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Abomination - Henry Knollenberg - Future Death Nostalgia (File)

08.06.2020 Shajind 8 Comments

Respect our producers! Please contact Ralphus and he can add it manually for you. Sign the Forum Banner link of the week! Check out more links on our links pages text and banners Please feel free to post or comment She has the physique of an 8 yr old. Take Tatjana, she is sultry, although too skinny, she is one fine piece of ass. I thought she was Ariel as well. Yes, but that does not have this scene. They might not be Yul Brynner and Anne Baxter anyway And i'd rather see the waist and inner thighs exposed than breast with the waist covers like so many Jap GIMP movies do when they pull the skirt up Can you elaborate, please?

Do you mean the censorship pixelation? I thus watched the teaser on twitter. Looks to me like a very promising movie again. As for the release date, well we will have to await Pedro's decision. Pedro: Come on now, what are your next releases? A girl sandwiched between two huge stones. From French TV but likely not original in French. On youtube: [ www. They dont die when they sting and you could let them free afterwards.

Regarding allergies etc. I think they would be a great card since a sting hurts not that badly but ceases great psychological terror in the victim. The DCP is the projection system used for theatrical screenings the world over. High Horse: Has anyone noticed that Amy Hesketh is making what looks like quite a big production Horror Movie about a murderous trucker?

Search for 'Rucker the Trucker' on facebook. I will be amazed if there is no GIMP-age, and am quite looking forward to seeing how it turns out Rucker , the title of the movie, was written by Amy herself and it's a very big budget production, bigger than anything we've done so far. Jac and Amy were having a nice chat about it a couple of days ago, when she told him about signing Corey to play a leading role. Jac was impressed, of course, but not surprised. All this activity comes on the heels of recent public events which included the sudden renewed interest in Outbreak , the film Jac produced for NatGeo way back in That production led to Jac meeting Amy and beginning an extremely rewarding association that produced over 20 films in 10 years.

A new cycle begun in , when Jac took over the production of another NatGeo production in the jungles of Bolivia, which is still going on, while Amy began her academic career in the US.

In my humble and honest opinion, all those reviews and articles that appeared in trade magazines like Fangoria and Weng's Chop , all those in-depth reviews written by Rich Moreland, C Dean Anderson and others, resonated in some places in the industry, thus, Amy and Jac are now engaging in some bigger productions.

Amy is all the way up north and Jac all the way down south, but very much in tune with each other, working together, producing for each other, advising on artistic matters and so on. They are planning a film where Amy, Carmen and Veronica will get together for some good horror fun to be produced in the US in the summer of next year, if all goes according to plan.

The fear in her voice is brilliant. However, remove the clothes and see tattoos of knives dripping in blood, corpses, etc, and the image is gone forever. Sangu Welcome! There is a clit stinging on motherless, if you've not seen it. Well, honestly, I'm not so sorry. I see from your twitter preview that Lyen's return is very interesting, and I'd prefer to see Zazie in a "solo" film as WOP She already had 1 duel and you have to release other 2 movies in which she is in a couple a duel and a save a friend.

Maybe in a "special rules" edition that put her in a very harsh situation I really fear her luck in picking the cards in WOP she was too lucky, without your intervention for the last round it would be the biggest wasted opportunity in EP history Clit pircings were done in other movies too. And Pedro wrote, that she could look at all cards beforehand but skipped it because she said she would win anyway.

I personaly like it that its a little harsher than previous films. Regarding the ass waxing and ballgag, well taste differs and it's the nature of random cards, that you propably wont like everything.

Since the cards came from this forum you can be sure that at least one persons likes it. I could imagine they start hitting hard from beginning because they want her to lose its a game with limmited lashes. In a predeterminded punishment you can agree on more lashes and therefore start slower.

But I agree that there should be at least a second chance to get compensation. Overall its one of the better films. But thats just my personal opionion. Looks totally awesome. Lyen is back yeah, and more stunning than ever!!!

First I thought the blonde was Ariel, but she is a new gal, and is really giving a hard time for my fav sub. The subtitle says: "I said turn around" I looooove the way she laughs at Lyen's suffering.

