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Redemption Evolution

Huddled in a corner of the bed, fat and bald man appears to be crying. The military green shirt's small dark spots were formed of tears and sweat stains under his armpits. Sobs. So much so that I could not speak. Remains silent, waiting.

The woman who stands before you lean and tall. It is wrapped in red latex and fixed silent, cold and distant and severe.

The room is strewn with scented candles and ropes and chains, handcuffs and scented oils and ointments, and toys. Vibrators of various shapes and colors are scattered on the bedside table and dresser.

He is sitting motionless in his underwear, in front of her stares without saying a word. Sighs and tries to escape from the grasp of a pair of handcuffs holding him prisoner.

"Do not move!", Leaving the underwear her whip snapped a shot between his legs.

And sobs to mix a cry of pain.

He does not speak. We limit ourselves to present a look pitiful and pleading.

Then, when about to speak, she blows, as if he knew, as if he read the mind.

"Shut up!".

Another whiplash thighs sweaty and flushed from the previous rounds. Appear long red stripes, wounds that are added to those older and already healed. The man sweats and the sweat mixes with tears. The woman's spit and saliva mixes with her sweat and tears and blood. And the guy plastered the body fluids, they almost go slack.

Cede, for a moment, lets go.

The soft light, the strong smell.

The woman prisoner in front of the system and fixes it and then pulls down the zipper on the front of the shiny costume.

her breasts on display. Then, at the navel, it stops.

"Would you like to see more? Would you touch me? Me? Would you fuck me? "

And he shakes his head up and down. A kind of dumb, sweaty, pleading answers. A silent prayer.

A petition breathless.

And then you breathless and panting as if he were to have an orgasm. The erection under the pants stained with blood.

And she continues.

Without hesitation.

lowers the zipper some more 'revealing the belly smooth, flat as that of a model of advertising. The man rolls his eyes and opens his mouth as if stunned, or hungry. She touched her nipples and he seems that the eyes are going to shoot out of the orbits. The woman slips off completely put red and stands naked before the eyes of his prisoner. The room is damp and smells permeated with warmth and silence. She moves supple, slow. Paraded before the eyes him.

"I bet you'd like to touch me," she whispers.

He is a hoarse whispers.

Then she slaps him hard enough to drop back on the bed.

Hardly able to pull himself up and regain his seat. Pale blue, with shiny skin.

"On your knees."

She snaps another flick, this time on the floor, inches away from obeying him as he was leaving of his own life.

She sits on the chair opposite the bed.

In front of the man on his knees, handcuffed.

It touches with the whip and spread apart the legs.

The opens.

man sticks out his tongue in the impossible attempt to savor it.

He gasps and she looks away from him. A cold stare, superiority, almost with contempt.

He squirms.

She also .

moans.

gasps, groans and accelerated.

Man tries to break free but he is too fat and too sweaty and too tired and too handcuffed.

you enjoy.

He wants to scream. He wants to bite off those shackles that stifle, which prevent him from doing what the instinct to scream.

handcuffs Those who protect him from himself!

With a kick, her, she crashed on the floor. The thud on the floor is deaf. The fat man waves as pudding, like jelly.

She stares at him mercilessly.

He looks at the corner of the eye.

With reverence.

with fear.

And wait.

Spera.

and dreams.

And he implores.

At the foot of her has black patent leather boots. It is with the left that hits it. The man throws a stifled scream, muffled by the pleasure that is mixed with pain.

The humiliation that excites him. The pain makes him feel alive ... and sinner!

The woman lifts the foot and heel with the tip of the temple of man.

Press.

The breathing becomes more labored. She pressed more and more strong. With a sidelong look, and then the man sees it.

nice and hard and cruel and immoral!

The heel, the first to smash in his temple, he stops.

Just then he has his orgasm. His pain fulfilling lost in the silence of the room.

After a few moments she has to break the eerie silence.

As he holds her face becomes as sweet as ever.

"Father, it is almost time. He has twenty minutes before the function. "

Chihuahua Ate Ib Profin

-The truth is that you were softening, I feel say.
And to be honest I can only agree.
tells me that having spent all this time I was here almost a syndrome caused by posting. In practice, I almost forget the real reason of my stay here. The purpose. The end.

The cracks in these walls are wrinkles on the face of our shelter which is really a shack lost in a forgotten corner of the two hemispheres.

