I SHOWERED WITH DADDY LENIN... BUT HE WAS SOAP!!!???

PART ONE- THE SHOWERS

You gazed out of your dusty window towards the stormy, ominous sky that lay above. Multitudes of gloomy gray apartment buildings surrounding your home complimented the weather well. The rhythmical clanking of pickaxes in the gulags serenaded your ears. It was another beautiful day in Stalin's Soviet Union. Stalin. He was so hot. God, you wanted a thick chunk of Stalin's scrumptious ass so bad. Not only because you were slowly starving to death- he just looked so beautiful in his crisp suit, standing at his wonderful height of 5'4". You wanted to schlurp that glorious handlebar mustache all night long.

 A sudden knock on your door shocked you out of your daydreaming. Had your rations finally arrived? You sprung from your chair excitedly, dashing towards the door and flinging it open... to find a tiny brown box on the floor. You sighed heavily. No fermented milk and mystery meat soup for you today, apparently. Oh well. You may as well open that little box. The label stuck to the packaging was faded and dirty. You squinted, but could still barely read the words "FROM JOSEPH.STYLIN ON INSTAGRAM- WITH LOVE". What the fuck was an Instagram? Probably some capitalist shit. You ripped open the box angrily, and your eyes were met with absolute beauty. 

A beautiful, handmade, soap bust of Vladimir Lenin! Its color was a glistening pink, dotted with luminescent sparkles. Tears leaked from the corners of your eyes as you beheld his shimmering splendor. "I will bathe with this immediately!!!" you cried aloud, thanking Stalin for this glorious gift as you rushed off towards the communal showers in a fit of glee. You slammed through the double doors leading to the bathing area, and zoomed faster than a Cold War nuke to turn on the tap. Too quick! You tripped spectacularly on a small puddle, falling head-over-heels in slow motion. You clenched your eyes and your assholes shut as you braced for impact with the cold stone floor...

...but it never came, just like your ex-wife. You slowly opened your eyes. It was Lenin! Lenin was standing there! A life- sized, soapy Lenin! His sparkly, lemon-scented embrace comforted you. He patted your head. "There, there, fellow Bolshevik. I will protect you." You raised your head and stared into his steely Russian irises. Lenin returned your gaze. Noticing your awe, the corners of his mouth crinkled upwards into a dashing smile. It was only then that you realized. Lenin was completely naked. His massive 12-inch hot pink soap dong swung majestically in front of your face. "Holy fuck..." you whispered weakly. Lenin's face grew stern. "This won't do at all... you've got quite a crude tone. I may just need to wash out your mouth, comrade." Just as the implications of Lenin's words hit you, Lenin seized you like the means of production and pushed you gently to your knees. His cleanser cock slid past your malnourished lips and began pumping back and forth. You gladly accepted his soapy dick into your throat, letting it reach all the way down into your esophagus. Your 13 assholes twitched in pleasure as you smelled his erotic lemon penis. Lenin grunted and groaned like a gorilla on crack, finally releasing his pink suds deep into your digestive system, causing severe internal bleeding. Lenin yanked out his limp soap noodle and you dropped to the floor, your ruptured spleen pounding with agony and happiness. 

As you lay on the floor regurgitating soap suds, the double doors slammed open. Stalin stormed in, a furious glare on his face. Soap Lenin spoke. "You believed I was dead? True Slavs always return. Cyka blyat." You scrambled to your feet and saluted, staring at the glorious leader of Soviet Russia as he continued towards Soap Lenin. He came to a halt directly in front of Soap Lenin. Everything about Stalin commanded respect, his crisp uniform and army boots looked like they could crush all 25 of your nutsacks. You watched on in awe and dread as the great Stalin slowly opened his mouth to speak...

"OwO".

You jumped in shock.

"l-lenin senpai... >////<"

Yeah, this was fuckin weird. Was your great leader actually...

"hewwo dwaddy!!!! nya desu!!! ur so kawaii!!!"

...a furry weeb? 

Stalin sprouted neko ears and a cat tail. His shirt popped apart, revealing a bell collar and a massive triple-D pair of anime titties. 

As your stomach's inner lining ripped apart and your vision began to fade to black, your last sight was Soap Lenin shoving a pink, glittery fist up Weeb Stalin's crusty urethra.