Editing Hackforsatan19 (section)

====Fuck him.====
[https://plague.infect.site/?contaminant=1A4C4347A0E419116DBA6F7A0DCC39AC9DFD675BCA6B57B0D1A1D7C662CC3496 Link]
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His hand's creeping up your skirt as you finally manage to click the child-lock switch. You could drop a fist on his nutsack right now, bite off his tongue, jam your ridiculous fake nails right into his eyeballs. You could run. 
But you let him keep going.
This is very fucking different.
You shove your tongue down his throat so fucking hard he actually tries to push you off. You look at him like a frenzied animal. He looks at you like a spooked deer waiting to die. 
It's the fucking hottest thing you've ever seen in your life. You don't even bother to undo his shitty braided belt. You just tear open his fly, sending cheap Old Navy buttons flying in every direction.
You pull him into a hard kiss and it's like he's just sitting there, just taking it, not sure what to do, entirely at your fucking mercy. You never really understood the whole bondage thing, but the power... the complete domination you have over this pathetic little biblefucking worm makes you just wanna fucking cum.
You dig his cock out of his gross whitey-tightys and it's the shittiest fucking cock you've ever seen. 
You stop tongue-flogging him long enough to tell him, "You've got the shittiest fucking cock I've ever seen." Before he can even respond, you shove your tongue back where it belongs and taste blood on his lips. Fuck that's hot. You push your panties to the side and slide all four inches of his skinny little clown pole inside you. Your pussy clenches down on it hard and he yelps like a little bitch boy would, so you slap him across the face with the back of your hand. 
And then he just stops moving. Stops groping, stops trying desperately to keep up with your tongue, just stops. You're getting real fuckin' sick of these Anti-JumpScares of his...
Oh fuck. He just came, didn't he? What was that, fifteen seconds? Holy shit, this pathetic little BITCH! You didn't even feel it, but that's hardly a surprise... 
He looks confused, his face is going slack, pale, motionless, afraid... Fuck yes, baby. It's okay, you can finish the job yourself. Fuckkkkk, mmmmmm.... His face stops moving altogether, frozen in horror, petrified, and the skin is pruning like he's been soaking in a bathtub too long... way too long. Mmmm... Yeah. Yeah. AH! FUCK, BABY! DON'T STOP! DON'T STOP! He's shriveling, like all the moisture is being sucked out of his body, like all the collagen and fat and muscle are evaporating, disintegrating, eyes rolling back and sinking into his skull, oh god yes, MMMM YES YES FUCK BABY RIGHT THERE RIGHT THERE YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!
You've never cum so hard in your entire life. Wow... Fucking just... wow....
But the afterglow doesn't last very long when you're straddling what looks like a bog-mummy made out of beef-jerky and plaster.
You roll off him into the passenger seat and notice that his shitty mummy crotch--just like the seat, the console, your skirt, your hand--is drenched and dripping with viscous black slime... Just like Mango's nightmare puke-shits. Except this stuff didn't ooze out of a sick cat's asshole... 
Well shit... If being sick with whatever the fuck this is can make you cum that fucking hard, you're not sure you ever wanna get well.
You dig around in Mummy Good-Teeth's pockets for the keys but they aren't there, so you shove him out the door. As soon as his body hits the pavement, it shatters into a cloud of white dust. Fuck, that's hot. You're horny as FUCK right now. Who knew death was such a fucking panty-soaker?
You climb into the driver's seat and press the ignition. The engine roars, which means the keys are around here somewhere. You check the glove box. Bingo. Right next to the knife. And something else. You pull out a sheet of paper, a flyer for some church event.
And there he is. 
The Good Ol' Rev's corny fucking headshot, right next to the official portrait of Governor George Burnett. 
DADDY-DAUGHTER PURITY BALL '19
With Very Special Guests, Your Rapist and The Fascist Prick Who Shut Down the Clinic.
It starts in 40 minutes, just ten miles away. 
"Fuck it," you say. "Let's party."
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