Small chunks of brain can also be seen as Jonothon’s head is scooped clean of meat. His eyes roll up into his head, leaving only the white balls gli...tening in his head. Foam pumps from his open mouth, thick white foam like chocolate mousse. There is no hope for him now. Froth. He froths. His body steams as he stinks, wracked with spasms. It twitches and spasms rhythmically. He gurgles gently in a continuous stream. He can no longer breathe. He can no longer think. There is not enough brain left. I saw it when mum moved to show het outfit.“Now, slutty enough for my dirty little boy?” mum asked.“Hell yes.” I said.Then she took the belt from the bed and wrapped it around her silhouette. She closed it and covered her open trident.“Now what might you wear?” she asked and I thought as if that was MY decision.First she took my slave outfit from under the bed, I had told her on the phone where I kept it. I got quickly into it since I had had a lot of training the last weeks. Mum stepped up to. More

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