Spying on my sister naked

What Director had the best run in the 50s? General Discussion. Billy Wilder:Sunset Boulevard, Sabrina, Stalag 17, Witness for the Prosecution, Ace in the Hole, Some Like It Hot, The Spirit of St. Louis, Love in the Afternoon, and The Seven Year Itch. Best run in terms of anything Alfred Hitchcock: Vertigo, Rear Window, North by Northwest, Strangers on a Train, To Catch a Thief, Dial M for Murder, I Confess, Stage Fright, The Trouble with Harry, The Man Who Knew Too Much, and The Wrong Man. Personally I think the 50s was the single best decade for movies. You had the classic Hollywood directors at their height and you also had a number of notable foreign films from major filmmakers given that the world wasn't at war anymore. It really was the best of all worlds. A New York City advertising executive goes on the run after being mistaken for a government agent by a group of foreign spies. Director: Alfred Hitchcock | Stars: Cary Grant, Eva Marie Saint, James Mason, Jessie Royce Landis. Votes: 292,122 | Gross: $13.28M The 50 Greatest Directors and Their 100 Best Movies ... (TAKE THE MONEY AND RUN, ... had the German-born silent director not died in a car crash at age 42, is one of Hollywood’s great what-ifs. ... Best run in terms of anything Alfred Hitchcock: Vertigo, Rear Window, North by Northwest, Strangers on a Train, To Catch a Thief, Dial M for Murder, I Confess, Stage Fright, The Trouble with Harry, The Man Who Knew Too Much, and The Wrong Man. It could be best run in terms of anything Ingrid Bergman: Fear, Europe '51, Stromboli, Anastasia, Journey to Italy, Joan of Arc at the Stake, Elena and Her Men, and The Inn of the Sixth Happiness. Dorothy Dandridge: Bright Road, Carmen Jones, Island in the Sun, Tamango, The Decks Ran Red, and Porgy and Bess. Which Director had the best run in the 50s? Discussion Alfred Hitchcock: Vertigo, Rear Window, North by Northwest, Strangers on a Train, To Catch a Thief, Dial M for Murder, I Confess, Stage Fright, The Trouble with Harry, The Man Who Knew Too Much, and The Wrong Man. What Actor had the best run in the 50s? Discussion. It could be best run in terms of anything. Marlon Brando: The Men, A Streetcar Named Desire, Viva Zapata!, Julius Caesar, The Wild One, On the Waterfront, Désirée, Guys and Dolls, The Teahouse of the August Moon, Sayonara, and The Young Lions. ...

2020.09.16 21:49 Britneyfan456 My sister on naked spying

It could be best run in terms of anything
Alfred Hitchcock: Vertigo, Rear Window, North by Northwest, Strangers on a Train, To Catch a Thief, Dial M for Murder, I Confess, Stage Fright, The Trouble with Harry, The Man Who Knew Too Much, and The Wrong Man.
Nicholas Ray: In a Lonely Place, Rebel Without a Cause, Bigger Than Life, Johnny Guitar, Bitter Victory, Macao, On Dangerous Ground, Party Girl, The Lusty Men, and Run for Cover.
Ingmar Bergman: The Seventh Seal, Smiles of a Summer Night, Wild Strawberries, Dreams, Summer Interlude, A Lesson in Love, The Magician, Secrets of Women, and Summer with Monika.
Billy Wilder: Sunset Boulevard, Sabrina, Some Like It, Stalag 17, Witness for the Prosecution, The Seven Year Itch, Ace in the Hole, Love in the Afternoon, and The Spirit of St. Louis.
Fred Zinnemann: From Here to Eternity, High Noon, The Men, Oklahoma!, The Nun's Story, A Hatful of Rain, The Old Man and the Sea, Teresa, and The Member of the Wedding. George Stevens: Shane, Giant, A Place in the Sun, The Diary of Anne Frank, and Something to Live For.
John Huston: The Asphalt Jungle, The African Queen, The Red Badge of Courage, Moby Dick, Beat the Devil, The Barbarian and the Geisha, Heaven Knows, Mr. Allison, The Roots of Heaven, and Moulin Rouge.
Elia Kazan: On the Waterfront, A Streetcar Named Desire, East of Eden, Panic in the Streets, Baby Doll, A Face in the Crowd, Viva Zapata!, and Man on a Tightrope.
William Wyler: Ben Hur, Roman Holiday, The Big Country, Friendly Persuasion, Carrie, Detective Story, and The Desperate Hours.
Otto Preminger: The Man with the Golden Arm, Anatomy of a Murder, Where the Sidewalk Ends, The 13th Letter, Angel Face, The Moon Is Blue, Carmen Jones, Bonjour Tristesse, Porgy and Bess, Saint Joan, and
Federico Fellini: La Strada, Nights of Cabiria, I Vitelloni, Il bidone, The White Sheik, and Variety Lights.
Robert Wise: The Day the Earth Stood Still, Destination Gobi, This Could Be the Night, Run Silent, Run Deep, I Want to Live!, Odds Against Tomorrow, Executive Suite, Two Flags West, Somebody Up There Likes Me, The Desert Rats, So Big, and House on Telegraph Hill.
Fritz Lang: The Big Heat, Clash by Night, House by the River, American Guerrilla in the Philippines, While the City Sleeps, Human Desire, Rancho Notorious, and Moonfleet.
Akira Kurosawa: Rashomon, Seven Samurai, Ikiru, The Hidden Fortress, The Idiot, Throne of Blood, I Live in Fear, and The Lower Depths.
Orson Welles: Othello, Touch of evil, and Mr. Arkadin.
Stanley Kubrick: The Killing, Paths of Glory, Fear and Desire, and Killer's Kiss.
Luis Buñuel: Los Olvidados, El, Mexican Bus Ride, Robinson Crusoe, The Criminal Life of Archibaldo de la Cruz, and Nazarín.
Michael Curtiz: The Breaking Point, White Christmas, We're No Angels, King Creole, The Jazz Singer, The Egyptian, I'll See You in My Dreams, The Vagabond King, and The Proud Rebel.
John Ford: The Searchers, The Quiet Man, Mister Roberts, Wagon Master, Rio Grande, The Sun Shines Bright, Mogambo, The Long Gray Line, The Horse Soldiers, The Last Hurrah, The Wings of Eagles, What Price Glory, and When Willie Comes Marching Home.
Joseph L. Mankiewicz: All About Eve, No Way Out, People Will Talk, 5 Fingers, Julius Caesar, Guys and Dolls, The Barefoot Contessa, The Quiet American, and Suddenly, Last Summer.
Vincente Minnelli: The Bad and the Beautiful, Gigi, The Band Wagon, An American in Paris, Some Came Running, Designing Woman, Tea and Sympathy, The Cobweb, The Long, Long Trailer, Father of the Bride, Father's Little Dividend, Brigadoon, The Story of Three Loves, Lust for Life, and Kismet.
Robert Bresson: The Diary of a Country Girl, Pick Pocket, and A Man Escaped.
Yasujirō Ozu: Tokyo Story, Floating Weeds, The Munekata Sisters, Early Summer, Early Spring, Tokyo Twilight, Good Morning, Equinox Flower, and The Flavor of Green Tea over Rice.
Alexander Mackendrick: The Lady Killers, Sweet Smell of Success, The Man in the White Suit, Mandy, and The Maggie.
Douglas Sirk: Written on the Wind, Imitation of Life, All That Heaven Allows, Magnificent Obsession, A Time to Love and a Time to Die, There's Always Tomorrow, The Tarnished Angels, Battle Hymn, The First Legion, All I Desire, Take Me to Town, Meet Me at the Fair, and Interlude.
Satyajit Ray: The Apu Trilogy, The Music Room, and Parash Pathar.
Robert Aldrich: Kiss Me Deadly, Vera Cruz, The Big Knife, Autumn Leaves, The Angry Hills, Ten Seconds to Hell, Apache, and Big Leaguer.
Richard Brooks: Blackboard Jungle, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, Deadline – U.S.A., Crisis, Battle Circus, The Last Time I Saw Paris, Take the High Ground!, The Last Hunt, and The Brothers Karamazov.
George Cukor: A Star Is Born, Born Yesterday, Bhowani Junction, It Should Happen to You, Les Girls, Wild is the Wind, The Actress, Pat and Mike, Hot Spell, A Life of Her Own, and The Marrying Kind.
Byron Haskin: The War of the Worlds, The First Texan, Conquest of Space, From the Earth to the Moon, The Little Savage, The Boss, Tarzan's Peril, His Majesty O'Keefe, Warpath, Silver City, And Treasure Island.
Howard Hawks: Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, Rio Bravo, The Big Sky, Monkey Business, Land of the Pharaohs, and O. Henry's Full House.
Roberto Rossellini: Where Is Freedom?, Journey to Italy, General Della Rovere, Europe '51, The Machine to Kill Bad People, We, the Women, The Ways of Love, Francesco, giullare di Dio, Stromboli, Fear, India: Matri Bhumi, and Joan of Arc at the Stake.
Jean Renoir: The Ways of Love, French Cancan, The River, Elena and Her Men, Elena and Her Men, The Doctor's Horrible Experiment, and Picnic on the Grass.
Jules Dassin: Night and The City, Rififi, He Who Must Die, and The Law.
Vittorio De Sica: Terminal Station, Umberto D., Miracle in Milan, The Roof, and Anna of Brooklyn.
Kenji Mizoguchi: Ugetsu, The Life of Oharu, The Crucified Lovers, Sansho the Bailiff, The Woman in the Rumor, A Geisha, Princess Yang Kwei Fei, Shin Heike Monogatari, and Street of Shame.
Roy Ward Baker: A Night to Remember, Don't Bother to Knock, I'll Never Forget You, Morning Departure, Highly Dangerous, Inferno, Night Without Sleep, The One That Got Away, Passage Home, Jacqueline, and Tiger in the Smoke.
Henri-Georges Clouzot: The Wages of Fear, Les Diaboliques, Les Espions, The Mystery of Picasso, and Miquette.
Anthony Mann: The Man from Laramie, The Naked Spur, Winchester '73, The Glenn Miller Story, Side Street, The Tall Target, Devil's Doorway, The Furies, Bend of the River, Man of the West, God's Little Acre, Men in War, Strategic Air Command, The Tin Star, Serenade, The Far Country, and The Last Frontier.
Don Siegel: Crime in the Streets, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, Edge of Eternity, Baby Face Nelson, Spanish Affair, The Duel at Silver Creek, An Annapolis Story, Riot in Cell Block 11, China Venture, Private Hell 36, The Lineup, Hound-Dog Man, and Count the Hours.
John Sturges: Bad Day at Black Rock, Gunfight at the O.K. Corral, The People Against O'Hara, Escape from Fort Bravo, The Old Man and the Sea, Backlash, The Scarlet Coat, Jeopardy, Fast Company, Mystery Street, Right Cross, Last Train from Gun Hill, The Law and Jake Wade, Big Country, and Underwater!.
Samuel Fuller: Pickup on South Street, Hell and High Water, The
Crimson Kimono, Forty Guns, Dog Face, Run of the Arrow, China Gate, House of Bamboo, Verboten!, The Steel Helmet, The Baron of Arizona, Park Row, and Fixed Bayonets!.
Joseph H. Lewis: The Big Combo, Retreat, Hell!, A Lady Without Passport, Desperate Search, Man on a Bus, Cry of the Hunted, A Lawless Street, The Halliday Brand, Terror in a Texas Town, and 7th Cavalry.
Jean-Pierre Melville: Les Enfants Terribles, Orpheus, Quatre sans millions!, When You Read This Letter, Bob le flambeur, and Two Men in Manhattan.
Phil Carlson: The Phenix City Story, Kansas City Confidential, 99 River Street, Hell's Island, The Iroquois Trail, The Brigand, Scandal Sheet, Gunman's Walk, Mask of the Avenger, Lorna Doone, The Texas Rangers, Tight Spot, They Rode West, The Brothers Rico, and 5 Against the House.
Martin Ritt: The Long, Hot Summer, Edge of the City, The Black Orchid, No Down Payment, and The Sound and the Fury.
Louis Malle: Les Amants, Elevator to the Gallows, Crazeologie, and Station 307.
Carol Reed: Our Man in Havana, The Key, Trapeze, The Man Between, A Kid for Two Farthings, and Outcast of the Islands.
Masaki Kobayashi: The Human Condition Trilogy, Youth of the Son, Three Loves, Somewhere Under The Broad Sky, The Spring, Beautiful Days, I Will Buy You, Black River, Sincere Heart, and The Thick-Walled Room.
Stanley Donen: Singin' in the Rain, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, Royal Wedding, Funny Face, Indiscreet, Damn Yankees, The Pajama Game, Kiss Them for Me, and It's Always Fair Weather.
Gene Kelly: It's Always Fair Weather, Singin' in the Rain, Invitation to the Dance, and The Tunnel of Love.
Ida Lupino: The Hitch-Hiker, Outrage, The Bigamist, and Hard, Fast and Beautiful.
Budd Boetticher: The Tall T, Bullfighter and the Lady, City Beneath the Sea, East of Sumatra, Red Ball Express, Seven Men from Now, The Killer Is Loose, Ride Lonesome, Buchanan Rides Alone, Decision at Sundown, Westbound, The Magnificent Matador, The Man from the Alamo, Seminole, The Cimarron Kid, Killer Shark, Bronco Buster, Wings of the Hawk, and Horizons West.
Andre DeToth: Day of the Outlaw, House of Wax, Man in the Saddle, Riding Shotgun, Crime Wave, Last of the Comanches, Tanganyika, The Bounty Hunter, Hidden Fear, The Indian Fighter, Monkey on My Back, The Two-Headed Spy, Thunder Over the Plains, The Stranger Wore a Gun, Carson City, and Springfield Rifle.
Delmer Daves: 3:10 to Yuma, Broken Arrow, Demetrius and the Gladiators, White Feather, Drum Beat, Treasure of the Golden Condor, Jubal, The Last Wagon, Kings Go Forth, Cowboy, The Badlanders, The Hanging Tree, A Summer Place, Bird of Paradise, and Never Let Me Go.
William A. Wellman: Track of the Cat, The High and the Mighty, Blood Alley, Darby's Rangers, Lafayette Escadrille, Good-bye, My Lady, The Next Voice You Hear..., Westward the Women, Island in the Sky, My Man and I, Across the Wide Missouri, and The Happy Years.
Max Ophüls: La Ronde, The Earrings of Madame de…, Lola Montès, and Le Plaisir.
Delbert Mann: Marty, The Bachelor Party, Desire Under the Elms, Middle of the Night, and Separate Tables.
David Lean: The Bridge on the River Kwai, Madeleine, The Sound Barrier, Summertime, and Hobson's Choice.
submitted by Britneyfan456 to movies [link] [comments]


2020.09.13 14:02 BadiolaBB Naked sister my spying on

Hi all,
First story as a long time fan of BB. Contains family BB as you'd expect from the title, and is mainly non-consensual.
My preference is for realistic scenarios in BB, hence why siblings are of particular interest. Any stories I do will rarely fall into Hardcore territory, and will include only one or two busts at a time. This first part does not contain any actual kicking, which begins in Part 2.
This story also contains some female body lust.
Let me know if you like it. Got the first 3 parts (of likely 4/5) written up already, so ready to post more if people want to read!


