Lord Long Rod
Diamond Member
- Jan 17, 2023
- 7,706
- 8,122
- 2,138
- Banned
- #1
Hunter called me at 8:30pm on a Thursday night. I worked for him as an IT guy for a while. Essentially, I was on payroll to delete all the illegal shit on his computer hard drives after Hunter used them. I also got him blow. It was a full time job.
So on that night I was already in the middle of wiping Hunter’s laptop for the day. It was the standard bullshit: dark web hooker and blow merchants, Porn Hub, sex toys, international communications with parties in China, Ukraine, and Romania, as well as with an unknown party called “Sweet Meat Pete”; assorted body parts, a letter he wrote to “J. Epstein”, and snuff films he downloaded. God help him if he ever took his laptop to anyone else. But, you know, he’s not THAT stupid.
So I get the call from Hunter on my cell phone. He is agitated and said he needed my help immediately. Apparently, he had gotten locked out of his “Barely Legal Thai Sluts” account mid jack-off and need my help. I shuddered at the thought of having to see Hunter’s dick again. But that just goes with working for Hunter Biden.
I could tell from Hunter’s voice that he was coked out of his mind. I hurried over to his place before he totally freaks out and kills someone again. It was a real emergency for him too, apparently, as he texted my phone 53 times during my 20 minute drive to his apartment.
The door to his flat was wide open when I arrived. I peeked inside, with much trepidation. There was Hunter, bare-assed naked on his couch and sticking a syringe needle into his erect penis. Out of my innate respect for humanity, I cry out, “Hunter!! What the hell are you DOING?!?!”
He looked up and at me, saying “Oh, hey buddy!!! What are you doing here? Ha ha!!” I asked him what he was doing. He told me he was shooting “Heaven” into his dick. I said, “Hunter, dude… Those stories are not real, man. You don’t get a better high doing that! You just get a sore dick!” Hunter asked, “what stories you talking about?!?”
Then things got worse. Hunter said, “Hey, man. Come over here and hold my dick still while I shoot it up. It keeps jumping around on me.” I didn’t want to do it, but the “Big Guy” was paying me really well to look after Hunter. I walked over to him on the couch with a sigh.
Hunter was jibber jabbering a mile a second. It sounded like he was having 2 separate and ongoing conversations going on simultaneously with two imaginary people. Then seamlessly he would transition to me. “Come on, man! Get a hold of that thing. I need to shoot up!!”, he said.
I looked at his throbbing member. It was disturbing, and not just for the obvious reason. It was pulsating and throbbing way too enthusiastically. It was spastically flopping around. I told Hunter that I thought I should call 911 and get him some medical attention. He replied, “Don’t be a pussy! Just grab that sucker and hold it still. Come on, man!!”
“Oh God”, I sighed. But I did as requested. I grabbed the thing firmly. I got to tell you, it was hard to hold that thing. I could not hold it still, but I managed to slow it down enough for Hunter to inject it. I suspect that Hunter already had enough blow in him to kill an elephant. I had never seen anything like this.
When Hunter extracted the needle from his Johnson, an intense stream of blood shot out from the incision opening. It shot all the way across the room and splattered onto a painting of a bowl of fruit that Hunter had painted. But the thing is, the stream did not stop! It kept draining his blood. It was a gushing crimson fountain.
I said, “Holy shit, Hunter!! We need to get you to the hospital!!” He responded calmly, “Nah. Just wrap your hands around it and hold it tight. It’s ok.” I was like “WHAT?!?” I noticed that he had a burning cigarette hanging from his blue lips. I had not even noticed that he lit one up.
Disturbingly, Hunter started losing consciousness. I was really worried now. There is no way he should be passing out after mainlining so much cocaine. “Hunter!! Wake up!!! You’re dying, man!! Don’t go to sleep, man!!!!! STAY AWAKE!!!!” I knew that if Hunter died in my hands the gravy train would end!!
Suddenly, Hunter’s eyes opened. He looked at me and said, “Dude, I just shot some H. Hold on tight. My life is in your hands now.” I was horrified. I pleaded with him to stay awake, but he did not.
I stayed all throughout the night, using my hands to keep pressure applied to Hunter’s penis so he would not bleed out. Every time I removed pressure to see if he was healing, a strong jet of blood shot across the room and splattered on the wall again. I note that his wang stayed hard the entire time. Hunter’s life was literally in my hands.
As an aside, I further note that at 4:33 am, five swarthy Spanish looking guys walked into the apartment and left a large bag of white power and something that looked like a shrunken voodoo head, took an envelope from the kitchen table, then left. None of them said a word, nor did they flinch at the sight of Hunter and I covered in blood with me holding Hunter’s ding-dong in my hands. Honestly, if they deal with Hunter, they have probably seen worse.
Hunter survived the night, thankfully. At some point I fell asleep. It appears that by that point the bleeding had stopped. Unfortunately, when I fell asleep I fell onto Hunter. See, to get through the entire night I spent most of the time on my knees at the edge of the couch. It was incredibly uncomfortable. By morning my legs were aching and I was exhausted.
Essentially what happened is that I fell asleep and my head flopped down on Hunter’s lap. I was awakened by the sound of Hunter raging at me. “GET THE FUCK OFF MY DICK, YOU HOMO!!!!”, he yelled, along with a steady stream of epithets and threats. I tried to explain to him what happened and that I saved his life. But he was having none of it.
Fortunately for me, all the drugs scrambled Hunter’s brain. He did not recognize me. He thought I was some vagrant who had broken into his place and sexually assaulted him in his sleep. I took the opportunity to get the fuck out of there. Hunter chased me to my car. He was still nude and he was waiving a gun around as he ran after me. Fortunately, nobody got hurt.
