Author Topic: Stanley the Retarded Hunchback  (Read 3220 times)

Mesozoic Mister Nigel

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Stanley the Retarded Hunchback
« on: February 25, 2008, 08:32:21 pm »
I apologize in advance for this. You may wish to not read it: it is pornographic and not very nice.

The Adventures of Stanley the Retarded Hunchback
Part One: Stanley Gets Laid

Stanley drooled. He drooled all the time, pretty much, but today he drooled because he was thinking really hard. He was thinking about what he would do when he finished mopping the long, shiny hallway floor of the institution in which he should have lived, but didn't by virtue of his mother having a lot of money. His mother had set him up in a small apartment just a few blocks from the institution, and instead of living there he worked there, mopping floors, emptying garbages, and doing other menial labor that was impossible for even a total moron like him to fuck up. He got the job because his mother was a heavy funder of the institution and she threatened to withhold her sizable quarterly donation check if they didn't find her boy some kind of work to keep him occupied. Stanley was thirty-six, but he could never remember that.

So now Stanley was trying to figure out whether it would take him a long time to finish the hall floor, and what he would do afterwards. This was a challenging process, and a thick rivulet of spittle ran down from the corner of his mouth and hung off his chin, dripping now and then, and slowly swaying back and forth with the motion of Stanley's mop-pushing.

"Oh Stan..." he heard the dulcet croon behind him, and immediately snapped to attention, holding his mop upright like a Lambada partner and whirling around to face the speaker. She was Elsie Hobbs, the crowlike middle-aged supervisor of the institution.

"Yesh Miss Hobbs" he slurred wetly.

"I was just wondering if you could take a minute out to come clean my office windows. They're awfully dirty" she murmured silkily. If Stanley had been capable of much reason, he would have realized that they couldn't possibly be dirty, since he'd just washed them four days ago. But Stanley had the mental capacity of a Golden Retriever and that point didn't occur to him.

"Yesh Miss Hobbs" he slurred wetly.

Dropping his mop into the greasy grey lukewarm water in his bucket, he followed her  through the twisting halls to her office, where she closed the door behind them and handed him a small white bucket full of steaming water and a large, soft sponge.
"Before you start on the windows, Stanley, I want to ask you a little, teeny favor" she crooned invitingly.

"Yesh Miss Hobbs" he slurred wetly.

"Can you keep a secret? I mean, if we... if you and I did something together, you wouldn't ever tell anybody, would you?"

"Yesh Miss Hobbs" he slurred wetly.

Stanley never told any secrets because Stanley was barely smarter than a doorknob.

With a sharp intake of breath through her thin dry lips, she began an outpouring of passionate words that were lost on her companion. "You see Stanley, I've always dreamed of having a retarded hunchback... I want you to spongebathe me, Stanley, I want you to wash every part of my body with that sponge, and then I want to show you things you've never dreamed of, things that will change your entire world. Let me have you, Stanley, let me be your bride of passion, let me show you what I know I can do for you!"

"Yesh Miss Hobbs" he slurred wetly.

Trembling with excitement, she shrugged out of her charcoal-grey jacket and unbuttoned her crisp white shirt, revealing a lacy black bra which contained two small flat wallet-like breasts. She quickly stripped naked, revealing to Stanley a body as crow-like as one might have assumed it to be if one had ever thought about it. Stanley hadn't. "Wash me" she sighed tremulously, and he dipped the sponge in the water and started at her shoulders, moving in long, slow strokes just as he did the floors and windows, squeezing the sponge and letting the hot water dribble down between her fleshless breasts and run down her belly to the stringy tangle of pubic hair between her thin thighs. She moaned as he passed the sponge over her small brown nipples, one hand stealing to his thigh to caress upward to the fabric covering his still-flaccid little penis. At her touch, Stanley paused in his methodical wiping; he was familiar with this sensation, but he had only felt it before at his own hand. He grunted for a moment as he got hard, then resumed his washing. If washing her meant that she was going to rub him and make him squirt, then he was happy.

He continued to work his way down, crouching until she could no longer feel his thin, hard little erection. When he reached the hairy crevice between her thighs, she moaned and clutched the edge of her desk, opening her birdlike legs wide to the gentle steady strokes of his wet sponge and trembling violently as the hot water streamed down her legs onto the floor. Stanley maintained a rhythm, dipping and wiping, dipping and wiping, sending her into the throes of highest ecstasy. He was happy, thinking about her hand rubbing his privates and making him squirt. He was sure she was going to make him squirt when he was done washing her. He worked his way down to her ankles and carefully washed her feet, getting in between every toe as she moaned and squirmed, one hand pressed into the fleshy faintly odiferous folds at her crotch.