Pedro - Where is the full movie available for purchase??? Stev, quit whining Lucy was in pain -- yeah that's the goal of a torture movie I think he did predicament BDSM better than anyone. I always loved his machines and devices that were extremely innovative. Unfortunately, the gory execution part wasn't my thing, but he was always pushing limits up to that point. Anyone know where his new stuff is I can buy? And i'd rather see the waist and inner thighs exposed than breast with the waist covers like so many Jap GIMP movies do when they pull the skirt up.

To me there is something about an exposed stretched out rib cage that speaks vulnerability to me. The actress and scenario are the value adders to me. She has to sell it, some amazon getting whipped by a petite princess who moves the whip with the force that wouldn't make a toddler cry does nothing for me. Good mainstream scenes are my bread and butter. I like some of the porn clips but I find many of them fake and not near as big a turn on. I have been a fan of ElitePain since the very first movie Case 1.

I did not buy all of the movies and my enthusiasm lapsed, mostly because many of the girls were not attractive for some time.

Still, there were highlights that kept me looking out for new EP movies. It was a great movie with two great girls with great reactions. After that movie, I bought every new movie right away without thinking. Let me first address the smaller downsides. That sole whipping scene was not good. A good whipping starts moderate and that continues for some time till the girl ends up in tears. Give a scene the time to evolve like the first scene in "Painful Duel 7" The wax scene was not sexy at all.

The breast whipping scene could have been good, but the gag ruined it for me. We want to hear the little sighs, groans, and whines.

Why do something that limits these expressions? The back whipping scene was good. Again, it could have been better if there would have been some kind of increase. And then the last scene. This ruined the whole movie to me. I regret to have bought it. That scene was brutal and unsexy. But this was just over the edge and unwatchable. I skipped that part and jumped to the final scene in which Lucy bagged for a chance to try it again.

But you refused. While that may be the game, I felt sorry for the girl. We should have fun watching them and in the end, the girl should be paid for her suffering. I will not buy the next movies without seeing some footage and without some info about the content. It seems some people here on the forum liked the movie, so you might not care about my opinion at all. I hope you find your way back.

It's my first real post here I welcome your feedback. WOP is not really my thing except for the fabulous Darcia Lee , but I give props to Pedro for being a very active producer, for his activity on the forum and being so responsive to everyone here.

In the above image, she is tied upright and being subjected to electrotorture by bad guys in camo. And as always thanks to the Lil Guy Ralphus for keeping the lights on, the place running, and everyone relatively civil. Also a sting in the clit or so will hurt like hell. Something like one task that they can shoot later when the wounds are healed, that you add to the next film. I want the girls to suffer but I also want them happy when it's over otherwise I feel like a monster.

Bullet ants are a hyper aggressive species in the wild, but in containment they die off very quickly, and not enough research has gone into prolonging them in captive conditions.

That is with people who know how to handle them, and care for them. For those who don't, it would be a disaster. Also, sourcing is an issue, as many dealers are only interested in profit on the sale of desirable specimens, not conservation.

We must be freed from all rules. Ours is a high and lonely destiny. No one else was quite real to Pavel Young. That was especially true for women, but it applied to everyone else around him, as well.

He lived in a universe of cardboard cutouts, of human-shaped things provided solely for his use. He had no sense of them as people who might resent him -- or, indeed, who had any right to resent him -- and he was too busy doing things to them to even consider what they might do to him if they got the chance. Arthur : I think we have different value systems. Ford : Mine's better. Trillian : Can we leave your ego out of this?

This is important. Zaphod : Hey, if there's anything more important than my ego around here, I want it caught and shot now. You should be thinking about others. In fact, you should be thinking about me. I am always thinking about myself, and I expect everybody else to do the same. That is what is called sympathy. It is a beautiful virtue, and I possess it in a high degree. You killed her because, finally, when you could have saved her, when you could have gone away with her, when you could have been thinking about her , you were thinking about yourself It is in this blazing moment that you finally understand the trap of The Dark Side , the final cruelty of the Sith -- Because now your self is all you will ever have.

At first, he thought he must be mistaken. To begin with, he was persuaded that, if any one was to be pitied, it was he, Raoul. It would have been quite natural if she had said, "Poor Raoul," after what had happened between them. But, shaking her head, she repeated: "Poor Erik!

