Part I
This story is dedicated to Spartố, who we all hate.

Kirtaner thrusted his pike furiously and vigorously, the cruel long and thin shaft disregarding any impediment as it stabbed directly at Spartố's unwilling cervix. With the initial shock of the spear hitting that precious portion of her anatomy, Spartố gave a start, and screaming struggled forward and succeeded in bashing her head against the stone wall in front. The rack she was in was specially designed to only permit her to either move slightly forward and hit her head on the cold and unforgiving perimeter, or move backward and facilitate Kirtaner's relentless pounding of her unprotected cervix. She tried to hold back and take it, but each strike to those sensitive nerve endings sent her flying forward into the granite barrier, now bloody from all the impacts. She couldn't prop her head up against the wall either as there was nothing holding her back and she ended up bashing her face into rough surface, making the most delightful gasps of pain as her nose broke and her skin scraped on the wall. Kirtaner began thrusting harder and harder, she was now beginning to loose consciousness due to the repeated blows to the head, each time letting out a little sob that seemed to get lower and lower. Dark rivulets of blood flowed from the inner depths of her pussy.

At length she lost consciousness and Kirtaner took this time to inspect his handiwork, taking out a vaginal speculum for this very purpose. Spartố's cervix was bleeding profusely, but close inspection revealed it had not been penetrated. Kirtaner made a mental note to remedy the situation when she would be conscious enough to feel it. As it was clear that Spartố was out cold, possibly due to a concussion, Kirtaner looked at the clock. She had made it, it was 3.40 in the morning and she had taken a hefty amount of punishment in 24 hours. In fact she had exceeded 24 hours by a good 8 hours including the 2 on the rack, but he did not mind taking a few liberties considering that Spartố was apparently disorientated enough not to notice (not that the rack would have let her move her head enough to see the time anyway).

As she was unconscious, Kirtaner decided to play a little trick on Spartố and got out an assortment of dildos and S&M paraphernalia that he had acquired for just such an occasion. Although his time was up, she wasn't in any position to object, and once she awoke he would do nothing to impede her escape. Spartố was moved to a closet specially designed for this purpose. First things first, Spartố's mouth must be kept shut. Kirtaner callously threaded an oxygen tube through her nose so that she would not asphyxiate, and made sure it had a lot of slack. Once the oxygen was in place, he shoved between her limp little lips a massive dong with a form fitting base that would to for a gag. He rammed the dildo the entire length of her throat and strapped the end down so that it would both stay in, and not fall too far inside of her.

Then Kirtaner moved on to the other holes that demanded attention. The smaller holes would go first, because the pressure would make it impossible to fit them in later. Her ass was penetrated with a specially crafted butt plug that was extremely large on the inside. It was an inflatable butt plug that once the entire length was inserted into the extremes of her colon would be filled with air until her ass was at capacity. Kirtaner liked the way Spartố's tight asshole looked from the outside, so he spared the actual opening from devastation by providing that only the thinnest part actually extended through the sphincter itself. Part of the design features were that if pressure is put on it, the excess air deforms the dong in a forward direction that will unfold it further into her uncharted depths for as far as the air pressure will carry it. As the butt plug was much larger on the inside, Kirtaner had no fear that it would slip out, and anticipated much frustration on Spartố's part in removing it.

Now he prepared the plug to go into her urethra. For this he produced a comparatively small plug that had special spikes on the sides for extra stimulation. It was a tight fit but he eventually forced it into her bladder. This one was held on by a strap, as it was the smallest and could most easily inadvertently slip out. A trickle of blood and urine oozed out in between the plug and the hole. Spartố stirred a little betraying an uneasiness in her slumber.

Finally for her pussy he utilized a massive dong that most closely resembled an orange construction cone, it was much wider on the bottom than it was on the top. He had deliberately chosen the length to be somewhat longer than her legs, so that her beaten cervix would have to hold back its remorseless advance as she could not hold herself up of her own volition. Spartố's wrists were shackled to a bar that held her up by her arms. The bar was crafted so that the end curved sharply upward, entailing that if Spartố wished to escape it she would have to somehow lift her shackled wrists above it, difficult to do considering her predicament. Lastly a blindfold was placed over her eyes.