I continued servicing Hunter’s computers for several more months. Then he let me go for “financial reasons” about the time after he was ordered to pay child support. I told him to be careful with his laptops. He said, “Awe…It will be fine.”
So on that night I was already in the middle of wiping Hunter’s laptop for the day. It was the standard bullshit: dark web hooker and blow merchants, Porn Hub, sex toys, international communications with parties in China, Ukraine, and Romania, as well as with an unknown party called “Sweet Meat Pete”; assorted body parts, a letter he wrote to “J. Epstein”, and snuff films he downloaded. God help him if he ever took his laptop to anyone else. But, you know, he’s not THAT stupid.
So I get the call from Hunter on my cell phone. He is agitated and said he needed my help immediately. Apparently, he had gotten locked out of his “Barely Legal Thai Sluts” account mid jack-off and need my help. I shuddered at the thought of having to see Hunter’s dick again. But that just goes with working for Hunter Biden.
I could tell from Hunter’s voice that he was coked out of his mind. I hurried over to his place before he totally freaks out and kills someone again. It was a real emergency for him too, apparently, as he texted my phone 53 times during my 20 minute drive to his apartment.
The door to his flat was wide open when I arrived. I peeked inside, with much trepidation. There was Hunter, bare-assed naked on his couch and sticking a syringe needle into his erect penis. Out of my innate respect for humanity, I cry out, “Hunter!! What the hell are you DOING?!?!”
He looked up and at me, saying “Oh, hey buddy!!! What are you doing here? Ha ha!!” I asked him what he was doing. He told me he was shooting “Heaven” into his dick. I said, “Hunter, dude… Those stories are not real, man. You don’t get a better high doing that! You just get a sore dick!” Hunter asked, “what stories you talking about?!?”
Then things got worse. Hunter said, “Hey, man. Come over here and hold my dick still while I shoot it up. It keeps jumping around on me.” I didn’t want to do it, but the “Big Guy” was paying me really well to look after Hunter. I walked over to him on the couch with a sigh.
Hunter was jibber jabbering a mile a second. It sounded like he was having 2 separate and ongoing conversations going on simultaneously with two imaginary people. Then seamlessly he would transition to me. “Come on, man! Get a hold of that thing. I need to shoot up!!”, he said.
I looked at his throbbing member. It was disturbing, and not just for the obvious reason. It was pulsating and throbbing way too enthusiastically. It was spastically flopping around. I told Hunter that I thought I should call 911 and get him some medical attention. He replied, “Don’t be a pussy! Just grab that sucker and hold it still. Come on, man!!”
“Oh God”, I sighed. But I did as requested. I grabbed the thing firmly. I got to tell you, it was hard to hold that thing. I could not hold it still, but I managed to slow it down enough for Hunter to inject it. I suspect that Hunter already had enough blow in him to kill an elephant. I had never seen anything like this.
When Hunter extracted the needle from his Johnson, an intense stream of blood shot out from the incision opening. It shot all the way across the room and splattered onto a painting of a bowl of fruit that Hunter had painted. But the thing is, the stream did not stop! It kept draining his blood. It was a gushing crimson fountain.
I said, “Holy shit, Hunter!! We need to get you to the hospital!!” He responded calmly, “Nah. Just wrap your hands around it and hold it tight. It’s ok.” I was like “WHAT?!?” I noticed that he had a burning cigarette hanging from his blue lips. I had not even noticed that he lit one up.
Disturbingly, Hunter started losing consciousness. I was really worried now. There is no way he should be passing out after mainlining so much cocaine. “Hunter!! Wake up!!! You’re dying, man!! Don’t go to sleep, man!!!!! STAY AWAKE!!!!” I knew that if Hunter died in my hands the gravy train would end!!
Suddenly, Hunter’s eyes opened. He looked at me and said, “Dude, I just shot some H. Hold on tight. My life is in your hands now.” I was horrified. I pleaded with him to stay awake, but he did not.
I stayed all throughout the night, using my hands to keep pressure applied to Hunter’s penis so he would not bleed out. Every time I removed pressure to see if he was healing, a strong jet of blood shot across the room and splattered on the wall again. I note that his wang stayed hard the entire time. Hunter’s life was literally in my hands.
As an aside, I further note that at 4:33 am, five swarthy Spanish looking guys walked into the apartment and left a large bag of white power and something that looked like a shrunken voodoo head, took an envelope from the kitchen table, then left. None of them said a word, nor did they flinch at the sight of Hunter and I covered in blood with me holding Hunter’s ding-dong in my hands. Honestly, if they deal with Hunter, they have probably seen worse.
Hunter survived the night, thankfully. At some point I fell asleep. It appears that by that point the bleeding had stopped. Unfortunately, when I fell asleep I fell onto Hunter. See, to get through the entire night I spent most of the time on my knees at the edge of the couch. It was incredibly uncomfortable. By morning my legs were aching and I was exhausted.
Essentially what happened is that I fell asleep and my head flopped down on Hunter’s lap. I was awakened by the sound of Hunter raging at me. “GET THE FUCK OFF MY DICK, YOU HOMO!!!!”, he yelled, along with a steady stream of epithets and threats. I tried to explain to him what happened and that I saved his life. But he was having none of it.
Fortunately for me, all the drugs scrambled Hunter’s brain. He did not recognize me. He thought I was some vagrant who had broken into his place and sexually assaulted him in his sleep. I took the opportunity to get the fuck out of there. Hunter chased me to my car. He was still nude and he was waiving a gun around as he ran after me. Fortunately, nobody got hurt.
I continued servicing Hunter’s computers for several more months. Then he let me go for “financial reasons” about the time after he was ordered to pay child support. I told him to be careful with his laptops. He said, “Awe…It will be fine.”
