— Hearthisyouyouyou sweet thing, Grandpa mocked, those Jews I skinned in the war were infamous for setting themselves on fire with their own farts and that’s the only gassing I ever heard of, I swear by all that’s dear and holy.
— Lord have mercy, whispered Silvergran and stubbed his ciggi out on a fire-and asheating geranium. If you knew how you sound, Grandpa, you’d flay yourself to death with a cheesegrater rather than live with the shame.
— Hey, Huga-Hugo, Grandpa said with a grimace, caught fast in Johan’s grip like a fart in a bag, I think you should know that I want to puke every time I see you! Why, you’re so ugly, the sperm turns sour every time someone cums inside you!
— Ah, woe is me, Grandpa, you shouldn’t have said that, Silvergran informed him. Because now you’re our bitch, whether you like it or not. Take him to the bedroom, he added and nodded to Mademoiselle Westermark.
Grandpa hooted and hollered like those hawkers who drove Jesus out of the temple, but it didn’t help. Johan carried him like a defiantchild into Hugo’s dingy, smoky, cumsoiled fuckcubby. My Grandpa hissed and spat like a sexstarved cunt; he tried to bite, but a knee in the mouth sent the rottenstumps of his teeth flying.
— I learned that from Tommy Alexandersson, Westermark said conversationally, tossing Grandpa facedown onto the bed and wrenching back his arms and legs. Then Hugo took a mouseskin-strip from his jockstrap and hogtied him.
— Come in, boy, because this is the last you’ll see of your Grandpa.
I went in and sat down on the bidet. Johan whipped out his ramcock and made me flick it with my tongue.
— Now look here, Grandpa, Ralf said with a sneer, we’re about to do the most beautiful thing two people can do together. Keep his head still, he ordered and whipped out a razorblade. Hugograbbed Grandpa by the ears and beat his cursing, dolichocephalic head against the headboard until he was beyond reason.
— I became an expert in what I’m about to do when I was with the Tonton Macoute, Slurpykiss boasted, slipping his free hand under Grandpas chin.
With two elegant sweeps he cut off his eyelids.
— Now you can’t go beddybye when things get rough.
— Help me, mite, Grandpa moaned, can’t you see that they’re hurting me?
— I can’t do anything, I said, not to these types.
— I think I’m just about ripe ibr some loving, the firechief informed us, swaggering around the room with his salivadrenched homobeatstick held high. And by Satan, I’m getting mad, he hissed, fingering Grandpa’s little hardon.
— Why, he’s hornier than a hog, Hugo laughed, gripping Grandpa’s sprucecone as hard as he could.
And when Grandpa opened his mouth to holler, Ralf Marklund shoved his halflimp stoolpress into Grandpa’s gaping mouth.
— God help you if you don’t suck like Jesus unmanning the three wise men, he threatened, because I’ll come down on you like a herd of lunchladies gone wild!
Grandpa obediently puckered up his little mouth and started taking long, deep, luscious pulls. He worked so hard he had twin gaps in his cheeks. Johan smeared his bullcock with Kabylemustard and brutally ripped open Grandpas hinterhillocks. Then, with a girlychirp he crammed his bluebaton into Grandpa’s bruise-dandlubed sewerpipe. He started off slow. Ralf tenderly cradled Grandpa’s laboring head, controlling the tempo, while Johan tookept it nice and easy so he could reach the cerebralhemorrhage he was aiming for. Grandpa bobbed up and down like a buoy, eyes wide and staring, and it was a wonder his brittle skeleton held up as well as it did.
— Surely you can see how much better it is to be tame than troublesome, Ralf declared for the sake of the show. I’m betting that before long we’ll bleed the Nazi right out of you.
— You a proud Aryan now? Hugo barked and crept forward on his knees to shove himself awkwardly in Grandpa’s bloody, aristocratic face.
Grandpa tried to shake his head, but this disturbed Ralf, who was just about to reach the Big O. He dug his nails into Grandpa’s skull and stuck his thumbs into Grandpa’s ears, pulling and twisting until Grandpa’s ostrichneck cracked dangerously.
— By the saltycream stuck up Sven Wollter’s numbertwofunnel, it’ll be down the hatch, he declared angrily.
By this time, Johan was in his own world. He looked like he was suffocating, panting and puffing and generally carrying on. Each thrust took his whole twelve inches. His balls thudded heavily on Grandpa’s emaciated hams; the tempo approached eighty beats a minute. Hugo stared at me with unfocused eyes and played with his raw sausage.
— What do you think, fuckmite, he asked hoarsely and gave a deep sigh of contentment as a fist went up his ass, can you make your head go like a yoyo? If so, you can have a taste of my magnificent hotrod.
— You horngeezer, I snorted dismissively.
— You’re as foulmouthed as a washedupwhore, he growled, but as you’re about to find out, nothing can help you now, not the skin of your teeth nor the milk in your breasts.
— Why don’t you bend over and lick your own pussy, cuntface!
— Hellfireandbrimstone! he roared and lunged at me with his pants down around his ankles. You devil, I’ll kill you!
Unfortunately, he tripped and fell headlong to the ground. And while he was down, I kicked his wildrasperrysized testies blackandblue and bit off his left eyebrow. Panting, Hugo dragged himself into a corner.
— No fucking diva gypsyboys going to suck my magnificent batteringram anyway, he moaned and chafed and coddled his brokenpride. He probably sucks worse than a socialfuckingdemocrat with mumps, so it’s not like I’m missing anything.
In the meantime, the Big Bosses had begun to cum.
— Iiiihh! howled Ralf Marklund, pulling his infected, wartyrod out of Grandpa’s throat so he could mess on his face.
The lidless mirrors to Grandpa’s soul dripped with spermpus and urethraslop.
— Uuuuhh! roared Johan Westermark, dragging his pimply trollpole out of Grandpa’s betterhalf. Slimecoated sperm pumped from its tip like foam from a fireextinguisher and covered Grandpa’s atrophied, writhing flesh.
— Lord Jesus and those fuckhungry cribbiters, Ralf whispered and wiped himself on Grandpa’s nicotinestained wisps of hair, that hit the spot, you bastards.
Johan shut his eyes and swallowed a little of his own seed.
— Hey Ralf, Grandpageezer may be evil as Snoddas and ugly as my old ma, but his mouth and ass are open 24/7. Ume-Eskil once told me that Grandpa sucks like Ebbe and backbumps like Sighsten, Johan said and untied the mouseskinstrip.
— Eskils a lovely old spermburping cumbag, Grandpa said in a choked voice and stretched his creaky danceofdeathcarcass. Then he propped himself gingerly on the potbellypillows and lit a methtartciggi.
— But I’ll never forgive him for being crazy enough to compare me to those epicenequeens. Fact is, I’m the tastiest asswipe to ever suck on a pissrag.
Grandpa sat there and smoked like a lady, a coquettish smile gloomily playing across his ravaged features.
— I’ve gotta thank you, he finally mumbled in servile embarrassment, placing his hands on his rapists’ limp dicks. By Satan, you boys know how to make someone feel like a real woman.
— Ugachaka! Hugo shrieked and crept to the edge of the bed on all fours.
— Why, Hugo baby, Slurpykiss laughed scornfully, what the hell happened to you? You’re a bloody mess from the top of your head to the tip of your fountainpen.
— Furry critters with cunts! Silvergran swore. The boy went apeshit and tried to jump me. But look here, he exclaimed and dipped his bottomfeeding finger into Grandpas own vomithued spermpuddle, which formed a glaring contrast to the palegray fucksauce the steers had pumped out.