Kirtaner then admired his handiwork, and observed with pleasure that in her crevice gagged as she was, no one would hear her scream. His work thus accomplished he set off to have a long smoke. However by a combination of hallucinogens and internets he managed to forget all about the fact that she was in there. It was only a week later that he was reminded of what he had done that night, and it is probable had not been for his mother entering the closet to dust, Spartố would have probably stayed in there indefinitely. Spartố barely survived the experience, notwithstanding the lack of food and water for an entire week, her urinary tract had burst and poisoned her organs. She had to be rushed to the hospital. But Cottle did not mind, although hospitals are supposed to report such things as domestic abuse, he had certain assurances of reticence on their part. Had they done their jobs, they could expect a lifetime supply of pizza, dongs, Scientologists, boxes and Korans. None were so brave.

Of more importance however, was the fact that Kirtaner, now Aubrey Cottle, in his drug induced haze forgot to turn on the video feed, which he had intended to record for future use. The lack of the unbelievably sexy video it must have been necessitated that the entire episode would have to be redone the next time around, and he'd have to change it up too to keep her from figuring it out.

However Aubrey was somewhat gratified by the forensic analysis that he undertook combined with the official medical report he received with blank stares at the hospital.
From these pieces of evidence he construed a plausible account of what happened, this being necessitated by the fact that Spartố was in shock for much of it and remembered little.
Spartố true to herself did not passively take her predicament, feeling with her fingers the bar above her. Apparently she had used her feet to prop herself up on the oily cone, despite the discomfort involved with using her legs when all of her holes were filled to the brim. She could only jump up for brief amounts of time, and each time she missed, she slammed down hard onto the her wrists and cervix. Eventually she had managed to clear the bar, but fell down hard on the cone impaling herself by her sheer weight the onto the massive device. It did much good to his heart to find out that it was either the force of this impact, or a later one that broke her cervical barrier and allowed the cone to extend to the full limits of her reproductive system. What he could not accomplish with his own cock, he had done via proxy. Sadly however he had no video to document it.

After her cervix broke there wasn't much sign of activity, at that point she seemed to have lost most her will to fight, the anti shock injections that she gives herself at the beginning of every session having long worn off by then. Aubrey could not tell what she did from there, though there were marks along the walls suggesting that she had explored the perimeter with her still shackled hands and found the slick surfaces to be impossible to use to move herself higher, even as they were too close to allow her to shift her weight. The best she could do was to try to lean on one of them, hampered by the fact that every movement caused the tube in her bowels to expand or contract. It was in this state that she pretty much remained until she was found a week later.

An ill informed hospital staffer had briefed Mr. Cottle, with a look of abject concern and regret, that Spartố would need major reconstructive surgery in order to restore her to a state attractive enough to be fuckable, and that only be at prohibitive expense. At this he nearly blew his top, “What the Hell are the moralfags paying for?” Aubrey waved his hand impatiently in the man's face, “Just get her ready by the end of the month.”

What the hospital staffer did not know was that despite his pothead appearance, Aubrey had recently come into quite a large sum of money as part of the culmination of years of planning. Project Chanology was meant to be the holy grail of scams and was supposed to solve all funding problems for the *chans for all time. Basically it takes advantage of the fact that moralfags, the people most likely to donate money are yet the people least likely to be found on 420chan. The system works beautifully moralfags deposit their checks, their ip is logged and they are banned from all legitimate chans, and they stay on enturbulation, where the Partyvan Psyops Division feeds them propaganda meant to lubricate the flow of money. This isn't as hard as it sounds as Anons have raided Scientology since the olden days, and shooping Guy Fawkes masks into the old videos of Raptor Jesus Vs Scientology, seems to fool them.

Chanology also has a double side, the Church of Scientology sends Kirtaner a check with the understanding that as an Anonymous leader of high standing he would no doubt be instrumental in holding the belligerent legions in check. As a bonus, if there could be anything else more profitable, once the moralfags stop paying, their dox is delivered to the Scilons who pay hefty bounties for the information and work swiftly and efficiently to make sure that the troublesome moralfags no longer bother anyone.

Part II

It was that time of month again, the one day every 4 weeks or so that Aubrey Cottle was the undisputed lord of his castle. During the intervals between that time Spartố would act like her regular domineering self, sometimes even walking around with a large strap on and reaming Aubrey's pale white shaved asshole with its brutal length whenever she liked. She tended to think of herself as a dominatrix, and was as much of a bitch in real life as she was online. But lately her haughty manner had toned down somewhat, it was only a few days before the first Saturday of the month, and Spartố was filled with apprehension as to what her next treatment would be.

