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/lit/ - Literature

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22740380 No.22740380 [Reply] [Original]

>> No.22740390

that picture look like you made it or know where it came from

>> No.22740417

non-euclidean menstrual cups cannot be dislodged without deploying mamzer-mudras, much to her displeasure in the mint teal tiled kill room disabled access stall. at least these nephilim are ADA compliant.

>> No.22740443

It was always hard to untuck and urinate her flaccid sissy clit mid-show but she was just so happy to be one of the hired dancers the inconvenience was trivial. Besides as they say, trans without penis is an angel without wings.

>> No.22740498

The soft patter of toilet water lapped against her skin like waves lolling against the coast. The woman sat there, her hair wrapped in toilet paper, imagining how good she looked that other day. God was she hot. She stretched a leg on the guard rail even. Then she left.

>> No.22740562

A dancer found herself mesmerized in the bathroom at what she saw in the mirror. Something she had never seen before. The faint glow from which a feeling emanated, one she'd never had before. All she could do was stare. Let herself be captivated by what the mirror revealed. Time did not move, neither did she. No matter the awkward position she had, she held it and stared.

>> No.22740699

She was comfortable in front of me in a way beyond anything that implied intimacy or trust. All it was was her knowledge that I wouldn't flinch and that even if I did it wouldn't matter---I'd stay. I can remember the first time she called me into the bathroom at her apartment. She was mid-shit, which, to be honest, didn't matter to me, but I laughed. I laughed in the way you laugh at silly things, at bad dirty jokes. She didn't respond. She just sat there staring at me, and when my half-second of chuckling was over she said
"I need you to pass me another roll."
That was it. And even though technically all she did was nothing, I felt struck by exactly that. I didn't bring it up, but when we were fooling around later and she was straddling me, her fingers in a blitz across her clit, she said
"Put it in me"
and I started to realise that I didn't matter at all. To her I was just a robot, something with the right pieces and subservience to answer her commands. I fucked her harder than I ever had.

Tonight she made a look at me from the stage. I knew to meet her backstage where she normally led me off without a word, except this time she spoke,
"I might need your help."
I had stopped questioning following her into the women's washroom by then. Her face never told me anything, but she was rushing in a way that startled me. For this show she had twenty-five-or-so minutes before her next act and I started to wonder what needed to be so expedient. I expected she might puke. But when she rushed into the stall, leaving me there in the still-open door, she craned herself above the toilet in a weird way. Like how an animal does something it doesn't understand except through total instinct. The posture was like she was trying to squeeze something out of herself---something deep and awful---yet she was a foot above the toilet.


>> No.22740704

Before I could wonder more it was
"Hold my dress"
which she passed to me, held up to about breast height with her whole ass exposed. Then
"Hold my hand"
while she stared off, making an animal face. I thought she looked like a horse or some kind of a bird. She was starting to move her hips in a weird way, one leg up on a railing, rocking a little like she was moving something through herself. The grip she had on my hand was tremendous and made me grateful her nails were trim. When I looked at her again I knew exactly what her face looked like: like a chicken laying an egg, though the rest of her seemed alien. Then it came out.

In the toilet, on the seat, and a little on the floor, was something that looked like red, oily coffee grounds, and it smelled rotten. It wasn't shit. She wasn't on her period. When she looked at it she said
"I think I just had a miscarriage"
and let go of my hand while I was still hiking up her skirt. She bent miraculously to reach the toilet paper, reeling off a massive wad and dabbing it on her cunt.
"Let go"
and she fixed her dress.
"I need you to clean this up."
The automatic flush went off. She glanced at the floor, and she left, passing by me without so much as grazing my jacket. There was a spot on my shoe. I wiped it off, and then I started wiping the floor. I started to wonder if it would go down the drain in the floor. I started to imagine myself as the brown fetal sludge.


Kinda funny.



Also shit.

>> No.22740752

So there I was. Minding my own business. Just enjoying the weather, yknow? Just having a good old time by myself. And what’s wrong with that? Nothing if you ask me. Nothing is wrong with that. That’s what I say. Anyway, there I was and then there was this lady in the bathroom and she was like all standing up all weird or something if you could believe that. The end.

Sent from my iPhone

>> No.22741227 [DELETED] 

It wouldn't have been so bad if the crabs in her vagina hadn't also taken up smoking. She had tried reasoning with them. She had tried cajoling. She had attempted to leave a trail of snuff out the door of the apartment complex. Enough was enough. It was time to dress up as a 1920s jitterbug and give birth to an abortion in the toileting area.

>> No.22741316


>> No.22742294


She was a woman. Her pussy womaned. She womanly entered the she-clasp of the women's bathroom, as a woman, and pussily closed the door with the "woman" text emblazoned on it. Her pussy womaned to release, she felt it womanly, she she-felt her she-self always. Like two she-halves of her she-pussy, now she lifted her woman skirt to part herself so she could she-piss. SCHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE...Her womanly she-release pussily rang she-up and she-down the she-room she entered womanly to pussily SCHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE...She saw her she-piss womanly, she was a she, after all. Her pussily SCHEEE-SCHEEE prepared to she-cease her womanly she-space. Soon she will no longer she-be, the last SCHEEE-SCHEEE signaled, to her, her sheturn to the world where she would shut her she-chute...SCHE...SCH...SCh...sch...shh...she soothed her she-sprinkler. Soon, she said, she would be in her she-latrine, pussily shut in her shepartment. She will be...SHE. She will...SCHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE...

>> No.22742336

AHHHHHHH MY FUCKING LEG, HOLY SHIT. SOMEONE HELP, OH MY GOD I THINK IT'S BROKEN. *Sob* How can I pay for my mother's hospital bill now? Do I have to whore myself out? Bu- *Groan of pain* but John, I can't forget about him. Must I do something so cruel to the man I love? But mother..... *Eyes glaring in determination* I feel sorry for John, but this is what I must do, wait for me, my beloved mother, for I must be penetrated three ways. And John, the light of my life, my love for you will not cease. For even if another man's large sword is in me, I shall always love you more, with all my heart.

>> No.22742351

Quixotic metamodernist pastiches provoke a scatological fixation on hyperfeminine media tropes, thus beauteous androgyny transmogrifies into vis-a-vis humdrum daily driver palettes with ersatz anti-nostalgic big beat iconography.

>> No.22743443

write something

>> No.22743827

leg that's raised to handle-rail
body stooped half-genuflect
the face alight and neck erect
eyes ahead like heads of nails

spotted shoulder, bending limb
parallel lines of the jewelled wrist
breasts that droop from chest by straps
the din of crowds that's lost at last

a shrinking ball of womanhood
snow wraps the head and stars the body
quivered lips, chest heaving sharply
closes eyes right where she's stood

>> No.22743872


Was going somewhere funny then lost it.

Breddy gud.
One of life's mysteries.

Broken leg does not follow from picture. Cheap phone-in.

Appealing quasi-nonsense.


>> No.22744256
File: 141 KB, 1080x1405, huh.jpg [View same] [iqdb] [saucenao] [google]

>Broken leg does not follow from picture.
wtf is this

>> No.22744281

It's AI. It's doing hands well now, but still has issues with feet (unless you're using a specialized model).

>> No.22744287

Not fucking broken, that's for sure. Do you think they snapped that girl's leg for a photo-op? Unless you're severely obese you could probably mimic that pose right now.

Please be bait.

>> No.22744336

Once apon a time a woman wanted to take a shit but forgot how to do it.
The end.

>> No.22744657

You ever considered compiling your favourite entries from your threads?