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PlayStation : O. Interview: "A life less ordinary" Gabe Newell , Valve. Retroview: " Intellivision Lives! Arcadia: "Satellite-beamed arcade games" Agora Interactive teams with other tech companies for satellite linked arcade games , "Arcade hits for spring", " Midway sees arcade sales stabilizing". Big in Japan: " Batteries not included ", " Another Bomb ". Big in Japan: " Insert Quarter to Continue ". Arcadia: "Battle in Arkansas" Law banning public demostration of violent games is defeated , "New boards from Sony and Namco ", "Namco to the rescue?

As a Death Trope quite likely the biggest one, in fact , all spoilers will be unmarked ahead. Catwoman :Two lives left. I think I'll save one for next Christmas. But in the meantime, how about a kiss Santi-Claus? Randy Meeks: Careful. Please help improve this article by adding citations to reliable sources. Unsourced material may be challenged and removed. This is a dynamic list of songs and may never be able to satisfy particular standards for completeness.

You can help by expanding it with reliably sourced entries. The Historic New Orleans Collection. Retrieved 31 May Those twenty years of my normal life passed without leaving any special record on my memory, and now it is only with a great effort of mind and with utter disgust, that I can concentrate my thoughts upon that time.

Like all the boys of my set, who were of sound mind, I entered school, passed on to the university and went through a course of law studies. Then I entered the State service for a short time, married, and settled down in the country, educating - if our way of bringing up children can be called educating - my children, looking after the land, and filling the post of a Justice of the Peace. It was when I had been married ten years that one of those attacks of madness I suffered from in my childhood made its appearance again.

My wife and I had saved up money from her inheritance and from some Government bonds of mine which I had sold, and we decided that with that money we would buy another estate. I was naturally keen to increase our fortune, and to do it in the shrewdest way, better than any one else would manage it. I went about inquiring what estates were to be sold, and used to read all the advertisements in the papers. What I wanted was to buy an estate, the produce or timber of which would cover the cost of purchase, and then I would have the estate practically for nothing.

I was looking out for a fool who did not understand business, and there came a day when I thought I had found one. An estate with large forests attached to it was to be sold in the Pensa Government.

To judge by the information I had received the proprietor of that estate was exactly the imbecile I wanted, and I might expect the forests to cover the price asked for the whole estate. I got my things ready and was soon on my way to the estate I wished to inspect.

We had first to go by train I had taken my man-servant with me , then by coach, with relays of horses at the various stations. The journey was very pleasant, and my servant, a good-natured youth, liked it as much as I did. We enjoyed the new surroundings and the new people, and having now only about two hundred miles more to drive, we decided to go on without stopping, except to change horses at the stations.

Night came on and we were still driving. I had been dozing, but presently I awoke, seized with a sudden fear. As often happens in such a case, I was so excited that I was thoroughly awake and it seemed as if sleep were gone for ever.

Where am I going? It was not that I disliked the idea of buying an estate at a bargain, but it seemed at that moment so senseless to journey to such a far away place, and I had a feeling as if I were going to die there, away from home. I was overcome with terror. My servant Sergius awoke, and I took advantage of the fact to talk to him. I began to remark upon the scenery around us; he had also a good deal to say, of the people at home, of the pleasure of the journey, and it seemed strange to me that he could talk so gaily.

He appeared so pleased with everything and in such good spirits, whereas I was annoyed with it all. Still, I felt more at ease when I was talking with him. Along with my feelings of restlessness and my secret horror, however, I was fatigued as well, and longed to break the journey somewhere. It seemed to me my uneasiness would cease if I could only enter a room, have tea, and, what I desired most of all, sleep. We were approaching the town Arzamas.

It's an excellent idea. The driver was a quiet, silent man. He was driving rather slowly and wearily. We drove on. I was silent, but I felt better, looking forward to a rest and hoping to feel the better for it. We drove on and on in the darkness, and the seven miles seemed to have no end.

At last we reached the town. It was sound asleep at that early hour. First came the small houses, piercing the darkness, and as we passed them, the noise of our jingling bells and the trotting of our horses sounded louder. In a few places the houses were large and white, but I did not feel less dejected for seeing them. I was waiting for the station, and the samovar, and longed to lie down and rest.

