy they'd would ever get their tongue on.

It wasn't long when these desert foxes were filled with witch juice and were soon lapping each other for the lack of getting at me. That's when the guards came in. They had to fight their way to get to me but when one of the guards pried the last of the princes wives off and saw the prize of Sheba, he dove for it and I let him have all he could take before another guard pulled him off to take his place.

Soon they were all drunk as hell on my nectar and that's when I decided to get the hell out of Sinbad. Now under the power of the pussy  I made a curse and turned them to toads. All of them and watched them hop about and into the lily-pad pool looking for flies, and there were plenty of them, these people don't wash real well.

My clit was licked sore, which really put me in a bad mood. That's when this bearded asshole came in with his damn holy book spouting Alla this and Alla that. I had enough of these desert rats, and when he shoved that fucking book in my face, screaming at me. I grabbed that book out of his hand, smacked him on the back of his head to make him bend over, then grabbed the hem of his robe and threw it over his head. With a good smack on his ass, I shoved the book right up his butt until I couldn't see it. That got him hopping. Then the eunuch came in with the prince. That's when all hell broke out.

"What have you done to my wives and our Imam?"

"What? Oh, you mean that herd of lesbos you left me with? Well, they're fly fishing. And that bearded wacko? He's really anal retentive you know. I put that book of his where the sun don't shine. And what about you? You want some more honey from the honey pot?  Well, fuck you."

The fat ball-ess wonder came flying over. "You cannot talk to the master that way."

"Oh no?" I said turning to the Eunuch, "Okay, I'll tone it down." Then I turned back to the prince. "Now dearest, I bet you'd like a piece of hair pie about now. Wouldn't you?"

"Oh, I would very much." I had moved my dress so he could see the beaver all wet and red from the tongue lashing.

"Well, don't you think you could put blubber boy someplace while you have a piece? Say out guarding the camels in the south forty."

The prince pranced up and down. He was so delighted, "Eunuch, walk the palace grounds till I tell you otherwise."

"Yes Master," and with that Blubber Boy left.

"Well, that takes care of that. Here ya go sweet cakes, get your American hair pie."

That beard dove in and forgot all about the croaking going on in the patio. There were fewer flies too. And as the prince ate to his heart content, I watched the contortions of the Imam trying to  pull the Quran from his ass. He did eventually and at that very moment, as shit dripped from the soggy mess he held in his hand, he fell dead on the spot. Heart attack I imagine. But I had my own problems.

"Okay lover boy, I think you ate what ever was left. After the attack from your devoted wives, my pussy needs a half time." That's when I grabbed that dripping beard of his and yanked.


"Please, my beard is very important to me."

"It is huh. Come here sweetie, I'd like to play with it." He lifted his head so I could stroked his beard, which felt like strands of wire. "You know, with hair as thick as yours, you need a conditioner. You don't want to bruise your little pussy with course hair do you?'

"No--No, I'll get a conditioner right now."

"Let me. I happen to carry some where ever I go. When you have raven black hair like mine, you need to condition." I searched in my small bag kept near and dear to me at all times and found the potion I was looking for.

"Okay, now you sit between my legs and watch the clit." I didn't have to tell him that since it's what he's been staring at since I pulled him off.

I took some potion and poured it in his beard, murmuring a chant as I rubbed it in. "There now, take a look in the mirror and tell me if that doesn't look better."

He looked and was very happy with what he saw. "My beard has never looked so good." He exclaimed clapping like an eight year old.

"I'm so happy I could help."

What the prince saw was a very handsome prince, what everyone else saw looked like a hooker after the fleet came in. Red pouty lips with mascara eyes of a cheap drag queen. Blond hair, done in swirls and curls, and tits that stuck out like the hubcaps on a fifty-six Pontiac. With matching six inch pumps and red dress, he was simply too divine for sore eyes.

"Honey, how about getting us something to eat. Outside of me that is." I know how these minds work.

"Yes, my love. I'll call for service." He walked over to a cord at the wall and pulled.

Soon, servants came in to see me fanning my clit and him dressed in high drag screaming at them for some French croissants, cheese and fruit. I asked for a pork cutlet medium rare and two bottles of champagne to wash it down with.

It wasn't long before I was on a plane out of there with Tallulah.  The royal family didn't want scandal but they did want to buy the videos from my cell phone for a very nice price. And the Prince, what a shame, he could never understand why everyone was treating him the way  they were, and he didn't take to the locked and padded cell for very long before  he passed away. Oh well. Boo-Ho.

After that I thought I'd take a break. Stay a widow for a while, especially since I didn't sell all the videos.     