Mild mannered Aubrey Cottle by day, and the ruthless Kirtaner by night, the infamous owner of 420chan also looked forward to Saturday. For one thing he never much liked cat macros, and he was loathe to admit that he still browsed 4chan. However he was driven to lurk on /b/ on account of his obsessive compulsion, for which not even his frequent self medication could entirely cope. But this was a day that would draw his attention away from the stale pictures of feline antics, the one thing that he would not miss for anything, not even his mother being raped by angry niggers on her way home from work, which was never too extraordinary a possibility considering Canada's liberal immigration policy. Whenever he undertook to fuck Spartố over for being the damned bitch she was, he became his alter ego, the callous and unfeeling Kirtaner.

The terms of the contract that Spartố had signed with her mother's own clitoridectomy blood gave him this liberty in exchange for his toleration of her arrogant manner, but more importantly and something very dear to her heart, was Admin status at 420chan. This was the golden carrot that dangled before her and not only held her to her duty on the first Saturday of every month, but also enforced moderation in her own exploits, as she knew who really held the cards here.

The rules are simple. The day officially begins when Kirtaner first opens his eyes in the morning, and ends when 24 hours have passed, not counting hours either of them are unconscious, or when Kirtaner is absurdly high. Or whenever he doesn't want them to. During that time Kirtaner does whatever is to his pleasure, and his unfortunate slave has to obey his every whim.

Kirtaner had refined the act of punishing Spartố to a fine art, and he had especially cruel plans this time round. Spartố had suffered much through his perverse acts, and he looked back at them fondly. Whether it was his cutting open her milky white breasts to insert his cock into the folds, or accidentally leaving her for weeks in a excruciating positions, Spartố had slowly realized her own powerlessness to resist.

Aubrey looked back to the previous months conquest, and thought of Kirtaner's works filled him with an obsession to outdo the previous exploit. Last month he had put Spartố into a rack so she was bent over with her head to the wall, and then got down to some good ole fucking. His penis had performed admirably, but there were some shortcomings that he had in mind to address.

Now Aubrey's (now Kirtaner) cock is brutally long and thin. Though he lacks circumference, the long and thin shaft served him well, and as a bonus feature, due to the thinness of his penis, Spartố was frustrated in her hopes to obtain pleasure from the situation. Only he deserved to be pleasured on that day.

Aubrey replayed last months events in his mind, though careful not to fap as he was saving his cum for a special occasion. He had a special surprise in store, a week before his on and off best friend Moot sent him a package of illegal Mexican male enhancements pills. These hard sought after supplements brought about the most amazing increases in penis size of any male enhancement known to man, breaking the record of the ancient Chinese practice of transplanting an amputated horse cock, the effectiveness of which Kirtaner had not wished to ascertain. The drug itself does not have too many directly harmful side effects, except for some heart related disorders that only seem affect the terminally old. The major problem is that it increases the natural sadistic tendencies of the user to maniacal levels. Numerous girls were raped to death during clinical trials, the shitstorm surrounding which seriously limited its mainstream acceptance in most industrialized countries with the notable but not unusual exception of Japan. Kirtaner resolved to reward Moot by refraining from signing up to create new habbo raid alts using moot@4chan.org as his email and especially to stop checking the box labeled, “check here to receive habbo related advertisements.”


Spartố was prepared this time however, she had a master plan to dull his sadistic urges. Giving herself the customary anti shock injections, Spartố rehearsed her actions on a banana while they took time to kick in. Then she moved over to where Kirtaner lay, dozing, it was dawn on the first Saturday of the month. Her plan was elaborate, it involved crawling up to him slowly and sexily and sucking his cock until he awoke. At the moment that Kirtaner would awake, the first thing he would see would be his little slave Spartố gazing lovingly at him while choking the entire length of his dick down her throat. If she could pull this off she hoped that such a display of affection would endear him to her and cause Kirtaner to even if were only subconsciously, be gentler towards her.

Spartố was always one to overrate her seductive qualities, while she could make men want to violently fuck her, that was about it. Kirtaner would have never been fooled by her display, though it probably amused him that she would try.

As she sucked on his shaft, she throated it without a thought as it approached the size it normally reached. Spartố looked up, disappointed as Kirtaner still slept. She tried to wake him by fucking the shaft with her throat but it got harder and harder to do so. As Spartố forced the entire bloated length down her throat she gagged, it had never been this long before, but of more immediate concern to her was that it had Never before been this thick. It had expanded until her entire throat was filled by its size, and she felt it compressing on her windpipe, she could not breathe.

