Real caught on camera sex

A new study shows that starvation (eating 600 kcal/day) can reverse type 2-diabetes, just like gastric bypass surgery. Again, there is no need to explain the effect of the surgery with other speculative theories. The resulting starvation reverses diabetes. DM Appreciation Day (self.dndnext) submitted 4 years ago by jwords DM I highly recommend (all you players out there) take some time and consider taking your DM out to lunch or maybe pitch in and do something nice for them. One day over lunch, I got a DM from NASA (yep, the one with 57M followers...) and I almost choked on my water. NASA sliding into my DMs, now there’s something I never thought I’d see! They said they loved my super old and embarrassing “A Song About Space” video from my channel and asked if they could possibly use it for a promo vid. One group got a Dove Dark Chocolate bar every day for two weeks. Like other dark chocolate bars with high-cocoa content, this one is loaded with something called epicatechin. A Day To Remember's music video for 'We Got This' from the album, Bad Vibrations - available now on ADTR Records (distributed by Epitaph Records). Download t... This one is probably the biggest: unless you’re messaging a business or celebrity with a PR person, you’re trying to get in contact with a real-live-human-being. When you’re looking at accounts, it’s easy to forget that they’re real humans with jobs and errands to run. “One Day” is Tate McRae’s debut single, posted to YouTube on October 20th, 2017. In the song, Tate speaks about unrequited love and the inner thoughts of a girl and a guy pining over each other. Monday Tally New pages written: 0 (goal: 6.2 pages per day)Old pages revised on paper: lotsPages of revisions typed in: lotsPages lost or gained due to revisions: -5Total page count to date: 217 (goal: 200) for sure closer to 215 now.Days remaining until D-day: 1 days Emails from editor in UK: 2 (she wanted to […] Bobby Bare sings One Day at a Time. "I live one day At a time I dream one dream At a time Yeasterday's dead And tomorrow is blind I just live one day At a ti... One-click “Buckler” Access. Every month I package all of the content released over the month into Buckler - a single digital download. No more sifting through past posts to find and collect everything released that month! I package it all up neatly for ya so you have a month's worth of goodies to access with one-click.

2020.09.18 22:14 guntergrassinmypipe I got a DM one day

I had a horrible experience last night.
Well, and, the weeks leading up to it were pretty bad too. It all started when I got a DM on my meme page. Rosalina. 356 followers. 3 following. 0 posts. Private account. I opened it.
“Hi, I know this is an odd message to get, but I’m looking for a sugar baby. I will pay you $600 weekly if you take your time and keep me busy. I’m mostly just looking for someone to talk to because I’m lonely. If the first week is what I’m looking for, then I’ll start giving you more. Sound good?”
$600 a week. $31,000. I only make $12,000 a year now with all the classes I’m taking. I got a nervous flutter in my stomach, like I had found a mysterious briefcase full of money in the middle of nowhere. Like she was actively waiting for my response, almost watching me through the white screen, but not saying anything until I took the bait. I requested to follow her and mulled it over once more. $600 a week is more than I could ask for, basically a saving grace. I went for it.
“Uh, yeah I can do that. What do you wanna talk about?”
She replied an instant later.
“Anything hun.”
“Wyd.” I asked. A very compelling and carefully crafted question.
“Nothing. Wby?”
“At my grandparents house playing cornhole. You know those cornhole boards go for $80? I’m thinking about making them for some extra income.”
“That’s nothing babe. You can buy all the cornhole boards you want now.”
“Haha I guess you’re right.”
“Text me babe. (xxx)xxx-xxxx”
I checked her profile. Still hadn’t accepted my request. I had a dark thought that this was all a scam, which it certainly could be. For all I know, there could be a saggy, wrinkly faced old man with sunken eyes and heavy bags, key lit by a phone screen talking to me. Probably in a dark messy room with stained beige carpet, and missing sections of wall that revealed the lathe. But no way an old man could get a follow ratio like that. Only women could pull that off. With no photos either, just a plump round behind in the profile picture.
“I’ll text u when I get home.” I said
“Ok hun.”
I was messaging her on the stairs. I really was at my grandparents house playing cornhole, and here I was selfishly being a sugar baby. Not once have I ever thought about or fantasized about being a sugar baby. My sister and her boyfriend walked up to me.
“Whatcha doing brother?”
“Nothing” I said, “some lady is trying to get me to be her sugar baby.”
“Whatttt. Nuh uh.” she said
“Yuh huh.” I said, “she wants to pay me $600 a week just to talk to her.”
My sister’s face twisted.
“Hmmm. What do you think Ava would think of it?”
her boyfriend let out a little laugh
I hadn’t even thought of that. What a shitty boyfriend I was. Ava would probably not like it, and I wouldn’t try and hide something like that. Because if she found out it would seem highly suspicious. Most people equate sugar baby to sex. But Rosalina did say all she wanted to do was talk.
“Oh yeah.” I said, “Well nevermind. This seems like a bad idea.”
“I wish I could find a sugar mama.”
My sister reflexively turned and slapped her boyfriend.
“Ouch babe. Only if it was you, baby.” and they walked away.
I typed Rosalina’s number into my phone to call her and tell her I couldn’t do it. But after a few tones I panicked and hung up. Fuck, I thought. I’ll just DM her and then immediately block her. So I wrote a quick message: “Sorry, I understand your offer, but I don’t know how my girlfriend would feel about this, even if it was strictly platonic. Sorry again.” I hit send, and blocked her. She never accepted my follow request. And even though I blocked her, a new message came though.
When I got home I got a phone call from Rosalina. I forgot that I had rung her and didn’t block the number afterward. I blocked her and looked up the area code. Chicago.
After that strange things started happening. I got a random call from another Chicago number. I picked up out of sheer boredom and answered in an old lady’s voice.
“Hi.” I squeaked
“Man quit fucking with me.” he said jokingly
“You ugly as hell quit playing man.”
“Whaaat do yoooouuuu neeeed?”
“This Martin?” he asked
And I answered in my real voice.
“Nope. You got the wrong number bud.” and chuckled
“Aw shit. My bad.”
And he hung up.
I started to get a lot of random calls from people in Chicago. One time it was old lady, and she thought I was a friend of hers because I did the old lady voice, and we talked about her grandkid’s senior year in highschool. Another time it was a woman yelling and screaming about me cheating on her, and how I was using a fake voice to avoid her. Another time it was a child calling me to ask for a change of pants at school because he wet himself and everyone was laughing at him.