Penelope's Peculiarities, Tale Two, Rich Man Poor Man

Well it didn't work out well in granny's place and really what a boor, I like the night life, can't help myself and with the cash I pulled in from Worm, I found myself a nice comfortable apartment in Manhattan. Course it takes money to live in New York and I planned to find me a gold mine. Ronald Lump made millions building malls everywhere he could. From city blocks to corner slums, he was the mogul of malls. He was also tasteless and crude, as well as being fabulously wealthy, all the qualities I admire in men.

When I first was introduced to him at a friend's party he seemed interested, a lot of men are, but he was far more interested in himself--at first. Seeing a chair available, I sat in a provocative pose with my legs slightly apart and my black silk dress lifted, discreetly of course, but giving Ronald a glimpse should his gaze come my way. It did, just like a fly to honey.

The next thing I know, Ronald is talking to me, asking, rather rudely, if I lost my panties.

"What makes you think I wear them?"

"Ah, I thought you a bit of a wench when introduced, and I was right." He winked at me, "But I've ran into your type before, your wares come with a price. I'm I right?"

"I've never turned down money nor have I asked for it. If that's what you mean. But I'm recently widowed, and looking for some fun. That's all." After that I walked away to chat with a rather handsome pro soccer player and left Lump standing there.

It was a few days later that my friend who hosted the party called and asked if it was okay to give my phone to Mr. Lump. I said he could and it wasn't an hour later that he called.

"Hello?"

"Penelope, it's Ronald from the party. We talked about your panties, or rather lack of them. Listen, I'm a busy man but I'd like to meet you, I've a lovely suite overlooking Central park if you would like to meet me there. I'll give the doorman your name and he'll buzz you up."

I was stroking my pussy, listening to her purr while she sat on my lap. "Well, I'm busy today. What about Thursday? Around noon." I heard him cough a few times before he answered.

"If you're trying to jack me around it won't work. Be there at noon. On Thursday." He then hung up without saying another word.

I arrived fashionably late, and he was fuming, calling me names and shoving a legal document in my face to sign. "I know your type, a slut looking for trophies, you can brag all you want to your whore friends but unless you sign this document, no Ronny. Got that?"

"I don't have a problem signing it, I'm not looking for a trophy, just a little fun. Outside of calling women names. Do you like to have fun Ronald?"

He took the document, and made sure I signed it before he put it in his vest pocket. "Okay, whatever, now why don't you strip and let me see what you have."

"How about this Ronald, I'll sit on the edge of the bed and you sit in that chair over there, wouldn't you like a little fun first?"


"Honey, making money is fun to me, let's make this quick."

As I sat down, I lifted my dress and spread my legs. He at last stopped looking at his watch. Then I asked if he would like a good close look and perhaps, if he wanted, a taste of my hair pie.

He walked over, mesmerized, and dropped to his knees. It didn't take long for him to dive in. I let that bastard eat his heart out before I stopped him.

"You know, I've got an appointment myself, and while it's been fun, gotta go."

He was determine to stay put by pushing his head in my cunt like he was diving into a pool, I had to be a bit firmer. "Hey, Lump!" I said, and at the same time grabbed what hair he had on his head and pulled him off me.

"Hey watch it! My hair, it's delicate."

"So's my cunt asshole."

"Look, I'll give you some money if you let me dine a little while longer."

"No dice. The contract you had me sign said anything given can be forfeited at anytime."  I still had a hand of his comb over hair style in a color of orange never seen.

"I'll rip it up. Would you let go of my hair. Please?"

"Behave yourself then."

"Promise."

I thought of braiding his hair so that it would be a good handle to control him, if it ever came to that, and let go of his thinning strands. He went right to his vest pocket reached in and took the contract out. Then he stood if front of me with his dick tenting his pants and tore it up.

"Hand me your coat."

"What? You don't trust me?"

"No. Now if you want to deal, lets deal. Hand me the coat."

He reluctantly did where I found more than one contract. I tore them all up.

"Jesus, I just signed a major deal with one of those."

"Get another. Now, you want more snatch. I'm I right?"

"Oh, yeah." His eyes went right to the beaver.

"Well the free lunch is over asshole. You called me a slut and cheap and I'm a recently divorced widow who's husband was a devout Baptist minister. Now when you decide to marry me, without any of your fucking contracts, let me know."

I left him there with drool dripping from his mouth and a wet spot near his fly. And I knew that soon there would be a call from this asshole, because I let him have far more pussy juice than what any normal human being could take. And call he did.

"Oh, baby, I haven't slept in three days. All I can think about is your delicious pussy."

"And you're calling me because?"

"How about I give you a whole lot of money?"

"No dice. It's marriage or nothing."