The truth is that I was going to give up.
The truth is that I was saved by a hair.
And now, finally, here we are completing the last phase of the project.
The data and analysis and projections, everything is clear, he tells me. We sought a solution alternative, after all we could do, we are here, now. There are other solutions. That's what I keep telling myself.
Among us a walnut table, older than old, that explains all the cards, files, maps and all the material we have examined so far. He, after the break, he returned to focus on projections for the dissemination and everything else.
His eyes overflow with determination, rimmed and puffy with fatigue. I look at her wrinkles and look for cracks on the walls that intersect on the damp spots that draw strange scenes incomprehensible.
every breath is a breath nauseating vested in me in full. I wonder how long
has passed since we came down here and he seems to be able to read my mind and say we've been here too now. Did you know that it was in danger of achieving this. It is not the first time and probably will not even last.
His eyes off me off to get back on the cards in front of him. I have the impression that the face in slow motion.
The fact is that this is a really huge thing to not get upset at least, I think. He says, for the avoidance of doubt, we are doing the right thing. When we started it was hoped that things would go differently, I know. But it was put into account this possibility. That 's what happens when an experiment goes wrong. You throw everything away and start again.
My guilt must be more obvious than I think.
says: ah, for the avoidance of doubt, you're crazy. And you're not imagining things. You do not have a brain infection or a degenerative disease of any kind. In short, what I want to tell you is ... you already know which is the standard procedure.
I know that this is the standard procedure.
It is coming off a particularly self-destructive, belligerent. It 'just that, basically, that it came out, and the exceptions do not count, he says. A percentage unrepresentative can not determine anything, now. Have you lived here too long. His hair slicked

and shiny and slicked back, stretched from the wool cap now resting near the edge of the table against which I see a head smashed. His
. Or maybe my
.
And then I think.
And then analyze again.
again.
And again and again until they are exhausted. It
to metabolize all that, he says as sheets moves and grabs the inside of the mug with dark brew.
enough, but encourages me.
We can afford uncertainty.
He looks at me and smiles a cold smile. A plastic smile.
In the basin, the choppy water is almost frozen. It smells of wax, air. The candle is now half a candle. He goes the window and pulled back the curtains and let the light of sunset. On a piece of furniture, a wicker basket seems to sparkle. A frame of frozen death. A similar fate that awaits this place, I think.
Everything seems to be silent and sad and resigned. Ready to die.
I am myself imagining himself who imagines that this is not happening really. I have already made a decision long ago.
Then join him and I look out the window. He wrapped his jacket, is serene. And I feel envy at this moment. And he knows it. The candle is a shapeless stump and flamboyant.
In my head the thundering words decline and end, and forgetfulness, decline and collapse. We go out
out. The air is biting cold. Above, thin layers of clouds across a sky that seems more than it is boundless. A sky that seems to be in focus over the mountains.
Let's do it, I say with any decision I can. And he answers me without saying a word, with a view that I lay on him. A few steps from our shelter, she is. The aviary. Ten feet by six. A set of bamboo poles and wire that keep our cars locked.
We head to the cage. I open the lock that keeps the door closed and we enter. Pets welcome us squawking and flapping wings. The power of unconsciousness, I think.
closes the cage and slowly begin to ducks and swans get used to our presence. In the aviary back calm.
I am myself. I am what we are doing.
-right-he says-we proceed. " And from the pockets of our jackets pull out the vials containing the colorless and odorless. Looking it seems nothing more than water. But it is much more.
not we exchange a look even more before pouring the contents into two large pools of water. We do so slowly, solemnly, almost.
The animals are watching me and for a moment pretend that any of their suspects to know what we are doing.
Then we leave the aviary and close the lock.
Now the wait. The last act and all will be irreversible. Everything starts here, on this day like many others. In this instant. The end will begin right here in the corner of anything.

beginning the virus does not arouse concerns and will only be a trivial, mild flu that affect only certain species of birds. Shortly after the disease begins to make more victims than expected among birds. But only when the virus is able to mutate and jump from one species to another, only then things really start to worry.
Governments around the world begin to suspect, to understand. But already it is too late.
Scientists around the world will begin a desperate quest to find a way to flush out the virus before it is able to infect humans.
And everything will be useless.
's just a matter of time.
Its planned evolution.
Tested.
The infection starts from the east. First dozens, then hundreds, thousands of birds carrying the disease. Infected. Dead, exterminated.
An advance of destiny.
infection resistant to all the means that man's ingenuity can be used.
The contagion has already happened but will remain invisible.
This world is dead without knowing it.
This world died today, right now!
the greatest pandemic ever seen from this planet.
The greatest tragedy ever experienced by this species.
The biggest release I've ever experienced this world!

Finally people begin to get sick. No one will believe his fate. Thousands, millions of deaths. Billion at the end, all the billions of inhabitants of this planet. The end
most democratic of all.
The disbelief that gives way to anger that gives way to despair that eventually turns into resignation.
At that point, our mission has ended.

Now, out here, sitting on this bench of rotten wood, we expect that the animals are watered in the aviary. Now that our means of liberation are ready ... now, with all the unconscious power of their role will be freed.
cross the space that separates us from the cage. The same few steps. I feel a pain
clear.
I'm afraid when we detach the pins of one of the walls of the aviary. Broke off the north side and release them all. Only one swan does not seem to want to move. For a moment it seems that I really look as if he understood. Finally reaches his companions.
free up the entire world.
looking around my mate who has already returned home.
I'm still out here to watch the flock away. I see the silhouettes of the birds that will bring back peace and quiet in this place lost somewhere in this universe.