DIY

My attention has been drawn to a popular DIY site where instructions can be found regarding home maintenance tasks.

To say I was livid was an understatement.

My ‘Twat Cooling Spray’ is most certainly not a ‘gap filling grab adhesive’. How dare they.

My product was a genuine attempt to help Tarts, Sluts & Whores cool off their cunts in a safe & convenient manner. Its unfortunate adhesive qualities were soon apparent which is why it’s now recommended by any self-respecting tit abuser to bond breasts beautifully. It is NOT for fixing skirting boards to walls.

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The things girls do

Some time ago I was embroiled in something of a scandal which we need not go into here.

Dealing with several governments it was, of all people, The United States of America who came to my aid: “We do not supress freedom of speech in The United States of America”.

It transpires, I can do all sorts in PRINT which I can’t do elsewhere, such as on a website. My legal advisors tell me a pdf intended to be “printed out to enable studying for academic reasons” is classed as printed material.

Ergo, my pdf, “Women with Animals” is available here to download and PRINT for you to study for academic reasons

Note: The download will be refused in a number of countries

DO NOT DOWNLOAD THIS if you do not want to see women pictured, explicitly, with animals

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I get Restrained by a Tart

I was trying to superglue a tart’s tits to a table when she brought me to my senses. Yes, how ridiculous of me – no gloves.

I can’t be trusted with superglue and I must wear disposable gloves and act with caution. The trouble is, when I’ve got some tits to play with, I get over excited and over exuberant. The tart was right to intervene.

Ladies, if you entrust your udders into my care it is incumbent upon you to ensure I don’t get carried away. I could have got glue on my trousers again or stuck myself to the table which would have been terrible.

Happily, it all worked out nicely and she was stuck to the table by her breasts whilst I did a load of stuff to her. She’s still there now but that’s a different story

Ready to be glued – trust me, I know what I’m doing
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Four legs

I was beneath the Land Rover tinkering with my secret project the likes of which has never been seen before on a civilian vehicle and which must never be spoken of.

A lovely pair of legs appeared in view. I recognised these as belonging to Marie.

I was about to make my presence known when another, unidentified, pair appeared.

I decided to keep quiet in case they were talking about me which, of course, they were.

Unidentified legs said; “He’s so disrespectful to women

Marie replied; “It’s not just women. He’s disrespectful to everyone”.

As the four legs carried on their winsome way, I reflected on Marie’s kind support of me – wasn’t that nice of her?

I never revealed what I’d overheard but, later that night, I spanked her bum big style even thought she’d done nothing to deserve it. By ways of thanks.

 

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“I pissed myself laughing”

As some of you tarts may know, I go the extra mile or kilometre to give you what you want, wish for or desire – providing you ask nicely and profusely use the word ‘please’.

I delight in delivering torment & torture to your delightful bodies regardless of any superficiality such as the size you may think you are – which is usually wrong.

I have at my disposal a vast range of accoutrements to aid me in this pursuit.

I am not averse to the web but most of what I use is adapted from existing items which illustrates my genius. I despise the lack of originality, thought and flair prevalent in all things today as the world, not me, drifts into obscurity.

For some time, I have underestimated a particular area: Tickling.

The torment of Tickling is sublime. Requiring restraint using my unique & secret Tart Ties I find excessive, incessant tickling results in mild exhaustion and involuntary peeing.

The humiliation of pissing yourself is quite exhilarating (for ME). Coupled with the fatigue you feel from being tickled until you reach the climax I require, render you far more pliable as regards the next stage: spanking.

I have always been an innovator leading the way whilst the mundane follow. For this reason, much of my adaptations remain a secret. With tickling, I basically use off the shelf dusters, and of course, my fingers.

A selection of tickling implements: I love the telescopic ones

 

“I pissed myself laughing”

If you would like to be tickled so much you piss yourself: sywwow.com/spank

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Let the games begin

I thought all you tarts could play chess to a high degree of proficiency.

I thought, maybe, a few of you would be unable, when I say ‘unable’ I mean only be very very very good as opposed to the, expected, supreme standard.

I thought wrong.

The Topless Chess idea of mine, which further illustrates my genius, is a great success.

However, my philosophy will not permit exclusion of any form so I have two initiatives.

The first is partnering, whereby a topless tart teams up with another topless tart, the second being a skilled advisor. As a team they will prove formidable.

The second idea is Monopoly. Yes, Topless Monopoly. The added twist of the nipple is we pay for real money via a conversion rate. There is a time limit on the game so as to avoid the main pitfall of Monopoly.

Regarding money: no-one is ever excluded from my life because of money or the lack thereof. With Monopoly I will discreetly supply whatever you need or desire.

I am now thinking of a third game – a simple quick one. This will then provide the necessary three games I now require as I always do things in threes.

Always

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A Terrible Fall

Some time ago I was in a place and told someone something they should have known already.

One thing led to another and, facing certain death against overwhelming enemy forces, I was relieved to see my friend Den appear at the top of the stairs to the cellar club I’d just helped wreck.

Den, a large imposing character, was sure to rescue me from these bunch of violent twats.

With a horrible racket and accompanying ghastly noises he promptly fell down the stairs bashing and knocking himself as he tumbled.

Watch out for the stairs. Get up off your knees, stand up straight, go through the door, turn right, go down the corridor, turn left and they’re there (the stairs)

This terrible sight shocked all there. As he lay, apparently dead, everyone of threat seemed to vanish.

Concerned staff brought him ‘round and we were helped outside with all thoughts of reparations forgotten as the management were thinking they may be facing a compensation claim.

Despite his size and weight, I helped him to within sight of some taxis and out of sight of the club.

Suddenly he sprang back to life and even did a little tap dance.

‘Den’ was a stunt-man. His list of credits includes a large number of movies you’ve seen and amongst his list of pals are household names throughout the world.

His falling-down-the-stairs stunt was so real I never thought for one second it was staged. I believed we were going to the hospital – again.

This successful & entirely convincing terrible fall was an illustration of his skills and provided a glimpse into why he was used on so many films & TV series.

Restricting himself to the relatively safe, he taught me a number of tricks including a scaled down version of the terrible fall.

What’s all this got to do with fuck all?

Well, you twats just sat there and let me get myself into another life-threatening situation which I now have to go to great lengths to extradite myself from.

I have in mind a plan which, whilst being dangerous, foolhardy and stupid, is a work of a genius mind (my mind).


‘Den’ has since made his exit from this great stage of fools, stage right

 

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Get your arse in shape thanks to ME

Many of you lovely ladies out there are already aware of the many, many, many things I do for you tarts.

Those that are unaware: I do many, many, many things for you tarts.

Some ladies, without cause, have confessed a certain shyness regarding their beautiful derrieres, self-assessing them as less than perfect.

I have given the matter some thought and come up with an action plan to get your ass in trim.

It’s called “Get rid of your fat ass thanks to Sywwow”.

What you do is dress as I have detailed in the picture below and run for five miles whilst I sit in the car smoking fags and adding articles like this to sywwow.com

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Saturdays

Rumours and tittle-tattle regarding what may or may not happen here on Saturdays have forced a postponement, again, to a little game we sometimes play.

I am confident, after this Saturday, things will improve. I mean to say, look what happens:

All innocent fun

 

Please note: now Topless Chess for Tarts is here Topless Chess for Tarts is here to stay (I never thought it would be so much fun – but it is)

A Topless Tart deciding on her next move

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