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Bill the lumberjack chases poor little me through
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Bill the lumberjack chases poor little me through the woods.
There is very fast dramatic music. "Swoosh," goes his axe through the
air, barely splitting a hair on my foot. Hey Bill look out for that
... low branch. Bleh.
CRACK!
"Cut! That's a wrap. Great work, Rita Rabbit." Bill is still
dazed from his close encounter with the golden bough. He drags his
big dopey self to the dressing room.
"That hurt ..." Bill moans. I can still see the little blue
birds flying around his head.
The crew gives him some smelling salts. That was our forty first
show. TV's great, ain't it? Bill was such a sport about it all,
through all the anvils, fire hoses, fire hydrants, dogs, wolves,
bears, more anvils, rolling iron wrecking balls.
The next day was a riot. I'm here running for my life from Bill,
who's wielding his axe as usual. Cut to a shot of a wrecking ball
swinging. I ran toward it, Bill in hot pursuit. Swipe swipe, yeah
yeah yeah. I give him a raspberry to piss him off some more. Just a
few more seconds, I quickly jump to the side. Kablooey! Close
encounter of the fifth kind. Bill slides off of the wrecking ball. I
come over, take his finger, and start blowing. Bill fills up like a
balloon, and starts floating away.
I'm here looking up at the sky, when who should happen by, but
Robin Hood, literally a round robin in Lincoln Green. I ain't
shittin' you. He looks up at the sky.
"Good day, Rita Rabbit, What are you looking at?"
"I'd never thought I'd see the day when pigs could fly. Could I
borrow that?"
I borrow the bow, and an arrow, and sink one, right in the
keister. Bill flies around like a balloon whose air has been
released, and when he is out of air, he hangs there in suspense of
disbelief. When the law of physics, gravity, suddenly dawns upon him,
well, let's just say, he did a Wile E. Coyote.
Crew scrapes him off of the grass.
So, I'm in my dressing room, at the end of the day. Roses from
my admirers. End of the day thing.
I step out.
Bill is there waiting with his axe, looking mighty pissed off.
"Is there a shot that we forgot to shoot?" I ask.
No answer.
"Cut!"
That didn't work. Better try something else.
"Lunch!"
I'm shocked. A growing boy needs his food. Oh, boy.
"Bill, we aren't filming, you can put your axe down."
"All these years, I've been stepped on, smashed with Anvils,
crushed by wrecking balls, and you got all the glory. That's all
going to end now. I'm gonna have my time in the sun."
Please don't do this to me. If I have to die, let it not be this
way, having to listen to the whining of a putz with a complex.
"Maybe you have conflicts with your mother that need uh
resolving. ... uh, yeah. ... I know a great therapist, Bill, Bill?"
He keeps coming toward me with that axe.
"Never, after all these years of humiliation, of the pain, no
you're not gonna get away this time or ever again."
"I'll suck your weenie if you let me go."
He pauses for a moment. "All right."
He unzips his pants, and pulls out his cock. It's bright tan,
and a bigger around that a coffee thermos, and reaches his knees. I
slowly approach his cock with my mouth. It begins to swell more, and
slowly angle up. "Oh yeah."
I bite down hard on the tip. The thing swells up red swollen,
and throbbing. It's got little flashing things on it.
Bill curses grabbing his dick with both hands. With a quick kick
of dust in his face, whee! I'm off in the parking lot.
This is more fun than work.
I get home. I just know that Bill is outside, waiting. I get
out my karaoke machine. "I'm Bill the lumberjack, I smell like shit,
my b.o. smells from here to St. Moritz. I chop down trees all day
long. Every night I play with my schlong. There are no women out
here in the great outdoors. So I whittle them out of wood and
s'mores. I've got a pal, his name is Marty. I used to screw him but
he got too farty."
That pissed him off. CRASH.
"Not the bow window, you ass."
"Oh."
He jumps back out the window, giving me time to hide before ...
CRASH! there goes my door.
He wanders around for a while. "Rita, I know you're in here.
Come out come out wherever you are."
"How do you know?"
"Duh ..."
While he ruminates, I run right past him to the bedroom, and lock
the door.
Thud. Thud! Crash! the door explodes in splinters. Bill
throws the bed out of the window with one hand, exposing poor cute
little me.