Then my neighbor started parking her matte black jetta in front of my driveway at night, next to the streetlamp. Blocking my driveway completely, and she only ever did it at night. During the day she parks it in her driveway. One morning I asked her why she was doing it, and she looked at me nasty.
“Don’t talk to me.” she said, and jogged away with her dog.
These little stressors were getting to me. Just mundane, inconvenient occurrences. At least I could find a way to make a good time out of the phonecalls, but what if I had to go to the hospital some night, and my neighbor’s car was in the driveway and I forgot, and hit it while backing out? It was just uncool. And the thing is, it REALLY started to drive me crazy, and I’ll explain why. When I first moved in I had these awesome, fully functional wooden french blinds, the kind with long horizontal slats that flip open or closed by pulling on a string. And on the first night my cat cut one of the strings. So the bottom half of the blinds in my bedroom won’t close. They just dangle open like the spine was ripped straight out of them. So when I lay in bed I can see out of the window and across the street.
My driveway is quite long, so it’s very dark from my house to the street, and the streetlight had already been bothering me. Sometimes I can’t close my eyes all the way when they’re fully relaxed, I think it has to do with me taking my contacts out before bed (I get one day lenses). They open slightly and I have to consciously force them closed, which makes it harder to fall asleep. And I can see the damn streetlight. And I can’t sleep on my other side because I have a bad shoulder from a climbing injury, and if I sleep on it I’ll wake up in the middle of the night in extreme pain. And the only way I can stop it is to hold my arm straight up for a few minutes until it goes away. But now that my GODDAMN NEIGHBOR PARKS HER CAR IN FRONT OF MY DRIVEWAY, her car reflects the street lamp and there are two lights now. I lie in bed and it takes forever to fall asleep because I just end up looking at these lights in the darkness.
So one night when I couldn’t sleep, I got my slim jim (a tool for opening cars through the gap in the window and door, I got it off amazon with a lock picking kit) and was gonna go move her car myself. I figured her fab was close enough since she didn’t have much of a yard and I could start it with the ignition button. I was gonna move it no matter what. I imagined getting a bulldozer from a development down the street and crushing her car to a pulp. (Most of the time the ignition for heavy machinery can be fooled with a flathead screwdriver) But as I got to the top of the driveway her car wasn’t blocking there. It was all nestled up in her driveway. I had been so angry about the stupid lights that just assumed both of them were there, so my brain connected the dots and I saw the other light. It was 3 am. I was tired.
I went to sleep and pulled the sheets over my head, and SHE MOVED HER CAR BACK. I don’t know how or why, but sure enough I could see two little balls of light haloed through the stitching.
After school the next day I came home and caught my neighbor outside.
“Hey,” I said
“Don’t fucking talk to me.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I did to you.”
“I know your game. You created a ruse so that you could get in with me, and now you’re watching me every night.”
“I, uhhh, what?”
“You made up the car thing so you could talk to me. Well don’t talk to me.”
I was taken aback. This bitch is crazy. I got mad.
“YOU’VE been parking YOUR car in front of MY driveway. EVERY FUCKING NIGHT.”
She looked stunned.
“Are you freaking psycho? My car has been broken down, asshole. Go fuck yourself and don’t talk to me.”
Astonished, I pulled into my driveway.
The audacity of that woman. She must’ve had some secret to hide. Why would she so vehemently deny something undeniable? Again, random calls and a lying neighbor are not the worst things, an inconvenience at worst. But the name calling, the utter arrogance of that woman, the fact I couldn’t sleep, and the phone calls were all adding up, and the weird thing is the calls started coming from St. Louis. I picked up the first call normally because I expected the buttdials to come from Chicago.
A teenage guy was on the other end.
“Yo we ready.” he said
“For what?” I asked
“Come by like we said.”
He paused.
“Wait, say, what’s your name?”
I told him my real name, an in-the-moment accident, “Bob Suede.”
“Fuck you whoever you is.”
His tone changed immediately.
“Baton Rouge ass, ugly ass ‘BoB-Bi SwAdE’ ass boy.”
And he hung up.
That was the first time anyone had recognized the error in my area code. But the guy must’ve known that I was from Baton Rouge before he called. The calls from Chicago were one thing, because somehow it was all correlated with Rosalina. I only started getting them after I blocked her number, but now they were coming from St. Louis. So she must’ve had connections somewhere in the cellular communications industry, how I don’t know. Usually it would be telemarketers and not random people.
Then I got another call from St. Louis. This time it was a woman, and she was sobbing.
“WHHHYYYYY? How could you do this? HOW COULD YOU!”
And she let out a horrible wail, crying loudly and making mucusy noises.
“Ma’m,” I replied “I don’t know who you are but you need to calm down and tell me your name.”
Another long wail, followed by more gurgling and wet tears.
“Ma’am please calm down. You called the wrong number. I’ve been getting-”
“WHY WOULD YOU KILL MY BABY. my little baby!” Now she was shrieking, letting out the most horrific scratches, and erupted, “I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU AND PUT YOUR ASS IN JAIL BOB!”
How in the hell…
She was huffing now, heavy and on the verge of hyperventilating.
She screamed and I Imagined a frighteningly skinny, beady eyed woman on the other end, face wet and slimy with snot and tears, the end of her phone almost in her mouth.
She let out a final declaration, “AHHHHHHGGGG”
And hung up.
In the stress of the phone call I had dug my short fingernails quite far into my palm, and it was purple and pierced with little crimson indentations. How did she know my name though? Bob is a pretty common name I suppose, but it seemed too good of an explanation to be true.
The strange calls kept coming, but the interval between them increased. A few days went by and I still couldn’t get any sleep. My pathological liar and nuisance of a neighbor kept parking her car in front of my driveway. My shoulder still ached. I got a facemask and this helped a little. But I still had the urge to peek underneath it and stare at the lights, just to make sure they were there. And I was mad too. I was fixated on them. Two floating blobs of light, a couple inches apart, highlighting leaves, wavering. Surrounded by darkness. Fuck her.
I started to get calls from Memphis, one guy was running from the police and begging me to come save him. A trans hooker tried to convince me to snort blow off her nipples. A kid called and asked me to walk to Tom Lee river park, to which I replied “I don’t live by Tomb Lee riverpark, I live next to Parkview Park.”