At last we approached a house with pillars in front of it. The house was white, but it seemed to me very melancholy. I felt even frightened at its aspect and stepped slowly out of the carriage. Sergius was busying himself with our luggage, taking what we needed for the night, running about and stepping heavily on the doorsteps. The sound of his brisk tread increased my weariness.

I walked in and came into a small passage. A man received us; he had a large spot on his cheek and that spot filled me with horror. He asked us into a room which was just an ordinary room. My uneasiness was growing. A square room, newly whitewashed. The fact of the little room being square was - I remember it so well - most painful to me. It had one window with a red curtain, a table of birchwood and a sofa with a curved back and arms.

Sergius boiled the water in the samovar and made the tea. I put a pillow on the sofa in the meantime and lay down. I was not asleep; I heard Sergius busy with the samovar and urging me to have tea.

I was afraid to get up from the sofa, afraid of driving away sleep; and just to be sitting in that room seemed awful. I did not get up, but fell into a sort of doze. When I started up out of it, nobody was in the room and it was quite dark.

I woke up with the very same sensation I had the first time and knew sleep was gone. Just as I am I must be for ever. Neither the Pensa nor any other estate will add to or take anything away from me. As for me, I am unbearably weary of myself. I want to go to sleep, to forget - and I cannot, I cannot get rid of self. I went out into the passage. Sergius was sleeping there on a narrow bench, his hand hanging down beside it. He was sleeping soundly, and the man with the spot on his cheek was also asleep.

I thought, by going out of the room, to get away from what was tormenting me. But it followed me and made everything seem dark and dreary. My feeling of horror, instead of leaving me, was increasing. What am I afraid of? I shuddered. Yes, - Death! Death will come, it will come and it ought not to come.

Even in facing actual death I would certainly not feel anything of what I felt now. Then it would be simply fear, whereas now it was more than that. I was actually seeing, feeling the approach of death, and along with it I felt that death ought not to exist. My entire being was conscious of the necessity of the right to live, and at the same time of the inevitability of dying.

This inner conflict was causing me unbearable pain. I tried to shake off the horror; I found a half-burnt candle in a brass candlestick and lighted it.

The candle with its red flame burnt down until it was not much taller than the low candlestick. The same thing seemed to be repeated over and over: nothing lasts, life is not, all is death - but death ought not to exist.

I tried to turn my thoughts to what had interested me before, to the estate I was to buy and to my wife. Far from being a relief, these seemed nothing to me now. To feel my life doomed to be taken from me was a terror shutting out any other thought. I went to bed, but the next instant I jumped up, seized with horror. A sickness overcame me, a spiritual sickness not unlike the physical uneasiness preceding actual illness - but in the spirit, not in the body. A terrible fear similar to the fear of death, when mingled with the recollections of my past life, developed into a horror as if life were departing.

Life and death were flowing into one another. An unknown power was trying to tear my soul into pieces, but could not bend it. Once more I went out into the passage to look at the two men asleep; once more I tried to go to sleep. The horror was always the same - now red, now white and square. Something was tearing within but could not be torn apart. A torturing sensation! An arid hatred deprived me of every spark of kindly feeling.

Just a dull and steady hatred against myself and against that which had created me. What did create me? We say God I had not said a prayer for more than twenty years and I had no religious sentiment, although just for formality's sake I fasted and partook of the communion every year. I began saying prayers; "God, forgive me," "Our Father," "Our Lady," I was composing new prayers, crossing myself, bowing to the earth, looking around me all the while for fear I might be discovered in my devotional attitude.

The prayers seemed to divert my thoughts from the previous terror, but it was more the fear of being seen by somebody that did it. I went to bed again.

I could not stand it any longer. I called the hotel servant, roused Sergius from his sleep, ordered him to harness the horses to the carriage and we were soon driving on once more. The open air and the drive made me feel much better. But I realised that something new had come into my soul, and had poisoned the life I had lived up to that hour. We reached our destination in the evening.

The whole day long I remained struggling with despair, and finally conquered it; but a horror remained in the depth of my soul. It was as if a misfortune had happened to me, and although I was able to forget it for a while, it remained at the bottom of my soul, and I was entirely dominated by it.

