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beli jaket online: Today, I went to the beach with my kids. I found a sea shell and gave it to my 4 year old daughter and said "You can hear the ocean if you put this to your ear." She put the shell to her ear and screamed.There was a hermit crab inside and it pinched her ear. She never wants to go back! LoL I know this is completely off topic but I had to tell someone!

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Tuesday, July 3rd 2012

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Related article: From: lev0ellis.uchicago.edu (Ron Levy (Armchair))
Subject: Hilasko
Date: 24 Apr 91 22:42:00 GMT
Sender: newsmidway.uchicago.edu (NewsMistress)
The horse's hooves skittered for a moment on the thick crust of ice before
breaking through into the snow. It was a bitter, cold night to be outside the
dwellings of men, between the kingdoms of Vergas and Drur, but Hilasko had
no home now. His world had thrown him out. And though he had agreed to
his own carefully planned betrayal, still Hilasko seethed inside. Perhaps the
hot anger alone was the only thing that kept his blood from freezing solid. Days before, Hilasko had been the rising star of the Riverbend garrison.
He had climbed in mere months from a patrol leader to an officer of the
Pelaran free mercenaries. It was *her* doing, Hilasko reminded himself. She
planned his rise and engineered his fall. T'Pala was an officer of the Pelaran free mercenaries, the company of
warriors exiled from Pelara when Drur forcibly annexed the border territory
nine years previously. They served Vergas, Hilasko's kingdom, for pay and the
promise of some day recovering their homes. T'Pala was known for cold,
efficient cruelty, deadly feats of espionage, the swordsmanship of a master,
and the bitterness of a name taken from a village razed and burned years
before by the Drur invaders. preteen hot fotos She was also the only female warrior in the whole border garrison. Hilasko had given his freedom to T'Pala in exchange for power. That had
been the strange paradox of her service, that the greatest power was born of
submission. He had become the finest swordsman in the garrison only for her.
He had killed men in her name, both in battle and in secret, spied, invented,
mislead, and sent armies to victory or ruin as T'Pala chose. Hilasko had slept
at the foot of her bed and learned the strange terror and exaltation of kneeling
at her booted feet, feeling the burn of a leather strap on his back, then the kiss
of a blade teasing blood from his skin, then the kiss of her lips, and at last the
long-delayed orgasm. T'Pala was a bloodthirsty, but ultimately satisfying lover. Hilasko had been her slave. His only pleasure lollita preteen picks
had been that she notice
him, his terror that she send him away. Perhaps he had even loved her. That
love had destroyed glamour preteens him. T'Pala had secretly sent Hilasko to spy upon their mutual employer, the
Vergan military command. She had engineered his capture, indictment, and
conviction for treason. Before the entire army T'Pala had disowned Hilasko,
then overseen his punishment. They hung him up by the hands over the pit of Lord Melanion Hunter,
where the bodies of the slain were thrown as sacrifice, and whipped him until
the blood poured down. T'Pala had watched, but did not wield the preteen puffy pictures
whip
herself, and that was the worst of it for Hilasko. Afterwards he had had to
kneel and thank her for not hanging him by the neck. Destroying her own slave was not merely a whim of T'Pala's. She was
preparing him as bait for the Drur kingdom, sexy preteen calendars
Verga's opponent through thirteen
years of war. Soon enough Drur spies were making offers to the disgraced
Hilasko. He had shared the highest counsels of the military command, then
they cast him out. He had skill, contacts, and resentment. Would he change
sides? Hilasko, on T'Pala's order, agreed. The Drur believed his defection to be
genuine. Perhaps, he thought bitterly, they were right. Once over the border,
he had no harcore preteens particular reason to pretend loyalty to T'Pala. Like this borderland,
he belonged to no one. The snowed-over wilderness was the domain of Lord Melanion, hunter of
animals and men, master of the spaces between cities and ruler of the land of
the dead. Men could die there alone at night, but gothic preteens nude Hilasko had no choice. Still,
he wondered, wouldn't he rather have clung shivering to the inhospitable town
of Riverbend than travel on such a night? At least the snow had ceased before sunset. The sky was almost clear, with
shreds of clouds drifting like feathers across the full moon. Hilasko could see
almost as well as in full daylight. But not as well as the horse. Hilasko's bay gelding halted, staring apprehensively ahead, suddenly
immune to the prick of the spurs. Unsettled, Hilasko called a challenge.
