Parole board refuses early release for convicted killer Oscar Pistorius 

By
Gbenga Teejay Okunlola
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81
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Oscar with Reeva Steenkamp

The former Olympic and Paralympic athlete, known as the Blade Runner, had applied for parole after serving half of his jail term.

Disgraced South African sprinter Oscar Pistorius has been denied early release from prison, ten years after he was convicted of killing his girlfriend Reeva Steenkamp.

Pistorius, who is serving more than 13 years for her murder, applied for a parole hearing last year, arguing that he had served more than half his sentence.

Oscar-Pistorius

But on Friday the board, which includes representatives from the prison service, police, and civilians, ruled that he will have to stay in prison for at least another year and four months after it was decided that he had not served the “minimum detention period” required to be released.

The parole board hearing Pistorius’ application ruled he would be able to apply again in August 2024, South Africa’s Department of Corrections said in a statement. The board cited a new clarification on Pistorius’ sentence that was issued by South Africa’s Supreme Court of Appeal three days ago, according to the statement.

June-Steenkamp-the-mother-of-Reeva-Steenkamp

The result was a surprise but there has been legal wrangling over when Pistorius should be eligible for parole because of the series of appeals in his case. He was initially convicted of culpable homicide, a charge comparable to manslaughter, in 2014. Still, the case went through a number of appeals before Pistorius was finally sentenced to 13 years and five months in prison for murder in 2017.

Tania Koen, a lawyer for the Steenkamp family, told reporters: “I can confirm that parole has been denied, they will reconvene in a year to reconsider him again and we don’t know the reasons yet [for the denial].”I’ve just received a call from the parole board It is a huge sense of relief for June.”

Reeva Steenkamp

Steenkamp’s parents still believe he is lying about their daughter’s killing and opposed the former Olympic runner’s application for parole, their lawyer said Friday.

Pistorius took part in the London 2012 Olympics

“Unless he comes clean, they don’t feel that he is rehabilitated,” lawyer Tania Koen told reporters outside the Atteridgeville Correctional Centre prison in Pretoria, where Pistorius has been incarcerated since 2016 where his parole hearing took place Friday.

“He’s the killer of their daughter. For them, it’s a life sentence,” Koen said before the hearing.

Earlier, Reeva’s mother June Steenkamp told Sky News that Pistorius was “not remorseful or rehabilitated” ahead of the hearing. 

Author: Gbenga Teejay Okunlola

London, UK

teejayok@gmail.com

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  11. Garrett thinks to himself; he did not wear a jock home from practice. He was ‘going commando.” Is it his older brother’s jock? “Oh, well. “He mumbles to himself as he takes another whiff of the musky scented pouch of the jock.
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  12. “Then, what is this, father.” He says as he wrestles his cock in a fierce grip and squeezes it like he is fighting against a serpent unleashed from its coil. “What?’ He balks at the suggestion from his dad.

  13. His father steps into the shower, turning on the water. As he soaks and lathers himself up under the lukewarm stream of water, he fondles his cock and balls. His cock soon mimics that of his son. “You lettin’ the beard grow on your face, I see, son?” His father asks him, as his head bumps up under the chin of his towering son.

  14. His father loosens his grip on the full balls of his son as he stands. He can see the spurts of hair that dot the chest of his son. And he can see the heaving and gentle rise and fall of his son’s chest, as he breathes, as his excitement builds. “I am fully grown now, Father.” He says in a heated rebuttal to his father’s words.

  15. His father unbuttons his shirt and throws it to the bathroom floor. Where his son is like the mythical David, cast in stone with blonde locks and cherubic face. The father is dark and with a day’s growth of stubble on his face. Garrett nods his head as he wraps the jock over his head, and takes a hearty breathe of the pouch placed over his nose.

  16. “I am fully grown now, Father.” He says in a heated rebuttal to his father’s words. “What did Coach have to say when he saw all those hard-young cocks in the locker room?” His dad asks.

  17. “My hard-on. Somewhat. But I have them all the time. You know that. You’ve made enough comments about me sportin’ boners in the morning when you see them at breakfast.” “You know what you have to do. Doncha. Son.” His dad says.

  18. His father steps into the shower, turning on the water. As he soaks and lathers himself up under the lukewarm stream of water, he fondles his cock and balls. His cock soon mimics that of his son. His father rakes the clear juice of his son’s leaking manhood over the boy’s tensed cockhead.

  19. “What ya lifting now?” His dad asks as he fidgets on the commode seat. He can feel his hard-on growing in his pants. “What?’ He balks at the suggestion from his dad.

  20. “Stoke your cock while you sniff that jock.” The helmet of the man’s cock weaves a picture of no recognition as the father’s cum streaks itself through the watery haze.

