So, in case there actually are people reading
this; I'm sorry for the abstinence. And there will be more and
probably longer delays since I have no internet at all at home. But
to make up for it, I'll give y'all a really good one!
I'm ashamed for laughing so much at this...
Hey dudes and dudettes, how about some Spongebob
getting raped by the Flying Dutchman?!
Yeah...
That's all for me...
LETS UNLEASH THE SEXY GHOST POWERS!
Soul Juices by Linetime
It was a dark but not stormy night. It was cloudy,
yes, but not raining. SpongeBob had invited Patrick over for a
sleepover. They'd fooled around for much of the evening, but it was
getting late and boring. And by fooling around I mean just hanging
out, not banging.
(Oh the disappointment)
"This is getting boring!" said Patrick.
"We're just sitting around and hanging out. When are we gonna do
something cool?"
"I dunno!" said SpongeBob. "You wanna
play Truth or Dare? THAT'S COOL!"
"What are we, twelve? That's only cool if you're
twelve, SpongeBob."
(GASP!
HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT?!)
"WOW PATRICK! I didn't know you could count to
twelve!" said SpongeBob. "What do the cool kids do then?"
"I know what they do." Patrick pointed to
SpongeBob's waist. "Take off your belt."
SpongeBob did as he was told like a good boy and took
off his belt. But not for banging, sorry. "IT'S OFF! Now what,
Patrick?"
(JUST GET TO THE BANGING ALREADY! THIS IS ONE OF
THE MOST HILARIOUSLY FUCKED UP STORIES I'VE DONE YET!)
"Now wrap it around your neck and pull."
"WHAT! !" said SpongeBob. He was shocked
enough for two exclamation points. "That'll choke me to death!"
("Shocked enough for two exclamation points"
YOU'RE
NOT SHOCKED UNTIL YOU'RE SHOCKED ENOUGH FOR TWO EXCLAMATION POINTS,
MOTHERFUCKER!)
"No, SpongeBob! You stop right before you die
and it feels GREEEEEAT. Trust me."
Even though it was clearly a BRILLIANT idea,
SpongeBob had some doubts and was too afraid to try. "I have
some doubts," he said. "And I'm too afraid to try."
"Fine, I'll show you!" Patrick took the
belt and wrapped it around his neck. He pulled the end which
tightened it like a noose. His eyes bugged out and his face turned
purple. "FEEEEEELS GREEEEEAT!" he said whilst strangling
himself.
(Voila! Patrick is an asphyxiaphile! (or whatever
they're called... it's a new word now anyway...)
FUCK YOU AND YOUR CHILDHOOD!)
"GOLLY!" said SpongeBob. He was quite
confused.
By the way, Patrick was an idiot and did not know how
to properly auto-asphyxiate himself. So his body fell limp, his
tongue rolled out, and his eyes turned into X's.
SpongeBob did not like the look of those X's.
"PATRICK! Are you all right! I don't like the look of those
X's!"
(I've got a feeling I might have to use The
Facepalm here... but not yet though...)
He took out a magic marker and tried to draw over
them with circles. But it wasn't magic enough!
(BULLSHIT! There's nothing more magic than a magic
marker, you twit!)
"OH NEPTUNE!" said SpongeBob. He was
crying. "I think he's dead! My sleepover is ruined!"
(OH NO! My best and only friend accidentally
choked himself on my sleepover! HE RUINED IT! THAT SELFISH SEASTAR!)
He lowered his head out of solemnness. "Goodnight,
sweet prince." (That's a line from Shakespeare in case you
didn't know.) "At least you went out being super cool,"
said SpongeBob. (That one too.)
(Hmm, isn't that last one from Hamlet?)
All of a sudden the air turned into swirling, green
cloudy circles. Thunder clashed even though it wasn't even a stormy
night. From the whirling vortex came a green, bearded figure. He
wailed a ghoulish cry as more thunder boomed. You all know who it is.
(Green bearded figure? The Leprechaun?)
"Fl-fl-flying Dutchman!" said SpongeBob as
he wet his pants in fear. "You're in my house!"