Part 1a:
“You couldn’t beat me in a fight, boys are much stronger!”
John always had a habit of winding up his two older sisters, Amie and Ellie, but even for him this summer had been out of hand. The whole family, Amie, Ellie, John and their mum, had been locked down for months now. Usually the girls would spend as little time with John as possible, but now they’d suddenly found themselves in each other's company all the time.
They’d gotten well used to him asking them stupid questions and acting up around them, but now they couldn’t get away, and he seemed to be getting more and more clingy and behaving stranger around them every day.
Ellie, the eldest sister, had found him hanging around outside her room after she’d just got out the shower. When she grabbed him he went bright red and ran away. A few days later Amie was getting ready for bed when she noticed him hiding under her bed. She had screamed at him to get out, and pushed him towards the door while he, again bright red, insisted he was playing a game.
They’d both complained to their mum, who, despite being a bit concerned, had given John the benefit of the doubt. It had been a strange time for everyone, and she still liked to see John as the naive baby of the family. This frustrated the girls, who were sure he was up to something and being a bit of a creep. Ellie especially couldn’t bear the thought of anyone spying on her little sister, much less her own brother.
The girls had to have a plan to look after each other, and they thought it’d be pretty easy to lure him in...
It was 9pm and the girls were sat together in their t-shirts and pyjama shorts. John burst into the room, interrupting a private conversation they were having about boys, to offer them a knuckle sandwich.
The girls looked at each other. This might be it. Ellie replied “You can try if you want. Do you want to walk like a penguin?”, which made Amie burst out laughing.
John looked confused and a little anxious. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t worry, you’ll find out!” Amie replied, both of them giggling away.
John felt a strange sense of both fear and excitement. He looked over at both girls, laughing at something that he didn’t understand and thought he ought to be worried about; but he couldn’t help but want to find out.
Ellie stood up. “Are you going to punch me then? Are you going to beat me up?”
“I could if I wanted to!”
Both girls laughed at him again. Amie stood up next to Ellie and said “You couldn’t even beat me up, never mind Ellie!”
John looked up and down at both girls, and took a step towards them. Just a few feet away, Ellie seemed to tower over him. Amie was shorter than her sister, but still a bit taller than John. Maybe they both had a size advantage, but he could still beat them up, right? He was a boy!
His heart was beating fast now. He wanted to fight with both of them and imagined himself rolling them around in their little shorts before winning. He was confident he could beat Amie up, and thought he would ultimately get the best of Ellie too.
“You couldn’t beat me in a fight, boys are much stronger!”
Ellie and Amie smiled at each other. They had him just where they wanted him.
“Is that right? Ok, what if you fight Amie tomorrow night? I’ll be the referee”
“Ok, but I’m not going easy on you just because you’re a girl!”
“If you’re sure about that. Punches and kicks are allowed then?”
“Yeah, I’ll karate kick you Amie! Huyyaaahhh!”
John kicked into the air, though it didn’t reach any higher than Ellie’s waist. The girls both laughed again.
“Save it for tomorrow, Karate Kid.”
Part 1b:
John went to bed that night thinking about the girls. What if they wrestled him in the same clothes they had on tonight? Maybe Amie wouldn’t have any pants on under her little shorts, and they’d slide across while they were wrestling. Maybe Ellie would jump in to try and defend Amie and he’d get to pin her against the floor too. Maybe he’d manage to “accidentally” pull their tops up while rolling around so he could see their boobs.
He’d been hoping for months now to catch a glance of one of them naked. He knew they’d find that disgusting, so he had to be careful how he did it… but the urge was getting stronger and he was taking more risks.
What did they mean by the penguin thing? The way they threatened and laughed at him made him feel a little intimidated, and that might have been the most exciting thought of all.
Meanwhile Amie snuck into Ellie’s room, where they giggled away about their plan.
Their little brother was getting his balls kicked tomorrow, and they knew this was only going to be the start of their fun.
submitted by BadiolaBB to BallbustingStories [link] [comments]


2020.09.11 23:02 Britneyfan456 Spying on my sister naked

Best run in terms of anything
Alfred Hitchcock: Vertigo, Rear Window, North by Northwest, Strangers on a Train, To Catch a Thief, Dial M for Murder, I Confess, Stage Fright, The Trouble with Harry, The Man Who Knew Too Much, and The Wrong Man.
Nicholas Ray: In a Lonely Place, Rebel Without a Cause, Bigger Than Life, Johnny Guitar, Bitter Victory, Macao, On Dangerous Ground, Party Girl, The Lusty Men, Run for Cover, Born to Be Bad, The Racket, Flying Leathernecks, Androcles and the Lion, The True Story of Jesse James, Hot Blood, and Wind Across the Everglades.
Ingmar Bergman: The Seventh Seal, Smiles of a Summer Night, Wild Strawberries, Dreams, Summer Interlude, A Lesson in Love, The Magician, Secrets of Women, and Summer with Monika.
Billy Wilder: Sunset Boulevard, Sabrina, Some Like It, Stalag 17, Witness for the Prosecution, The Seven Year Itch, Ace in the Hole, Love in the Afternoon, and The Spirit of St. Louis.
Fred Zinnemann: From Here to Eternity, High Noon, The Men, Oklahoma!, The Nun's Story, A Hatful of Rain, The Old Man and the Sea, Teresa, and The Member of the Wedding.
George Stevens: Shane, Giant, A Place in the Sun, The Diary of Anne Frank, and Something to Live For.
John Huston: The Asphalt Jungle, The African Queen, The Red Badge of Courage, Moby Dick, Beat the Devil, The Barbarian and the Geisha, Heaven Knows, Mr. Allison, The Roots of Heaven, and Moulin Rouge.
Elia Kazan: On the Waterfront, A Streetcar Named Desire, East of Eden, Panic in the Streets, Baby Doll, A Face in the Crowd, Viva Zapata!, and Man on a Tightrope.
William Wyler: Ben Hur, Roman Holiday, The Big Country, Friendly Persuasion, Carrie, Detective Story, and The Desperate Hours.
Otto Preminger: The Man with the Golden Arm, Anatomy of a Murder, Where the Sidewalk Ends, The 13th Letter, Angel Face, The Moon Is Blue, Carmen Jones, Bonjour Tristesse, Porgy and Bess, and Saint Joan.
Federico Fellini: La Strada, Nights of Cabiria, I Vitelloni, Il bidone, The White Sheik, and Variety Lights.
Robert Wise: The Day the Earth Stood Still, Destination Gobi, This Could Be the Night, Run Silent, Run Deep, I Want to Live!, Odds Against Tomorrow, Executive Suite, Two Flags West, Somebody Up There Likes Me, The Desert Rats, So Big, and House on Telegraph Hill.
Fritz Lang: The Big Heat, Clash by Night, House by the River, American Guerrilla in the Philippines, While the City Sleeps, Human Desire, Rancho Notorious, and Moonfleet.
Akira Kurosawa: Rashomon, Scandal, Seven Samurai, Ikiru, The Hidden Fortress, The Idiot, Throne of Blood, I Live in Fear, and The Lower Depths.
Orson Welles: Othello, Touch of evil, and Mr. Arkadin.
Stanley Kubrick: The Killing, Paths of Glory, Fear and Desire, and Killer's Kiss.
Luis Buñuel: Los Olvidados, El, Mexican Bus Ride, Robinson Crusoe, The Criminal Life of Archibaldo de la Cruz, and Nazarín.
Michael Curtiz: The Breaking Point, White Christmas, We're No Angels, King Creole, The Jazz Singer, The Egyptian, I'll See You in My Dreams, The Vagabond King, and The Proud Rebel.
John Ford: The Searchers, The Quiet Man, Mister Roberts, Wagon Master, Rio Grande, The Sun Shines Bright, Mogambo, The Long Gray Line, The Horse Soldiers, The Last Hurrah, The Wings of Eagles, What Price Glory, and When Willie Comes Marching Home.
Joseph L. Mankiewicz: All About Eve, No Way Out, People Will Talk, 5 Fingers, Julius Caesar, Guys and Dolls, The Barefoot Contessa, The Quiet American, and Suddenly, Last Summer.
Vincente Minnelli: The Bad and the Beautiful, Gigi, The Band Wagon, An American in Paris, Some Came Running, Designing Woman, Tea and Sympathy, The Cobweb, The Long, Long Trailer, Father of the Bride, Father's Little Dividend, Brigadoon, The Story of Three Loves, Lust for Life, and Kismet.
Robert Bresson: The Diary of a Country Girl, Pick Pocket, and A Man Escaped.
Yasujirō Ozu: Tokyo Story, Floating Weeds, The Munekata Sisters, Early Summer, Early Spring, Tokyo Twilight, Good Morning, Equinox Flower, and The Flavor of Green Tea over Rice.
Alexander Mackendrick: The Lady Killers, Sweet Smell of Success, The Man in the White Suit, Mandy, and The Maggie.
Douglas Sirk: Written on the Wind, Imitation of Life, All That Heaven Allows, Magnificent Obsession, A Time to Love and a Time to Die, There's Always Tomorrow, The Tarnished Angels, Battle Hymn, The First Legion, All I Desire, Take Me to Town, Meet Me at the Fair, and Interlude.
Satyajit Ray: The Apu Trilogy, The Music Room, and Parash Pathar.
Robert Aldrich: Kiss Me Deadly, Vera Cruz, The Big Knife, Autumn Leaves, The Angry Hills, Ten Seconds to Hell, Apache, and Big Leaguer.
Richard Brooks: Blackboard Jungle, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, Deadline – U.S.A., Crisis, Battle Circus, The Last Time I Saw Paris, Take the High Ground!, The Last Hunt, and The Brothers Karamazov.
George Cukor: A Star Is Born, Born Yesterday, Bhowani Junction, It Should Happen to You, Les Girls, Wild is the Wind, The Actress, Pat and Mike, Hot Spell, A Life of Her Own, and The Marrying Kind.
Byron Haskin: The War of the Worlds, The First Texan, Conquest of Space, From the Earth to the Moon, The Little Savage, The Boss, Tarzan's Peril, His Majesty O'Keefe, Warpath, Silver City, And Treasure Island.
Howard Hawks: Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, Rio Bravo, The Big Sky, Monkey Business, Land of the Pharaohs, and O. Henry's Full House.
Roberto Rossellini: Where Is Freedom?, Journey to Italy, General Della Rovere, Europe '51, The Machine to Kill Bad People, We, the Women, The Ways of Love, Francesco, giullare di Dio, Stromboli, Fear, India: Matri Bhumi, and Joan of Arc at the Stake.
Jean Renoir: The Ways of Love, French Cancan, The River, Elena and Her Men, Elena and Her Men, The Doctor's Horrible Experiment, and Picnic on the Grass.
Jules Dassin: Night and The City, Rififi, He Who Must Die, and The Law.
Vittorio De Sica: Terminal Station, Umberto D., Miracle in Milan, The Roof, and Anna of Brooklyn.
Kenji Mizoguchi: Ugetsu, The Life of Oharu, The Crucified Lovers,
Sansho the Bailiff, The Woman in the Rumor, A Geisha, Princess Yang Kwei Fei, Shin Heike Monogatari, and Street of Shame.
Roy Ward Baker: A Night to Remember, Don't Bother to Knock, I'll Never Forget You, Morning Departure, Highly Dangerous, Inferno, Night Without Sleep, The One That Got Away, Passage Home, Jacqueline, and Tiger in the Smoke.
Henri-Georges Clouzot: The Wages of Fear, Les Diaboliques, Les Espions, The Mystery of Picasso, and Miquette.
Anthony Mann: The Man from Laramie, The Naked Spur, Winchester '73, The Glenn Miller Story, Side Street, The Tall Target, Devil's Doorway, The Furies, Bend of the River, Man of the West, God's Little Acre, Men in War, Strategic Air Command, The Tin Star, Serenade, The Far Country, and The Last Frontier.
Don Siegel: Crime in the Streets, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, Edge of Eternity, Baby Face Nelson, Spanish Affair, The Duel at Silver Creek, An Annapolis Story, Riot in Cell Block 11, China Venture, Private Hell 36, The Lineup, Hound-Dog Man, and Count the Hours.
John Sturges: Bad Day at Black Rock, Gunfight at the O.K. Corral, The People Against O'Hara, Escape from Fort Bravo, The Old Man and the Sea, Backlash, The Scarlet Coat, Jeopardy, Fast Company, Mystery Street, Right Cross, Last Train from Gun Hill, The Law and Jake Wade, Big Country, and Underwater!.
Samuel Fuller: Pickup on South Street, Hell and High Water, The Crimson Kimono, Forty Guns, Dog Face, Run of the Arrow, China Gate, House of Bamboo, Verboten!, The Steel Helmet, The Baron of Arizona, Park Row, and Fixed Bayonets!.
Joseph H. Lewis: The Big Combo, Retreat, Hell!, A Lady Without Passport, Desperate Search, Man on a Bus, Cry of the Hunted, A Lawless Street, The Halliday Brand, Terror in a Texas Town, and 7th Cavalry.
Jean-Pierre Melville: Les Enfants Terribles, Orpheus, Quatre sans millions!, When You Read This Letter, Bob le flambeur, and Two Men in Manhattan.
Phil Carlson: The Phenix City Story, Kansas City Confidential, 99 River Street, Hell's Island, The Iroquois Trail, The Brigand, Scandal Sheet, Gunman's Walk, Mask of the Avenger, Lorna Doone, The Texas Rangers, Tight Spot, They Rode West, The Brothers Rico, and 5 Against the House.
Martin Ritt: The Long, Hot Summer, Edge of the City, The Black Orchid, No Down Payment, and The Sound and the Fury.
Louis Malle: Les Amants, Elevator to the Gallows, Crazeologie, and Station 307.
Carol Reed: Our Man in Havana, The Key, Trapeze, The Man Between, A Kid for Two Farthings, and Outcast of the Islands.
Masaki Kobayashi: The Human Condition Trilogy, Youth of the Son, Three Loves, Somewhere Under The Broad Sky, The Spring, Beautiful Days, I Will Buy You, Black River, Sincere Heart, and The Thick-Walled Room.
Stanley Donen: Singin' in the Rain, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, Royal Wedding, Funny Face, Indiscreet, Damn Yankees, The Pajama Game, Kiss Them for Me, and It's Always Fair Weather.
Gene Kelly: It's Always Fair Weather, Singin' in the Rain, Invitation to the Dance, and The Tunnel of Love.
Ida Lupino: The Hitch-Hiker, Outrage, The Bigamist, and Hard, Fast and Beautiful.
Budd Boetticher: The Tall T, Bullfighter and the Lady, City Beneath the Sea, East of Sumatra, Red Ball Express, Seven Men from Now, The Killer Is Loose, Ride Lonesome, Buchanan Rides Alone, Decision at Sundown, Westbound, The Magnificent Matador, The Man from the Alamo, Seminole, The Cimarron Kid, Killer Shark, Bronco Buster, Wings of the Hawk, and Horizons West.
Andre DeToth: Day of the Outlaw, House of Wax, Man in the Saddle, Riding Shotgun, Crime Wave, Last of the Comanches, Tanganyika, The Bounty Hunter, Hidden Fear, The Indian Fighter, Monkey on My Back, The Two-Headed Spy, Thunder Over the Plains, The Stranger Wore a Gun, Carson City, and Springfield Rifle.
Delmer Daves: 3:10 to Yuma, Broken Arrow, Demetrius and the Gladiators, White Feather, Drum Beat, Treasure of the Golden Condor, Jubal, The Last Wagon, Kings Go Forth, Cowboy, The Badlanders, The Hanging Tree, A Summer Place, Bird of Paradise, and Never Let Me Go.
William A. Wellman: Track of the Cat, The High and the Mighty, Blood Alley, Darby's Rangers, Lafayette Escadrille, Good-bye, My Lady, The Next Voice You Hear..., Westward the Women, Island in the Sky, My Man and I, Across the Wide Missouri, and The Happy Years.
Max Ophüls: La Ronde, The Earrings of Madame de…, Lola Montès, and Le Plaisir.
Delbert Mann: Marty, The Bachelor Party, Desire Under the Elms, Middle of the Night, and Separate Tables.
David Lean: The Bridge on the River Kwai, Madeleine, The Sound Barrier, Summertime, and Hobson's Choice.
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2020.09.04 16:57 welcometosouthapp Spying on my sister naked

