hot
you better hope I never come to southern america
I really wish I woulda saved the chatlogs. Moreso than the vore stories he cooked up, he'd come up with new ways he'd kill me every time I:
-didn't give him a handbra picture
-didn't give him any loveual pictures
-didn't give him my address
-said he couldn't visit me IRL
-said he couldn't have love with my friends
-said I didn't love him
-said I'd never love him
-said he was fat
-made a fat joke
-made a being-poor joke
-made a highschool dropout joke
-made a college dropout joke
I remember after he found out my last name, he said that he'd show up to my house while I was at school, shoot my dad, and wait for me to get home. Then he'd subdue me, cut off each individual digit with a knife heated in hot grease so that it'd cauterize as it cut and I wouldn't bleed out. Then he'd cut off my clitoris and my labia, and then rape my ass until I shat myself. Then he'd just leave me to starve to death or something once all my appendages and my genitals were sliced off and he'd beaten me sufficiently.
I mean, I woulda went to the police if I wasn't falling out my chair laughing at him.
So wait, how is Iban posting from jail?
Probably from the prison library.
There is no reaction image powerful enough to describe this topic, instead I'm just going to crawl into a dark corner and cry myself to sleep, if that's even possible at this point.
Prolly for the best.