"ARRRRGH! I'm the Flying Dutchman!" he said
even though it was already established. "I'm here for your
soul!"
(Oh well, close enough...)
"NEPTUNE!" said SpongeBob, thoroughly
scared.
"Neptune can't help you anymore!"
"Well, he helps those who help themselves."
"Wait a minute, I'm not even talking to you."
The Flying Dutchman pointed to Patrick's limp body. "I meant to
say all that to chubsy over there."
"NOT CHUBSY!" said SpongeBob, cradling his
fat friend's corpse in his arms.
"Hahahahaha, YES!" the Dutchman laughed
evilly. "His soul belongs to me now!" He reached inside
Patrick (but not for banging, you need to be patient) and pulled out
pickle-shaped soul, dripping with soul juices. He stuffed it in his
little soul bag and patted it. "There we are."
(WHEN WILL THERE BE BANGING THEN?!)
"Please don't take Patrick's soul, Mr. Flying
Dutchman!" said SpongeBob who was still crying like a baby. "He
didn't mean to kill himself! He was just trying to be cool!"
(YOLO MUTHAFAKKA!)
"Then he can be cool IN HELL! I mean DAVY JONES'
LOCKER! Whatever we're calling it these days!"
"No, please! Give him another chance! I'm
begging you!" begged SpongeBob. "I do ANYTHING!"
"Anything?" said the Dutchman
italically.
(Italically)
"ANYTHING!"
The Flying Dutchman unbuckled his own belt. "I
think you know where this is going."
(Yup, definitely seen enough hentai...)
SpongeBob swallowed and lowered his head solemnly
again. "Yes. I get it. The ultimate sacrifice. An eye for an
eye, an soul for an soul to be an hero. The answer is yes, I will
strangle myself to death and give you my soul in exchange for
Patrick's."
"What? I'm taking off my belt for banging."
(FINALLY!
...
"Banging? Oh, like how ghosts bang on walls and
rattle chains and stuff like that?"
"No, like me dropping anchor in your poopdeck.
And maybe finishing off on your stomach."
"I don't understand!" said SpongeBob the
virgin.
(Spongebob the Dipshit)
"ARRRGH! I'LL SHOW YOU!"
The Flying Dutchman pushed SpongeBob over onto his
stomach. Actually he pushed him onto Patrick's body too, because his
ample flesh made for a good cushion. SpongeBob looked back as the
Dutchman started to slide off his little square pants. "Wh-what
are you doing?" he said.
"Anything," he said, echoing SpongeBob's
promise, "… that I want."
(I repeat:
FUCK YOU AND YOUR CHILDHOOD!)
Next came the underwear. The Dutchman pulled them off
and cast them aside, exposing SpongeBob's porous yellow ass.
SpongeBob shivered as he felt the air hit him where it normally did
not. "You feel a draft?" he said nervously.
But the Flying Dutchman was too busy preparing to
bang for small talk. He took his long, jagged, rickets-affected
finger and poked it inside SpongeBob's tiny pucker hole.
SpongeBob squealed like a little piggy. "That's
a private area!" said SpongeBob.
(”And now it's MY private area!”)
"Don't you want your friend's soul back?"
(Pfffffffft! I should've written this instead >_>)
"You mean if I do this, you'll let Patrick
live?"
"Yeah, sure, whatever."
"COOL BEANS! That's greeeeEEEEEEEE!"
SpongeBob shrieked as a second finger was inserted into his little
balloon knot.
(Wonder how many different words Linetime uses as
substitutes for ”asshole”?)
The Flying Dutchman bobbed his fingers up and down.
SpongeBob was so small there wasn't much room to move them around. He
squeaked in pain as the bony digits prodded and scraped inside him.
The Dutchman slid them out and reached into his soul
bag.
"Oh, thank Neptune," said SpongeBob as he
breathed a sigh of relief. "It's all over."
The Flying Dutchman grabbed Patrick's soul. He held
over SpongeBob's little chocolate entrance and squeezed. It dripped
down his asscrack and the Dutchman's hands. "Soul juice makes
great lube," said the Dutchman.