When he was done, she used that hand to grasp his rounded shoulder and pull him upright and close to her. She could feel his narrow prick pressed into her naked thigh through his corduroy trousers. "Your turn" she murmured throatily, stripping off his cardigan and Polo shirt and running her hands over his pallid camel-like back. She sank to her knees and unzipped his pants, letting them fall around his ankles while she smoothly rolled down the waistband of his Fruit-Of-The-Looms to free his hard-on. "Ooooh, yes," she groaned as she took the small, dark, slightly crooked member between her hands and warmed it with her breath. Stanley was drooling from there as well now, a clear mucilaginous stream of pre-cum dripping from the malformed head. Stanley was very happy.

Stanley was also very surprised when instead of rubbing him, she put her mouth on his penis. It fit easily into her throat without making her gag, and she closed her lips and slid them back and forth on it, pumping her head in a way that made him VERY happy indeed. He grunted and drooled.

He thought he was about to squirt when she suddenly pulled her head from him and stood up, boosting herself onto the edge of the desk with her legs apart. Stanley could see quite clearly the shiny wet pinkish folds which she had been rubbing with her left hand, and a slightly gaping hole ringed with white cream. He looked curiously, but was more concerned about whether she was going to make him squirt. Why had she stopped?

"Come to me, Stan" she husked throatily, "let me show you what to do."

"Yesh Miss Hobbs" he slurred wetly.

She drew him close to her and reached between his legs to grasp his slippery throbbing dick. Oh good, Stanley thought, she IS going to rub me! But to his utter surprise, she did something else instead; she placed the head of his skinny rod at the opening of the hole between her legs! It was hot there, and wet. It felt very good, much better than her hand or even her mouth. Without conscious volition, Stanley's hips started to thrust, pushing his pointy goatlike penis deep into her crevice. She squealed. He drooled. His hips pumped furiously, his breath whistling out through his nose while his body tensed and spasmed. She clutched him and writhed, her squeals rising in pitch as he panted and humped, her nails raking furrows across his hump. With a final ear-splitting whine, she wrapped her legs around his narrow flabby buttocks and came, and with the spasmodic tightening of her hole around his member, he felt himself start to squirt. He grunted and drooled as the thick white blobs spurted into her canal, and he fell back from her, shaken but happy. Mucouslike gobbets of sperm oozed from her opening, and the base of his softening penis was coated in a slowly crusting goo.

"Oooh, Stanley, that was wonderful, my hunchbacked sweetheart," she cooed softly, her eyes half-closed as she reached for the now-cold sponge and water. "I want us to do this again and again. From now on, when I tell you to clean my office, we'll come in here and you'll do me like you just did, and no one else will know about it but us. Does that sound good to you, my darling?"

"Yesh Miss Hobbs" he slurred wetly.
“I’m guessing it was January 2007, a meeting in Bethesda, we got a bag of bees and just started smashing them on the desk,” Charles Wick said. “It was very complicated.”


LMNO

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Re: Stanley the Retarded Hunchback
« Reply #1 on: February 28, 2008, 04:40:27 pm »
"goat-like penis"?
 :lol:


Synchronicity, ITT.

Mesozoic Mister Nigel

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Re: Stanley the Retarded Hunchback
« Reply #2 on: February 28, 2008, 05:31:03 pm »
It's because I'm tapped into the Matrix.
“I’m guessing it was January 2007, a meeting in Bethesda, we got a bag of bees and just started smashing them on the desk,” Charles Wick said. “It was very complicated.”


Jasper

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Re: Stanley the Retarded Hunchback
« Reply #3 on: February 29, 2008, 08:14:02 am »
I'm kind of disgusted, but I still think "Yesh, Miss Hobbs" should be forum news.

Sheered Völva

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Re: Stanley the Retarded Hunchback
« Reply #4 on: May 20, 2009, 02:28:52 am »
Thanks for the warning, but I liked it. Why shouldn't Stanley and Miss Hobbs have their fun?

Mesozoic Mister Nigel

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Re: Stanley the Retarded Hunchback
« Reply #5 on: May 20, 2009, 07:32:17 am »
I'm delighted to bring such joy to the world.
“I’m guessing it was January 2007, a meeting in Bethesda, we got a bag of bees and just started smashing them on the desk,” Charles Wick said. “It was very complicated.”


Cramulus

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Re: Stanley the Retarded Hunchback
« Reply #6 on: May 22, 2009, 05:00:31 pm »
WHY 
    /
:x

LMNO

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Re: Stanley the Retarded Hunchback
« Reply #7 on: May 22, 2009, 05:29:24 pm »
Because the Free Market demands it.

The Good Reverend Roger

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Re: Stanley the Retarded Hunchback
« Reply #8 on: January 25, 2011, 05:01:28 pm »
:mittens:
" It's just that Depeche Mode were a bunch of optimistic loveburgers."
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