Friday, September 4th, 2020
I can’t believe Winston’s making me do this on my birthday!
It was sunrise on Gigi’s 19th birthday. She dragged a gas-powered chainsaw across the North Campus quad. An hour earlier, Winston had woken Gigi up with a phone call. “Fetch my chainsaw from under the bed and meet me at the library.Click. Not even a “Happy birthday.”
So, she’d rolled out of bed in a white tank top and baby-blue yoga pants. Call it morbid curiosity. Only Winston could come up with such demands, after all.
Gigi was streaked in oil and sweat. She hobbled to the library entrance and let the hunk of metal fall to the ground. North Campus was a vast expanse of willow trees and solitude at sunrise. But something was very…off.
Suddenly, Winston popped out of the bushes and pointed a pistol at Gigi’s forehead. “You’re alone on campus on a day like today,” he rattled off. “Out of the blue, some hooligan hops out of the bushes and tells you to wring your pockets. But you’re wearing a sundress, so you don’t have any pockets. So instead, he-”
“YEET!” Gigi screamed, kicking Winston’s crotch. He crumbled to the ground, hitting a falsetto.
“Oh...shit! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”
“Shiiiet, it’s all right,” Winston moaned, rolling over on his back. Gigi’s frowning, pale face eclipsed the rising sun. “Happy birthday. It’s a Smith and Wesson Bodyguard. Too small for me. Be mindful of the trigger-pull and recoil. But I reckon it’s compact enough for your frou-frou jeans.”
“Oh! I...thank you! But why?” The warm gun fit in her small hand like a glove.
Winston stood up. “Hell, you’ve had my back since I got here. I reckon I oughta return the favor. I ain’t the brightest slice of pie in the knife drawer. But as long as you’re the brains, I may as well make due and be the brawn.”
I stole your other gun and our friends stole your fake IDs! is what Gigi wanted to say. “You...make me feel really safe, Winston!” is what she actually said, slipping the gun in her purse.
Winston lifted the chainsaw. “Welp, it’s time to cut some ties. We’ve got a rat in the frat. Some Alpha Beta Kappa brother pretendin’ to be one of us. See that tree down yonder? That’s their secret meet-up spot. And it’s gotta come down.”
ABK, or “All Big Kocks", started as a frat that met in an off-campus apartment. Then, Clyde (son of Dean Dale Crenshaw) took over. Overnight, the funding skyrocketed. This Honors Music Fraternity was BDE’s greatest rival. Live shows every Friday night, a 3.8 GPA entrance criteria, and co-ed. “Why go to any other frat parties?” Clyde would always argue. “When the women are already here?
“So, about this rat,” Gigi mused, following Winston to the tree. “You asked him nicely to leave?”
“Well, let’s just say he’s branded for life. Name was Taggart, and we actually rushed together. Poor bastard.”
The lumberjack revved the chainsaw. His large pecs and biceps bulged under his shirt as he put that smoking-hot metal to work. He’d easily replaced 20 pounds of fat with muscle. And as that hundreds-year-old tree crashed to the ground, Gigi reminded herself to stay on his good side.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here!” Winston yelled, taking off. “They’ll arrest you too! Hell, you’re the one with the filed-off serial number.”
“W-what?!” Gigi’s voice cracked as she sprinted past him.
“Fuckin’ with ya, Gigi.”
Gigi rode shotgun in Winston’s truck. She kicked off her flats and began massaging her sore feet.
“Um...I definitely stink,” Gigi laughed nervously, slipping her shoe back on. That was Winston’s cue to roll the window back up. She reached into her purse and pulled out the huge charcoal bath bomb that she stole from Sarah. “Dear Chadwick Hughes’ spirit: all I want for my birthday is a bath!”
“Hmm.” Winston drove past Firewater Hall toward Greek Row. “You’re a wanted woman,” he reminded her. “If we go to the house, you’re gonna have to sneak in. If Ryan finds ya, he’ll put your head on a pike.”
Ah, Gigi thought. Because we snuck in, punched him out, and blew up his father’s ashes. Seems...fair.
They pulled up to the BDE house and saw Ryan’s white BMW in the driveway. Winston shut off his Roush engine and instinctively pulled Gigi’s head into his lap, hiding her from plain view.
“Here’s the plan, birthday gal. I’ll go upstairs and grab a shower in the guest bathroom. I’ll save ya some hot water. Wait here, and I’ll text ya when everything’s ready.”
Winston slipped inside. Gigi lay across the passenger and driver’s seat. She thought about bailing and driving to Denny’s for free birthday pancakes. But Winston had the keys. And as her sweating, greased-up body melted in that god-awful hot truck, she decided that she really wanted that bath.
Gigi drifted off to sleep. In her dreams, she sat at a kitchen table in a massive Beverly Hills mansion. In front of Winston were a birthday cake and a huge gift bag. “Happy birthday, Winston!” she exclaimed. Winston reached into the bag and pulled out his lost Colt Single Action Army. “Ta-da! It’s your gun!” Then, he pulled out his lost BDE binder. “Ta-da! It’s your fake IDs!” Finally, he reached into the bag and pulled out a pair of yellow and white striped panties with a lacy bow. “Ta-da! It’s my virginity!
Gigi bolted awake to her phone vibrating. A text from Winston. Ready. Use the ladder. She sat up from her puddle of sweat and made her way around the side of the house.
At the top of the raggedy fire escape ladder, Gigi reached the second-story open window. Tea candles lined the shelf of an elegant clawfoot bathtub, filled to the brim with steaming water. Beside the tub was a shower caddy containing a bottle of merlot, a bag of chocolate-covered almonds, several high-end soaps and face masks, and a note.
To my partner in crime: I reckon we managed to evade the law quite a few times since we moved here. Truth is, ain’t no bathtubs in jail. Now, enjoy all this bougie shit that I found in Claire’s room. Happy birthday - Winston.
“He writes just like he speaks,” Gigi whispered, holding the letter to her chest.
Gigi stripped down to her underwear and neatly folded her clothes in a pile. On the floor was Winston’s t-shirt and blue jeans from earlier. I’m sure he’ll wear that again! She slipped off her yellow panties. After some thought, or no thought at all, she stuffed them into the back pocket of his jeans.
Gigi lowered herself into her first college bath. Even the water felt softer and silkier than in the dorm, whose water flowed from lead-flavored pipes. She picked her brain for every get-rich-quick scheme in the book, aspiring to live in such comfort full-time.
I could blackmail Sarah and Tai about that binder, she thought, submerging her head under water. Maybe I can convince them to give me a cut of their profits! So that a poor student like me can buy clothes that aren’t secondhand! But that would mean keeping the fake IDs a secret from Winston and betraying his trust...
Gigi shot up from the water, gasping for breath. She rubbed her eyes and slicked back her jet-black hair. Then, she unwrapped the bath bomb. It fizzled as a milky grey mist clouded her entire bath.
Winston, would you forgive me? Gigi lifted her hand out of the water and read her nearly-faded tattoo. And if I take a cut of their earnings, I’ll buy the cutest outfits to wear for you. I’m-
She lowered her tattooed hand into the cloudy water, where it disappeared between her legs.
“I’m ready for you, Winston.”
***
“Look at this swole son of a bitch!” greeted Brother Twinston, as Winston entered the cozy living room after his shower. They and eight other pledges dressed in white button-downs and tan slacks, adorned with a BDE pin on the collar.
Winston grabbed Twinston in a playful headlock. “I reckon ain’t nobody gonna be able to tell us apart now.”
“I reckon you’re right, stunt double!” Twinston agreed. This young man was a spitting image of Winston in looks and spirit. They had met at a frat party after taking whiskey shots and reaching for the pickle jar at the same time. Bromance at first sight.
“Enough faggotry,” Ryan commanded, walking up the podium by the fireplace. As the de-facto alpha of the room, his pomade-style hair stood taller than everyone else’s. Seven AM on Friday was BDE’s weekly meeting, and brothers were expressly forbidden from taking Friday classes. Because as soon as this was over, the weekend pre-gaming would commence.
“Now, Winston!” Ryan began. “Looks like your sausage fingers got some dirt under your nails. I trust the deed was done?”
“As motherfuckin’ Shakespeare said: the tree fell, nobody was around, and it still made a fuckin’ sound. I reckon ABK’s hideout is being hauled off by a truck as we speak.”
“You’ve never had a way with words,” Ryan pointed out. “But I gotta admit: you get shit done. Now, if another rat wants to show their face, I got no problem burning down their momma’s house. Next on the list. We gotta talk about two of our…ex-members. Claire and Connor. She packed up the rest of her shit and slipped out of here last night. I’ll be posting an application for Social Chair on our Facebook page.”
Last week, after Winston had caught Claire cheating on him with Frank, she had officially stepped down from BDE.
“Hell, let’s break tradition and make it a man, for Christ’s sake!” Twinston piped up. Despite only being a sophomore, he had clout among the senior brothers.
“I’ll consider it,” Ryan said, shrugging. “You know women: always afraid of commitment. Bitch didn’t even give a reason for leaving. Although I’m not gonna lie: I’m gonna miss those tits during strip poker.”
Two muscular black brothers gave each other a crisp high-five.
“Now, onto Connor. Not only did this beta bitch get a DUI, but he had our motherfucking coke on him.” Ryan tossed a bag of red-and-white cocaine on the coffee table. “Now what the fuck did we say about taking coke out of the house?”
“Don’t go to the buyers - let the buyers come to you,” the brothers responded in unison.
“Final topic of conversation,” Ryan announced, holding up a saloon-style wanted poster. “I’d like to announce that I've delivered swift, painful justice to the bastards who stole my father’s ashes.” On that poster were security camera photos of Frank, Tweed, and Chad - their faces X’d out. Next to their images were lo-res pics of Gigi and Sarah. “I’m increasing the bounty to 2500 bucks for whoever brings me the other two cunts.”
This bounty was news to Winston. Nobody knew he was even related to Sarah, or that Gigi was currently bathing upstairs. While the brothers salivated over the reward money, Ryan swiped a fire poker cast with BDE at the tip. “We took those three bastards out to the quad and branded them for life! Sent their bitch-asses packing. But as for these two dumb sluts...I think they were the masterminds of the whole goddamn plan. I say we tie ‘em down and apply directly to the forehead!”
“Yeah, man, fuck these ho’s,” Winston played along. “They did your daddy wrong. But real talk, I say we track ‘em down and exile them from the fuckin’ campus for life. Ain’t no use in getting thrown in jail for assault. Hell, that’s where those bitches belong.”
“Winston, I’m disappointed in you, chief,” Ryan said condescendingly, slamming the poker on the fireplace with a loud clank. He walked over to Winston and stood eye-to-eye with him. Dead silence. Finally, Ryan cracked a douchey grin.
“All right, all right,” Ryan chuckled. “I’ll go easy on ‘em...that is, if they drop to their knees and suck every last drop from us until they fucking drown!”
The brothers roared like animals, chanting Ryan’s name as he ripped open the bag of red-and-white cocaine. Winston forced a painful smile as the nausea set in. Ryan leaned over the coffee table and proceeded to snort his usual Friday-morning line.
“WHO’S GOT MOTHERFUCKING BIG DICKS?” Ryan screamed psychotically.
“WE DO!” the brothers yelled, banging their chests.
“AND ON MY DEAD DAD’S GRAVE! IF ANYBODY CROSSES BETA DELTA EPSILON, WE’LL DISEMBOWEL THEM AND SHIT DOWN THEIR THROATS!”
Ryan flipped over the glass coffee table, shattering it into pieces.
***
The massive South Campus quad was speckled with students playing ultimate frisbee, strumming guitars, and pretending to study. It was Tai’s happy place. Ever since Jacky turned him loose, he and Sarah had been practicing Krav Maga during sunset. A zen-like hobby that helped him clear his mind and shrink his erection.
Tai landed a shaky roundhouse kick as he spotted a young lady in the corner of his eye.
“I’ve got your rematch, Sarah,” Tai jeered, landing a sloppy jump-spinning crescent kick. But as he stuck the landing, he witnessed Gigi in a traditional kimono and a chopstick bun.
“I accept your challenge in Sarah’s stead!” Gigi cheered, bowing deeply.
“Wait...huh? Where’s Sarah?”
“Ah, in celebration of my 6,939th day on Planet Earth, she elected to maintain a record of meeting notes in my dreadful Comparative Literature enrichment!”
A blank stare from Tai as he slowly shifted into a guarding stance.
“I mean...it’s my fucking birthday, so she went to class for me!” She kicked off her flats and crouched into a grappling stance. “Now, will you hand over a third of your fake ID profits? Or will I have to spill the Bush’s Bourbon and Brown Sugar baked beans to Winston?”
“W-what?! Who told you?”
“Hmmm...twas but a whisper in the wind - a grape from the vine!” Gigi inched toward Tai, who cautiously backed up.
“Okay, look...don’t, um, don’t do anything drastic! We’re gonna pay it back to him, I promise. If you think about it, we’re just doing the work for him. It’s just that...well, it’s been a tough week so we can’t really afford to give you that kind of money!”
“As you wish. I’ll have to beat it out of you instead!”
Tai threw a lunging side kick. But the swift Gigi virtually teleported behind him. She jammed her thumbs into the tender spot below his ears.
“Fool, a petite fighter such as myself must play defensively,” Gigi bragged, regrouping. “I’ve been watching you. Looks like those kicks have thrown you off balance, Mister Flat Foot!”
“You can kiss that ID money goodbye,” Tai scoffed, rubbing his pressure points.
“That’s perfectly fine, grasshopper! I don’t intend to ask for it.”
Tai side-stepped and tried for a sweep kick. Gigi raised her leg over her head like a Chinese gymnast. He fell forward from his own momentum, but Gigi pressed her foot against his face to stop the fall. She wiggled her toes, then gave him a firm roundhouse to the side of the head. Tai fell back onto the grass. As he lost his breath, she wrapped her arms and legs around him from behind. A rear-naked chokehold that Sarah would've been damn proud of.
“Jaleo gada, jaleo gada, jaleo gada,” Gigi cooed in Korean, squeezing his windpipe. And “go to sleep” he did.
Ten minutes later, Tai sat up with a start, drenched in sweat. A ring of students surrounded him.
“Break it up, dudes and dudettes!” Sarah exclaimed, forcing her way through the crowd. The students dispersed as she helped the oblivious Tai to his feet.
“Oh...fuck,” Tai groaned. He fumbled for his minimalist metal wallet. Six-hundred dollars in cash was gone.
“You got robbed, my guy?” Sarah asked, kigh as a hite.
“That’s not even the half of it. This is bad. I have a lot to explain to you.”
Tai recapped his encounter with Gigi, while he and Sarah sipped lattes on the library’s top floor.
“Holy mother of balls,” Sarah whispered after Tai explained Gigi’s blackmailing.
“Look, maybe we come clean. Do you think you can talk to Winston?”
“Not a chance in Woodstock,” Sarah replied, frantically shaking her dreadlocks. “My brother’s all about loyalty first. He’d cut my hair while I was asleep and he’d circumcise you while you were awake.”
Tai instinctively covered his crotch as they stopped at a bulletin board. “So...we’re Gigi’s bitches," said Tai. "If we owe her a cut every time we make a sale, we’ve gotta find a better market.” On cue, he swiped a flyer from the bulletin board. TONIGHT: Alpha Beta Kappa proudly presents the Housewarming Masquerade. $10 cover. All students welcome.
***
The good ole’ southern twins stood on the wrap-around porch, whiskey in hand.
“Look, brother,” Twinston started, patting Winston’s back. “I’ve known Ryan for a year. I know he can get a little...impulsive with his words. But that don’t mean he’s impulsive with his actions. You’re worried about them two girls, aren’t ya?”
Winston was one text message away from telling Gigi and Sarah to flee campus. During last month’s frat party, he had never thought to question why Frank and Gigi had shown up in the first place. It never occurred to him that they were there to blow Ryan’s father’s legacy to smithereens.
Ryan stumbled out in a bright red bathrobe that matched his stuffy, red nose. “Shit, I almost forgot to ask ya, Winston,” he slurred. “I meant to collect your fake ID money for this week.”
Winston was so close to coming clean. Some jack-off stole the binder! he wanted to say. But the punishment for having lost it would be swift and fierce. So, he reached into his wallet and pulled out 600 bucks, straight from his own student loan account.
“Geez, tough week again, huh?” Ryan jeered, snatching the cash. “Where have you been trying to sell them?”
“Oh, you know...the regular beats,” Winston lied. “I reckon I ain’t gonna hit the library on weekdays no more.”
“The library?” Twinston repeated, bewildered. “Shit, what’s it like in there? Ain’t never been.”
“Not your brightest moment, I’m not gonna lie,” Ryan chuckled at Winston. “But, at least you learned your lesson for next week.” Winston nodded, taking it on the chin. If he had to make another withdraw, there wouldn’t be a “next week.” Winston had to find that ID thief.
“Whoa, what the hell?” Twinston pointed at a fleet of U-Haul vans, led by a 2021 silver BMW. They watched as the vehicles pulled into the driveway of the empty frat house next door.
“Holy fucking shit,” Ryan gasped. “It’s motherfucking Alpha Beta Kappa.”
The bald driver opened the butterfly doors. Thick marijuana smoke trickled out of the car. The passenger doors sprang up, and out hopped a freckle-faced redhead with a pornstar body. She brought a wheelchair over to the driver’s side and helped the bald guy into the seat. Then, she marveled at the huge mansion and jumped up and down in her stilettos, her huge breasts bouncing in her tight corset. She rushed into the new house, pausing to give Winston a quick glance before she entered.
Another redhead, huh? Winston thought. My favorite flavor.
The bald guy rolled over to the BDE house in his wheelchair, a present in his lap. His large biceps and tattoos were on full display in his worn Guns N’ Roses sleeveless tee. His jeans were bleached and destroyed and his black Converse were spotless.
“What’s up, neighbors?” the paraplegic spoke in a loud, baritone voice. He handed the present to Ryan. “I’m Clyde, President of Alpha Beta Kappa. Looks like we’re gonna be seeing a whole lot of each other.”
“Uh...yeah, my name’s Ryan.” He extended a hand while using the other to dab his bloody nose. “So...I thought Tri-Delt leased the house next door.”
“I assume you know sororities almost as well as I do. Truth is: women are too damn afraid of commitment. You gonna open that present or what?”
Ryan slipped off the bow and tore the wrapping paper. It was a penis pump.
“Now, let me lay down some ground rules for you and your twins,” Clyde continued, straightening his posture in the chair. “There’s only room for one big dick on Greek Row. Now you may think you have a big dick. But there’s a gang of nine-inch fresh-cut cocks in town.”
Clyde whistled with his fingers. The U-Haul truck doors rolled up. And out came a cavalry of ABK brothers, hauling furniture toward the house as they chanted “All Big Kocks!” Like pallbearers, they each grabbed a corner of expensive sofas, desks, and beds. Posing on top of each piece of furniture was a topless ABK sister. The brothers escorted them like royalty into the soon-to-be furnished mansion.