  21. Garrett does not go hog-wild on his tool. He caresses and adores it like one would an idol. Daddy was furious as I could hear his deep breath. He sat down on the bench by the door. I was looking down afraid he was going to kick my ass. He lifted my head from my chin using the tip of his loafer where I can smell that smelly sheer socks he has been worn all day. Just when our eyes met, a big stinky manly wad landed on my face. Then I felt a big rough hand rubbing the spit all over my face. I heard the daddy say, “ next time remember what I told you exactly, I don’t want this to happen again, you hear me? I paused and said, “ yeeee…”. Before I finished the sentence, another spit and a big slap on me. “ when I told you something you must say yes. There is no room for you to argue or think, understood?” He said in a deep and firm tone. “ yes sir”. Without missing a beep I said it. “good boy, your night is just about to start.”

  22. “I’m am nearly 6 foot 2 inches tall, dad. I weigh 210 lbs. I think, dad. At least I was the last time we were weighed at football practice.” The son says. “Much bigger than you, I should say.” He lifts his head from its bowed stance and looks into the eyes of his father wanting some acknowledgement.

  23. “Stoke it, boy! Stroke it! Stroke that beautiful cock!” His father demands as his own cock draws on the wet interior of the glass enclosure shower. “Pound it harder, boy! Pound it harder!” His father unbuttons his shirt and throws it to the bathroom floor. Where his son is like the mythical David, cast in stone with blonde locks and cherubic face. The father is dark and with a day’s growth of stubble on his face.

  24. Garrett nods his head as he wraps the jock over his head, and takes a hearty breathe of the pouch placed over his nose. “Yep. I’ve had one since I put on my gear at practice today.” He tells his dad.

  25. “Yes, sir.” He says as he straightens up, standing erect as his member pulses to life between his legs, and in his father’s right hand, which are firmly locked on his balls. “Yes, sir, I do.” I used my teeth to strip off daddy’s black sheer socks. I placed them in my mouth and washed them with my saliva. I swallowed every single sweat and stink from these socks. It takes so well. I rolled them into a ball and stuck them into my jockstrap where my small dick and balls were.

  26. “Lookin’ good, son. Lookin’ good.” His dad says over the stream of the warm cleansing water as it caresses his mature man body. “This is what a man looks like, son.” His father says as his pants fall to the floor. From his waist out pops his representation of a 40-year-old-man. And father of two teenage boys. His cock.

  28. I used my teeth to strip off daddy’s black sheer socks. I placed them in my mouth and washed them with my saliva. I swallowed every single sweat and stink from these socks. It takes so well. I rolled them into a ball and stuck them into my jockstrap where my small dick and balls were. Garrett sits on the commode, where his father had sat.

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  29. He reaches for and cups the wiggling low hangers of his teenage son. “That you are, son. You are busting at the seams with your youth and muscles. Rippled from those vigorous physical workouts and stroking sessions. I bet.” His dad says. “You are gonna hafta to take care of that or you are gonna be miserable. You know that son, doncha. You know, I am right.”

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  30. “Was it because of that?” His dad asks as he points a finger towards him. And his midsection. He does not hear the slamming of the front door. Neither does he hear the footsteps on the wood floor in the hallway. The shower drowns away all this noise.

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  31. All the blood rushes from his brain to his throbbing erection plus the heat of the shower, making the young lad, light-headed. “Yeah.” He answers his dad. “…and I was ‘going commando’ too.”

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  32. “It was intense. Really intense. We ran so many drills. I am exhausted.” He explains. “Yep. I’ve had one since I put on my gear at practice today.” He tells his dad.

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  33. He runs the towel through his curl-filled hair, and down over his chest, where the early signs of his manhood sprout like an uneven crop of hairs across his chest that run down to his furry-pillowed crotch. Where the throbbing from his hard-on springs back as the damp towel whips his erection back and forth with each swipe of the now dampened towel. “I knew ya couldn’t keep your hands off it.” His dad says. “Men can’t do it, we are drawn to our cocks, like a moth to a flame, and usually that burning sensation that a man feels is the cum boiling up in our balls. You know that feelin’ doncha son?”

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  34. “Stoke your cock while you sniff that jock.” “Yeah, dad, it’s me.” He shouts over the blistering rush of the shower spray as it pelts him hotly with force. “It was a rough practice.”

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  36. “Then, what is this, father.” He says as he wrestles his cock in a fierce grip and squeezes it like he is fighting against a serpent unleashed from its coil. “Was it because of that?” His dad asks as he points a finger towards him. And his midsection.

  37. “That you, son?” A voice chimes in from the hallway. His dad’s cock does not curve like that of his son, it angles like a fishing rod looking for fish under rushing river waters, from the deep furry patch between the father’s legs.

  38. “Have you fucked, son? Have you fucked? Have you dumped that seed of yours in those balls into a moist hole?” His father asks as he leans forward on the commode-chair. His hand squeezing the bulge growing larger in his tan khakis. “What happened at today’s practice today that was so different from any other day, son?” His dad asks.

  39. “I think all of us were sprouting wood, today, dad.” He says. “Coach even noticed how hard we all were.” “You have not fucked, have you, my son? Have you?” His father asks, as he readjusts the cock covered and swelling in his khaki pants. “I thought as much.”