Which was true. And he said,
“See ya Mr. Brown.”
And hung up. Fucking weird shit. I certainly didn’t have caller ID for my phone. As for the lights, I got one of those hunting cameras that has an automatic trigger and set it up at the end of my driveway, to prove to my neighbor that she was insane.
The next day I got a call from Jackson Mississippi, and now I’m scared. It was the lady from before, bawling her eyes out. Blubbering through mucus and slop.
“Listen lady. I don’t know how you got my number or my name but I DON’T KNOW YOU.”
“YOOOUUU KILLLLLLED MY BABBBBYYYYY.” she screamed. She sounded like she was simultaneously being shredded apart by a bear, or running from a murderer yelling for help. Any number of dark, twisted things. The images I imagined were horrible. A fat, plump woman, blouse wet with tears and stuck to her skin, her saggy breasts covered in blood, a grey veiny baby in a crib. Her horrible sobbing, her soaking face, runny with makeup and excretions, a trembling, convulsing mouth shrieking into the end of the phone.
I fumbled to end the call, my screen protector making it impossible to press the red button. In the scramble I heard her yell one last, barely coherent thing: “I’M COM-? SU?DE!”
Committing what? Coming Suede? No. Couldn’t be. She said she was committing suicide. Her baby died or she was crazy. It’s my lack of sleep and that sugar mom lady put my number on a spam call list, or she posted my number to instagram and had her followers call me. She only knows people in a certain range. From Chicago and down south. Lots of people happen to have family spread out along the Mississippi River. Grandparents in the north and grandparents in the south, and all their kids spread in between.
I need to sleep, I thought. And I couldn’t have made a worse decision.
Before I went to sleep, I turned the lights off and got on my laptop to check the hunting camera footage from the night before. I got a couple videos. One of a cat. Some sneaky possums. A homeless woman early in the morning. But no matte black jetta.
I felt a chill run down my spine. I felt a fluttering in my stomach.
I slowly closed the laptop and reluctantly peered through the hole in the blinds. The lights were there. Two of them.
Just to be sure that I wasn’t being an insane dickhead, and falsely accusing my neighbor on the basis of a reflection, I put in my contacts and checked.
What I saw was not two blobs of light. It was a woman’s eyes. Her face was pressed hard against the window. She was sobbing horribly and spattered mucus all over the glass.
“YOU KILLED MY BABBBBYYYYY” she yelled, and she slammed her phone against the window. It was Rosalina’s profile on instagram.
And then the glass cracked.
submitted by guntergrassinmypipe to nosleep [link] [comments]

2020.09.18 15:36 Seamus5150 On real camera sex caught

Original Post link. I apologize as it was poorly written and contextualized, as I was inebriated most of that Thursday.
So... I have received nearly 1,000 requests for some type of update or information on what's going on in my pain and hate filled life. Per my new therapist, he said to go ahead and do it. It will help me re-center and focus.
To those that kept saying "ThaT's NoT HoW SnApChAt WoRkS" Yes, you are correct, she had that running in the background, it was Whats app. I don't really give a shit, I saw it. I again need to thank Dyson for their app and the kick ass fan I got from my Brother in law for Christmas.
Here goes.
I'm going to give a deeper background on our situation to help with some perspective on why I feel the way I do. My original post was pretty much a stream of consciousness and felt as disjointed as I did then.
I went to college in Las Vegas in the mid '90's. I graduated in 1999. I had a blast there. I "Got Around" (Fucked) It was during this formative time I decided to never marry, it was/is an outdated concept that essentially removes your agency, and, I definitely did NOT want children.
When I graduated with my degree in Nursing, I quickly excelled in Cardiovascular Intensive Care. I moved home to Texas in 2001 and pursued my Masters Degree to be an Advanced Practice RN/ Nurse Practitioner with a specialization in CV Surgery. While I was achieving this, I decided to pursue medical school and shifted course work to fill in what I needed to apply. It was then that I met my STBXW. She was a short chubby (I believe the kids today would say THICC) red headed fire cracker. We met in a code. It was intense; both the attraction and the "Dating." We were saying I LOVE YOU within 3 months...
She was a mother of two (Remember, I wanted to be child free) that had been divorced for about 2 years. She was just getting out of an on again off again relationship when we met. We "Dated" for about 2 years and she slowly introduced her daughters to me age (11,6). She sat me down one night and gave me a pretty heartfelt but pragmatic talk about "Us" or where we were at the time, and what she needed/expected from me, or any other partner. Essentially she said it was time to either get married or move on. I was still pretty anti-marriage and she respected that. She was telling me this to give me a chance to think about "Us" and what the future looked like. She had a pretty good point in that we were living together (8 months) and even had each other as persons to notify in an emergency, she joked, that all that was missing was having each other on our insurance. It was a good honest talk and we agreed that we would continue on for a bit more, but, I would ultimately have to make "The Decision."
2 weeks later, I had an acceptance letter to a Medical school about 2 hours away. I was extatic and crushed at the same time. I had just had my 26th Birthday and was about to accomplish a huge life goal! Then I realized I'd never see her or the girls. My self doubt got the better of me. Being a medical student, then resident, with a fellowship was going to be a roughly 7 year process, all the while, I could not make the money or support the lifestyle we had grown accustomed to. I thought about the prospect of at least 7 years of loans, debt, and work, and losing her...
So I declined and switched back to a Masters in Nursing Administration.
We got married in July of 2003 it was an intimate and personal ceremony with just immediate family and friends.
---While my parents adore the girls (Rightly so) they have always been stand-offish with STBXW. On Monday when I told my parents what was happening, and, that there was a real possibility the girls could stop being as prevalent in their life as they have been, they told me that they felt that STBXW was damaged goods being married prior to and "Forcing me to compromise." That really hit home, and to a certain extent they were/are correct.---
After I graduated I didn't want to be a manager or director. I'm a hands on guy that likes taking care of patients. The hospital I was at offered a certification in ECMO and a Perfusionist credential. It was a highly competitive application, but I got in. For the past 11 years, I have been doing ECMO and all things related. I have had a blast and it has been challenging as well as heartbreaking at times.
My STBXW decided about 5 years ago that being an RN on the floor had run its course and she wanted a more 9 to 5 job that did not involve patients or drama. She got on through a friend at a multi-state legal consultancy that specializes in medical legal suites. She abstracts data from patient charts and presents it in the manner requested.