Clyde unfolded a flyer from his back pocket and handed it to Ryan. “Bring your asses tonight. There are plenty more tits where those came from.” It was an invitation to the ABK Housewarming Masquerade. Clyde swiveled around and rolled back on over to his new house. “By the way!” Clyde called out. “I don’t condone Taggart for spying on y’all like he did! I don’t care who you work for: a rat is a rat!”
“That’s bullshit,” Ryan whispered. He knew good and well that Taggart’s spying was planned and coordinated by Clyde himself. “If they’re gonna spy on us, we’re gonna do the same fuckin’ thing to them.”
“Sit back and relax,” Winston finally broke his silence, standing tall next to his doppelganger. “My twin and I will crash this party and dig up as much dirt as possible.”
“And he and I are the only two who can be in two places at once,” Twinston added.
“Then we infiltrate tonight!” Ryan announced. “Because gentlemen, Greek Row is a pair of tight spandex trunks. And there’s only room for one big dick.”
***
Watching Tai work was amazing.
At the ABK Masquerade, the masked Sarah sat at the bar in the massive concert venue. Clyde’s 90’s cover band was onstage. Like clockwork, the masked Tai would sniff out gay clientele, grab a fake ID from the binder, approach him, make out with him on the dance floor, and come back with a fistful of dollars.
“I’m averaging one sale per song,” Tai panted, wiping somebody’s lipstick from his mouth. “Here, hit me with another ID!”
“You do know this is borderline prostitution, my dude?”
“I...yes.”
Prostitution or not, they racked up a thousand bucks in the first hour. And with Gigi taking a cut of their sales, they were going to need that extra money to keep this operation afloat.
“Take a break, will ya?” Sarah suggested, patting the barstool next to her.
The freckle-faced redhead from Clyde’s BMW was bartending. She wore bright blue fairy wings, a lacy corset, and a glittery half-mask. “Two lemon drops, my loves,” she cooed in a Scottish accent, setting the drinks on the bar. “Aw, I love how comfy you two look!”
Tai and Sarah were dressed down in South App hoodies and yoga pants: items that every female or gay student owned. The goal was to not stand out while selling fake IDs. And yet, they had failed to wear masks.
“I prefer to dress like I do around the house,” the fairy said with a smile, fluttering off to help the next patron.
Outside, Winston and Twinston - the twin spies - walked up the ABK steps in matching button-downs, slacks, and white opera masks. They psyched each other up. The “Who’s got big dicks? We’ve got big dicks!” standard affair. Suddenly, a pack of drunk girls stormed out the front door and spilled an entire glass of cranberry vodka on Winston’s khakis. “Suck it up, buttercup!” she slurred, stumbling off with her posse. Co-ed fraternity girls were a different breed.
“Shit,” Winston muttered, looking down at the mess.
“Better go change, brother,” Twinston suggested. “I’mma gather some intel until you get back.”
Winston retreated to the BDE house while Twinston entered the party alone. He stood at the entrance, absorbing the nostalgia of the 90’s rock set. Permanently-seated Clyde was on drums. A crowd of groupies sang along up front while everyone else gathered on the dance floor.
“Jack and Coke,” Twinston told the fairy bartender. “If you have time.”
From the dance floor, Tai and Sarah were casually mingling and making fake ID sales. They were also people-watching. “It’s fucking uncanny,” Tai began, pointing at Twinston from afar.
“I’m telling you, that’s not Winston,” Sarah argued. “If you want proof, ask him to drop his pants. My brother has a birthmark on his upper-left ass cheek.”
“W-what?!”
“That dude could fool almost anyone though. But a sister always knows.”
Suddenly, all eyes shot toward the front door. In walked a young South Korean student in a baby-blue evening dress. Trailing behind her was a long, ornate satin train. The side-splitting fabric exposed her white-laced garter belt that ran from her thighs to her matching open-toed high heels. Instantly, she won the room.
Clyde hit the final snare, ending his Jane’s Addiction cover. “Well, don’t just stand there, princess!” Clyde called out to the woman, beckoning her onstage with a drumstick. “Come on up and introduce yourself.”
Princess Gigi obliged, but not before giving Tai and Sarah a passing glance. “I hope you’re on your A-game with those sales,” she whispered with a devious grin. “Because I need money for a red dress just like this one!”
Sarah tugged on Tai’s sleeve. “Let’s get the fuck out of here!” she hissed. “Hey...uh bartender?”
“I’m Miri,” the Scottish redhead responded. “But I bid you call me Miri.”
“Miri, care to point us to the back door?”
Tai and Sarah slipped through the kitchen and out the back door. Miri kept pouring for thirsty patrons, all while eyeing this Korean bombshell on stage.
“Um...hi, everyone!” Gigi greeted, while the seated Clyde held the microphone to her mouth. “It’s my birthday today, and...I’m sober! Who wants to help me change that?”
Every man on the dance floor cheered like Quentin Tarantino with a glass slipper. Their girlfriends gave Gigi dirty looks, holding their men close. Clyde leaned into her ear. “Don’t let me catch you paying for a single drop tonight.” He turned around and rolled back to the drum set. He clicked his sticks and began a Chili Peppers cover. The party was back underway.
“Another Jack and Coke,” Twinston requested from Miri. “Make it a double-shot.” From the bar, he’d watched the entire spectacle. Now, Gigi was walking over to him.
“Please read,” Gigi said, plopping down next to Twinston. She slipped the thin fabric of her dress to the side, exposing a pale white thigh. Then, she reached under her garter belt for a letter. She slid it across the bar, showing off her baby-blue painted nails. Twinston peeled off the heart-shaped sticker and unfolded the letter. Written in cursive was the most kinky, depraved to-do list of sex acts he had ever seen. At the bottom was a signed statement: For my birthday I, Ji-hye “Gigi” Moon, hereby sign my virginity over to Winston Arnold Beavers.
Clearly, Gigi had the wrong man.
As soon as Miri returned with Twinston's drink, Gigi swiped it. She sipped her first taste of whiskey through a straw, her bedroom eyes growing wider and wider. She slammed the glass of ice on the bar. Then, she leaned into Twinston’s ear and passed an ice cube from her mouth to his.
“Hey, uh...bartender?” Twinston stammered, as Gigi ran her tongue across his fuzzy beard.
“Back door’s through the kitchen,” Miri laughed in a Scottish accent as she watched the flirtatious pair.
Twinston grabbed Gigi’s hand and jetted out of there. If Winston caught them, he’d impale them with his chainsaw and cut the engine on. So they cut across the back yard and entered Twinston’s first-floor bedroom through the window. She immediately slipped out of her dress, leaving on nothing but the heels and garter belt. And as the masked girl spread her legs, Twinston kept telling himself that this was consensual.
***
Winston entered the ABK house in a filthy pair of blue jeans from that morning. The crowd waved their lighters while Clyde’s band played Semisonic’s “Closing Time.” Seeing as it was last call, Winston made a bee-line for the bar. “I’ll have a Jack and Coke, Miss,” Winston said to Miri, tipping his hat. “If you have time.”
Miri cocked her head, her wings and eyebrows twitching. “Wait...what’s going on?” she asked, taken aback by Winston’s twin from five minutes earlier.
“Alcoholism, that’s what,” Winston chuckled. “Why, I reckon you’ve just seen a ghost. Wanna have a drink with me to calm the spirits?” He was here to gain ABK intel. But her freckled face, wavy red hair, and Scottish accent were definitely a bonus.
“Apparently so!” Miri laughed, her breasts bouncing up and down in that tight corset. “Tell you what: I’ll toast with ya.”
Miri poured Winston’s Jack and Coke and the umpteenth cranberry vodka of the night. But like the mystical fairy creature she was, she garnished her drink with a handful of blueberries, a splash of lemon juice, and a basil leaf.
“Seventy-nine,” Winston randomly said as they clinked glasses across the bar.
“Hmmm?”
“Seventy-nine. I reckon that’s how many freckles you have on your face.”
“Ah...well, let’s see. I've never counted before. But on my whole body? Well...we’re definitely in quadruple digits.” Miri leaned in close, the scent of gin and spearmint on her breath. “If you want to take me to my room and count them, I can do 150 an hour. That is, if you’re a fast counter.”
Winston chuckled, then slipped something into her henna-tattooed hand. “I mighty appreciate it. But I’d rather ya tell me a little bit about this place. Thinkin’ about pledging.” A lie, of course.
Without missing a beat, Miri slapped a bag of blue-and-white cocaine on the bar. “Tell ya what: you try ours and I’ll try yours.” Right in front of everyone, she opened the bag of red-and-what cocaine and split it into lines.
Winston’s jaw dropped. It was all coming together in his slow-churning mind. Taggart and ABK had been gathering intel to corner the entire fucking college cocaine market. While Miri dropped her head to do a line, Winston slipped his rival’s cocaine into his pocket. All right, I’ve got what I came for. No thanks to Twinston. Time to report back to Ryan.
“Yo, the concert’s over but the night has just fucking begun!” Clyde announced on the mic. “Ladies only: get your asses to the center of the dance floor. You know what time it is!”
Miri’s head shot up from her third line of cocaine. She released an orgasmic Scottish moan. Then, this mystical fairy pranced into the center of the room, spun on her heel, and gave a curtsey in her outfit.
What the hell is going on? Winston thought, sipping his whiskey. He reached into his back pocket for a napkin and felt something else instead. Slowly, he held Gigi’s lacy yellow panties in front of his face. Miri, how the hell did you put this in my pocket without me noticing? Hell, I reckon this bitch is a fairy after all.
“DJ, hit the music!” Clyde commanded. Fergie’s “London Bridge” blared through the speakers and rang across Greek Row. The tipsy Miri swayed her hips to the violent bass beat, shedding her wings. Applause erupted from the crowd.
“Now just what are we to do about this corset?” Miri cooed, puckering her lower lip.
“Take it off!” the brothers chanted. And she did. Winston instantly realized that her “1000-freckles” estimate was correct.
“Lose that skirt!” the crowd commanded.
Winston nervously tapped his foot. Not because he was afraid of seeing a naked woman. That road was heavily-traveled and full of potholes. But Miri was drunk, and nobody was doing a damn thing about it. She hooked her thumbs beneath her pink-and-blue skirt and pulled it down to her ankles. No underwear, and a hundred more freckles on Winston’s scoreboard.
“Make yourself decent, moron!” Winston called out, sling-shotting the yellow panties across the room to Miri. She reached up and caught them, red-eyed high and shit-faced drunk. “These…these aren’t mine. But they sure are cute!”
What?! Who the fuck do they belong to then? And why the fuck were they in my pocket?!
Regardless, Miri slipped into the tight panties. She gave a polite curtsy and fluttered away through the kitchen and out the back door.
“Yo, what the fuck man?” Clyde raged as he watched the action from his wheelchair. “You fuckin’ scared her off! DJ, cut the music!”
Fergie stopped singing and all eyes fell on Winston. He took a deep breath and boldly stepped into the center of the dance floor. “She was fucking wasted, partner. Are y’all really gonna make her do all that?”
“It doesn’t fucking matter,” Clyde seethed. “It’s Friday: we drink, and Miri strips. She’s a whore. And that’s what whores do. Who the fuck do you think you are anyway? S-s-somebody take off his mask!”
But Winston removed his own mask and tossed it on the floor. There he was: invading ABK just as the phony Mississippian Taggart had invaded BDE.
“Leave it to a Beta to look for pussy at an Alpha’s party!” Clyde jeered over the mic. “Can you all believe this white-knight faggot tried to stand up for a fuckin’ whore?”
Winston couldn’t resist a comeback. It was too easy. “At least I can actually stand, you fucking cretin.”
Every single hand covered a gasping mouth. Winston turned and walked into the kitchen, building up to a sprint out the back door. Rabid yells from behind as he cut across BDE’s back yard, dashing past rows of trees and street lights to the end of Greek Row. At the dimly-lit street sign, he collapsed into the grass.
Winston, ya done fucked up now.
“Yo, you okay, bro?” somebody called out.
Winston looked up and saw two douchey frat boys carrying acoustic guitars. Before he could get up, one of them had already hoisted him to his feet. He winced as he put pressure on a sprained ankle.
“You had way too much, my man!” Guitar Guy 1 said. “And it’s not even nine yet. Gotta pace yourself!”
“Yeah, man,” agreed Guitar Guy 2, brushing grass off Winston’s shoulder. “Hey, why don’t you come with us to Alpha Beta Kappa’s party? I hear our president’s band is fuckin’ killing it tonight.”
Winston felt his soul leave his body. Suddenly, Guitar Guy 1’s phone rang.
“Hello?” Guitar Guy 1 answered his phone. “Hey, what’s up, Clyde. Yeah, yeah, we’re almost there. We’ve got our guitars and...huh? Oh shit, you talking ‘bout the guy dressed like a cowboy? Yeah, man, he’s right here. Drunk as fuck, I’ll tell ya h’what. Wait, what? He said what to you? No, fuck that. FUCK. THAT! Yeah, man, we’re gonna take care of him right the fuck now!”
Winston slowly backed up to the street sign, a hot pain searing through his ankle. Running was out of the question.
“You so much as move, we aim for the head,” said Guitar Guy 2, shouldering his weapon.
Winston placed his back to the street sign and sank to a seated position. He looked up at the fretted assailants. Not with fear, but with acceptance. “I know all about your frat’s cocaine operation. And all I gotta say: I’m gonna run it into the motherfuckin’ ground.”
Guitar Guy 1 went for a cross slice, cracking the guitar against Winston’s head. He bled before he hit the grass in a fetal position. His body convulsed in a seizure.
“Yo, no face shots!” Guitar Guy 2 screamed, kicking Winston in the ribs to vent his frustration. He brought his ax above his head and hammered down on his gut. Winston released the death cry of a wounded gazelle. But instead of delivering that final blow, the Guitar Guys looked at one another and nodded. Then, they dropped their pastel board shorts and proceeded to piss on Winston’s wounds from head to toe.
“Look at the sign and tell me what the fuck it says, cuck!” Guitar Guy 1 yelled, stomping his face with his boat shoes one last time. They zipped up their shorts and ran off. A groaning Winston wiped his bloody, sopping-wet face and looked up at the sign. Crenshaw Ave. Just like his father’s legacy, Clyde was here to stay.
Winston blacked out.
***
It wasn’t rape. It was my choice. It wasn’t rape. It was my choice. It. Was. My choice.
Gigi stared at her reflection in the dorm room mirror. Tears and mascara flowed down her face, streaking her cleavage and her wrinkled gown. With fumbling hands, she unwrapped a Plan B Morning-After Pill and slipped it between her dry, chapped lips. She cupped some water into her hand and swallowed, gripping the edges of the sink as she looked back at the defiled girl in the mirror. Hours earlier, she had been pure. Now, she stank of sweat, Walmart-brand musk, and a stranger’s bodily fluids. It was only when Twinston had taken off his mask that she’d realized she had made love to a man she did not know.
Only minutes to midnight. Soon, the wrinkled evening gown would disappear, and Gigi would be reduced to dirty rags and cloths. “This...this is certainly the kind of dress I would want to die in,” she told her reflection, forcing a smile as she permitted tears to flow freely.
A fall from the seventh story would surely kill Gigi. She envisioned her mangled corpse on the gnarled roots below. Then, she feverishly latched onto something to keep her alive for one more day.
Froyo! Tomorrow was the grand opening of the local frozen yogurt joint. I’ll get to choose my favorite sugary toppings to pile on my watermelon sorbet. But tonight, I didn't choose to have sex with that man. It was not. My. Fault.
Gigi’s phone rang. It was Sarah. “Gigi, get your ass down to the third floor - quick!
Gigi flew down the stairs, tripping over a few drunk students in the process. She stood in the doorway of Room 309, where a bloodied cowboy lay his head in Sarah’s lap. Tai sat on the futon, handing Sarah gauze and rubbing alcohol from the first aid kit.
“Gigi,” Winston mumbled. He lifted his head, then set it back down as he erupted into a coughing fit. “You look...great. Not as sexy as my sister though. But I’m from the South, so it’s family first. Roll tide...”
Sarah and Gigi smiled weakly, seeing how Winston was slowly returning back to normal. But Gigi’s smile turned to shock as she got a closer look at his face. One eye was swollen shut and bleeding from the corner. A large knot on his head oozed pus, even as Sarah frequently dabbed it with a tissue. His twitching body hinted at the lacerations and bruises beneath his bloody t-shirt. And through Winston’s smile, he was missing a bottom tooth.
“Everybody fucking leave!” Gigi exploded, dropping to her knees and laying her head on Winston’s chest. He winced at first, but slowed his breathing as she held his hand. She sobbed her eyes out, soaking Winston’s shirt and beard.
“Gigi, look,” Tai said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Winston needs all of us right now. Not just-”
Gigi fetched the 22-caliber pistol from her purse and slammed it on the tile floor. “I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT! OUT, OUT, OUT!”
Winston’s heart raced as Gigi squeezed his hand with all her might. “It’s all my fault,” she whispered, as if they were already alone. “If only I let you keep your gun, you could have defended yourself.”
“Buddy, that just ain’t plum-fuckin’ true. Ain’t nobody’s fault but mine. I talked shit and got hit.”
Sarah and Tai quietly slipped out the door, most likely to count their fake ID earnings.
Gigi positioned Winston’s head on her lap and ran her small hands through his messy brown hair. “This ain’t the first time you caught me covered in piss. Reckon it won’t be the last.”
Gigi giggled. “I’ll...I’ll be here all night to protect you.” She clutched the gun with one hand and ran her fingers through his hair with the other. “And we can wash your hair in the morning.”
“Thanks, buddy. I reckon I done gots me a few enemies now. So...ya ain’t gonna let the piss fairies sneak in and give me a golden shower...are ya?”
“I...I won’t let you down!” Gigi laughed, gripping the gun. “And if the pee bandits come around here, I’ll politely escort their hind keisters a third-of-a-dozen floors north, where their skin shall bubble under the 100 Kelvin internal temperature of our antiquated heating and cooling apparatus!”
“Shit,” Winston moaned, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep. “If they don’t fix your AC sooner or later...you may have to move down here and live with me.”
While Winston rested, Gigi stood watch all night. She forgot all about what Twinston had done to her. Misery loved company. And while Gigi never wished for anything bad to happen to Winston, his timing couldn’t have been better.
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2020.08.31 10:09 Meda31Augl Naked my spying sister on