  40. His father kicks the shoes from his feet and slides his khaki pants off, while still holding, the resistant nut-sac of his virile son in his right hand. He is now as naked as his 17-year-old son. “What did Coach have to say when he saw all those hard-young cocks in the locker room?” His dad asks.

  41. “My hard-on. Somewhat. But I have them all the time. You know that. You’ve made enough comments about me sportin’ boners in the morning when you see them at breakfast.” “Coach told us. To go beat off. Seeing all those tents in our shorts; he said we should have all been working out naked. Our shorts weren’t covering up, anything, as our cock’s periscoped out and over the elastic waistbands of our shorts.” He says to his dad as he steps from the shower.

  42. “That you are, son. You are busting at the seams with your youth and muscles. Rippled from those vigorous physical workouts and stroking sessions. I bet.” His dad says. “You are gonna hafta to take care of that or you are gonna be miserable. You know that son, doncha. You know, I am right.” “Yeah, dad, it’s me.” He shouts over the blistering rush of the shower spray as it pelts him hotly with force. “It was a rough practice.”

  43. “You know what you have to do. Doncha. Son.” His dad says. “Coach told us. To go beat off. Seeing all those tents in our shorts; he said we should have all been working out naked. Our shorts weren’t covering up, anything, as our cock’s periscoped out and over the elastic waistbands of our shorts.” He says to his dad as he steps from the shower.

  44. I used my teeth to strip off daddy’s black sheer socks. I placed them in my mouth and washed them with my saliva. I swallowed every single sweat and stink from these socks. It takes so well. I rolled them into a ball and stuck them into my jockstrap where my small dick and balls were. “Back in the day, back before we turned into a modern society, a man would grab another man’s balls and swear an oath on them in his hand and state his words to be true. To be a friend” His father says. “Do you know what I mean, son?”

  45. His father unbuttons his shirt and throws it to the bathroom floor. Where his son is like the mythical David, cast in stone with blonde locks and cherubic face. The father is dark and with a day’s growth of stubble on his face. Daddy gave me a look implying his shoes are needed to be removed. “Can I take off your loafers, daddy ?” I asked so quietly. He looked at me and nodded. I took off both his loafers and put them away neatly in front of me. Daddy then raised his right leg and stepped on my forehead, pushing me down into his loafers. It is a mixed smell with sweat, testosterone, and leather. I couldn’t help but take a big whiff every time I breathed. “Hands-on the floor” he commanded. He moved his feet from my head to my hands. “Kiss them and make the stink goes away using only your fag tongue.” “Yes sir.”

  46. “That is your cock, son.” His father, says. “…but it does not make you a man. It only makes you a boy with a hard cock in his hand.” “Then, what is this, father.” He says as he wrestles his cock in a fierce grip and squeezes it like he is fighting against a serpent unleashed from its coil.

  48. “What…huh…what, dad?” He asks, puzzled by the question from his dad. As his cock is mere inches from his dad’s face. All the blood rushes from his brain to his throbbing erection plus the heat of the shower, making the young lad, light-headed.

  49. “I ain’t a-talking ‘bout how big ya cock is, boy. I am talking ‘bout ya, weight. Your height.” His dad says. “I kinda figured on how big you are down there. That’s obvious. It makes me proud of you. My son. Of what I created, along with ya mother.” “What?’ He balks at the suggestion from his dad.

  52. His father steps into the shower, turning on the water. As he soaks and lathers himself up under the lukewarm stream of water, he fondles his cock and balls. His cock soon mimics that of his son.

  53. The now lukewarm water streams through the curls of his hair rinsing away the last vestiges of the soapy lather. It all goes down the drain in a swirl of bubbles.

  54. Exactly a week after, daddy texted me with a different tone saying, “ get your ass ready tonight cause daddy is coming to your place tonight.” He was usually really sweet and nice, I was shot when I got the message. But automatically I said, “ yes daddy!” I guess I am a slutty whore for him right at the beginning as I knew my place where is always going to be inferior.

  56. Daddy gave me a look implying his shoes are needed to be removed. “Can I take off your loafers, daddy ?” I asked so quietly. He looked at me and nodded. I took off both his loafers and put them away neatly in front of me. Daddy then raised his right leg and stepped on my forehead, pushing me down into his loafers. It is a mixed smell with sweat, testosterone, and leather. I couldn’t help but take a big whiff every time I breathed. “Hands-on the floor” he commanded. He moved his feet from my head to my hands. “Kiss them and make the stink goes away using only your fag tongue.” “Yes sir.”

  58. The pre-cum leaks, like a babbling brook, from the boy’s erect and pulsing cock, depositing its tiny droplets of juice onto the arm-hairs of his proud father. His father squeezes the nuts of his son, tighter and tighter, releasing more of the youthful essence.

  61. “Yes, sir.” He says as he straightens up, standing erect as his member pulses to life between his legs, and in his father’s right hand, which are firmly locked on his balls. “Yes, sir, I do.”

  63. “I look forward to the day when you are a fully grown man, my son.” His father says. “I am anxious to see the fruit of my loins reach his fully-adorned manhood. Adulthood.”

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