1/30/2026 8:30:54 AM by
ColonelTorture
(Edited: 1/30/2026 8:54:24 AM)
Views: 46
Despite the Arctic temperatures. And despite this snow that never seems to abate. Am heading up to the Lake with a handful of college buddies to drink, BBQ, play cards and talk about cheerleaders. Cheerleaders of yesteryear.
It's a two hour drive. And I'm thinking the band 'Live' for the ride up. Always thought that the lyric in the chorus of 'I Alone' would be appreciated by a real life Controller.
No matter the weather I tend to go out for solo crack-of-dawn walks at these masculine gatherings. Clear the head. Buzz off a few calories until a breakfast fit for Kings is laid out for all the lads. Tis within these treks (sometimes) that I 'choose' new female fantasy victims...and ponder the shame of their rapes and the dread reality of their torture sessions. "Ah, it's Me...the Artist" as I greet the morning deer foraging. Or wonder at the fish below the surface of an ice encrusted lake that was gouged out by glaciers whoever knows how freakin' long ago.
My kink has a connection to the Ice Ages...my stint at University...and a 'Present Day' that affords myself the opportunity to portray so many (fantasy) women suffering in so many sadistic ways! All the variations on Carol...all the Lisas and the Jolenes. Not forgetting a Danielle or an Allie thrown in from time to time.
Mu - ha - ha - ha - HAAA!
(I just need to post better piccies. Sexier victims. Perhaps after Valentine's Day...)