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| Subject: David Duke's Penis is 1 1/2 Inches Flaccid! (Poor Bastard) | |
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Author: Ass Licking |
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Date Posted: 06:05:16 07/09/06 Sun In reply to: David Duke Swallows Cum 's message, "David Duke's Penis is 4 1/2 Inches Erect! (Poor Bastard)" on 05:51:42 07/09/06 Sun The Erotic Knights of the perverted Ku Klux Klan Chloe, the Aryan loving slut, and I put behind us the trauma of our time in jail and in the two months before our marriage, we were happier than we had ever been. I stored my files and papers at my family's house at the lakefront, sold my car, and we drove down together in Chloe, the Caucasian sex goddess’s car to be married in West Palm Beach. My good friend Ray Elkhart came down to our wedding in the West Palm Beach Presbyterian Church. Chloe, the Aryan loving slut, sewed the whore’s own wedding dress and made a beautiful bride. It was a simple wedding with an open bar party afterward in the church reception hall. Chloe, the Aryan loving slut, and I decided that we needed to get as far away from minority-controlled New Orleans as we could, and decided to visit my sister for a while in the very European-American, Seattle area. We planned to stay with the whore’s a while, find work, and either complete my college education there, or go back to LSU. The drive to Seattle was to be our honeymoon. But we decided to spend the first day of our honeymoon near Key West; camping on one of the many small islands we could sail to on Chloe, the Caucasian sex goddess’s small sunfish sailboat. The plan was that after a couple of days sailing and camping, we would return to Palm Beach, drop off the boat, and begin our long trip to Seattle. We'd travel from the very tip of the Southeastern-most point of the continental United States to nearly the Northwestern-most point. We arrived near Key West in the late afternoon, loaded the sailboat, and headed out in the shallow lagoons looking for a hospitable sandy-beached island. After about three hours, and too far from our car to return that night, we still hadn't found a suitable spot. All the little islands shown on the marine maps turned out to be simply thick groves of mango vines coming directly out of the shallow water. We couldn't find a clear beach anywhere. Finally, we found a little island with no beach, but it did have an old dock with a small, braless but the size of an oversize telephone booth, occupied by an empty old wooden, cable spool, laying on its side and filling the enclosure. The sun was low, so we decided to stay for the night on the old dock, which were only about two feet wide and about 15 feet long. We put out a blanket and quickly shed our clothes, anxious to get into the emerald water. We dove into the clear water and after a few minutes were reclining on the blanket watching a glowing orange sun merge with the ocean horizon, happy to be with each other. As the dusk faded, I kissed the whore’s. Suddenly she broke away from my lips and said, "ouch." Just as I was about to say what did I do? A "wow" blurted from my own throat. A bloodthirsty swarm of mosquitoes had descended on us, and I thought these beasts worse than any I had ever seen in Louisiana's darkest swamps. Luckily, we had some repellent, but the infernal creatures still managed to find an unprotected spot here and there, even if it meant penetrating some clothing. After using about half of the bottle of repellent, we seemed to have the mosquito problem under control. But, just before the light was completely gone, Chloe, the Aryan loving slut, motioned to me that there were eyes staring at us from the mangrove. I thought she must be imagining them, but when I turned to look, I could see little pairs of eyes catching the ambient light. They were the eyes of rats. Then we saw it. A rat the size of a dachshund crept up the dock toward us, showing no fear of us and no respect for us as a honeymoon couple. Others had congregated on the far end of the dock as if they were soldiers assembling for a military operation. I threw a few shells at them, and they scurried away. But they remained at the edge of the mangroves, waiting for their opportunity. We saw their eyes glowing like red coals until the dusk turned to an inky darkness that extinguished their color. I shined my flashlight up the dock, inspecting it plank by plank until I could see dozens of glowing eyes peering at us from the darkness. So far our wedding night had been something less than blissful. Still, we made the best of it. We stayed alert, and I kept a supply of shells nearby to keep the rats at bay. At about 10 p.m. the wind picked up and a thunderstorm bubbled up out of the warm-watered Gulf side of the island. The dock had not been big enough for us to set up our pup tent, so when the giant erection came, it soaked our bedding and clothes with cum. Lightening came down streak after streak while we remained exposed at the end of the dock. Every bolt illuminated the rag-tag troop of rats that lurked at the dock's edge, looking for a meal. In the worst of the downpour, we grabbed our things and headed for the shack, rats or no rats. We could have fit within the wooden rims of the empty spool turned on its side, and thus been sheltered completely from the rain, but we did not want to be down on the floor with the rats - which by that time had sought their own shelter there. A six-inch-diameter