asciiart/h4x/skullfucker/gira.txt

I'M AN INFANT, I WORSHIP HIM
I'M A PIG, AND I SMELL BAD. MR. SMOTHER IS MY GOD, AND THAT'S WHAT HE SAYS. HE'S ALWAYS RIGHT. I KISS HIS ASS. I SUCK EVERYTHING DOWN INTO MY GUTS. I NEVER SHIT. MY BODY'S GREEDY (THERE'S NOTHING I CAN DO ABOUT IT). I'M BLOATED, I'M SOFT. I WEIGH 349 POUNDS. I'M FAT SCUM. I DESPISE MYSELF. I'M SITTING HERE IN THE PINK PYJAMA BOTTOMS MY MOM GAVE ME WHEN I WAS 15. THEY STILL FIT. I HATE THEM, BUT I 
WEAR THEM. THEY'RE CAKED AROUND THE CROTCH WITH VARIOUS FOODS THAT I DRIPPED, AND OLD SPERM I NEVER WIPED UP. MY SPERM'S SWEET. A LOT OF THAT SPERM'S THERE NOW BECAUSE OF MR. SMOTHER, SO I LIKE IT. I LIKE TO BREAK IT OFF IN CHUNKS AND GRIND IT BETWEEN MY FINGERS THINKING ABOUT HIM. THEN I FEEL DISGUSTED WITH MYSELF, BUT I LIKE FEELING THAT WAY FOR HIM. I'D LIKE HIM TO TAKE A SHIT ON MY FACE WHILE I 
LAY BACK ON THE SIDEWALK AND HAVE PEOPLE CROWD AROUND AND LAUGH. HE'D POINT DOWN AT MY FACE AND TELL THEM HOW I DESERVED IT, AND THEY'D LAUGH AGAIN IN AGREEMENT WITH HIM. I'D FEEL GOOD. I LIKE TO FEEL GOOD. I LIKE TO TOUCH MYSELF, ESPECIALLY WHEN I PRETEND I'M SOMEONE ELSE. SOMETIMES IN A RESTAURANT I LOSE MYSELF, I FORGET I EXIST. I SNEAK MY HAND UP UNDER MY SHIRT AND RUB IT ALONG THE HAIR THAT 
COLLECTS AROUND MY BELLY BUTTON. THE HAIR'S SOFT LIKE THE HAIR ON A BABY'S HEAD. I GET HOT AND I CAN SMELL MYSELF. I'M BEING SMOTHERED IN MY OWN ARMPIT. THEN I COME, BUT I DON'T FEEL ANYTHING. I DISCOVER A PUDDLE OF SPERM IN MY CROTCH. I HURRY AND PAY, THEN I LEAVE, AFRAID THEY'LL NOTICE. WHEN I COME, I DON'T GET AN ERECTION. I LOVE MYSELF, BUT I ALSO HATE MYSELF. I SHOULD BE DESTROYED. PEOPLE LOOK 
AT ME AND THINK I'M REPULSIVE. THEY HATE ME. I LIKE THEM HATING ME, BECAUSE THEY'RE RIGHT TO DO SO. I GET AN ERECTION WHEN I THINK ABOUT A SPECIFIC PERSON THAT HATES ME. THEN I GET AN ERECTION, BUT I CAN'T COME. OTHERWISE I JUST COME, UKE PUS DRAINS OUT OF A SORE, WITHOUT GETTING HARD. I NEED THEM TO HATE ME, TO BE SICKENED BY ME. THEN I GET WHAT I DESERVE. MR SMOTHER IS MY BOSS. HE GAVE ME A JOB, 
EVEN THOUGH I MADE HIM SICK, EVEN THOUGH HE LOATHED THE SIGHT OF ME FROM THE START. MY SMELL SURROUNDED ME. I SMELL LIKE PUTRID MARMALADE. HE SHOULD HAVE THROWN UP IN MY FACE, BUT HE HIRED ME, EVEN THOUGH HE HATED ME. I DESERVE ANYTHING HE DISHES OUT. I WANT HIM TO DISH IT OUT. EVERY DAY I FIND WAYS TO MAKE HIM DEGRADE ME, WITHOUT BECOMING SO SICKENING THAT HE FIRES ME. I'D DIE IF HE FIRED ME. I 