She could not move, frozen by the sudden fear that his shaft would take her entire throat with it. At that moment she saw his eyes begin to open and the faint outlines of a grin that had so far been held in but was now bursting forth. Their gaze met and her faint hopes were dashed irrevocably. Instead of a fawningly submissive adoring gaze, her eyes betrayed the one thing which they never should have betrayed. Fear. Fear which would serve only to make him harder.

Kirtaner was enjoying himself thoroughly. Her countenance had been so swiftly broken, a new record, and the day had just begun. The look of anguish in Spartố's eyes had sent a massive rush of blood into his distended erection, and he took pleasure in watching her gurgle as she struggled to cope with his newfound girth.

Her eyes looked wildly at him, already she could hear popping sounds as the delicate little framework of her throat cracked apart, and she had not drawn breath for at least a minute. Kirtaner genuinely pondered whether he should continue in this manner, as there was no real danger, he had plenty of oxygen tubing to temporarily replace her wind pipe for the time being if the massive expansion of his cock should inadvertently crush it. Of more concern to him was the fact that such a process would inevitably mute her, which under normal circumstances would not be unwelcome, but he would miss hearing her whimper and scream and he felt she hadn't done enough of it today.

It was part of his overall character, he expected the absolute best experience from every situation. It was this mentality which made him acquire all three of the current generation of video game consoles . To not be able to hear the pitiful noises Spartố would make would be like playing without sound. Absolutely inconceivable for a man who had recently invested in a home theater surround sound system. He would try to leave her windpipe more or less intact for the time being.

As her mute gesticulations became more and more frantic he decided he tired of this GAME, and gathered his energies for one final thrust. He threw her down on the ground and propped her perpendicular to the rest of the earth to get better leverage. The entire length of his shaft plunged to the full extent of her esophagus and slammed the bottom of her stomach with meteoric force times 10. Her entire body heaved, her back arching and expanding her chest forward and pushing her tits outward. Spartố's natural reflexes were to flail madly outward but he held her down with an iron grip. For several moments of eternity he unloaded a massive explosion of sperm, pumping her stomach to capacity. By this time her pale face had turned a violent shade of purple and he finally withdrew, deliberately slow to cause her the most consternation, little spurts of cum jettisoning out as his cock receded.. As he left ground zero Spartố gasped for a few milliseconds of precious oxygen until being cut short by a veritable volcano of vomit that welled up from her depths. She vomited almost continuously and Kirtaner chuckled to himself wondering if she was going to choke on her own puke. Whether it was the injection or merely a strong will to live, she managed to hold on, grabbing every last bit of oxygen in the brutally short intervals between upsurges of upchuck, taking advantage of the flow outward to exhale. Kirtaner almost came from watching, it was a delightful sight to see Spartố draining her strength battling the functions of her own body as they so cruelly betrayed her.

It intrigued him to observe the contents of the rapidly expanding pool of vomit, Spartố had taken careful preparations in the days immediately preceding to eat absolutely nothing in anticipation of gagging on Kirtaner's well endowed manhood. Unfortunately for her the massive sperm injection he had just so gratuitously provided gave substance to her stomach contents, and she spew up a gross mixture of cum and bile. As it happened in her desperate efforts to stay alive and conscious Spartố neglected her aim and some of it splashed on Kirtaner's right foot.

Enraged by the disgusting slop that had defiled his saintly white complexion and stained his bedclothes, Kirtaner aimed a furious blow at the dirty blonde bitch, knocking out several of her front teeth with the balls of his southernmost extremity and knocking her backwards sputtering against the wall to crack her head on the cold stone barrier. Immediately he conceived of how this was not the most profitable venture, as immediately his entire leg was now covered in a disgusting slime now mixed with blood. He would have to wash up, but he did not want to leave Spartố alone for even a moment, for fear that he would miss something violently erotic. Deftly Kirtaner stepped around the puddles of filth on the floor to make his way to where Spartố lay, drowning in her own vomit. Making bold determined movements, Kirtaner slapped Spartố awake with one hand while holding open her eyes with the other as he pissed into them.

After treating her to a golden awakening, Kirtaner dragged the despicable whore to her knees, being careful to keep her head pointed away from him at all times, and bade her follow him. He then casually made his way to the shower, walking backwards so he could observe her crawling after him, still spitting up copious amounts of vomit and blood.

