Storytime: Monkey see Monkey wanna do

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Storytime: Clubs, Drugs and Undercover Cops

Alright, now i'm in Finland, which means I have internet so I better run another one of these!
 So far we've got porn about fast food, pedofile rodents, birds, Snape and teletubbies, Toy Story (although they just talked about it, but it still counts!) Spongebob and stupidity.

I know, how about some MOTHERFUCKING MICROBES fucking the BEJEEZUS outta each other!?

Ever heard about Osmosis Jones? Ozzy, the sassy, swaggy, very black-even-if-he's-a-WHITE bloodcell voiced by Chris Rock? Yeah, he's about to get banged by the villain of the movie: Thrax. A surprisingly good-looking virus....

....

Ahum! Let's have some Chemistry 101:

A/N: pathogens are any substance harming the body; also remember that alcohol goes to your liver

Then my liver gotta be one HELLUVA party!

Considering everything in artform you can find on google with these two, I WAS A FUCKING SAINT FOR PICKING THIS PICTURE AS AN INTRO!

PRAY I DO NOT GO FURTHER!

Clubs, Drugs, and Undercover Cops by amazingredhead

On his own, a lone white blood cell searched for a pathogen gone rouge. His name Jones, Osmosis Jones, and his partner Drix was called out to the nostrils to help with the pollen problem.

(AKA, STD caused by tree-rape)

Word was that the missing germ was hiding out in The Liver, a club run by the infamous virus named Thrax. The Liver was popular for many young cells to get drunk and dance and wearing his normal uniform would just make Jones stand out. Leah had help the young cop pick out a new outfit and shades to hide his face.

(Or he could just squish and stretch his own godamn face like in the movie?

Fact of the day: Osmosis Jones is THE worlds best Master of Disuises

Seriously, IMAGINE THAT YOU COULD JUST CHANGE YOUR ENTIRE APPEARANCE BY JUST PULLING UP YOUR PANTS!

Back to the fuckfic...)

Ozzy made his way to the bar, "What's your poison?" a scruffy cell asked the officer. "Yea just get me some water," he said while scanning the masses for the missing germ who went by the name of Chills. Little did the white blood cell know, Chills was hiding out behind the bar counter and was well aware of the cop sitting at the booth. Before the bartender could get Jones his drink, Chills slipped something into the cup. Sipping down the drink, Ozzy began to feel the urge to move. It began at first as leg shaking, but when that wasn't enough, the cop made his way to the dance floor. Laughing and dancing, he was having the time of his life. Chills began to make his way out the door until a huge figure stepped in front of him, "Hey baby, I don't mind you commin here, dancing it up and partying and all, but you cannot go around puttin drugs in peoples drinks!" Thrax said while running a long, slender red finger across the germs cheek, "Now babycakes I'm gonna take you to the good ol' police and they're gonna take good care of you. Aey you!" he yelled pointing to one of his henchmen, "take this to the police, tell em big daddy sent him as a present". The germ was taken away and Thrax took a look at the club.

(And THAT is how your brilliant plan of escape goes down the shitter thanks to Thrax who suddenly decides to become a goodguy... Or something similar...

Oh, and one more thing:

” Thrax said while running a long, slender red finger across the germs cheek”

That finger has a temperature of motherfucking million degrees calvin...

THE GERM WOULD HAVE EXPLODED!

Oooo, but why do I even fucking bother... they're microbes about to fuck... )

An amused smile spread across his face when he saw the young cop dancing shirtless and yelling. The virus made his way to the white blood cell, "Yo Jones you alright?" he yelled over the music. The cell looked at him and touched his face, "Why are you so red?" he asked stupidly and began laughing.

(Go home, Jones! You're drunk!)

The virus laughed, "Baby, you're outta it! Here let Daddy take care of you," he said while wrapping an arm around the cells waist and leading him out of the club.

 

(No! Let's NOT let Daddy take care of you! He has fathering-issues!)

"Man! Why you gotta go and ruin my fun?" Ozzy complained, "Oh shit! I didn't get that germ guy!". "Chill out, Daddy took care of him now," Thrax said, leading the cell to the small hideout he had, "why don't you go lay down?" Jones pushed the virus to the side, "Noo, I don't want to," he grumbled. The red man sighed, "Then what do you want to do?" A mischievous grin spread across Jones' face, "I wanna have fun!" he squealed, the virus cocked a brow at him, "What kinda fun?" he asked.

(PINKIE PIE PARTY FUN)

"Get down," Ozzy demanded in a serious tone. Curious as to what the cell had planned, he did as he was told and got down on his hands and knees. Ozzy got on and straddled his waist, "Now my steed, move!" he giggled. The red man shook his head and got up, "Okay were doin this Daddy's way".

(We're doing this daddy's way)

He brought the younger man down on his back and held his arms over him. "Thrax, what you doin?" the cell asked feeling a bit concerned. "Aey, you said you wanted to have fun and baby, this is something we can both do and have fun" he said mater-of–factly. Thrax looked at the younger man and saw his pupils were getting smaller, "Well looks like whatever shit was in your drinks wearing off."

(And the Father of the Year award goes to...

NOT THRAX!)

Holding his arms up with one hand, the older man made quick work of the cells pants with the other hand. With Jones completely naked under him, Thrax pushed his knee lightly against the others groin. The cell let out a stifled moan. A smile spread across the viruses face in approval and did it again.

"Thrax, this is weird," the cop said as the virus hoisted his legs up onto his shoulders and positioned himself.

(Now, here comes the fascinating part:

Jones is a white blood cell

Thrax is Anthrax virus

WHY DO THEY HAVE GENITALS?

Because Amazingredhead is a lunatic, apparently!)

A predatory gleam shone in the red man's eyes and a savage smile played across his lips, "Well sweetheart, you ready for this?" A shudder ran through Ozzy's body as he put all the pieces of what was happening together. With the drugs out of his system and his mind clear, he still nodded. Thrax's smile grew and pushed himself into the younger man, "Now, you tell Daddy if it hurts okay?" Jones only managed a nod and a grunt as he was intruded. As the virus pumped in and out, Jones squeezed his eyes shut. This was painful for him until Thrax began to stroke him and he focused on that.

(Yes, you read it correctly. A virus is fucking a white bloodcell...

IS FUCKING

ENJOY YOUR MISERY!)

Every now and then a moan would slip out and quickly choked down by the cop, Thrax thought this was cute, though, he'd never admit he thought anything was cute let alone the turned on, moaning mess that was splayed before him. Thrax continued to buck fiercely into Ozzy while keeping his hand in pace with each thrust. Their breaths mingled with each other along with sweat to create a heavy scent of sex in the room and their gasps and moans bounced off the walls. Jones' moans came louder and more often and Thrax knew that the other was close to his finish. With a scream of the red man's name, Ozzy came and rode out Thrax until he came as well.

(OH THE PAIN!

THE AGONY!)

The virus rested head on the others chest until he pulled out and rolled down next to the younger man. "So baby, fun or what?" Thrax said with a mocking grin only to find the cell on his side already asleep. 'Cute,' the virus thought, but would never say. He got up and cleaned up the mess and placed Jones onto the couch with a blanket. 'Well, gotta get back to work,' Thrax thought, then looked at the sleeping cop. 'Well, I guess it wouldn't hurt to sleep in'.

I know, it isn't that great..it's been like 2 years since I've watched the movie. I know the characters are a bit OC and the story isn't really biologically correct, but this story was for my friend! So I hope that regardless, you still enjoyed the story :D

…

Excuse me while I go beat Amazingredhead to death with a Biology for Dummies book!

Storytime: Soul Juices

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!