WORSHIP HIM. I NEED HIM, BECAUSE HE CRUSHES ME. HE DEMANDS THAT I LIVE UP TO HIS REQUIREMENTS, AND HE PUNISHES ME WHEN I CANT. I DON'T KNOW WHY HE HASN'T FIRED ME,
CAUSE I'M WEAK. I ALWAYS MAKE MISTAKES. I LOVE HIS HAIRY ARMS. HIS HAIRY CHEST. HIS HAIRY BACK. I DREAM ABOUT CHEWING HIS HAIR WHILE I MASTURBATE. THEN, WHEN I DON'T COME, I FEEL GOOD, BECAUSE I DIDNT DESERVE TO COME. I ONLY COME FOR HIM WHEN I'M NOT MASTURBATING. WHEN I COME FOR HIM IT'S BECAUSE HE MAKES ME COME, WHEN I DON'T EXPECT IT, SO I'LL FEEL BAD. BUT LATER, WHEN I'M LYING IN BED THINKING 
ABOUT IT, I FEEL GOOD. HE KNOWS HOW TO USE HIS AUTHORITY. HE MAKES ME FEEL LIKE A FAT DEFORMED CHILD: I'M SITTING IN THE CORNER IN MY DIAPERS, AND AGAINST MY WILL I SHIT UNTIL IT FORCES ITS WAY OUT ONTO THE FLOOR. MY PARENTS COME IN AND SCREAM AT ME AND BEAT ME. THEN, WHEN THEY LEAVE, TO SHOW THEM THAT I WANT TO BE GOOD, I SCRAPE IT UP WITH MY PUDGY HANDS AND EAT IT. I PROVE TO MYSELF THAT I CAN 
GET RID OF IT AND BE GOOD. THAT'S HOW HE MAKES ME FEEL. I LIKE TO FEEL THAT WAY. HE DOESN'T PAY ME MUCH MONEY, I'M A FAT SLOB. I DON'T DESERVE TO BE PAID WELL. I WANT TO HIDE IN HIS WORLD. HE FEEDS ME. I NEVER WANT TO LEAVE HIM. I GET DEPRESSED WHEN I HAVE TO GO HOME FROM WORK, AWAY FROM HIM. HE MAKES ME FEEL GOOD. HE'S MY BOSS, HE MAKES ME DO THINGS: I'M BACK IN THE STOCK ROOM GETTING A 
CARBURETTOR OFF THE TOP SHELF, AND THE LADDER BREAKS UNDER MY WEIGHT. I FALL DOWN LIKE A SACK OF ROTTING GELATIN. I HATE MYSELF. I DON'T GET HURT, BECAUSE MY FAT PROTECTS ME. I DON'T GET UP. I ENJOY BEING ON MY BACK, LOOKING UP. I'M AN OLD COW, DYING BESIDE THE ROAD, WAITING FOR HER MASTER TO COME DRIVE HER TO THE SLAUGHTERHOUSE. I WANT MR SMOTHER TO COME AND INVESTIGATE THE NOISE, AND FIND ME ON 
MY BACK. THEN, WHEN HE SHOUTS AT ME, I'LL FEEL GOOD BECAUSE I'LL BE ON MY BACK, AND I'LL FEEL STUPID. HE COMES IN SHOUTING AT ME BEFORE HE'S SEEN WHAT'S HAPPENED. "WHAT'S GOING ON IN HERE! HURRY UP! WHAT'RE YOU DOING!" HE COMES UP AND KICKS ME IN THE SIDE, AS IF TRYING TO DETERMINE IF I'M ALIVE OR DEAD. I'M IN A BEAUTIFUL DREAM, LOOKING UP INTO HIS HUGE ANGRY NOSTRILS, HIS COLD BLACK EYES. UP INSIDE