So that's the set up.
On Saturday morning DDay+2: I only slept a few hours. I had dark, disturbing thoughts regarding my future and life. I had (Still do) thoughts and scenarios of death and violence upon them and myself...
I was in the kitchen making breakfast, eggs and toast, when she walked into the kitchen still bleary eyed. She asked if I would make her some... I threw it in the trash in front of her. I then proceeded to load up my record player and play music from my youth at an uncomfortable volume to prevent her from trying to talk to me. (Real mature I know). I began Pain Shopping big time, reading the print out in chronological order. I do and I don't recommend it, by the afternoon I was done with Blackflag and Danzig, I was listening to torch / break up songs by Chris Isaak and Ray Lamontagne. She approached again. This time she was almost indignant. Asking what purpose notifying the AP's wife served. I stared at her for what felt like an inappropriate amount of time, a bit dumb founded. I told her point blank that at least she (AP's wife) would get the chance to make an informed decision about her future instead of compromising and sacrificing for someone that would betray them so selfishly. I guess my message to the AP's wife was received and things were not good for him. She sat down on the couch and began to tear up and sob. I told her I was cried out, or more correctly I was so numb that I will do that later, when I am done doing what needs to be done. She asked timidly, all indignation / bravado gone from her voice, what else I "Had to do?" I told her to ruin your life and give you the pain I have now. I told her that if she had ANY respect for me or "Love" for me, she would open her phone and show me EVERYTHING. She refused and said that it didn't matter and all I would do is hold it against her. I said, there was a part of me, the completionist in me, that wanted to know. She refused and went to the guest bedroom. I found her HR, new hire paperwork from her company. They have a corporate compliance line and I called and left a detailed message. They (STBXW and AP) had discussed client information that also had protected health information with an unsecured, non-approved messaging system. I also informed them that she was his acting supervisor on 2 projects over a certain time that corresponds with the sexually inappropriate messages. Lastly I said that they both used their subsidized phones to transmit pornographic materials (Pics, sexting, videos.) That was a big no no as well.
My whole life, I have viewed myself as a peaceful and rational man. This has broken that part of me. I don't know where all of this anger has come from, I am somewhat worried. Like, will it stop. I know in the long run, to "Get over this" I will have to accept her apology and forgive her for her mistakes...I just don't know if I am capable, and it is worrying to me.
That evening I continued to notify family and friends of the situation and her actions. I called a physician friend and requested a favor for a checkup and an STD check. He had questions, I answered. My eyes got heavy around 8.
Sunday DDay+3: I decided to drive to see the girls. They are about 3 hours away. The youngest is still in college for another semester (maybe longer, thanks 2020.)
I have been having pretty extreme feelings about them since this began. I have formed a respectful, friendly relationship with them, but not much of a "Fatherly" one. The oldest especially. We are cordial, but, there is always that "Your NOT my dad" vibe between us. The youngest, not so much, but, when they are together, it gets more prevalent. I left early Sunday around 5 AM, arrived at their condo (Their father pays for it) just after 845. I had Kolaches and good coffee for them. They were immediately worried about their mother before I said anything. I told them point blank the situation and that their mother would probably be moving in the next 3 to 6 months. I can honestly say it was best to do and say this in person. I told them EVERYTHING. They were disappointed in her. I then told them that I wasn't there to get them to take a side, but, they were adults in a special circumstance within our relationship, and if they decided they didn't want to interact or have a relationship with me that was OK, I would be somewhat let down, but also relieved. I told them however, that our relationship or lack thereof should not interfere with their grandparents (My parents.) They both agreed that they would like to definitely keep in touch with the grandparents. I left there around 11 and headed home. I stopped at my best friends house and cried a little... I had essentially help to raise them as best I could. Their father was absentee most of their childhood and started another family 6 hours away. My best friend decided that I had drank enough the past 72 hours, and I needed to sleep. I crashed at his place that night. I had noticed STBXW had been blowing my phone up after I had left the girls place. Oh well, I was too tired and in too dark a place to care.
Monday DDay+4: I arrived home around 8 and noticed her Porsche was still there... I thought for a moment that she Uber'd or Waze'd to the airport. No, no she had not. She was up and had breakfast made, she asked me to sit down and eat with her. I did. She asked how it tasted, I told her like static. I told her I've had a hard time tasting and feeling anything other than bitterness and anger, for the past 5 days... She had called in "Sick" at work, and did not leave for her quarterly meeting. She tried to start talking about how worried she was for me and that she loved me so much. She had gotten a call from her oldest yesterday around noon and they were deeply disturbed by her behavior. I laughed... as I did it, I realized it was not a funny laugh. It had a manic kind of feel to it and took me aback. I said Oh, you "Love" me so much you have a year and a half affair behind my back. You "Love" me so much you fuck some other married man. You "Love" me so much you pissed away nearly half of my life because... She had never given me a reason as to why she did it. I told her that, and it made it so much worse. I went to the liquor service and pulled out "The Bottle."
---"The Bottle" was an 18 year Glenfiddich that my grandfather bought for "Us" when we got married. It has been/was our tradition to have a small sip on our anniversary night and remember that things get better with time and patience.---
I chugged the remainder of it. It was about a third of the bottle that was left. I said, sorry I didn't offer her any, because she did NOT deserve any. I went to the bedroom and began pulling all of the pictures off of the wall that had us or her in them. I placed them on the kitchen table. She had left. My attorney or rather her paralegal called to notify me the Petition for Divorce was ready, and I needed to sign off on it before it could be filed and STBXW would be served within 10 business days. I read it quickly, while VERY buzzed on premium Scotch. E-Signed and pressed send. I also got a message from the AP's wife. She reluctantly thanked me for this "Horrible but good revelation." She declined to speak with me, but wanted to message me to tell me. She found texts and videos with other women besides my STBXW. She kicked him out, and was going to an attorney soon. (They live in California, he's fucked.) I proceeded to listen to music and have a few more drinks. I fell asleep around 4 in the afternoon. I heard her come home around 10, she saw the pile of pictures and things that had at one time meant "Something" to "Us." She began sobbing and asking me to talk to her, I only asked one question "Why?" She kept saying she didn't know. I called her vile things and said that she made SO many decisions to get to just the first text. It was she that started it. I was pretty loose with my tounge due to being drunk. I laughed at her and started taking off my clothes and said you threw away this pointing to my body, (I'm going to get shit for it, but, I'm 6'4" and weigh 200#, up until last week I still jogged and lifted weights 4 times a week) for some pot bellied needle dick guy that wasn't going to do anything for her. I went to my room and had a shower. When I got out, she was in the bed naked. She had lit some candles and begged me to fuck her. I turned on my camera and told her to repeat what she said (I thank everyone who mentioned doing this, just in case) For whatever reason, my erection did not do a good job of convincing her that I didn't want to. So, I did it. I was NOT kind. I put her in uncomfortable positions and pounded her. I told her I wanted anal, and I wanted to hear her beg me for it. I recorded it ALL. I felt so many mixed emotions after. I love her, and I am indifferent to her, I hate her, and I think nothing of her. I want her and feel like I need her, but It hurts me to think of "Us" anymore. We fell asleep together. I woke up kind of hung over and had a hard time looking at myself in the mirror.