There was no answer, not the slightest movement in the trees. He jerked the
reins, then reached forward to club the intransigent horse between the ears. The animal snorted angrily, then leapt sideways, dumping Hilasko off into
the snow. The crunch of hoofbeats retreated behind Hilasko as preteen pyssy his horse
returned to Riverbend without him. Hilasko pulled his face out of the snow and stared straight into preteen video samples the eyes of
a wolf. The animal was huge, easily outweighing Hilasko. Its pelt preteen forum interbook was thick and
black. The eyes that watched him were luminous, unearthly silver, and so
were the fangs and the tongue that lolled steaming from the beast's muzzle.
And then the wolf vanished. Hilasko shivered with reaction. He had expected to die in the in the instant
he saw the wolf, though death would come soon enough without the horse or
the fire-tools in the saddlebag. Maybe he had been lying in the snow all night,
and only then started to hallucinate. He climbed to his feet, feeling the melting
snow work its way into his clothes. Up ahead Hilasko saw a building. It was a small stronghold set up on a
slope, built of stone, and proof positive that Hilasko was indeed out of his
mind. It had not existed but a moment before. Yet he could smell the smoke
tumbling from the chimneys, so he decided to freeze to death in this
comforting hallucination. The outer gate stood open. The courtyard was empty and unlit. The
formidable wooden door swung open when he knocked harcore preteens upon it. Inside Hilasko
came to a hall with a roaring fireplace. There was a door at the far end, and a
long tapestry on one wall, depicting a hunt. The door swung shut behind him. "I glamour preteens am Hilasko," he called into the emptiness, "Once Hilasko vel Tregenis, the
last son of duke Harlisto vel Tregenis, once a patrol leader in the garrison of
the Verdan army, once an officer of the Pelaran free mercenaries, now a
nobody freezing on your doorstep. In the names of all the gods of hospitality, I
beg the shelter of your hearth!" "Welcome." The man had appeared in the disturbing manner of all things in this
hallucination: out of nowhere. His face was black, not the hue of human skin, but the color of darkness
under the trees. Or the color of a wolf-pelt. His hair like rain at night spilled
down to the middle of his back. He stood somewhat taller than Hilasko and
wore a plain, brown leather hunting costume with worn boots and a knife-belt
fashioned to look like a snake. His eyes were blank, luminescent silver, as
were the long nails of the hand he offered Hilasko. "You know my name." In the sagas, the gods could not say their own names. For this reason they
invented men. Hilasko took the silver-nailed hand in his own and knew he was not
dreaming. "My Lord Melanion Hunter." The god smiled. His teeth were silver, and pointed. "The gods of hospitality
would reproach me. You are cold, wet and most likely hungry." Hilasko found himself propelled towards the inner door. "A bath for you, and dry clothes. Then you will be served dinner." preteen pedo boys nude preteen shock The chamber seemed ordinary enough. There were rushes on the floor, a
smaller fireplace, and more tapestries on the stone walls. Behind a second
door Hilasko found the promised tub of steaming water, together with a jar of
sweet oil and several large towels. He soaked just long enough to warm his
aching bones, then dried himself and anointed his chapped skin hastily. Hilasko saw himself in the mirror. He was about twenty-five and well
muscled, even though he had scarcely eaten in days. T'Pala had thought him
pretty enough, and she'd had her pick. His thick, tawny mane of hair was
rubbed dry before the fire and combed with fingers. It would not do to keep a
god waiting for dinner. But then, Hilasko thought, most likely dinner, if not
the entire building, were for Hilasko's benefit only. Melanion was no creature
fond of roofs. There were clothes laid out preteen underage nudist on a chest when Hilasko returned to the
chamber. They were plain but well-made and fit exactly. The tunic was of
thick, soft silk and felt delicious against his skin. His old clothes, together
with his weapons, had vanished. A small table had been set up in the main hall. There were two chairs. A
hawk sat perched on the back of one. It glided up to the mantelpiece as
Hilasko approached and stared down at him with unwinking eyes. Hilasko
took a seat. Glancing up, he saw Melanion sitting across the table. "I wish you wouldn't do that," Hilasko said. Melanion laughed. Food appeared on the table. There were thick slices of some meat, bread, cheese, and a clay jug of wine. Hilasko speared a piece of meat on the small dinner knife and eyed it
suspiciously. "That is roast pork. I know, for I killed the pig myself. You needn't fear
feeding you unsavory flesh." Hilasko asked "Why are you doing this?" Melanion gestured towards the hearth. "You called on my hospitality." "No, you chose to appear to me." "I am present in all the woods, and everywhere men die. You were once
dedicated to me." "The Hunter of men," Hilasko mused, feeling the memory of the whip burn
his skin. "Do you hunt women as well?" The god's smile faded. "On preteen index directory occasion. Men are more interesting to me.