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submitted by Meda31Augl to u/Meda31Augl [link] [comments]


2020.08.23 22:13 boewhiskey Spying on my sister naked

They say that my house is haunted. I haven’t been living here for very long but I know better that it isn’t. That doesn’t mean that kids, urban explorers, and ghost chasers don’t still show up to investigate. Most of the time they’re surprised to see someone is now living in this house outside of town. Usually, especially with the more respectful ones, they apologize and ask if I’ve been witness to anything strange or paranormal. When I tell them that nothing paranormal happens, there is no ghost haunting the grounds, it’s all just a work of fiction, they thank me and leave. On a handful of occasions, the bolder ones ask to see the inside. Depending on my mood, I’ve allowed it more often than not, assuming that once they see the furnished inside and nothing happens, they will spread the word and I can be left alone in the end. There were only two that caught me on a bad day which resulted in me yelling at them for wasting their time and mine and that I just want to live out the rest of my days in peace.
So far all of this has seemed to help me although I’m not sure if the anger or compliance has aided me more. Visits dwindled over the past year that I have lived here and I haven’t seen any thrill-seeking lurker on my property for a good three or four months. I still get odd looks when I go into town and hear the whispered conversations that they don’t try hard enough to hide.
The recent lack of strangers showing up is part of the reason I was mildly surprised when I spied a group of college-aged kids creeping towards the front door one night last month. I was walking from the kitchen into the living room when I first saw their movements across the moonlit yard. At first, I shook my head to myself, cursing adventurous young-adults and teens for trying to scare themselves. If only they knew the true horrors in the world, then they might be less inclined to search for something that would make their heart race. The flash of a memory burned briefly in my mind and my frown turned into a small smile as I recalled how adventurous and ambitious I was once upon a time. Why not have a little fun with these youngsters, then? There is no ghost here, might as well give them a little bit of a scare.
I quietly stepped to my front door and slid the lock out of place without making a sound. I didn’t want to alert the outsiders to my presence just yet. I listened intently and waited as they neared the porch. I heard the wooden planks creak under their weight and murmurs about how it was too dark to see inside the windows. When I heard them just on the opposite side of the door, I twisted the handle and yanked the door open as fast as I could, while bellowing out, “What do you want?!”
In an instant, I saw that there were four of them, three boys and a girl. I kept my smirk to myself as I mused for a second about the girl probably either trying to prove herself as one of the guys or being dragged along, pressured by one or all of them. My mind quickly dropped that train of thought when three of the figures leaped from the porch and took a few hurried steps into the yard, putting some distance between themselves and what frightened them. Only one remained standing before me: the girl. I saw her breath catch for a moment but then her head raised defiantly in brave determination.
“Sorry, sir, we didn’t think anyone lived here,” she spoke in a hesitant tone that grew stronger with each word.
“Well someone does live here,” I responded, carefully crafting my words with a tone that I hoped sounded void of animosity but still retained power. The girl didn’t answer, only stared at me, so I asked her, “Well?”
“Penny, let’s go!” One of the young men yelled after her.
“Is your house really haunted?” She asked, ignoring her friend.
“Penny, is it? No, the house is not haunted,” I answered.
“It’s short for Penelope. Did you know that your house is believed to be haunted?” She continued.
“Yes, Penelope, I did know that. Most of the brave kids such as you and your friends have discovered that already and made the conscious decision to leave me alone,” I said.
“I’m from out of town so I guess I missed that memo,” she responded. It sounded like it was accompanied by a smirk but without any lights on her face, it was impossible for me to see it.
“You are quite braver than your friends, it would seem. Would you care to come in for a cup of tea and a story? From my experience, not many know the full legend of the ghost that was assumed to haunt these walls. Of course, you probably wouldn’t believe the real story,” I offered. Her silence told me that she was considering the offer. If she was smart enough, she would know that she shouldn’t enter the house of a strange man, but then again, I knew better than many others that sometimes pride and curiosity can burn brighter than intelligence.
I saw her silhouette turn as she yelled over her shoulder, “You go on ahead, I’ll catch up later!”
“Are you fucking kidding me, Penny? What if he kills you or something?!” A male voice called back to her. It was a different one than the first I had heard.
“Are you planning on killing me or torturing me or raping me or something?” Penelope asked, turning back to me.
“I don’t go around torturing and raping young women, how barbaric,” I answered her.
“I think I can handle myself,” she hollered back to her friends. I stepped aside so she could enter the house. Once she was inside, she turned and waved to her friends. As I shut the door, I saw them shaking their heads, shrugging, and walking away.
“Tea or coffee?” I asked my new guest as I locked the door and began walking to the kitchen.
“I’d prefer coffee if it’s no trouble,” she answered, following me.
I led her into the modest room and flipped the light switch before gesturing for her to take a seat at the small table. She did and I approached the counter, pulling a coffee maker towards me and fetching the grounds from the cupboard above. Absentmindedly, I scooped some of the dark granules into a filter that I placed in the top of the maker. I filled the water reservoir and turned on the pot before taking a seat across from the young woman. I took a moment to study her. She had high cheekbones but otherwise, her features were soft. Brown hair fell to just past her shoulders and her intense eyes were amber in color, something not commonly found. I had seen similar shades in my travels, before, but seeing these reminded me of the first amber eyes I ever saw. If I was a weaker man, I might have teared up at the familiarity.
“So, tell me, Penelope, what have you heard about this house?” I asked her as the machine on the counter began to heat up and make small gurgling noises.
She shrugged, “Just that it’s haunted. They say you can hear a woman crying loudly on some nights, a heartbreaking lament.”
“And hearing a woman cry interests you?”
She chuckled softly, “If it’s coming from a ghost, sure.”
“Anything for a glimpse of the other side,” I mused aloud with a small smile. She shrugged.
We sat in silence while the coffee finished making. I was surprised to note that she didn’t look to be feeling as awkward as others in her situation might. Instead, she seemed rather calm and content. Within minutes, the mechanical pot stopped making gurgling noises and I stood to pour some into two mugs. I placed one in front of her along with two small pots, one containing sugar and the other holding creamer. Once she mixed in the amount of each to her satisfaction, I motioned for her to follow me into the living room.
I seated myself in a worn leather armchair. For as much as the dark fabric had been through, it still held itself together and supported my weight perfectly. I took a long sip of my steaming black coffee while Penelope took her place in another chair beside mine. Both chairs faced a fireplace that hadn’t seen flames in a very long time. It was still comforting for me to be able to see the mantle and brick that gave way to a dark and dirty space. Both chairs were angled so that the fireplace was easily the main focal point but the inhabitants could also comfortably turn to see each other.
I glanced at the young woman before reaching to the table between us and turning on the small lamp. It cast shadows about the room that would typically bring fearful thoughts to anyone. The woman wasn’t typical, though, she was strong and unafraid.
“Why do you think the woman would cry?” I asked my guest before beginning the story.
She thought for a minute while sipping the hot liquid then responded, “I’m sure everyone has their own theories but I would assume that she lost someone dear to her, maybe a kid or husband or something.”
“Ah, yes, loss is a terrible thing. Losing someone of great importance to you can cause sorrow and heartache unlike any imaginable torture. The pain of the heart is so much more potent than the pain of the body,” I said, losing myself for a moment in thoughts of the one I had lost so long ago. Heartbreak and misfortune were not foreign to me. Instead, they had taken up residence in my soul and refused to leave.
“So did she?” Penelope’s voice brought me back to the present.
I looked up at her from my blank stare pointed at the floor, “Yes, this house saw a woman lose everything, including herself. There was no child, though.”
“What do you mean she lost herself?” She asked.
“For that to be answered, I must tell you the story itself. But first, one more question: what do you know about werewolves?” One edge of my mouth curled up into a half-smile as I looked at her over my cup before taking another drink.
“Werewolves? They’re humans that turn into a wolf with the full moon. Legends of them are found in various regions of the world, all with different information, theories, and lore,” she answered.
“What if they were more than just legend and myth? Yes, depending on where you are in the world, there are different ways one might become a wolf. Who’s to say what’s the full truth or not. For the sake of this tale, though, I ask that you believe they are real and accept the information I give you without comment,” I spoke.
“Okay…” She nodded slowly and trailed off.
“Then let me begin. Almost two long decades ago, there was a young man who lived far away from here. He was eighteen, stubborn, and resilient, but most importantly, he was in love. The young lady his heart belonged to was beautiful with long dark hair and bright eyes. Her name was Evangeline and she loved him, too. Her family kept a secret, though, and because of this secret, they didn’t approve of the young couple’s dreams to travel. Evangeline knew this and although she dreamed with him of distant places, her heart was always heavy with the thought she would never be allowed to join his adventures.
One day she finally shared her secret with him and explained why she couldn’t leave her home like they were constantly imagining. The sweet, angelic girl became a wolf during the full moon every month. Unlike other breeds of the beast, she was not bitten or turned by choice; she was born into it. She explained to her love that there were different types of werewolves, some being made into what they were and others like herself, being cursed from their family’s blood. For generations, her family was careful to keep their secret from being exposed to the public. In an attempt to avoid becoming dangerous, they long ago decided to forego the ancient traditions of feasting on human flesh. They learned that if they formed their diet to mostly be vegetable-based as humans, they could better control their wolf side when it emerged. This aided them in being sure that they only hunted animals when in their wolf form.
Over the years, there had been some mistakes and if a wolf had the taste of human blood, they would become ravenous for it. A few times the family had to put one of their own down because of this, including Evangeline’s uncle, her father’s brother. As a result, her father was strict and wanted to keep her close to home until he died. He was afraid, terrified that something might happen to his beautiful daughter. He wanted her safe and alive.
When Evangeline explained this to the young man, tears rolled down her face. She cried for what she was, for what she had no control over. She cried with the knowledge that the man would most likely leave her, whether he believed what she said or not. He had no reason not to believe her, though, and although skeptical, he held her close and kissed her head. The next full moon, he was allowed to be there when she changed. Unlike most tales, her family adored the young man and approved of their relationship, just not of their wanting to leave.
Months went by and he stayed true to her. She fell deeper into their love than she ever thought was possible. The night of her eighteenth birthday, he proposed and she said yes. The wedding plans were hollow, though. While their families were excitedly helping them choose flowers and food, the couple was secretly planning to run away together. They loved each other with the depth of the deepest chasm and Evangeline knew that her husband-to-be could handle what she was and could keep her safe.
One night, her window was slid open without a sound. Evangeline looked out and saw the love of her life waiting there. She carefully and quietly gathered the bag she had packed and hidden under her bed then climbed through the window. They stole away into the night, across the grounds of her family’s home, down a side street, and then out of town in his car.
Life on the run was thrilling at first. They covered their tracks and used fake names while making their way to their coastal destination. Often, she missed her family and wished there was a way to be there when her pregnant mother gave birth to her little sister. In those moments, her lover would gently squeeze her hand or pull her close and with a deep breath of him, she would relax and remember that it had to be this way if they were to live the life they felt destined to live. She didn’t just run away to be with him, after all. She ran away to be free.
For a year they took their time crossing the country. They were in no rush to get to the coast and spent months at a time in different towns and seeing everything wondrous that they could. Before reaching their destination, they wanted to behold all the beauty on the way. Then they would continue to do the same across the world. Greece, France, Egypt, Turkey, China, South Africa, India, Iceland, and everywhere in-between would be their home.
Sadly, they didn’t make it very far,” I paused my story to look at Penelope. Between sips of her coffee, I could see that she was engrossed and when I stopped, her eyes widened.
“How far did they make it?” She asked, urging me to continue. I smiled and drained my mug before setting it on the table.
“They stopped at a small town, planning on saving up some money for a couple of months to be able to afford the cost of boat fare. They weren’t to the coast just yet, but they both adored the quaint town and agreed it would be a nice place to finally get married. They went to the courthouse with the kind older couple they were renting a home from as their witnesses. For the love of the town in which they wed, they stayed longer than expected. Perhaps it was being stationary for so long or maybe Evangeline’s feeling of homesickness or the loss of excitement in their freedom, but they began arguing on an almost weekly basis. She missed her family and in the year they had been gone, her sister had been born and she had never been able to even lay eyes on her.
