Monday, April 18, 2016

He's Not the Self-Molester The Country Needs, But He Is The Self-Molester It Deserves Right Now

Teddy surveyed the city from a darkened rooftop, the city he had sworn to protect. It had been a quiet night, unusually quiet. He knew from bitter experience that the peace would never hold.

His erection twitched and curved toward the northeast. Teddy was on the move before her scream rang out. He covered the two blocks in a flash and landed beside a woman sprawled in the filth of an alley.

“What’s the trouble, ma’am?” he asked while pulling her roughly to her feet. She was beautiful, blonde and stacked like a cord of firewood.

“That man…” she started. She broke off when she saw him in the yellow light of the alley and gaped at his skintight uniform, his mask, his stubby erection poking through a hole in the front. He shook her like a terrier with a rat it wanted to kill.

“Speak, woman! I’m her to help you,” he roared.

“That man stole my bag of dildos!” She pointed at the back of a man fleeing down the alley.

“Dildos? What are you doing with dildos?” he demanded. Teddy thought he had freed the city from the scourge of artificial genital manipulation devices years ago.

“They’re medicinal!” the woman insisted. “I have a prescription!”

“What kind of doctor would prescribe whore wands? They don’t let whores be doctors!” he thundered.

“Are you going to help me or not?” she asked.

Teddy pressed in close. “Oh, I’ll get your twat rods back. I’ll trace them back to your whore doctor and I’ll get him too.” She could feel his hot breath on her face and his erection brushed against her.

“Don’t touch it!” he screamed. “Only I touch it!”

Teddy threw her back in the puddle of muck he found her and took to the air, a tremendous blast of pure seminal energy pouring from his member holding him aloft. He quickly overtook the dildo thief and landed in front of him on a busy sidewalk.

“Halt!” he intoned. “Give me the clit buzzers and I won’t hurt you!”

“I know you,” the purloiner of perverted pleasure said. “You’re The Jackker!  These are mine. I need them for my butt. Stay away from me or I’ll kick you in the choad!”

“My choad is more powerful than you can possibly imagine,” Teddy growled, advancing on the criminal scum. “Put the pussy plungers down or I’ll make sure you never touch yourself ever again.”

The thief swung the bag of dildos. Teddy swatted it aside, scattering the tremblers across along the street when the bag burst. With three masterful frottage thrusts the thief lay bleeding on the stinking asphalt.

Teddy stood over the prone ass player and ejaculated on him with a minimum of efficient strokes. A number of onlookers had gathered, drawn to the erotic charge of violence and snapped pictures with their cellphones as steam rose dramatically from the semen soaked cretin.

The Jackker strode purposefully around the crowd, his erection bobbing, and crushed the dildos that were strewn on the sidewalk before they could tempt the innocent citizens of Cruz City. He smiled and waved as the flashes of their cameras bombarded him.

“Touch it!” they screamed. “Touch it for us!”

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