Okay, so, recently (within the past few months) I called it quits

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Anonymous
2017-02-21 11:17:36 Post No. 723206315
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Anonymous 2017-02-21 11:17:36 Post No. 723206315 [Report]

Okay, so, recently (within the past few months) I called it quits with my crazy girlfriend. She wanted to get married and quit college and for me to get a job to support her art, which was crappy anime-style self-insertions of her oocs.

As stated, the problem with breaking up with her was that she was crazy. She could find me, and she would get hyper-fucking possessive if I was even polite to a female waitress or, say, handed a woman a purse she nearly left behind.

There was only one solution- I would have to do something that was crazy enough to make her break up with me and yet not profane enough to get the police involved.

This is where another /b/tard helped.

If you've never looked up the tale of "dickfarts" by an anon with a now defiled forever turkey baster, do so now.

I told crazybitch I had a kinky idea I wanted to try- but it was a surprise- and she was game for it.

I tied her to the bedposts, arms and legs, then I got out the long plastic tube. She was grinning until I lubed one end up and stuck it into my peehole.

Anonymous 2017-02-21 11:23:49 Post No.723206877
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Anonymous 2017-02-21 11:23:49 Post No.723206877 [Report]

>>723206315
wat

Anonymous 2017-02-21 11:27:22 Post No.723207168
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Anonymous 2017-02-21 11:27:22 Post No.723207168 [Report]

I blew, and blew, and blew, feeling my bladder expand, and crazybitch went from confused to mute horror as the only noise in the room was the soft gurgling of air bubbles going down my penis.

Then, when I couldn't stand anymore, I removed the tube, and tried to dickfart the national anthem as I hummed.

Keyword being, tried.

Turkeybasteranon didn't mention how hard it was to stop dickfarting once you stopped. I squeezed, got it going, and I got as far as "Oh say, can you see" before I lost muscle control and started dickfarting out of pain and pleasure.

Then I lost bowel control as a black ring started choking out my vision. I vaguely remember the stench of voiding myself audible over the buzzing penile flatulence- I was too busy trying to convince my hallucination of Satan I wasn't ready to go.

From what I pieced together from my ex's friends screaming at me, I buttblasted the floor as I convulsed, mumbling about Satan while my dick croaked like a frog, and crazybitch decided that this was her cue to pull herself free (I didn't tie the knots super-tight, safety reasons), dress half-naked, and bolt.

I awoke to shitstains on the floor and bloodstains on the bed.

I had to, while barely able to walk, rent a steam cleaner to take care of the mess on the floor, and for several days after that I would have, while painfully urinating, what I affectionately call bloody bubbling boner blasts, where packets of air would come out in a frothy foam of red-tinged bubbles.

Eventually, urination ceased to be painful or bubbly, and once I move to a new state, I'll look for another girlfriend.

The moral of the story? Don't stick it in the crazy, or you'll get bloody bubbling boner blasts.