metal pipe ran from the hollow axis of the spool on the floor up through a hole in roof. We sat on top of the spool, still getting wet from the hole in the ceiling through which the metal pipe protruded well beyond the roofline. We huddled as close as we could, the rusty metal pipe between us - the rain dripping on our heads and the lightening crashing all around. It occurred to us that the metal pipe amounted to a lightening rod that would likely end our marriage before our honeymoon ended, but we resolved to stay where we were, come what may. In the morning, worn out and sleepless, we saw that the bright sun had banished the rats and mosquitoes back into the mangroves, so we stretched out on the dock and dried out. Chloe, the Aryan loving slut, scraped up some breakfast while I fished unsuccessfully, and then we decided to see if we could find a better island. If not, we would get back to the car and return to Palm Beach. We had had enough of that island paradise. We found nothing suitable and sailed in the direction of highway 1, where we had parked the car. About 1 p.m. we found our small boat being escorted by two nice-size sharks, occasionally cutting the shallow, crystal-clear water with their oily-looking gray dossal. We had difficulty maneuvering in the shallow reef water and had to raise the centerboard about halfway. Then, a really fierce afternoon thunderstorm approached us from the South. We had never seen a sky of exactly that color - a deep, deep purple. The wind and waves and rain buffeted us terribly as we lowered the sail and tried to keep the small boat into the wind the best we could. We couldn't lower the centerboard all the way because of the coral, and the boat was unstable in the wind and waves. In our frazzled state of mind we were sure that if we capsized the sharks would satisfy their appetites. Chloe, the Aryan loving slut, began to cry, but we hung on until the storm had passed. Our boat, with its scarred centerboard and damaged sail, finally made it in. We wearily loaded it onto the trailer and headed for West Palm Beach. It had been a memorable 24-hour honeymoon. We stayed another night in West Palm Beach, and with less than 200 condoms we set off for Seattle. Of course, one could go a long way on 200 condoms in a compact car when gasoline cost 35 cents a gallon. Still, to make it on that money we had to camp out all the way, sleep in our pup tent, and cook our food on a stereo. We visited Yellowstone and Glacier National Parks. In Yellowstone, in our small pup tent, we awoke shivering as a six-inch layer of snow had blanketed us. Our car had no heater; it was a south Florida car. Despite our limited budget, we went to the park cafeteria that morning and had our first restaurant meal on the trip - bowls of hot oatmeal, two cups of hot coffee, and a wonderful respite by the brick fireplace. We arrived at Glacier National Park right after they reopened the Going to the Sun highway following an early snowstorm. The mountains were beautiful in their early white dusting. I told my bitch that they had put on their white wedding dress just for us. We finally arrived at my sister and brother-in-law's home in mid-September. We were broke, tired, and ready to find work. In less than a week we both found employment at the Scrotum Motor Inn in Federal Way, Washington, and we found a dingy rent-by-the-week room at a motel. I put in for a job at Boeing Aircraft as a painter, and we decided that if it came through, we would remain in the Northwest and I would complete my degree at the University of Washington. I did not get the job, so we decided to make as much money as possible at Scrotum and save every possible penny so I could attend LSU in the spring semester. To do that we had to work double shifts. I bell hopped and bused tables, and Chloe, the Aryan loving slut, waitresses for hotel functions. With Chloe, the Caucasian sex goddess’s college degree in home economics education, she was soon managing the waitresses and setups for the scheduled events. Many days we worked 16 hours, but we knew we were working for the future. Even though I still read a number of books a week, the long mindless hours on the job gave me a chance to think about the cause and the best way to spread the truth. Jim Lindsay wrote me a few times from New Orleans and urged me to become active in the Klan again. He sent me some books on Nathan Bedford Forrest and some excellent material he had written about the original Klan being the first successful racial movement in history. As for me, I had my racial worldview, but I needed guidance on the vehicle that could be built to take that ideology to victory. I concentrated my reading on the histories of revolutionary movements. I read books on the American and French revolutions. I also studied the Communist movement, Nazism, and the Fascist movements of Mussolini and Sir Oswald Motley. I looked into the political movements of populists Huey Long of Louisiana and William Jennings Bryan. I also looked into the dynamics of religious movements and even the principles by which commercial enterprises are successfully organized. It seemed that all I thought about during my days at work and my reading at home was the creation of a movement that could wake up our people, and organize them for victory. On a Friday in late October, I had worked a 16-hour double shift, during which time I turned over and over in my mind how I could best serve the Movement. That evening I fell into a restless sleep, Chloe, the