After a particularly nasty bout, the young husband spent an evening at a local bar. While intoxicated, he ended up getting into a fight with a local man. They both were kicked out of the establishment and after punching the man hard enough to lay him on his back, he left to return home.
Evangeline threw her arms around him when he walked in the door and they apologized to one another. He hadn’t ever been gone that long from her and her anger had subsided to worry, causing her to realize that she loved this man and was more afraid of losing him than fighting with him. They talked into the night and agreed to make a trip back to their hometown before leaving the country. They hoped that the time spent away would be proof to Evangeline’s family that she could handle being gone and that she was okay.
The night of the full moon brought trouble, though. That was the night that the man from the bar chose to appear on their doorstep, friends in tow, looking for revenge. What they didn’t expect was to be interrupted by a wolf emerging from the trees while they dragged the man out of his home in an attempt to beat him. The wolf lunged and bared her teeth, growling and snarling for them to leave. In human form, she would have been able to easily keep herself in line but as a wolf, her emotions raged and she attacked the threat to her love.
Wolves don’t think like people do and at the moment, she was only concerned with saving her husband. Truly, she didn’t expect to cause more harm than a scare but in the end, three men lay in the grass, bloody and torn, while the wolf swallowed blood and flesh.
The young couple disappeared after that. They couldn’t return to their families and they couldn’t stay in that town any longer, they knew that. The thought of killing his beloved was unbearable, though, so they devised a plan to keep her chained and locked up during the dangerous wolf nights. They swore to each other that they would do anything to protect one another and keep this from becoming a danger to anyone on the outside. How foolish they were.
What Evangeline did not know was that not only does a wolf have a change in appetite when introduced to human meat, but also the person changes. Over the course of several months, she became harsh and cold. Their love cooled and fizzled. She was no longer the same loving and warm woman she had once been. If asked, she might not even have been able to explain why she was still with the man when her love for him had died that night with the men she killed. Her husband, though, felt indebted to her and responsible for keeping her from harming anyone else.
It became more and more apparent that she was hungry for the unspeakable and after a while, she was able to convince him that she should be allowed to roam free as a wolf. He didn’t trust her at first but when there were no reports of animal attacks on nights that she was gone, he began to believe that maybe she did have some sort of control. He wouldn’t find out for several months that the control he thought she had was not the same as the truth. She did have some sort of control, yes, but only to the extent that she would stalk a victim as a human and then as a wolf, she would kill them. By stalking them during the days, she was able to keep her mind trained on that one person and would satiate her bloodlust with transients and others who would not be missed or even reported missing for a good while.
After being on the run for almost another full year, they came across an abandoned house outside of a large city. The man was tired and heartbroken, having found out the truth of her hunts long ago. They agreed to stay put in that house and even fixed up the basement so it might contain her. As they worked together to create a livable home, a spark of their old love reignited. Hope was once again found in his eyes and there were moments where she looked at him as if she loved him again. Perhaps she did still love him in some way.
Finally, the day came that she wrapped her arms around him like she hadn’t done in such a long time. She looked deep into his eyes and told him that she loved him. For three months after, everything seemed right in the world once more. He stopped dreading her kills and even helped her pick out places where she could find prey. They agreed it would be only people who not only wouldn’t be missed or noticed but also held some sort of evil in their hearts.
Evangeline tried to stick to their code but it proved difficult for her. Living on the edge of a city brought too many temptations and her hunger continued to grow. Disappearances began being reported and grisly murders were being discovered. Body parts turned up in odd places and it began to be suspected that a serial killer was on the loose. With each full moon, Evangeline became more and more unrestrained and with each morning, the guilt grew and weighed heavily on her heart and mind. As a human, she had seemed to push through the behavioral changes but as a wolf, she had lost all control. One kill was no longer enough for a month. She had progressed to killing three or four in a single night.
Realizing the dangers of her roaming free, they began chaining her in the basement on nights she would turn. They even furnished the room with a comfortable bed in hopes that she would wake on it and not feel like a prisoner in their own home. It worked for two months but in the third month, she was able to break the chains and escaped to hunt the streets of the city.
Evangeline’s husband heard the crash of the window breaking and rushed to follow the wolf, armed with more chains, tranquilizers, and if need be, a large silver knife to protect himself from the woman he loved.
He found her over the still twitching body of a teenager. Life had just left the unsuspecting victim. The man readied himself for his attempt to put the animal into a slumber deep enough to last at least the trip home. The dart left the gun with a small sound. The wolf’s ears shifted with the noise and she turned to face her human lover. In a flash, the dart lodged itself into her chest while she pounced on the new threat. He threw an arm in front of his face as he was knocked to the ground. While on his back, his forearm lodged in the beast’s mouth, he struggled to grip two more darts in his free hand. The darts fell away and as the wolf began to yank his arm from its socket, he grabbed the only thing he knew could save him: the silver blade.
The knife pressed through the fur and skin easier than he thought it would. The jaws of the wolf loosened as it stepped back, staggering on its feet. The man used his good arm to push himself up. With a whimper, the animal locked eyes with him and fell to her side. They were no longer the eyes of a wolf, but rather the bright amber eyes of the woman he loved. He quickly stood and touched the wolf as her eyes closed. She wasn’t dead but he knew that it wouldn’t be long before she was.
He struggled much but managed to bring the wolf back to their home and into the basement. The sun was rising as her eyes opened again and she took a deep, harrowed breath. It destroyed him to see her naked form lying on the floor, knife still in her chest. She tried to get up but was weak from blood loss. With one arm, he helped her the best he could and soon she was lying in the bed.
Through a short tear-soaked conversation, she told him this was necessary. She thanked him for loving her and said how she was glad he was the one to do this. She guided his hand to wrap around the hilt of the knife and told him that he needed to sink it deeper into her chest, to be sure her heart was pierced through in order for the wolf to die with her. He begged her not to make him do this. He pleaded with her not to leave him. In the end, though, he looked into her eyes one last time as his hand, still covered by hers, was pushed deep into her body.”
I stopped speaking and focused my gaze on the empty fireplace. This story always broke my heart.
“That was this house, wasn’t it?” Penelope asked after a moment of silence. Her speech was quiet and sad, heavily affected by the tale.
I cleared my throat and looked at her again, “Yes, yes it was this house. The bed in the basement is still even there. But there is no ghost. Evangeline did not return from the grave.”
“Can I see it?” She asked me timidly. My eyes narrowed and I felt myself harden, slightly taken aback by the request. After holding my breath for three seconds, I let it out in a sigh and nodded.
“I suppose so. Follow me and I’ll finish the story while we walk,” I said, standing up.
“Finish the story? But she died,” Penelope stood, following suit.
“Yes, but the man lived,” I answered and began leading her through the hall and to the door at the end of the house that opened to a staircase down. “Although not born of the wolf curse, he was bitten by one who was. It didn’t take but a month for him to understand what that meant and once he turned the first time, he knew how much of a curse it was. His body snapped and bent, bones broke and moved. He felt like he was dying. When it was done, though, he felt the freedom of running. So that’s what he did. He ran. As a human and as a wolf, he ran through cities and towns, deserts and oases. He crossed rivers and oceans, countries and continents. He hated what he was but he used it to his advantage.
You see, Penelope, a wolf has an excellent sense of smell and werewolves have their own sort of scent. One werewolf can sniff out another easily and there seems to be a sort of sense there even when in human form. Very few things on the planet can mask this sense or the specific scent of a fellow wolf. He taught himself the ways of tracking and hunting. He vowed that he would spend his life making up the mistakes he had made with Evangeline. He allowed her to kill humans, to roam free, to tear apart families. He blamed the wolf in her and the wolf in himself for everything that had gone wrong. So he hunted them. He turned his curse into a tool and he traveled the world, searching out and destroying any werewolf he could find.
The work took a toll on him, though. He couldn’t enjoy traveling the world without Evangeline and finally, he decided to return to his home country, tired, weathered, and ready to disappear.”
We reached the bottom of the stairs and I turned on the light. With the illumination of the room, a closed door could be seen on the opposite wall. I stopped halfway to it when I realized that Penelope’s footsteps were no longer behind me. I turned to face her and saw a fire in her eyes.
“And what about Evangeline’s family? What about that baby sister? Did the man ever tell them what happened? Did he ever atone for that sin?” She asked through gritted teeth. Her hands were at her sides, one in a fist and one gripping a pistol.
I remained calm as I answered with a sorrowful tone, “No, Penelope, I never saw or spoke to her family again.”
“And why not? Didn’t we deserve to have the truth? Did you know that my father spent years looking for her only to find out that she was dead? Did it ever cross your mind about how her little sister would grow up hearing stories of a sibling she would never get to meet, a sibling that was stolen from her? How hard do you think I had to fight for my own freedom? And what of her body? Did you even bury her properly?” She demanded.
I sighed and gestured to the door, “Do you want to see her room?”
Penelope didn’t answer, only glared and watched me cross the rest of the room. I opened the door and stepped inside. After a moment, she joined me and stood in the doorway. I watched her face twist and change as she beheld the sight. I approached the bed and touched the corpse that remained on it.
“You’re so cold,” I addressed the body. It was decayed but still somehow intact.
“What the hell?” I heard Penelope whisper from behind me.
“I came back when I heard that people claimed the house was haunted,” I said aloud to my wife. “You know, I want to hate you for everything that happened. You made me fall in love. You made me hope. You made me into the monster that I became. And then you left me.”
Tears welled up in my eyes and I knelt next to the bed. I hadn’t been able to come back down here since moving back. Seeing her body again after so long, I could no longer contain myself.
“I wanted there to be a ghost. I’ve begged for hours to hear her voice one more time. I’ve cried out and pleaded but she never came. That’s how I know that the house is not haunted. Oh, how I wish it was. That was the last thing I wanted in this world,” I told Penelope without turning to even look at her.
“You don’t deserve that,” she said in a flat tone.
“No, I suppose you’re right, but don’t you realize how incredible it is that you would find us here? I came back to die. I wanted a sign that she was still here so I could die in peace. But lo and behold, I return and hear not only whispers of a ghost that doesn’t exist, but also rumors of a wild animal on the loose. I couldn’t say goodbye to this world with the knowledge that there was another wolf on the loose, so here I still am, at least for the moment. Did you think you covered up your tracks that well?” I asked her, finally looking into those eyes that were almost an exact replica of Evangeline’s.
She raised the pistol to be level with my head, “Doesn’t matter, you’re not leaving this room.”
I jumped up and grabbed the knife that had been at home in a corpse for the past nineteen years. The gun fired as I lunged at her. Her mistake was that I even wanted to survive past the hour. I didn’t but I would take her down with me. The pain hit me just as I shoved the blade unceremoniously into her heart. Her eyes widened as she dropped the gun and then fell in a heap. I let my body fall and felt warm blood pool around me. I begged one last time to hear Evangeline’s voice as I closed my eyes, ready to die.
She made a mistake, though. Penelope didn’t use silver bullets and she wasn’t a good shot, even at such a short distance. The hold just below my shoulder healed quickly, the wolf in me ensuring survival.
And now, a month later, I find myself writing this. Perhaps I feel the need to confess. I’ve taken countless lives and honestly, I don’t regret the ones I’ve hunted. The only death I wish I could have changed is that of Evangeline. I don’t want you to worry, though, if you bear this curse. I’m done with hunting. I’m done with killing. I’m tired and although I have lived a short time, my life has been too long. I think it is time to say goodbye and use that silver knife one last time.
For a year, I proved that there was no ghost in this house. For a year, I wandered my home, wishing there was but never hearing her. I dream of her, though, almost every night. And finally, her voice has begun to whisper to me in my waking hours. She does not cry and she does not tell me she loves me. She is angry and I know that there will be no escaping her wrath now.
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2020.08.22 12:50 Britneyfan456 Naked on sister spying my

