Cunt

CATERPILLARS presents as a character-driven journey of self-discovery and healing. The plot concept about a terminally ill man going on a quest of soul searching has merit. The script provides many insightful moments. The plot is driven by themes about healing, reconnecting, living, and dying. The tone is dramatic and inspirational. The goal is internal and emotional with the hope of finding enlightenment. The stakes are personal. There’s an organic ticking clock. The protagonist Josh, dying…

Fraying the Fringes of the Female form: Female Genital Cosmetic Surgery and the commodification of the designer vagina. The number of women undertaking Female Genital Cosmetic Surgery (referred to as FGCS) surgery in Australia, and worldwide, is increasing. Irrespective of the wide-ranging variation in the female genitalia, a certain ‘kind’ of female genitalia has gathered a much envied identifier as being more aesthetically pleasing. It is such a shame that many women compare their own bodies…

young German boys misbehaving around their mother. Nothing serious to infuriate the parent, but she had a look of annoyance on her face. Her carefree voice calmly spoke to the boys, “they’re going to call our flight soon, quit acting like a couple of cunts and take a seat.” I could…

“How long have I slept,” thinks Becky as she wakes up. “What a horrid dream.” She stretches and is surprised at how sore her muscles are. She rolls over and yelps, her eyes pop open. “No, it can’t be real.” Tears fill her eyes and roll down her cheeks when she realizes where she is. She is back in the main room. All around her are the shimmering facet doors. Lying there, she surveys the damage to her body. There is a large painful bruise across her stomach. Becky cries harder when…

She goes to warn her father about boys, about how when she turns just fourteen that the kids in her class will have called her many gruesome names (including that of a whore and a cunt). Explaining to her father, that none of these are in fact true, but instead the boys say it out of laughter. At age sixteen, a few of the guys would have slid their hands down her pants. Half-drunk, she tells them no, but oddly enough they do not…

Hassan suffered all those years because of the absence of his mother and the reason on why she left him. The book shows, “What a tight little sugary cunt she had! the soldier was saying, shaking hands with others, grinning. Later, in the dark, after the movie had started, I heard Hassan next to me, croaking. Tears were sliding down his cheeks. I reached across my seat, slung my arm around him, pulled…

from where I’m standing, and I wanted to be incharge. I turned around, pushed him towards the bed, removed the vibrator, sucked it, rode him (of course we had wet wipes by the bed stand and cleaned our Alexander properly before reinserting him up my cunt). The vibrating sensation and the fullness of his dick made me shatter as I was riding him. I couldn’t keep myself from coming, I let out a loud, satisfied groan. Anton was about to climax and I rode him harder and harder. Up and down, more…

Glancing out the window of her three story hotel room onto the night streets of Sydney, Australia below, Elisabeth Filarski was restless. Staring at the slow moving cars as she looked out the window, the neon lights of the billboards nearby reflecting harshly onto her face, her mind was rapidly churning over the upcoming days over and over. She knew she should sleep and make sure she had plenty of energy for tomorrow, but her mind wouldn't let her body calm down and relax. Tomorrow she was…

A serial killer carries out a series of murders of at least three or more people. Each serial killer has their own way of doing things. Serial killers differ from one killer to the next because they are different in the way that they kill. There are several differences between the Beauty Killer and the After School Strangler. Many things are different from the two, but the fact that they are both psychopaths remains the same. First, Gretchen Lowell is the Beauty Killer. The name Beauty…

My face twisted. Gently, I placed the freshly baked chocolate chip cookie I had been washing down with my whiskey into the garbage, “Ew.” “I ended up having to drag him to the tub and wipe his bottom with wet napkins,” she went on, “After that, I couldn’t take it anymore. I left.” If I would be inclined to give the ladies any advice, it would be to shut the fuck up about your ex-boyfriend war stories. I don’t want to hear how you smeared shit on your love’s asshole once upon a time. Amy’s…