"Damn honey. Well if it's marriage you want, marriage you'll get. Now, I'll come over and will celebrate with some pie. My oh my, hair pie. How's that sound to you?"

"How about you come over with a proper ring and a case of champagne."

"I'll be there in a jiff."

He was too. I thought, the guy must have all that shit in the back of the limo, because he was at my door knocking before I finished talking with Tallulah. The champagne was nice and cold and I knocked off a few bottles while he showed me some very large diamond rings. I wasn't sure what looked best on my hand and decided a handful would be better.

Of course Lump wanted lunch and dinner for the rings, but a peek would work just as well. I thought,  especially with all that pussy juice in him.

"Well darling, these are all so very nice. "Thank you! I accept you're proposal. Now when do you want to get married?"

"How about I dive in between your legs right now and we'll talk about it later." He couldn't keep his eyes off the beaver.

"When we get married, Precious. Now I'll let you take a gander of your prize because I've got to get on the phone and arrange a fabulous wedding. You don't want anything less than fabulous do you?"

"Alright. Alright. Alright. Have the wedding A.S.A.P. I don't give a shit just give me a taste."

"Nothing doing until it's official. Now lay down and I'll give you a treat."

He did, with his face up I stood over his head with one foot on each side. "Do you see that, Ronald?"

"I sure do. It looks like the gate of heaven."

"Bet your sweet ass it does. Now take a good look because the shows over until the day we're man and wife." I stood for a minute more and swore I heard his dick squirt twice in his shorts before I step away.

"Oh baby that was great. Fantastic. But how about sitting right down on my face for an hour or so."

"You know what Ron?"

"What honey?"

"Sit up here in this chair for minute will you?"

"Sure baby, anything." He sat like a pup waiting for the ball. I went to a desk drawer and pulled out a bit of yellow ribbon.  Then came back and as I rubbed my pussy on his face, braided his hair into a top knot and tied it off with the ribbon. Then I stood away with his face following until it fell on the ground with the rest of him.

"Easy there Lump. Now I expect you to wear your hair just the way I have it or you might hurt my feelings and I then I'd feel kinda frigid. Got it Sport?"

"I'd wear bunny ears if it makes you happy honey. Now, about coming over and let me saddle up."

"How about you getting the hell out and make some big money because we're going to have one hell of  a party."

"And Honeymoon. Right honey?"

"Yeah, sure. Now go out and get ten million. I've got to call Tallulah."

With that I escorted him to the door. I could see he was in no hurry to leave and I had enough of Ronald Lump. After opening another bottle of the bubbly, I rang Tallulah.

"Hey gal, got hitched again and this one don't need credit cards. Is that castle still available for rent? Yeah, Great. Well we'll take it and tell the gang we're having a party. Get us all the best cause my future hubby wants it for me.  Thanks, I'll have my fiance' send you ten mil to get it all started. Bye for now."

That settled, I called Lump and told him where to send the cash and to do it today. He gasped, he grumbled and I'm pretty sure, farted but send he did.

The next day Lump's lawyers stood waiting at my door when I opened it to take my walk through the park. I didn't sign a damn thing that they shoved in my face, and told them to have Lump send twenty more million by the end of the week for the wedding. They threatened me with all kinds of law suits if I was scamming their client to which I replied, he is a grown adult and has the right to do as he wishes and his wish was to make me happy.  Lump called my phone the whole fucking day after that until I turned the damn thing off. I sent him a letter that he had better call the hounds off if he wanted to marry me or else I would have nothing to do with him.

I guess he read the letter. Three days later he's over begging for a taste and as humble as a blind nun with his hair in the braid and the little yellow ribbon tied to it. I thanked him for his diligence before getting hold of the braid for a good yank.

"Now listen and listen good. I'm not going to fuck around with you anymore with your goddamn lawyers and bullshit contracts. You either marry me or get the hell out of my sight."

"Oh baby I'm so sorry. They made me do it. They think I'm going crazy with marrying you. I'll fire every last one of them. In fact I'm on it."

That's when his phone came out and the shouting began. After I had a couple of bottles of champagne he was finally off the phone. "No fucking lawyers baby, Now about giving daddy some candy."

"Great! Get your jet ready honey, we're flying to a castle in Spain and there's a bonafide Justice of the Peace to get us hitched on the way."

There was a flurry of phone calls that had to be made, both of us were speed dialing and I mentioned another twenty million needed for him to have the best wedding ever. Lump was so damn horny, sniffing and licking where I sat. Pathetic, and I knew what it would take to make him crawl over scorpions at my bidding.

"I think it's time for a treat. Don't you?" He was over so fast I felt the wind hit me from his speed.