The manager of the estate, an old man, received us in a very friendly manner, though not exactly with great joy; he was sorry that the estate was to be sold. The clean little rooms with upholstered furniture, a new, shining samovar on the tea-table, nice large cups, honey served with the tea, - everything was pleasant to see. I began questioning him about the estate without any interest, as if I were repeating a lesson learned long ago and nearly forgotten.

It was so uninteresting. But that night I was able to go to sleep without feeling miserable. I thought this was due to having said my prayers again before going to bed. After that incident I resumed my ordinary life; but the apprehension that this horror would again come upon me was continual.

I had to live my usual life without any respite, not giving way to my thoughts, just like a schoolboy who repeats by habit and without thinking the lesson learned by heart. That was the only way to avoid being seized again by the horror and the despair I had experienced in Arzamas.

I had returned home safe from my journey; I had not bought the estate - I had not enough money. My life at home seemed to be just as it had always been, save for my having taken to saying prayers and to going to church.

But now, when I recollect that time, I see that I only imagined my life to be the same as before. The fact was I merely continued what I had previously started, and was running with the same speed on rails already laid; but I did not undertake anything new. Even in those things which I had already taken in hand my interest had diminished.

I was tired of everything, and was growing very religious. My wife noticed this, and was often vexed with me for it. No new fit of distress occurred while I was at home. But one day I had to go unexpectedly to Moscow, where a lawsuit was pending. In the train I entered into conversation with a land-owner from Kharkov. We were talking about the management of estates, about bank business, about the hotels in Moscow, and the theatres.

We both decided to stop at the "Moscow Court," in the Miasnizkaia Street, and go that evening to the opera, to Faust. When we arrived I was shown into a small room, the heavy smell of the passage being still in my nostrils. In the room next to mine I heard somebody coughing, probably an old man.

The maid went out, and the porter asked whether I wished him to open my bag. In the meanwhile the candle flame had flared up, throwing its light on the blue wallpaper with yellow stripes, on the partition, on the shabby table, on the small sofa in the front of it, on the mirror hanging on the wall, and on the window.

I saw what the small room was like, and suddenly felt the horror of the Arzamas night awakening within me. Must I stay here for the night? How can I? When the bag had been untied I said to the porter, "Please tell the gentleman in Number 8 - the one who came with me - that I shall be ready presently, and ask him to wait for me.

The porter left, and I began to dress in haste, afraid to look at the walls. I am not afraid of ghosts -" Ghosts! Absolutely nothing. I am only afraid of myself I slipped into a cold, rough, starched shirt, stuck in the studs, put on evening dress and new boots, and went to call for the Kharkov landowner, who was ready.

We started for the opera house. He stopped on the way to have his hair curled, while I went to a French hairdresser to have mine cut, where I talked a little to the Frenchwoman in the shop and bought a pair of gloves. Everything seemed all right. I had completely forgotten the oblong room in the hotel, and the walls. I enjoyed the Faust performance very much, and when it was over my companion proposed that we should have supper. This was contrary to my habits; but just at that moment I remembered the walls in my room, and accepted.

We returned home after one. I had two glasses of wine - an unusual thing for me - in spite of which I was feeling quite at ease. But the moment we entered the passage with the lowered lamp lighting it, the moment I was surrounded by the peculiar smell of the hotel. I felt a cold shudder of horror running down my back. But there was nothing to be done. I shook hands with my new friend, and stepped into my room.

I had a frightful night - much worse than the night at Arzamas; and it was not until dawn, when the old man in the next room was coughing again, that I fell asleep - and then not in my bed, but, after getting in and out of it many times, on the sofa. I suffered the whole night unbearably. Once more my soul and my body were tearing themselves apart within me. Then why live? Why not die? Why not kill myself immediately? No; I could not.

I am afraid. Is it better to wait for death to come when it will? No, that is even worse; and I am also afraid of that. Then, I must live. But what for? In order to die?

Ironically, in a show about a killer, where minor and major characters are killed off constantly as part of the show's concept, this death is especially poignant and heartbreaking. Also, Doakes in season 2 and Lundy in season 4 were also major characters who met their ends.

8 thought on “Abomination - Henry Knollenberg - Future Death Nostalgia (File)”

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