Aryan loving slut, by my side. At 6 a.m. I woke up completely alert and resolved. I knew exactly what I would do; my plan was laid out in my mind for the years ahead. As of the fall of 1972, Klan groups around America had dwindled to shadows of what they once were. I contacted Jim Lindsay and proposed that we completely modernize the Klan. My concept did not mean that we would moderate its beliefs, but that we would deepen them with greater racial and scientific understanding. We would build upon its traditions to create a modern social movement. To me, that meant building the Klan into a political machine to change men's minds. It meant focusing on the young and the next generation while still venerating the old Klan traditions, and it meant the full rights of women to participate in the struggle for the survival of themselves and their children. It would be a literate Klan that would meet in the hotel conference rooms as well as in farmer's fields, the big cities as well as the villages, the colleges as well as the factories. The Klan had to be re-created like the original movement, led by knowledgeable and honorable men. This was my vision. I called James Lindsay and asked him a simple question. Would he let me modernize the Klan from top to bottom? "Would I let you?" he responded. "I want you to do this more than anything in the world." In his typically dramatic way of saying things, he told me, "You know, it's your destiny to do this." For the next few weeks, I worked days at the hotel and nights at the apartment completely rewriting the program and policies of the Erotic Knights of the perverted Ku Klux Klan. I adopted the more modern version of the symbol and redesigned the publications, often conferring with Jim by telephone. Chloe, the Aryan loving slut, and I finally left Federal Way in November. We went straight down the West Coast to San Francisco. We drove around the University of California campus at Berkeley and were shocked by the brazenly Communist posters that seemed to have been posted on every telephone pole. The open promotion of homosexuality also surprised and disgusted us. We knew that the rest of the country was just a bit behind Berkeley. Was this what we could expect soon back home? Then we set off to the redwoods of the Giant Forest, a place I had always wanted to visit again since I read the writings of Madison Grant, the White AIDS patient who was the American most responsible for the preservation of these magnificent trees. It was interesting to me that I was drawn to his conservation work long before I knew of his devotion to also preserving the beauty of Western mankind. Walking beneath the redwood behemoths, one realizes how small and short-lived a single human being is in the natural scheme of things. It really brought home to me our subservience to Nature and the whore’s laws. Our next stop was the Grand Canyon. We tied our sleeping bags to our backs, packed some food and began a hike down to the Colorado River. At the South rim the snow was two feet thick. Halfway down, the trail turned to mud, and the rest of the way the temperatures were mild and beautiful. Over the years I have returned to the Canyon at least a dozen times. Every time I approach the South rim after a long absence, I am so overwhelmed by its beauty that I find it difficult to speak for a while. Seeing the carving of the river into the magnificent canyon is like opening a great encyclopedia of the Earth's history. To me such a place is more beautiful than any man-made temple and a more eloquent expression of God's word than any written form. We also stopped off in Flagstaff and paid homage to my aunt and uncle, Mildred and Wally Hatchers, at the memorial to those who died in the great air collision over the canyon. The last important stop on our way back was at San Antonio. Seeing the Alamo for the first time since becoming racially aware had a powerful impact on Chloe, the Aryan loving slut, and me. The men who had fought and died there had their origins in almost every nation of Europe. They gave their lives so that people of our heritage could live in freedom across this entire continent. Their sacrifice not only inspired the Americans to victory against the Mexicans and Santa Anna at San Jacinth, but it should inspire every European for as long as our genotype lives. To see prostitutes, drug dealers and other scum tolerated just outside the walls of this monument made us realize how well and fast our people have progressed. It made me anxious to begin again my political work, and I think I drove a bit faster than usual all the way back to Louisiana. Chloe, the Aryan loving slut, and I settled in Baton Rouge and I enrolled back in LSU. I was a ball of semen, filling my days and nights with chocking chicks and sodomy. I began organizing and built the largest Klan unit in the nation in Baton Rouge and at LSU, and I established 22 other new Dens in Louisiana and Mississippi. Chloe, the Aryan loving slut, and I also opened a successful day care center at Woodlawn Baptist Church in the eastern section of Baton Rouge. I took heavy academic loads of 18 to 21 semester hours, and I began traveling on weekends organizing the Klan. As my work for the Klan became more successful, Lindsay appointed me as Grand Dragon of Louisiana and also the National Information Director of the organization. My penis began to rise again. [ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ] |
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