At length he arrived in the bathroom where he proceeded to luxuriate in a hot steamy shower, throwing his soiled clothes on the floor for his mother to pick up. The bathroom like most of the rooms in the residence was filthy. This would to most appear a contradiction to Kirtaner's conceivably aesthetic qualities, but he was a man of the most appealing philosophy. Kirtaner expected the best, but with the least amount of effort required of his own person to do so. Cleaning the bathroom is his mother's job, he doesn't worry about it.

As Kirtaner gazed dazedly around, having lit himself a blunt, he spotted a patch of black filth around the base of the toilet. Kirtaner was one of those men that tends to miss a lot so there was an eternal piss puddle around the shitter which was conducive to the growth of a lot of disgusting black mold. In his expanded state of mind he must have thought it resembled shit or something befitting the first Saturday of the month, as he presently ordered her to lick it clean. While musing over his latest exploit he flipped on the ventilation system in order to suck away all his exhalations and prevent the sweet smoke from reaching the wretch now working diligently to clean his toilet inside and out with her tongue, thinking perhaps to gain some goodwill by staying several steps ahead of her lord and master. It pleased Kirtaner to think what an efficient little slave he had made out of Spartố, as she had long since realized that delaying tactics only make him angry. Her strong work ethic was duly noted, but he would on no account show her any mercy today, keeping in mind the obviously selfish motivations of such actions on her part.

Kirtaner was sufficiently high now to momentarily break his concentration to look at the fan attached the the wall, ever blowing outward what must now be a steady stream of pleasurable smoke. Two things he wondered at this juncture, firstly, whether or not the bums in the alleyway below were crowding around for a free hit, and whether or not the fan, which opened a free path for air to leave the seal of the premises allowed the vagrants below to hear his actions above. Kirtaner thought the various gross denizens of the street were simple thieves, obtaining without charge pornography for which an equivalent was surely on fire sale at the internets. During this time he had enough semblance of conscious thought remaining to order Spartố, to avail her anus of the large and thick qualities of a nearby lamp stand even as she ate the accumulated filth of years off of his toilet..

At this moment a most unwelcome disturbance shook him from his stupor, though perhaps for the best as he had wasted a good 8 minutes. A police loudspeaker loudly told him to GTFO from the building. Kirtaner casually flicked the remains of his blunt out the window where a crowd of bums pounced on it, each fighting for the chance to dispose of the evidence in the most efficient manner.

He then hurried to the door, with Spartố hot on his heels with a large now lit lamp protruding from her posterior to light the way. She struggled to keep up, not daring to lift her head higher than his knees stood, the coarse surface of the rug scrubbing away the remains of the puke and chafing her delicate feminine protuberances a pretty pink. Deliberately he strode out of entrance into the blaring sirens outside, his massive cock curving sharply upward erect in defiance and silhouetted against the brightly burning flame in Spartố's asshole.

The ill prepared policemen were frightened beyond belief by the sight of an apparently drug crazed punk haired pale demon glowing with the fires of hell and brandishing an immensely menacing blood covered phallus into the air as if to make a mad rush towards them and drown himself in rivers of their blood that he savagely beat out of his opponents after having brutally slaughtered the occupants of the home with the appallingly enormous schlong. They would have surely fired on the /i/nsurgent demigod had not Aubrey's mother come home from her night job arms full of groceries from the 24 - 7 convenience store. What followed can only be described in the words of the actual participants.

“OH MY FUCKING GOD WHAT IS THAT HES COMING RIGHT FOR US.

Drop your weapon I repeat. Drop your FUCKING weapon.

I wont ask you one more time this is your

last warning. AAAH FUCK DROP your weapon. Drop them.

NOW. Looks like we got a psycho. Prepare to

fire. “

Enter mother,

“DONT SHOOT, pleaase don't shoot, those are his testicles, HIS TESTICLES.”

Neighbor lady hurries over,

“DONT hurt him, the poor boy we know him”

After a while the whole dreadful mess was sorted out and the thoroughly worked up family settled down for the night, cheerfully mindful of the fact that the whole thing was just the a minor Swatting prank, pulled off by an amateur phreaker from Austria or some shit.

As they settled down to bed, Spartố, loud and talkative as ever, piped up, “Well, wasn't that a fun filled day.”

Seeing her thinking Kirtaner looked the least appreciated 420chan admin in history dead in the eye and said,

“You still have 23 and half hours to go bitch.”