They fancy themselves rulers in this world. The stronger they are, the more
they are deluded, and the more fascinating the struggle. Still every one is
surprised that he can die. The women usually know better." preteen pyssy Power is submission to the inevitable. That was T'Pala's lesson. Hilasko
finished his meal in silence. Melanion rested his chin in his preteen pyssy
hands and watched, still wearing that
disturbing, serene smile. When Hilasko finally put his knife down, Lord
Melanion Hunter stood and gestured to a door that had just appeared in the
wall. "I fear there is but one bed in my home. Will you share it with me?" The
sagas were filled with tales of mortals who had shared the beds of gods and
then perished. And this was Melanion, eater of the corpses of the slain.
Hilasko remembered the brutal beating, received in the name of the god as he
hung over the sacrificial pit. To refuse would leave Hilasko out in the snow, at the mercy of wolves. His
choice was between being a willing sacrifice and a hunted beast. Hilasko had
lain face-down on the beds of soldiers while they made use preteen video samples of his body, and
played the victim of T'Pala's cruel and meticulously executed rapes. Surely the
god would prove no worse a lover. "I will share your bed," Hilasko answered, his voice trembling against his
will. Melanion fed the remaining pork to a large lynx that crawled out from
under the table, saving a scrap for the hawk, which snapped the thrown meat
out of mid air. The god's hand on Hilasko's elbow guided him to the bedchamber door.
Out of the corner of his eye, Hilasko saw the table vanish. The bedchamber was lit by several candles. Like the rest of the nude preteen shock rooms there
were no windows. The bed was a thick pile of animal pelts of all descriptions.
Then Hilasko could see nothing but the Hunter's eyes, set like jewelry in his
inhuman face, empty of iris or pupil. His scent, a musky aroma of animals,
greased and snow-dampened leather, dead leaves and growing pines, filled
Hilasko's nostrils. A silver-nailed hand tipped Hilasko's chin up. Almost he
turned his face away, nearly he fled from the immortal kiss. preteen puffy breasts Then Hilasko was
past choice. The lips covered his own. The silver teeth nipped at him, then Melanion's
tongue snaked playfully into Hilasko's mouth. The taste was incomparably
sweeter than the most honeyed wine. A slow burning intoxication spread from
Hilasko's mouth down through his stomach and out to the trembling tips of
his limbs. He cried softly and wrapped his arms around Melanion's
leatherclad preteen anal porn waist. The tongue probed deeper. The god's black hair tickled
Hilasko's neck. One knee parted his own, and a thigh pressed against his
heated crotch. Hilasko let himself sag into the arms that held him, rubbing himself against
the leg, trembling to the marrow of his melting bones. There was fear in him
still, but it had become merely another interesting sensation, slightly bitter,
pulsing somewhere under his ribs. "So eager," Melanion said, and let Hilasko fall back onto the bed. "Almost
too eager. I like the taste of sweat on my prey." He drew his knife. "I forged
this blade from a tooth of the oldest dragon. To touch the hilt would annihilate
your soul. I have killed animals with it, and men, and gods." The blade
flashed, parting Hilasko's tunic. The point stroked his neck, traced the old
scars left by T'Pala, and played with his nipples. preteen puffy breasts Hilasko moaned and bit his
lips. Gladly he would die at the hands of this divine lover. The knife point
pressed against preteen personals
Hilasko's nipple, drawing blood. Hilasko moaned again,
arching his back. young nudes preteens He never thought to resist, for in that moment he existed for
the pleasure of the god alone. "Clean it," Melanion said, touching Hilasko's lips with the knife. Hilasko licked at the blade, savoring the strange, metallic taste. It preteen strawberry models
twisted
suddenly, slicing his mouth. The Hunter kissed him again, this time lapping
the blood from his mouth. Melanion removed the rest of Hilasko's clothing with deft cuts of the knife.