(”SOUL JUICE MAKES GREAT LUBE”
also
”CHOCOLATE ENTRANCE”)
"What's lube?" said SpongeBob.
The Dutchman put the soul back in his soul bag. Then
he reached for his ghostly fly and unzipped. Pants come off easy when
you don't have legs. He slid whatever he wears down there off,
revealing his glowing, erect ghost member.
(And here's what it looks like
)
SpongeBob was turned away, still on his stomach on
Patrick's lifeless body, so he didn't see the Dutchman bring his
throbbing, green manhood closer and closer. He let the tip tease
SpongeBob's entrance, grazing it with his uncircumcised penis (he's
from like 1700's Europe, I got to keep this accurate) but not putting
it in. SpongeBob giggled at the sensation. "This isn't so bad,"
he thought.
( AND YOU'RE DOING A GOOD JOB IN KEEPING THIS
ACCURATE!)
Then the Dutchman gripped the base of his veiny cock
for leverage and slid it in SpongeBob's tight, soul juiced hole. The
Flying Dutchman grunted in pleasure. He barely even fit in the tiny
sponge. The pressure against his cock was incredible. Only about
three eighths of his dick would slide in, as that was deep as
SpongeBob's exit-turned-entrance was.
SpongeBob cried out in extreme pain. He'd never had a
giant ghost penis penetrate him before. Or any kind of penis
actually.
The Dutchman pulled back and slammed in again. And
again and again, aligning with SpongeBob's squeals of pain. SpongeBob
dug his nails into Patrick's corpsy body as he held on. The Flying
Dutchman started to go even faster. He held SpongeBob's waist,
pulling him into each of the thrusts. SpongeBob gripped harder at
Patrick as the pain increased. He bit down at the pink flesh to keep
from crying out like the pillow-biter he was.
The Dutchman didn't have lungs anymore since he was
ghost, so he didn't have to catch his breath. There was no
stop-and-go, it was just constant furious humping. Anal blood started
to seep from SpongeBob's tight but not-as-tight-as-before hole. The
red fluid trickled down SpongeBob's square ass cheek. The Dutchman
didn't even notice his bloody cock wasn't just wet from sweat,
pre-cum, and soul juices anymore.
(I've been thinking, you know, trees? Their pollen
is just basically tree-sperm, and during the spring the trees go
crazy and spread their tree-sperm around like Quagmire on Viagra and
Vodka, so in other words: are we really just being raped by trees
during the pollen season?)
Suddenly, as the Dutchman maintained his hard, quick
rectal pounding, SpongeBob felt something strange. He was in intense
pain, sure. His lower bowels were literally being torn asunder by a
plundering phantom penis, physically ripping his sphincter and rectum
to a bloody, sticky mess. But there was a spot that the specter's
schlong kept hitting that was like a burst of pleasure. SpongeBob
didn't understand it since he didn't understand anything at all that
was happening but he liked it.
(And hayfever, that's like STD, isn't it?)
"Right, there, right, there," he panted in
time with the thrusts.
The Dutchman knew he'd hit SpongeBob's prostrate.
"Oh, you like it when I get right here, do ye?" He pushed
extra hard into it.
SpongeBob's whole body tensed. He squeezed hard at
Patrick's dead body cushion again. "YEAH, YEAH!"
(Two words guys; Tequila Suicide...)
"TOO BAD!" The Dutchman intentionally
pulled his cock away. He slid it out and let it rest a moment on
SpongeBob's spongey ass. He didn't want SpongeBob to enjoy a second
of this.
SpongeBob whimpered. He let his eyes dilate into
puppy dog eyes. It didn't have an effect on the Flying Dutchman. He
flipped SpongeBob over. He forced him to sit up on his sore, bleeding
ass. SpongeBob bit his lip in pain.
"No, open up," said the Flying Dutchman.