"Now it ends, Rita."
"We can talk about this like adults, Bill."
He's not impressed.
"There's no need for this."
Still, he's not impressed.
"I'll let you fuck me if you let me go." I can't believe I just
said that!
This stops him.
"Okay."
Slowly, I unbuckle his pants, and slide them down to his ankles,
he closes his eyes, and then ... I bolt.
He chases me out, walking like a penguin, the cops are all over
the front lawn, as well as the media.
"Come out with your hands up."
"And your pants down. Scratch one, smarty no pants."
Bill comes in the next morning somewhat abashed. Everyone has a
copy of the Los Angeles Times with that big front page spread of Bill,
his schlong hanging out, walking like a penguin.
The cop tells me, "We can have a restraining order on him."
"That won't be necessary. He's perfectly harmless."
Another great day in LaLa land. After work, everything is
silent. There isn't any one around. The studio always gets creepy
when no one is about.
"Hello?"
"Hello ... hello ... hello ..."
I can hear my footsteps echo. Well, if Bill was hiding here,
I'de here him snickering in the background. Wait a minute, that's
foley ...
I suddenly caught in a net. Damn shithead, now I'm going to have
a bad hair day tomorrow.
"That was the last straw. Now I'm really going to kill you, and
there's no way that you are going to get out of this one."
This time, he had an Army knife, probably stolen from G.I. Bob,
who was reportedly mugged and raped a few months ago. I personally
think the story is a lot of hooey.
"I'll really let you fuck me if you let me go."
He thought about it for awhile,
"No."
That's a shock. He came closer with the knife.
"Uh, don't I get a last request?"
"Uh ... Okay."
"I want to have sex for the last time."
He started to unzip his pants.
"No, first you have to finger me so I'll be big enough for you."
"Fair enough."
He rubbed his index finger across my vagina, and the slipped the
very tip in. He pulled it out, and slid it in further, all the time,
my vagina getting wetter and wetter. He slid in his middle finger,
and went a little higher. My vagina made a sucking noise on his
fingers. Just a little bit further. He pulled his fingers out, and
slid them in slowly. He added his fourth finger. He now had three
fingers in, and was pushing them in slowly. Just a little farther, a
little farther, oh, just a little further ...
G-SPOT Suddenly, eight gallons of female ejaculate splashed onto
his face. I'm out of here!
I see him from the catwalk, looking totally stunned, wet and
stunned. I'm still wet though, and oh no, I've left a trail of
secretion. It's not stopping.
He trails me up the catwalk to the very end, which is a total
drop off.
Now he is really going to kill me.
I can take this fall easily. I jump off the catwalk.
Surprisingly, Bill tries to catch me, but misses, and falls himself.
Boom, I get up and scrape myself off of the floor, when splat!
Bill flattens me to a pancake.
"Rita! don't die on me."
He peels me off of the pavement. He strokes my fur. He tries to
do CPR oon me, but that doesn't work, because he doesn't know cpr, and
even if he did, it wouldn't work.
He kisses my wet flattened vagina, and gets the bright idea to
blow in it. He blows harder and harder, and POP! I'm in 3D again.
"I thought you were a goner."
"We toons are more resilient than that. You of all people should
know that."
"I'm sorry, Rita."
"No, I'm sorry, for all those years I well wasn't very nice to
you."
He kissed me. I could taste my own toony secretions on his lips.
It tasted like strawberries.
"Let's make some toon porn," I say.
Bill smiles, and unzips his pants. He parts my vagina with his
fingers, and slowly sticks his massive cock slowly into me. I have to
stretch at least sixty times to accomodate him. He moves it in and
out of me. It gets even bigger. The air is suffused with the smell
of strawberries as I gush gallons and gallons of toon juice down his
leg. He grabs my hips viciously and fucks me even harder, his hard
muscular body propelling him deeper and deeper into me. He sweats
bullets literally from his exertions. His forehead looks like Niagara
falls. My fur gets soaked in his sweat.
I scream when he thrusts the hardest, squirting his toon juice
into me.
The next day is more of the same. I dash into logs, and he gets
stuck, and then I boot him on the ass with a pair of army boots.
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