Tuesday DDay+5: Therapy was a 2 and a half hour session, unbeknownst to me, she followed me there and wanted to know what I was doing. I told her I was getting some therapy for the emotional trauma I had after realizing I had thrown away most of my life on someone who couldn't even give me a reason as to why she would cheat on me. I was a little loud and teary eyed. My soon to be new therapist saw most of the exchange. I called her horrible names and told her I wished her dead. Needless to say my session was intense. He prescribed some sedatives for me and I had another shorter appointment scheduled on Thursday. We discussed my anger and betrayal, my emasculation, my fear of the future. I explained I am terrified of the unknown. Last week I felt like a complete man. I had a vision and goals, I also had a partner to deal with any issues and obstacles. Now, I am a ship without a rudder, or mast. I feel no sense of direction, or power, or means to get away from this. He started explaining the "Why" that I wanted to know. It isn't a single question. It is a series of questions that is pretty interesting. I suppose you can apply it to any behavior that you want to explain the motivation behind it. He said instead I should calmly ask my STBXW, what within herself gave her permission to do this to me. There were several more to follow up with, but, this is what stuck out the most. I told him about the sex, he recommended that I lay out explicit ground rules regarding our physical relationship. He ultimately recommended that I don't do it anymore, it would confuse and exacerbate things tremendously, unless reconciliation was my goal. I cried, I raged. I left exhausted. STBXW was still outside waiting for me. I walked past her and didn't respond to her questions and pleading. I got a call from the physician's office to get tested and went to that appointment. I told him the short version. He recommended to stop drinking and take the sedatives cautiously. I went home and proceeded to continue removing my things from the house and boxing them up. I have decided I would move out. I called work and requested a face to face meeting. The thought of working, or concentrating on legitimate life and death issues is not possible in my current state of mind. I drove to the Administrative building at the hospital, met with the team and formally gave my 6 weeks resignation. I have such a niche, specialized job that 6 weeks is kind of a minimum courtesy. I put it succinctly that my STBXW's actions had caused a stressful home life, and I would be a detriment to patients, the team, and myself if I continued to remain in this area. I have decided to move away. Far away. I got home after picking up some groceries. It has been about a week since I have had more than a mouthful of food and have existed on liquor and not much else. I took both my therapists, and physician friends' advice and decided to make some food and stop drinking. She was home, sitting in the darkened living room drinking wine. She had organized the pictures and was looking through them. She had put on makeup and was wearing a "Date Night" dress. She had been crying alot. her makeup was in bad shape. She got up and tried to embrace me. I pushed her gently away and made a production of pulling out my phone and hitting record. She started crying again. She told me the AP's wife had called her and told her that he had had other women as well as her. She said that she was so much the fool and every derogatory name I had called her was right. She begged me to consider "Us." I said why bother, she didn't when she betrayed me. I told her I was sorry that her lies caught her out, but I felt that she was sorry she got caught, not remorseful for what she did to me. I told her I felt she was sorry that she was going to have to start over and that she was more upset about that, than losing any "Love" she had for me. I said that she abandoned her "Love" for me or "Us" 2 YEARS ago when she decided to do this. I kept piling it on her. I informed her of my call to the Corporate Compliance line and the specific rules she broke. I didn't raise my voice or act angry. I was shaking a bit, but it was like everything was leaving me in a rush. I felt elated and so low at the same time. I felt empty when I was done. I put up the few groceries I had bought and made a small sandwich, then went to bed. She was there again. I pulled out my phone and told her with the recorder going what my therapist had talked about in regards to sex. Keep in mind in 17 years, I can not recall a time when I've refused or declined sex from her. I asked her to leave and sleep in the guest bedroom. She refused. I said, fine, I would then.
Wednesday DDay+6: I woke up and she was curled up next to me. I removed myself and did some light exercises. I have been working on my resume and getting applications out. I might be working in Seattle by the end of the year! I love my parents and will miss being 20 minutes away from them, especially as they are becoming elderly. I can't stay in this city. The thought of "Running into" her after this is over is not something I want to entertain. I want to be free, and have NO reminders of my sense of loss and my lifetime of compromise. It was a pretty blah day and it rained off and on for most of it. I met up with my best friend and gave him a rundown over an early dinner. We decided not to drink. My attorney said that me moving away will not affect the outcome of the financials. I am going to live off my PTO until the end of October, and use my half of our liquid savings to relocate and settle. I feel empty and I am trying to laugh at his funny jokes, but it's an effort. I keep finding myself in a deep emptiness that has such a powerful pull. I have never thought about ending my own life, but for the past few days/nights I've had "Daydreams'' of what it would be like if I wasn't here. I am going to tell my therapist tomorrow. STBXW has been going to the library (I've been watching through Google) and reading relationship books. I have been reading Chump Lady. It is great stuff. She got a call from her work. I eavesdropped on a small portion of it, but I know she has a meeting tomorrow, despite her claiming to be "Sick." She was in bed again just like the past few nights. I am so conflicted, I just want to feel something, but I feel so little but hate and resentment for her, that the only sex I want is sadistic. I'll admit that during the abusive sex we had Monday I felt almost a runners high, but, there was a crash, and the next day I was angry at myself. I am doubting myself a small amount in regards to not wanting her back. I know she fucked up huge, but I don't know if I can forget it, or forgive it. I am a tangled mess. I told her the ground rules, with my phone recording, in regard to sex. I told her that it did NOT indicate reconciliation, or some covert signal that I wanted that. I told her this is probably hysterical bonding and not healthy. I told her that I was going to not be gentle nor care about her feelings or needs during it. She was teary eyed, and nodded understanding. She quietly said that she "Deserved it." She then rolled over and got on all 4's.