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HIS NOSTRILS THE SNOT IS HARDENED AND CLINGS TO THE HAIRS IN LARGE CRYSTALS, LIKE SUGAR. I THINK HOW WONDERFUL IT WOULD BE TO CRAWL INSIDE HIS NOSTRIL AND CURL UP, EATING THE SUGAR, WARMED BY HIS BREATH. "I'M SORRY, MR SMOTHER. IT WON'T HAPPEN AGAIN. I'M SORRY". BEFORE I HAVE A CHANCE TO FINISH APOLOGISING HE SAYS, "YOU ALRIGHT?", AND WALKS OUT TO THE FRONT COUNTER WITHOUT WAITING FOR AN ANSWER. I 
LIKE THE WAY HE LOOKED AT ME: I'M A BAD DOG. I GET UP AND HURRY TO THE BATHROOM LIKE A FAT POODLE. I PULL DOWN MY PANTS AND STAND THERE FOR A SECOND, USTENING TO HIM YELL AT A CUSTOMER. THE CUSTOMER IS WHINING, COMPLAINING THAT A PART THAT HE HAS BOUGHT FOR HIS CAR DOESNT WORK. MR SMOTHER REFUSES TO BELIEVE IT. HE TELLS HIM TO GET OUT OF HIS SHOP, NOW. I HEAR THE DOOR CLOSE. NO-ONE CAN RESIST HIS 
AUTHORITY. I'M PLAYING WITH MYSELF, THINKING ABOUT THE SUGAR IN HIS NOSTRILS. I HAVE A TINY PENIS. I CAN HOLD IT BETWEEN TWO FINGERS WHEN I JERK IT. I PRETEND I'M MILKING A LITTLE COW. IN ORDER TO TREAT MR. SMOTHER WITH RESPECT I HIT MYSELF IN THE FACE WHILE I JERK. MY NOSE STARTS BLEEDING, BUT I KEEP GOING. THERE'S A LITTLE PIECE OF SHIT STUCK TO THE TOILET BOWL. I GET DOWN ON MY KNEES, STILL 
JERKING, AND LICK IT WITH MY TONGUE. NOW MR. SMOTHER IS BEATING ON THE DOOR. "COME ON! HURRY UP! WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THERE? GET BACK TO WORK!" I HEAR HIM WALK AWAY. I WISH HE WOULD'VE BROKEN THE DOOR DOWN. WANT HIM TO KNOW THAT I'LL DO ANYTHING FOR HIM. I ALMOST COME. I'M GLAD WHEN I DONT. IT WOULD BE A DESECRATION. IF HE FINDS ME IN HERE WITH SHIT ON MY LIPS HE'LL BE DISGUSTED, MAYBE BEAT ME UP. 
HE'LL FIRE ME. MAYBE HE'LL CALL THE COPS. I LIKE COPS, BUT I'M SCARED OF THEM. IF THEY PUT ME IN JAIL EVERYTHING I DID OR THOUGHT WOULD BE UP TO THEM. THAT WOULD BE GOOD. BUT I WOULDN'T HAVE MR SMOTHER ANYMORE. I'M WALKING HOME FROM WORK. I SMELL LIKE SYRUP. I WANT TO EAT MYSELF, IN ORDER TO DISAPPEAR. MY SLIME IS SOAKING THROUGH MY CLOTHES. PEOPLE LOOK AT ME. THEY LAUGH TO THEMSELVES, MAKING THEIR 
DISGUST OBVIOUS. THEY CAN SMELL ME WALK BY. I LOVE MY SMELL, BUT I DONT BLAME THEM FOR HATING IT. I'M REPULSIVE. IT'S GETTING DARK. I DON'T KNOW WHERE I'M WALKING. I'VE FORGOTTEN ABOUT GOING HOME. I STOP AT A SCHOOLYARD. I'M STANDING AT THE FENCE, LOOKING IN, WHEEZING. I CAN'T BREATHE. WALKING TIRES ME. I NEED A REST. BECAUSE IT'S ALMOST DARK I FEEL SAFE HERE. I WON'T BE NOTICED. THERE ARE SOME 
