By Cassidy Pen
My dear friends in Lonnie and Christ, many of you remember my SRAS, Angela Pen.
My days have been filled with the empty pain of loneliness since my beloved sras went missing. My spirit, cursed with hearing rumors of her capture at the hands of self raping non-normals, sinks further into an emotional pitfall.
All of my endeavors, once done with the vigor of salvation that Lonnie’s grace rewards, are now stale and grey to me.
My ministry, once a staple of my oath to spread the SMN Pledge, is now a silent handshake and street corner brochure distribution. No longer does the joy of Lonnie’s love in the eyes of the converted fill my heart with bliss.
No longer does my still operation grant me the solace and community of God’s beautiful creation. My hunting is now for nutrition, not jubilation.
I now spend evenings in my burned-out barn in the company of the saddle my sras left behind. My Glock 37 dangles in my hand loaded as I slump in misery, wondering where my dear sras has gone. Is she safe? Is she even alive?
Missing since our aborted move to B.L.U.F.F. OH, she was kidnapped by non-normals, who are putting her through unspeakable acts of self rape.
But now, just as the cross I bear becomes almost too heavy, the Good Lord has allowed me to hear word from my beloved sras. Her captors are self-rapists of the lowest order. Their degenerate circle jerks leave them dazed and disoriented for hours afterward. She was able to slip word to me through a method that I must not yet compromise.
She tells me she is fine. Her birthing hips are still moist and firm, and her body is strong and fit, still displaying the alluring shape that sends my blood afflutter. She is awaiting the chance to escape.
My dear sras tells me she is in despair with me on her mind during this ordeal. She asks that everyone pray for her escape and eventual return to my arms. She asks that you do this in the name of Lonald.
I pass on her prayer request to you.