Thursday DDay+7: I woke up with her spooning me. I laid there for a while and heard her breathing change pattern. I could feel her looking at me. I asked with my back turned what her meeting was going to be about? She said it was an HR representitive and it was probably going to be bad. I said yup. She asked what she could do to make us right or equal again. I said nothing. She offered an open marriage on my end, she would not persue anyone, but I could. I chuckled, no. I don't trust her. She said that was fair. We had this conversation with my back to her, it was easier than looking at her. I get mad when I see her face. I asked what I did in this marriage that made her so unhappy she did this. She said I was beyond great. I chuckled again, well obviously that dosent matter. She said it was an adventure, like she lived off of the rush, she didn't realize until it was way too late that if she got caught or if something went wrong everyone would be hurt, she said it was a huge relief and an unforgettable pain when I confronted her. I got up and made us breakfast. I went to my therapist and told him my plan with work and already had responses to my applications. I told him everything about STBXW and the sex. We discussed my suicdal thoughts and talked about the process invlved with them. Again, he wasn't judging; he just wanted me to not get confused, or if I did not understand to stop and process. It was only a 1 hour (55 minute) session and I felt that weird calm again. Like nothing matters for now. everything just is. When I got home she was sitting in the living room. She told me that she was fired for breach of protocol with client information and violation of the data security protocols. I said, well that's too bad. I exercised and made a nice dinner, she joined me. We did'nt say much. While we were sitting in the living room she told me that AP had been fired as well. I said good. She told me she has had no contact with him in 5 days. I asked why not? They were both free now. She could fly out to her "Soul Mate" and have all the fun they wanted now. She said I was the only one she wanted. I said NO, you had me ALL of me, and it still was'nt enough. I told her that in the nearly 20 years of work, and our relationship, I had been approached and hit on too many times to count. I managed to not fall in love or fuck anyone else, now, I am so bitter and angry because of the compromises I made. She asked what compromises. I told her. My wanting to go to medical school, but decided to get married and be stable, my not wanting children, but, because they were a part of her, I accepted them and compromised. I said I made those compromises for our love. But, obviously I had misplaced my trust and love in her. I told her that if I could go back in time, I would tell 26 year old me to pass her up. She asked again what she could do to bring us back together. I told her that I will not EVER compromise for her again and that means we really can't have a healthy relationship. I told her I would NEVER love her again, and that at best, I would treat her like a sex toy. Otherwise, she would'nt factor into my plans or thoughts. I told her it was just a week ago, she was the first person I thought of when I woke up, and the last person I thought about when I went to sleep. Now it hurts too much to think about her.
I am going to walk away from this. I feel like it is starting to constantly remind me of things. I can not thank those kind people I could chat with and who shared their pain and stories that have helped me. This has been on a whole, a good thing for me to do, but I keep replaying things and feelings I'd rather just walk away from. I remain confused about what I want. I don't know if I will ever be 100% about anything with Her ever again. I have bi-weekly appointments for the next 4 weeks with my therapist.
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2020.09.17 09:22 MansA17Sep1l Real caught on camera sex

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2020.09.17 01:41 TheEggplantEconomist Real caught on camera sex

Joel struggled to find the right words.
He’d written so much so often lately that it had become difficult not to describe his thoughts but to piece together sentences that differentiated them from one another.
“Incompetent,” he typed, then paused.
No, scratch that, he thought. Delete, delete, delete.
“Negligent,” came out through the flurry of clicks.
Too easy to rebut, he thought.
“Malignant and diseased,” he typed as a sneer crossed his face and tears spilled over his lip and into his mouth.
He’d found the perfect words with the perfect weight.
He hit the enter key and felt a wave of exhilaration that made his face flush.
Just two months and more than a hundred thousand words ago, Joel decided he’d had enough of his mother, his boss and what felt like a million others walking across his back each day. Any man with an ounce of pride would never have taken the abuse so long, which meant there was no reason to take it a day longer, Joel thought as he stared at his paunchy reflection in a mirror spotted with flecks of toothpaste.
“I will build my own empire. Today,” he whispered through gritted teeth then wiped away the evidence of his sobbing and put in eye drops hoping to avoid tipping off his mother that he’d been crying again.
But the groundbreaking had to wait. Eight or nine hours, at least. Mr. Figginbottom promised Joel he’d be fired if he called out again and Joel was sure the octogenarian wasn’t lying this time. His boss’s 50-something nephew had recently moved back to town, surely after being kicked out of his own mother’s house after yet another failed stint at a rehab, and Mr. Figginbottom was looking for any excuse to give away Joel’s gig. And while no man ever became rich selling pool supplies for a man who couldn’t even become rich owning a small chain of pool supply stores, Joel needed at least one more paycheck to cover his own startup expenses.
The windfall came sooner than expected, though. Joel had barely clocked in when the phone at the front desk rang. INTERNAL, it said.
“Checkout, this is Joel,” he answered.
“Joel, this is Figs. Can you come back and see Linda in my office?”
“It’s a little busy up here, actually. There’s a woman who was asking Roger for help with chlorine tablets and as soon as she asked, two more people walked in …”
“Joel, I want to make clear that I wasn’t asking a question, I was giving an order,” the man on the line said.
A long silence took hold before Mr. Figginbottom tired of waiting.
“Joel, I said …”
“Yessir, be right back,” Joel said and slammed down the receiver.
Joel was surprised to see Mr. Figginbottom in the office.
“I thought Linda was supposed to be here,” Joel said from the doorway, still holding the knob.
“She’s right there,” Mr. Figginbottom said, pointing to a blonde woman holding a clipboard sitting on the small sofa hidden behind the door.
“Hi, Joel,” she said warmly as she leaned into view.
“Son, sit down,” Mr. Figginbottom said.
Joel had no idea what this could be about but he wondered if it wasn’t his opportunity to preemptively quit. To tell Mr. Figginbottom this was the worst job he had ever had working for the biggest idiot he had ever met who owned the worst company in the world.