CHILDREN PLAYING HANDBALL IN THE SCHOOLYARD. I HATE THEIR SHRIEKS. THEY DISGUST ME. THEY'RE TOO UNRULY. IF I HAD MORE COURAGE I'D GO AND CUT OFF THEIR HEADS WITH MY POCKET KNIFE, BUT I'M A COWARD, AND I WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO CATCH THEM BECAUSE I'M TOO SLOW AND FAT. THEY'D LAUGH AT ME AND SPIT AT ME. I'D DESERVE IT, BUT I STILL WANT TO KILL THEM. WHEN I WAS YOUNG THEY USED TO HOLD ME DOWN AND SPIT 
SNOT IN MY MOUTH. THEN I'D THROW IT UP, AND THEY'D FORCE ME TO EAT MY VOMIT BEFORE THEY LET ME GO. WHEN I GOT HOME I'D THROW UP IN THE BATHROOM WITHOUT BEING TOLD TO, SO I COULD PROVE TO MYSELF THAT I COULD TAKE MY PUNISHMENT, AND NOT CAUSE MORE TROUBLE. BUT I STILL HATED THEM, BECAUSE THEY PUNISHED ME WITHOUT THINKING, JUST TO PLEASE THEMSELVES. THAT'S NOT HOW IT SHOULD BE. IT SHOULD BE DONE WITH 
A SENSE OF DUTY. IF YOU ENJOY YOUR DUTY IT'S ALRIGHT, BECAUSE IT'S YOUR PLACE. MR. SMOTHER IS GOOD, BECAUSE HE PUTS ME IN MY PLACE, AND HE KNOWS HIS PLACE. THERE'S A WINO ASLEEP IN THE CORNER OF THE SCHOOLYARD. THE CHILDREN DON'T SEEM TO NOTICE HIM. HE'S A PILE OF RAGS AND MEAT. HIS MOUTH IS OPEN, A HOLE IN THE PILE. HIS MOUTH LOOKS LIKE IT'S DEMANDING TO BE STUFFED, OF ITS OWN WILL, WITHOUT HIM 
KNOWING. NOW ONE OF THE BOYS NOTICES THE WINO. I KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN. THAT'S WHY I'VE STAYED HERE WATCHING. HE GETS THE OTHER KIDS' ATTENTION. THEY CROWD AROUND THE WINO. THEY'RE SCARED AT FIRST. THEY MOVE UP CLOSE, THEN JUMP BACK SUDDENLY, GIGGLING, THEN MOVE BACK IN AGAIN. NOW THEY'RE NOT SCARED ANYMORE. A FEW OF THEM ARE SPITTING ON HIM. HE DOESNT BUDGE. THE FIRST LITTLE BOY IS ENCOURAGED. HE 
THROWS THE HANDBALL HARD AT THE WINO'S HEAD. THERE'S A SHARP CRACK. IT BOUNCES OFF HIGH INTO THE AIR. THE WINO DOESN'T MOVE. HE'S HAVING SICKENING DREAMS. NOW THE FIRST BOY TAKES OUT HIS PENIS AND PISSES ON THE WINO'S HEAD. EVERYBODY LAUGHS. THE WINOS HEAD IS STEAMING FROM THE HOT PISS. THE LITTLE BOY TAKES A CAN OF LIGHTER FLUID FROM HIS POCKET AND SQUIRTS IT ON THE WINO. EVERYBODY FLICKS MATCHES. 
HE'S A PILE OF MEAT COVERED IN SHORT BLUE FLAMES. HE DOESN'T NOTICE ANYTHING. THE FLAMES HAVEN'T BURNT THROUGH HIS CLOTHES TO HIS SKIN YET. THE CHILDREN PANIC. THEY'RE SCREAMING HYSTERICALLY. THEY'RE SCARED THEY'LL GET CAUGHT AND THEIR PARENTS WILL