Warm hands found sought out the ticklish places of his body, stroking
Hilasko's penis, which was so hard that it pained him. Melanion unfastened his belt, which proved to be a living snake. After
bestowing one lingering kiss sexy preteen calendars on Hilasko, Melanion turned him over on his face. Hilasko lay on the furs and felt the snake prison his wrist. It was a cool-
blooded creature, supple as a bullwhip. It stared at him with detached,
unblinking eyes. Its tongue flicked against his wrist. Snakes twined around
his other wrist and likewise his ankles, pulling tight until he could no longer
move, only breathe and feel. There was fear in him but no doubt. Desire made
him pant as Melanion stroked his back and spread buttocks. Melanion licked Hilasko's shoulder, and then bit just hard enough to draw
blood. The pain was an almost sweet sensation, submerged in the sexual heat.
He scarcely heard Melanion removing his hunting costume. The Hunter's unclothed body straddled Hilasko. "I have taken many a mortal to bed, but none so delicious as you. You
have a body a young stallion chid preteen could be proud of." Hilasko had all but ceased to breathe. The Hunter's hard, hot phallus
nudged between his bound legs. "You submit to my will as a proud horse does to the bridle." The shock of penetration, like a spear though his heart, made Hilasko cry
out. He pulled uselessly preteen underage porno at the snake-bonds, which tightened, stretching his
limbs even farther. Melanion's full weight pressed down on his back. A tongue
licked Hilasko's ears, neck, and shoulders in time with the long, slow thrusts.
It was too much to bear, to be thrust into and unable to move, not even to rub
his own neglected penis against the bed. The thrusts were coming faster, then
Melanion slowed teasingly. He pulled his phallus all the way out, then
plunged it back into the tight sexy preteen calendars
muscle of Hilasko's anus. The sweet, burning
heat at the base of Hilasko's spine spread through his body. One last, deep
thrust seemed nearly to shatter his bones. Melanion stopped, his body trembling. The teeth on Hilasko's neck became
the inch-long canines of a beast. Razorlike claws ripped into his back. Bound
and spread and terrified, Hilasko was mounted by a preteen personals beast, a wolf that cried out
like a man. Hilasko writhed and shook as his mortal body under preteen skirt absorbed the force
of Melanion's released passion. And then it was over. Melanion, in a man's form again, lay beside him,
licking at his wounded back. Aching and very much afraid of his demonic
lover, Hilasko wept into the furs. His penis had gone soft from the fear and the
pain. The bonds loosened just enough for Melanion to flip Hilasko over on his
back, then tightened again. "Other men have lost their minds when I took them so," The Hunter said.
"You only weep." His preteen girls bondage
hands deftly awakened Hilasko's penis. "You are strong,
yes, and now you will have the reward for your preteen video sampls submission." Melanion's black tongue licked at Hilasko's nipples. Fingers probed his
balls and gave his penis the softest touches. Hilasko surrendered to the
teasing, feeling Melanion stroke him close to the edge of orgasm, then leave his
twitching penis and stroke his chest, face, and bound limbs, over and over
again. Soon Hilasko was crying and begging uncontrollably. "Please," he said. Melanion smiled down at him. His hair brushed Hilasko's face as the god
kissed him once more. A hand closed around Hilasko's penis, while another
stroked his balls. Hilasko tried to scream as he came, but the sound was lost
into the mouth of the god. Fingers tapped Hilasko's lips. "Clean my hands." Still shaking, Hilasko sucked his cum off Melanion's fingers. He was not allowed to rest, for soon the Hunter was bringing Hilasko's
emptied, aching penis to attention again. "The night has just begun, my pet," said the god. Something pushed at Hilasko's shoulder. He was cold, he realized, but not
dangerously so. He blinked. It was daylight. Hilasko was lying on a pile of pine needles under a big old tree. He had
been awakened by the nudge of his horse. He proved to be wearing his own
clothes again. His weapons were there as well. But it had not been a dream or hallucination. The marks of the claws of
Lord Melanion Hunter still burned on Hilasko's back, and the sweet taste
lingered on his lips. Hilasko stretched, sighed. No matter what happened to him next, he had
been the lover of a god, and that was no small thing.--"Do not TAUNT Happy Fun Ball."

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