“Joel, we saw the tape,” Mr. Figginbottom said. “I’ll be honest, I’m half tempted to beat you myself first but Linda here says that’s not going to look good for my insurance rates, so I’m just going to tell you to get out of here right now.”
Joel was stuck on the part about the tape when he realized there was more to process.
“Joel, actually, there are some papers we have to go over,” Linda said as she began pulling some documents from beneath the clipboard’s hinge. Mr. Figginbottom cocked his head, a little perturbed the office manager’s politeness had sucked the vinegar out of the rant he was building up to.
“Wait, what tape?” Joel asked.
Mr. Figginbottom looked at Linda, who turned back to Joel and opened her mouth to speak before being cut off.
“Joel, there’s a security camera in the back of the building,” Mr. Figginbottom said as he leaned across the desk, face reddening as the position pulled his shirt taught and made the rolls of fat hang out over his collar more than usual. “We started getting complaints from the closer that someone was blowing mud behind the dumpster. We looked at the camera, and by God, if that wasn’t you, Joel.”
That much was true. Joel had always hated going to the bathroom at work. Or rather, he hated going to the bathroom in the bathroom at work. It was a single-stall, unisex bathroom the employees shared with customers. It was usually clean enough — Joel often had to take care of that himself — but it was a cacophonous tile room that sent reverberations of even the gentlest tinkle throughout the store. There was a smaller but better-insulated facility in the back room but that was reserved solely for Mr. Figginbottom, who had “the I.B. syndrome,” as he’d often say unburdened with the shame Joel carried for such talk. The way Joel saw it, he had no other choice but to go behind the dumpster.
“Son, are you even listening?” Mr. Figginbottom asked as he pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of his plaid western shirt and wiped the beading sweat off his bald head.
Mr. Figginbottom leaned back in the chair again and swallowed hard, covering his mouth.
“I’m nauseous right now thinking about that video, you …”
“Fig,” Linda interrupted, “we talked about the paperwork for Joel? Remember the paperwork?”
The rest was a bit of a blur. Crying now for the second time in an hour, Joel nodded along as Linda told him about how he could sign up for COBRA Health Insurance and how he’d have 10 days to return all three of his work shirts, properly washed and pressed, please.
“And you’ve accrued 32 vacation hours that we’ll be paying you out for today along with the rest of your scheduled hours for this week,” Linda said as she handed him a check in exchange for the clipboard full of documents he’d been signing.
It was 9:25 a.m. Monday and Joel held $388 in his hands. The tears started to dry as he realized this was his seed money. Mr. Figginbottom had inadvertently become an angel investor.
Thirty minutes later, Joel was a new man. He paid his mother $300 for two months’ rent in advance and he was a free man for the next 60 days. Nothing could get in the way of his empire now.
First, though, Joel needed to get something off his chest. He pulled out his laptop and signed in to a Facebook account under the name Colby Stimpson, a chiseled man with perfect hair whose stock photos Joel stole for an account he used to stalk all the girls he knew a decade ago high school who wouldn’t accept a friend request from his real account.
“If I could give Fig’s Pools no stars, I would,” Joel typed into the review field as Colby Stimpson. “It is run by a fat and old man who loves having power over everyone for no reason other than he has the IB syndrome … aka DIHARREA! He also loves his employee Linda so much he has sex with her at work without his wife. I suggest you try a different pool company that cares for its customers because this is a no star place with an owner who could drop dead and anyone could care less!”
Joel slept as well as he had in months that night and awoke at 2 p.m. thanks to the blackout curtains he bought the afternoon before. It was an investment in himself, he thought as he watched his newfound nest egg dip to about $50.
He rolled over and picked up his phone to open /hentai but saw a stack of text message alerts on his lock screen, all from Roger at the pool store.
“Can’t believe it. So crazy!” the latest message read. “I guess it happened last night when he got home,” another read as the story unraveled in reverse as Joel scrolled to the top of the text chain.
“Figs is DEAD!” the first message said.
“LOL,” Joel replied, following up with a laughing emoji.
The next few days were a mix of emotions for Joel. He had intended to spend them building an empire of some kind — maybe an app company or a place that sold graphic novels and adult novelties, he thought — but instead found himself watching anime and wondering whether it was right to feel so vindicated by Mr. Figginbottom’s death. Confused by his own emotions, he left the house for the first time since being fired and walked the two blocks to the Stop-N-Shop.
He filled up the handbasket with a dozen Little Debbie snack cakes and as many Rockstar energy drinks before throwing a one-pound back of pretzels on top of it all.
“Forty-six eighty-eight,” the man at the counter said after scanning it all.
It seemed like a lot of money for groceries but it was enough to let Joel avoid leaving the house again for a least three or four days.
The card reader let out a flat honk. “Declined,” the man behind the counter said.
“Let me try it again,” Joel said.
“Do you have another way to pay?” the man asked Joel.
“No, but there’s at least $50 in the account,” he said.
“It’s declined. Do you have cash?”
“No, but there’s money in there.”
“Then you’ll have to go to the bank to get your cash out,” the man said, pulling the handbasket across the counter to his side.
“If there was negative stars this place would get them all,” Colby Stimpson’s review read. “They won’t do business with their best shoppers and it means they will LOOSE THEM ALL! Bad customer service = never shopping there again because of the experience. Totally negligent and discrimination from the clarks with no respect. I wouldn’t give a rip if this place burned down tomorrow. Shop at a better place who cares about customers such as Murphy’s.”
Joel’s hunger strike didn’t last long. He woke up the next morning with an empty stomach and a headache so bad he winced. He needed sugar and caffeine. He put on his Crocs, pulled $5 in quarters from the old coffee tin his mother used to collect coins and started his trek to the Stop-N-Shop. He had barely turned the first corner when he saw the black smoke rising from the other side of the strip mall. He picked up his pace excited at the prospect of seeing something burning down and turned the last corner wheezing from the brisk walk to find a few beams and a row of gas pumps covered in ash where the Stop-N-Shop was a day earlier.
The fire must have started hours ago because only one fire truck remained and its sirens weren’t even on. How the sound didn’t wake him up just two blocks away was a mystery but the store caught fire sometime during the night and there was nothing but rubble left.
Joel was dismayed by his first thought. “I’ll have to walk another six blocks to the next store.”
His second thought put him in a better mood: “I did this.”
Joel spent the rest of the afternoon pacing his room taking mental note of everyone and every company that had ever wronged him, no matter how minor a slight.