"Open what up?" said SpongeBob. His answer
was the Dutchman's huge, ghoulish dick shoved in his mouth. SpongeBob
gagged for a moment before starting to breathe through his nose. The
Dutchman grew impatient with SpongeBob's lack of sucking so he pushed
his cock deep into SpongeBob's throat.
(And now he's forcing Spongebob to give him a
bj...
ENJOY IT, PEOPLE!)
SpongeBob choked and gripped at his neck. His eyes
watered as he gasped for air. "Mmmm mmm!" he said as he
cock-choked.
"Suck it!" said the Flying Dutchman.
SpongeBob caught his breath so his lungs could
prepare for dick sucking. He cupped the salty-tasting organ with his
tongue. He let it roll over the tip and shaft, feeling the individual
veins throbbing with the sensation. Ghosts are very veiny.
(WAIT! Hold your fucking horses!
”Ghosts are very veiny”
They don't have any blood circulating in their
bodies so they don't even have veins at all. They're just masses of
protoplasm...
”Gotta keep it accurate”
ANOTHER JOB WELL DONE BY LINETIME!)
The Flying Dutchman placed his hand on the back of
SpongeBob's square head and pushed him deeper into his erection.
SpongeBob pulled back and the Dutchman pushed into it again. "Keep
doing that," said the Dutchman.
So SpongeBob obeyed and bobbed his mouth up and down
the pulsing, glowing ghost penis. It was an awful taste in his mouth.
It was a mix of unwashed dick, blood, sweat, pre-cum, and soul
juices. Not just any soul juices either, but his best friend's soul
juices. Patrick's soul juices. His dead companion reduced to mere
lube (and a pillow!) for such a disgusting act.
(SOUL JUICE MAKES GREAT LUBE!)
Suddenly SpongeBob felt the Flying Dutchman tense.
His back arched a bit and he grunted. Then SpongeBob choked again as
a flood of warm, sticky liquid filled his mouth. He gagged and pulled
his head away. Dripping threads of cum trailed from his mouth back up
to the Dutchman's tingling member. SpongeBob wiped it away with his
hand.
The Flying Dutchman sighed with pleasure. "It's
been over 200 years since I plundered booty like that."
"Now can you give me back my friend's soul?"
said SpongeBob as he rubbed his sore asshole.
"Huh? Oh, sure, here you go." The Flying
Dutchman tossed it at Patrick. "Well, I best be going."
"WAIT!" said SpongeBob. "I don't
understand! What just happened? What did you do to me? Is it COOL? Do
the cool kids do it? How did you even touch me if you're ghost?
Shouldn't you go right through me?"
"I have sexy ghost powers," said the Flying
Dutchman.
"But what about-"
"Sexy ghost powers!"
(SEXY GHOST POWERS!)
"Oh. Will I ever see you again?" said
SpongeBob, who apparently gets over being raped pretty fast.
"Sure," said the Flying Dutchman. "When
you DIE." The swirling clouds appeared again. "Or maybe
sooner if I feel like doing this again. After all, lemons prevent
scurvy!"
"Huh?" said SpongeBob who did not get the
joke.
"Hahahahaha!" the Dutchman laughed evilly.
Then he disappeared into his ghostly clouds.
Suddenly Patrick stirred. He groaned and held his
head.
"OH PATRICK!" said SpongeBob as he raced to
his side. "You're alive! My sleepover's not ruined after all!"
(I mean, if you kill yourself it's fine! No
problems! But as long as you don't do it during my sleepover, okay?)
"My head hurts."
SpongeBob squeezed his friend with a hug. "I'm
so happy you're not dead!"
"Why does it smell like rape in here?"
I'll just stop there since the banging is over and
that's all you read this for. If I could trouble you to pull your
hand out of your pants long enough to write a review that'd be really
cool beans. If you read this and don't review I'll assume you were
too busy finishing yourself off and didn't want your keyboard to
smell like your nether regions. I may or may not write more to this.
I like Linetime... He writes just about what we
wants and don't give a fuck about the rest. Fanfiction Author of the
Year Award! Right?
And now, for MY soul juice: VODKA!
… Wonder if vodka would work as lube?
...
Wait! What?! FUCK NO!