It could be best run in terms of anything
Alfred Hitchcock: Vertigo, Rear Window, North by Northwest, Strangers on a Train, To Catch a Thief, Dial M for Murder, I Confess, Stage Fright, The Trouble with Harry, The Man Who Knew Too Much, and The Wrong Man.
Nicholas Ray: In a Lonely Place, Rebel Without a Cause, Bigger Than Life, Johnny Guitar, Bitter Victory, Macao, On Dangerous Ground, Party Girl, The Lusty Men, and Run for Cover.
Ingmar Bergman: The Seventh Seal, Smiles of a Summer Night, Wild Strawberries, Dreams, Summer Interlude, A Lesson in Love, The Magician, Secrets of Women, and Summer with Monika.
Billy Wilder: Sunset Boulevard, Sabrina, Some Like It, Stalag 17, Witness for the Prosecution, The Seven Year Itch, Ace in the Hole, Love in the Afternoon, and The Spirit of St. Louis.
Fred Zinnemann: From Here to Eternity, High Noon, The Men, Oklahoma!, The Nun's Story, A Hatful of Rain, The Old Man and the Sea, Teresa, and The Member of the Wedding.
George Stevens: Shane, Giant, A Place in the Sun, The Diary of Anne Frank, and Something to Live For.
John Huston: The Asphalt Jungle, The African Queen, The Red Badge of Courage, Moby Dick, Beat the Devil, The Barbarian and the Geisha, Heaven Knows, Mr. Allison, The Roots of Heaven, and Moulin Rouge.
Elia Kazan: On the Waterfront, A Streetcar Named Desire, East of Eden, Panic in the Streets, Baby Doll, A Face in the Crowd, Viva Zapata!, and Man on a Tightrope.
William Wyler: Ben Hur, Roman Holiday, The Big Country, Friendly Persuasion, Carrie, Detective Story, and The Desperate Hours.
Otto Preminger: The Man with the Golden Arm, Anatomy of a Murder, Where the Sidewalk Ends, The 13th Letter, Angel Face, The Moon Is Blue, Carmen Jones, Bonjour Tristesse, Porgy and Bess, Saint Joan, and
Federico Fellini: La Strada, Nights of Cabiria, I Vitelloni, Il bidone, The White Sheik, and Variety Lights.
Robert Wise: The Day the Earth Stood Still, Destination Gobi, This Could Be the Night, Run Silent, Run Deep, I Want to Live!, Odds Against Tomorrow, Executive Suite, Two Flags West, Somebody Up There Likes Me, The Desert Rats, So Big, and House on Telegraph Hill.
Fritz Lang: The Big Heat, Clash by Night, House by the River, American Guerrilla in the Philippines, While the City Sleeps, Human Desire, Rancho Notorious, and Moonfleet.
Akira Kurosawa: Rashomon, Seven Samurai, Ikiru, The Hidden Fortress, The Idiot, Throne of Blood, I Live in Fear, and The Lower Depths.
Orson Welles: Othello, Touch of evil, and Mr. Arkadin.
Stanley Kubrick: The Killing, Paths of Glory, Fear and Desire, and Killer's Kiss.
Luis Buñuel: Los Olvidados, El, Mexican Bus Ride, Robinson Crusoe, The Criminal Life of Archibaldo de la Cruz, and Nazarín.
Michael Curtiz: The Breaking Point, White Christmas, We're No Angels, King Creole, The Jazz Singer, The Egyptian, I'll See You in My Dreams, The Vagabond King, and The Proud Rebel.
John Ford: The Searchers, The Quiet Man, Mister Roberts, Wagon Master, Rio Grande, The Sun Shines Bright, Mogambo, The Long Gray Line, The Horse Soldiers, The Last Hurrah, The Wings of Eagles, What Price Glory, and When Willie Comes Marching Home.
Joseph L. Mankiewicz: All About Eve, No Way Out, People Will Talk, 5 Fingers, Julius Caesar, Guys and Dolls, The Barefoot Contessa, The Quiet American, and Suddenly, Last Summer.
Vincente Minnelli: The Bad and the Beautiful, Gigi, The Band Wagon, An American in Paris, Some Came Running, Designing Woman, Tea and Sympathy, The Cobweb, The Long, Long Trailer, Father of the Bride, Father's Little Dividend, Brigadoon, The Story of Three Loves, Lust for Life, and Kismet.
Robert Bresson: The Diary of a Country Girl, Pick Pocket, and A Man Escaped.
Yasujirō Ozu: Tokyo Story, Floating Weeds, The Munekata Sisters, Early Summer, Early Spring, Tokyo Twilight, Good Morning, Equinox Flower, and The Flavor of Green Tea over Rice.
Alexander Mackendrick: The Lady Killers, Sweet Smell of Success, The Man in the White Suit, Mandy, and The Maggie.
Douglas Sirk: Written on the Wind, Imitation of Life, All That Heaven Allows, Magnificent Obsession, A Time to Love and a Time to Die, There's Always Tomorrow, The Tarnished Angels, Battle Hymn, The First Legion, All I Desire, Take Me to Town, Meet Me at the Fair, and Interlude.
Satyajit Ray: The Apu Trilogy, The Music Room, and Parash Pathar.
Robert Aldrich: Kiss Me Deadly, Vera Cruz, The Big Knife, Autumn Leaves, The Angry Hills, Ten Seconds to Hell, Apache, and Big Leaguer.
Richard Brooks: Blackboard Jungle, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, Deadline – U.S.A., Crisis, Battle Circus, The Last Time I Saw Paris, Take the High Ground!, The Last Hunt, and The Brothers Karamazov.
George Cukor: A Star Is Born, Born Yesterday, Bhowani Junction, It Should Happen to You, Les Girls, Wild is the Wind, The Actress, Pat and Mike, Hot Spell, A Life of Her Own, and The Marrying Kind.
Byron Haskin: The War of the Worlds, The First Texan, Conquest of Space, From the Earth to the Moon, The Little Savage, The Boss, Tarzan's Peril, His Majesty O'Keefe, Warpath, Silver City, And Treasure Island.
Howard Hawks: Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, Rio Bravo, The Big Sky, Monkey Business, Land of the Pharaohs, and O. Henry's Full House.
Roberto Rossellini: Where Is Freedom?, Journey to Italy, General Della Rovere, Europe '51, The Machine to Kill Bad People, We, the Women, The Ways of Love, Francesco, giullare di Dio, Stromboli, Fear, India: Matri Bhumi, and Joan of Arc at the Stake.
Jean Renoir: The Ways of Love, French Cancan, The River, Elena and Her Men, Elena and Her Men, The Doctor's Horrible Experiment, and Picnic on the Grass.
Jules Dassin: Night and The City, Rififi, He Who Must Die, and The Law.
Vittorio De Sica: Terminal Station, Umberto D., Miracle in Milan, The Roof, and Anna of Brooklyn.
Kenji Mizoguchi: Ugetsu, The Life of Oharu, The Crucified Lovers, Sansho the Bailiff, The Woman in the Rumor, A Geisha, Princess Yang Kwei Fei, Shin Heike Monogatari, and Street of Shame.
Roy Ward Baker: A Night to Remember, Don't Bother to Knock, I'll Never Forget You, Morning Departure, Highly Dangerous, Inferno, Night Without Sleep, The One That Got Away, Passage Home, Jacqueline, and Tiger in the Smoke.
Henri-Georges Clouzot: The Wages of Fear, Les Diaboliques, Les Espions, The Mystery of Picasso, and Miquette.
Anthony Mann: The Man from Laramie, The Naked Spur, Winchester '73, The Glenn Miller Story, Side Street, The Tall Target, Devil's Doorway, The Furies, Bend of the River, Man of the West, God's Little Acre, Men in War, Strategic Air Command, The Tin Star, Serenade, The Far Country, and The Last Frontier.
Don Siegel: Crime in the Streets, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, Edge of Eternity, Baby Face Nelson, Spanish Affair, The Duel at Silver Creek, An Annapolis Story, Riot in Cell Block 11, China Venture, Private Hell 36, The Lineup, Hound-Dog Man, and Count the Hours.
John Sturges: Bad Day at Black Rock, Gunfight at the O.K. Corral, The People Against O'Hara, Escape from Fort Bravo, The Old Man and the Sea, Backlash, The Scarlet Coat, Jeopardy, Fast Company, Mystery Street, Right Cross, Last Train from Gun Hill, The Law and Jake Wade, Big Country, and Underwater!.
Samuel Fuller: Pickup on South Street, Hell and High Water, The Crimson Kimono, Forty Guns, Dog Face, Run of the Arrow, China Gate, House of Bamboo, Verboten!, The Steel Helmet, The Baron of Arizona, Park Row, and Fixed Bayonets!.
Joseph H. Lewis: The Big Combo, Retreat, Hell!, A Lady Without Passport, Desperate Search, Man on a Bus, Cry of the Hunted, A Lawless Street, The Halliday Brand, Terror in a Texas Town, and 7th Cavalry.
Jean-Pierre Melville: Les Enfants Terribles, Orpheus, Quatre sans millions!, When You Read This Letter, Bob le flambeur, and Two Men in Manhattan.
Phil Carlson: The Phenix City Story, Kansas City Confidential, 99 River Street, Hell's Island, The Iroquois Trail, The Brigand, Scandal Sheet, Gunman's Walk, Mask of the Avenger, Lorna Doone, The Texas Rangers, Tight Spot, They Rode West, The Brothers Rico, and 5 Against the House.
Martin Ritt: The Long, Hot Summer, Edge of the City, The Black Orchid, No Down Payment, and The Sound and the Fury.
Louis Malle: Les Amants, Elevator to the Gallows, Crazeologie, and Station 307.
Carol Reed: Our Man in Havana, The Key, Trapeze, The Man Between, A Kid for Two Farthings, and Outcast of the Islands.
Masaki Kobayashi: The Human Condition Trilogy, Youth of the Son, Three Loves, Somewhere Under The Broad Sky, The Spring, Beautiful Days, I Will Buy You, Black River, Sincere Heart, and The Thick-Walled Room.
Stanley Donen: Singin' in the Rain, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers, Royal Wedding, Funny Face, Indiscreet, Damn Yankees, The Pajama Game, Kiss Them for Me, and It's Always Fair Weather.
Gene Kelly: It's Always Fair Weather, Singin' in the Rain, Invitation to the Dance, and The Tunnel of Love.
Ida Lupino: The Hitch-Hiker, Outrage, The Bigamist, and Hard, Fast and Beautiful.
Budd Boetticher: The Tall T, Bullfighter and the Lady, City Beneath the Sea, East of Sumatra, Red Ball Express, Seven Men from Now, The Killer Is Loose, Ride Lonesome, Buchanan Rides Alone, Decision at Sundown, Westbound, The Magnificent Matador, The Man from the Alamo, Seminole, The Cimarron Kid, Killer Shark, Bronco Buster, Wings of the Hawk, and Horizons West.
Andre DeToth: Day of the Outlaw, House of Wax, Man in the Saddle, Riding Shotgun, Crime Wave, Last of the Comanches, Tanganyika, The Bounty Hunter, Hidden Fear, The Indian Fighter, Monkey on My Back, The Two-Headed Spy, Thunder Over the Plains, The Stranger Wore a Gun, Carson City, and Springfield Rifle.
Delmer Daves: 3:10 to Yuma, Broken Arrow, Demetrius and the Gladiators, White Feather, Drum Beat, Treasure of the Golden Condor, Jubal, The Last Wagon, Kings Go Forth, Cowboy, The Badlanders, The Hanging Tree, A Summer Place, Bird of Paradise, and Never Let Me Go.
William A. Wellman: Track of the Cat, The High and the Mighty, Blood Alley, Darby's Rangers, Lafayette Escadrille, Good-bye, My Lady, The Next Voice You Hear..., Westward the Women, Island in the Sky, My Man and I, Across the Wide Missouri, and The Happy Years.
Max Ophüls: La Ronde, The Earrings of Madame de…, Lola Montès, and Le Plaisir.
Delbert Mann: Marty, The Bachelor Party, Desire Under the Elms, Middle of the Night, and Separate Tables.
David Lean: The Bridge on the River Kwai, Madeleine, The Sound Barrier, Summertime, and Hobson's Choice.
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2020.08.08 17:27 HotherLoresbane Spying on my sister naked

