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On Bulbus Rak (Altura 158), Planet of Walking Tits, women crawl on their bellies like reptiles, cobra-fast and whisper-quiet, pulled along by their muscular leathery teats. Me interplanetary bounty hunter, so when I raided the Hungry Hula I was prepared. I yelled, ‘Freeze!’, & I fully expected the ladies to scatter and the manfolk to flop helplessly on their bellies; they had not yet developed the required prehensile nipple strength. They had been piggy-backed there by their ‘bitches’. Their tiny peenies traced disturbing trails in the powdery red dust. I spotted the perp, pecs flaring, GaGonga 5. Her basketball-sized, steel-cleated brass-tipped boobies stood out like a red Ferrari at a Hyundai rally. I, being only human, retained my ability to walk upright on my hind legs. She was under arrest. But she got away, GaGonga. She racked up a few more felony manslaughter charges, mangling here, smothering there, leaving a blood smear down the alley. Tracked her with Nokkerhounds, cornered her in a dark, dead-end cul de sac, hot & sweaty tubers glistening. “These boobs are made for walkin’”, she whispered. And that’s just what they did. I watched her go. I gave a look to the lead Nokkerhound and they tore her tits to shreds.
Date Written: May 25, 2006
Author: Master Bates
Average Vote: 4.5