"A treat?"

"I think so. Why don't you plow your nose into my snatch and get a real good whiff." With that I hiked up my dress and let him bury his face.

When he had enough, I grabbed my handy holder of hair and yanked him out. His face had a smile of bliss on it, drool from his mouth dripped to the floor and the entire front of his pants was wet from dick juice.

"Was that good for you baby?" I waited but he was out cold, shivering and lapping his tongue at the air.

"It was good for you, I can see that. Just think of our wedding night and all the pleasures that await you."

That did it. He was dialing up a preacher now trying to get one on the spot. "Give me your phone. That's a good boy. I've got it all planned and you don't want to spoil my plans do you?"

He looked a little hurt that he didn't have his phone.

Now that I had his attention, I let go of the nab of hair. Now, the first thing we need for you is diapers. I'm not putting up with cock goo dripping on my floors. and I want you to suck on this pacifier."  I handed him one that look just like a tit. "And when I want something, I'll let you know, but until then, sit here on the floor with your nappy on and your hair in a ribbon and don't forget to put the pacifier in your mouth.

He stared at me while he held the rubber tit in one of his little hands and started to cry. That's when I slapped the living shit out of him.

"I'll give you something to cry about. Now put the goddamn tit in your fucking mouth asshole!" I clipped him on the chin which sent him rolling across the floor, but when he righted himself, he was sucking on the tit.

Now that I had Lump's attention, I told him to get his jet ready, the wedding party will be on board with the chaplain. He wanted his tux, but settled for baby blue pajamas with cute floating yellow balloons to match the ribbon in his hair. The man had no shame.

We all boarded Lump's plane and took off for Spain. I had a fantastic leather outfit that went perfect with Lump's baby blue pajamas. He didn't like it, but the power of the pussy was far to great for the jerk and he suckled his neoprene tit like it was his mom's. Only he said he never had his mom's tit because she wasn't about to have the squalling brat any where near her implants.

We walked down the middle of the isle while the clan whistled, cat-called and pop corks on champagne to spray us as we passed. I made sure to invite a few of Trump's lawyers along for the fun of it and couldn't help but notice the register of horror on their faces when we walked by. So there we are, the happy couple, me in my latest leather outfit and Lump sucking on his rubber tit wearing baby-blue pajamas with a yellow ribbon that tied his hair in a tuft. It was adorable, and of course, the press was there with cameras flashing like it was the Forth of July.

Well the rev pronounced us man and wife and had us lick each other rather than kiss. Except Lump took the offer to jumped into the band wagon, with his sticky tongue, trying to get some damn good tasting poon tang right in front of everyone. Boy did the cameras flash for that one. I grabbed the ungrateful fuck by his twine of hair, pulled him off and held him up with his feet bouncing and his fists flying. He wailed like a new spanked baby as I held him there.

"Sorry folks, he ain't fully trained yet. But he sure as hell will be." I announced before letting go to watch him drop at my feet.

"Now when we land, everyone into the limos, they're lined up and ready to party all the way to the castle." That got a standing ovation, which was good because the Lump at my feet had started to cry. He didn't get what he wanted, but he'll get plenty once we're inside the stone walls.

And what a hoot it all was. I couldn't deal with Whiny Lump and his sniveling whimper, so with a good kick to the diaper pan, I landed him in the trunk of the limo shut the lid and told the driver to make the turns real sharp, "There's a lump in the back I'd like soften up." Is what I said to the Russian chauffeur, and did that light up his scarred face.

That limo took turns like a bullwhip, and all the way to the castle I heard Lump slam from one side to the other. By the time we arrived at the gates the screams and pleas had long stopped.  We got out to a view of a perfect setting of a rather large fortress perched on top a mountain, fortified with thick granite walls. A real medieval view.  That Tallulah, she sure can do a party.

One of Lump's lawyers was nagging me about leaving the jerk in the trunk. I had the Russian driver bring him in. Boy what a mess, but Lump the Chump was quiet, even docile, though a little wobbly. He at least wasn't making a bee line to my cunt. I think he didn't really know where he was, so I told the driver to take him to the top of the castle, along with his lawyers, to get some fresh air. That should sober them up.

Well the party was a big hit. Tallulah hired only the top bands that were flown in day and night. We rocked that castle for over a month when my girlfriend said Lump had nothing left. And that reminded me, I left him on the roof.

Well, turned out I didn't have to worry. The limo driver had Lump and his lawyers play an old Russian drinking game. A good swig of vodka, straight from the bottle, and then a walk on a plank set along the edge of the castle wall.  The Russian won and I was once again left a widow.

Poor me.