The Prophecy
In A Feast For Crows, we begin to learn through Cersei's chapters of an old practitioner of blood magic she once met in Lannisport known as Maggy the Frog, (likely a corruption of the term Maegi.) At age 10 Cersei, accompanied by two friends, visits Maggy the Frog to have her fortune told. This leads to the introduction of the Valonqar prophecy.

Cersei: Will the king and I have children? Maggy: Oh, aye. Six-and-ten for him, and three for you. Gold shall be their crowns and gold their shrouds. And when your tears have drowned you, the valonqar shall wrap his hands about your pale white throat and choke the life from you. - Cersei VIII, AFFC
Cersei later asks of her septa what the term 'Valonqar' means and is told it is High Valyrian for 'little brother'. Cersei interprets the prophecy to be refering to her younger brother Tyrion, whom she already had an animosity towards at this age due to the death of her mother following Tyrion's birth. This prophecy helps affirm her belief that Tyrion is responsible for the death of her son, Joffrey.
Given that this is the most straight-forward answer to the riddle of who the Valonqar is, I believe it can be safely discounted. The usefulness of the prophecy as a storytelling device is negated if the solution is Tyrion, as Cersei's hatred for him in the first three books is easily explained away by her attributing her mother's death to his birth, her inherent narcicism, and her emulation of her father Tywin who equally despises Tyrion. There is simply no need for a prophecy to explain this grudge.
If Tyrion is to be discounted, then the only brother remaining to Cersei is her twin Jaime. In A Game of Thrones, Cersei has this to say on her and Jaime's birth:
"Jaime and I are more than brother and sister. We are one person in two bodies. We shared a womb together. He came into this world holding my foot, our old maester said. When he is in me, I feel ... whole." - Eddard XII, AGOT
The common interpretation of this quote is that Cersei was born, by a fraction of seconds, before Jaime. As such, Jaime Lannister would be Cersei's little brother, thereby fulfilling the Valonqar prophecy.
However, if we as readers are expected to dismiss out of hand the potential that Tyrion is the Valonqar, then by default we must assume that Jaime fulfils the prophecy. This is the assumption that GRRM wants his readers to jump to. I believe he expects his readers to know Tyrion is too obvious an answer, and therefore steers the reader's speculation towards Jaime.
For this reason, I believe that Jaime is a red herring. Tyrion is too obvious to be the answer, so the next logical jump is Jaime. This gives the readers glee as they read through Jaime's chapters in A Feast for Crows and see him slowly turning against Cersei, believing that they know where his arc will end up. I do not believe that GRRM has a track record for predictable storytelling. So then... Who fulfils the Valonqar prophecy?
High Valyrian
What strikes me about Maggy the Frog's prophecy is the usage of the term Valonqar, a High Valyrian term, whereas the rest of her predictions (of which she grants three,) are in the Westerosi tongue. Although originally from Essos, Maggy seems to have enough of a handle on the common language that she needn't rely on High Valyrian when giving her prophecy.
If we assume that the use of the language is specific, then there must be some aspect to the term in its untranslated state that is vital to our understanding of the prophecy. It should be noted that all of Maggy's predictions are deliberately vague, and so allowing for meaning to be lost in translation here is in keeping with her usage of prophecy.
A Feast For Crows offers us some wisdom on High Valyrian in a Sam chapter when Maester Aemon discusses another prophecy, that of the Prince That Was Promised.
"The error crept in from the translation. Dragons are neither male nor female, Barth saw the truth of that, but now one and now the other, as changeable as flame. The language misled us all for a thousand years." - Samwell IV, AFFC
Maester Aemon believes that the High Valyrian word which, when translated into Westerosi became rendered as 'Prince', is in fact gender neutral in its original tongue. Maester Aemon brings this up as he believes that Daenerys is the Prince That Was Promised.
Is it possible that there are other gender neutral words in High Valyrian that, when rendered into Westerosi, become masculine? I am of the belief that this is the case, and that Valonqar more truthfully means 'younger sibling' rather than 'younger brother'.
I believe this for much the same reason I believe Jaime cannot be the Valonqar. Stannis is presented as the obvious answer to the Prince That Was Promised riddle you are meant to dismiss, and information in the text (provided by a trustworthy character in Aemon,) depicts Daenerys as the likely true answer. For reasons I won't dive into here, I suspect Daenerys isn't the Prince, (or at least is only half of the tale,) which renders the question of why does GRRM put to the readers this information that prophecies aimed at men can in fact mean women?
I believe GRRM is signalling to the readers that there are other prophecies in the story besides the Prince That Was Promised that could have a gender bias. I further believe that the Valonqar prophecy, also introduced in the book where this issue is discussed, is the real prophecy we are meant to treat with scrutiny when it comes to the gender of the subject.
But surely the Valonqar cannot be a woman, as Cersei has no younger sisters. Right?
The Sins of Tywin Lannister
It is frequently remarked how much Tywin loved his wife and cousin, Joanna Lannister, whose death is the impetus for his own hatred of Tyrion. It is also noted that Tywin never married again, though he was certainly young enough and wealthy enough to have made a good husband to many. There is a fairytale concocted in the Lannister family that Tywin's love for his wife was so strong that he never sought to marry again. In Cersei's first chapter in A Feast For Crows, a prostitute is found completely naked and dead in Tywin's bedchambers, with Tywin himself having also been killed. Cersei instantly remarks that the situation cannot be what it looks like, as Tywin despised prostitutes. Famously, Tywin's own father, Lord Tytos Lannister, had a mistress who allegedly beggared the family.
However, Tyrion's perspective of events in A Storm of Swords confirms for us that Tywin had in fact slept with Shae prior to their murder. This comes across as a great hypocrisy, as Tywin had on many occasions lambasted Tyrion for his usage of prostitutes. It is apparent that Tywin felt it was sinful or degrading, but that it was a sin he himself partook in and chose to keep hidden.
In his position as Hand of the King, it would be easy for Tywin to invite Shae, a witness to the murder trial of the king, into his quarters. It provides a cover wherein Tywin's honour could not easily be besmirched. This is fine, but a rare opportunity. At Casterly Rock it is likely that Tywin could hide any illicit meetings easily, but in the political nest of King's Landing this becomes far more difficult with spies throughout the Red Keep and city at large.
Luckily for Tywin Lannister, there is a way to have clandestine meetings unmonitored.
The Secret Tunnel
In A Clash of Kings, Tyrion is looking for a way of seeing his lover Shae without being found out by the various watching eyes of the court. A solution is presented to him by Varys, who has an intimate knowledge of the secret passages throughout the Red Keep that have existed since Maegor the Cruel. There are two things noteable about the secret passage Varys introduces Tyrion to; it is accessible via the Tower of the Hand, and it is was installed at a later date than the construction of the Red Keep.
Tyrion: How is it a brothel happens to have a secret entrance? Varys: The tunnel was dug for another King's Hand, whose honor would not allow him to enter such a house openly. Chataya has closely guarded the knowledge of its existence. - Tyrion III, ACOK
Now whilst we can't know for certain when this tunnel was installed or by which Hand of the King, the fact that the information of a secret tunnel into a brothel has not come to light as the brothel's ownership exchanges hands over the years suggests to me that it is of relatively recent design. Varys noting that Chataya has guarded the secret makes it seem like she was the owner when it was created, and Varys knowing its backstory would make sense were it constructed in a time when he was present at King's Landing as well.
Finally, we have Varys' character profile of the Hand who built it. A man whose sense of honour would not allow them to enter a brotherl openly. Someone who publicly would not associate with brothels, but privately indulges in prostitutes. This matches the description of Tywin Lannister, and likely during his first tenure as Hand of the King under Aerys II Targaryen.
Now if we assume that Tywin built this tunnel and used it, then there is no telling how many times he frequented Chataya's Brothel. But if that was the case, and if Tywin were a frequent user of the brothel, wouldn't there be a bastard? What thematic purpose does Tywin constructing a tunnel to a brothel serve? We already know he used prostitutes when Shae is found in his bed. What is the storytelling purpose of specifically signifying that Tywin Lannister constructed this tunnel?
The Younger Sister
We are introduced to many of Chataya's girls, the prostitutes under her employ. One of them is a girl named Marei. Marei has blonde hair and green eyes, common Lannister traits, and is described by Tyrion as
Very lovely, but too solemn by half - Tyrion VII, ACOK
The striking thing about Marei isn't her looks however; it is her literacy. Marei, despite being a prostitute and smallfolk, is able to read and write and is noted as teaching the other prostitutes in Chataya's Brothel how to read. The question is, how did a prostitute with no noble family get taught the ability to read and write? Could Marei have received certain funds from a father who, ashamed of having brought a bastard into the world that his honour would never allow him to publicly recognise, decided to see her educated as recompense for his sinning?
I believe not only that Marei is the secret, illegitimate child of Tywin Lannister, but also that she will be the true answer to the Valonqar prophecy. The circumstances under which this will occur are not readily apparent, however Marei does have access to a secret tunnel into the Red Keep. I think it would be in keeping with GRRM's writing style to have the Valonqar be a candidate very much out of left field, but for whom the information is all there in the text if read close enough. There would also be some poetic justice in Cersei, who sees herself as the successor to Tywin Lannister, meeting her undoing by Tywin's own past sins.
His Hands
Just to pre-empt the pitfall in my suggestion, the one downfall to this theory is that Maggy references, "his hands" in her prophecy. It should be noted that the presence of the Valonqar is very odd, in reference to Cersei's initial question. Cersei asks if she will have children with the king, to which Maggy responds with the number of children Cersei and Robert will have separately, and that her children will predecease her.
Then, for some reason, Maggy decides to take this one step further and describe to Cersei the circumstances of her own death. This does not seem in keeping with the question presented, but we must assume that there was some relevance as to why Maggy framed it in this fashion. My final speculation is that the "his" in this equation isn't refering to the Valonqar at all, but to the King.
Cersei: Will the king and I have children? Maggy: Oh, aye. Six-and-ten for him, and three for you. Gold shall be their crowns and gold their shrouds. And when your tears have drowned you, the valonqar shall wrap his hands about your pale white throat and choke the life from you.
Now the King's hands refer not to Robert, but to the office of Hand of the King. More specifically, to the necklace of interconnected hands used to signify the office of Hand of the King, which we have seen in this story already can be used as a murder weapon. In this fashion, Marei would be killing Cersei in the same way that Tyrion killed Shae, using golden hands reminiscent of Jaime's own golden hand, as well as the chains of office which allowed Tywin to bring about Marei in the first place.
tl;dr Marei, one of Chataya's girls, is Tywin's bastard and the Valonqar
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