“I wish there were zero stars instead of one star but it’s thanks to everyone gets a trophy in this society,” read Colby Stimpson’s screed on the Old Navy Facebook page. “The employees at this particular location are very judgemental and have no interest in finding what is the truth from lying customers. They have a changing room that is just a curtain and if you are man and are shopping there and have to try on clothes you can’t knock on a curtain. And when you open it and there’s a girl in there the employees at this location will say the cops are coming even though you followed all their own rules. I hope they all get laid off for being INCOMPETENT!”
Joel stayed up for hours on end posting in an almost fugue state. Long-forgotten memories came flooding back.
A Hormel Chili can that had some kind of root vegetable in it. “Can you say health codes? What is going on in that factory?”
A grocery store that was always out of his favorite pasta sauce. “Disappointing to say the least. This store needs to be shut down ASTAT!”
A Target whose manager once refused to let him return a package of briefs that were too small. “This store is a scam! How would you even know if they fit if you can’t try them on but then you can’t return them once you put them on? The BBB needs to investigate this illegitimate business.”
In the weeks that followed came a reign of terror. Inspectors shut down canneries for unsanitary conditions. Shopping malls closed, taking out all of their tenants at once. Stock prices dropped and stores were closed after bad earnings calls.
From his fingertips to God’s ears.
As time went on, Joel realized it was easier than he first realized. He hardly had to mention a slight or even why he was offering a one-star rating. Just posting an inane comment in the reviews was enough to cause some damage.
“This hammer looks weak and dumb. One star crap,” Colby Stimpson’s review read. A week later, a pallet of ball-peen hammers crushed a warehouse worker at an Amazon fulfillment center 1,200 miles away.
The allure of this new power kept Joel so occupied that he rarely left his room. He barely had time to eat between screeds and he had lost almost 20 pounds in a month. He had only seen his mother twice in that time, so he hadn’t noticed she, too, was quickly losing weight until she collapsed in the shower.
Joel’s fingers tapped on his knees, as much a nervous tick as a habit now as he sat next to his mother’s hospital bed. There were machines and tubes keeping her stable but the doctor warned him they were a temporary fix at best. Days, maybe hours, were all she had left.
Joel awoke the next morning to a nurse sitting next to him in the waiting room her a hand on his arm.
“Are you Mr. J. Porter? Annie’s son?” she asked as Joel sat up and nodded. “I’m sorry, sir, but your mother has passed.”
Joel spent the next two hours walking home to clear his mind and subconsciously avoiding his destination by taking the long way through a park. He sat at a picnic table for a moment and felt the tears cut chilly trails down his face in the crisp fall air. Phone in hand, he opened Facebook and searched for the hospital’s page.
“I wish I could surgically remove stars from the ratings because the doctors and employees here are MALIGNANT AND DISEASED and all their tools look more like they are from 1819 not 2019,” read Colby Stimpson’s review. “This place is so filthy I would not be surprised if they cause a new plague.”
submitted by TheEggplantEconomist to shortstories [link] [comments]

2020.09.11 17:35 vomirrhea Real caught on camera sex

The first half of the movie, I admit, I was wondering what the fuss was about. The girls were wearing crop tops and dancing but nothing seemed weird or creepy about it. The main character is obviously that quiet religious girl who is hanging around trying to get in with the popular group, and its the stylish clothes and dancing that makes the popular girls cool in our main characters eyes. Nothing to weird there..
Somewhere around half way through the movie my stomach turned sick as i watched scene after scene degenerate into disturbing displays of "what the actual fuck!?!" Here's the highlight reel:
-The main character gains acceptance into the popular girl group by introducing a much more sexualized dance routine to the other girls, making her feel like a hero at this point in the movie, and confirming her actions with a positive reward.
-the group of girls are constantly seeking attention and getting compliments from older boys in the film which is always followed with a fun and excited feeling to the scene
-the girls get caught sneaking into a lazer tag game and they get in trouble with the security guards until the main character twerks for the the two older men who are leering at her in the scene and they decide to let the girls leave. This is celebrated by the group of girls
-there are two different scenes with fights between girls in the movie, both leading to revealing their undergarments. In the second fight, our main character's childish underwear is revealed, prompting the group of girls to go shopping for lingerie to make her feel better
-there is an extremely disturbing scene in the movie that still makes absolutely no sense and was just sick to watch WARNING this is a graphic description but I'm just trying to relay some scenes from the movie for the better understanding of discussing what is wrong with this film; the main character is caught by her cousin (a grown man) with his stolen phone. She then proceeds to slowly start undressing (offering him sex) at which point he shoves her and she runs and locks herself in the bathroom with his phone. She then proceeds to take a picture of her genitals with his phone, upload it to the cloud, before throwing it out the door and giving it back to him.
Now lets talk about HOW some of the scenes were filmed. After the main character introduces the new sexualized routine to her friends, the film follows with many long rehearsals where the girls practice. These scenes are immediately different from the fist few dance scenes in the beginning of the movie. You can tell in the way that they chose their camera angles. It took me a minute to catch on. All of a sudden you are getting these extreme zoomed in shots in slow motion. I started mentally trying to keep track of how many times the cameras panned to the buttocks/groin area and I quicky lost track. These scenes are all completely filmed like an adult hip hop music video and the girls are acting the part. It almost starts to seem at one point that the camera is literally spending the majority of the time zoomed in on their buttocks than their faces or whole body. And this ABSOLUTELY feels uncomfortable and out of place, and is not necessary at all to communicate the plot in the film as the plot is trying to portray a sense of friendship and belonging for our main character in her new group. I cant understand the reasoning behind stylizing these scenes in this way, outside of the purposeful sexualization of these actresses and characters.
Well, that's my take on what I just watched. Fuck that movie, as a woman Im sitting here feeling sick to my stomach. There should be no misconceptions that this is a "coming of age" or "anti-sexualizing girls" kind of film. I just watched it and i feel like I'm going to need eyebleach for the rest of the week. Boycott this film. Protest this film. And tell anyone who is defending it that they are defending pedophiles.
EDIT: I missed explaining exactly the tone, or the feeling of this movie. It kind of feels like an underdog-gains-love-and-acceptance-through-a sport-or-club type movie. Also the ending has no real revelation for our main character, or lesson learned. The movie just kind of abruptly and pointlessly ends with her rejecting her friends and then rejecting her family's important event and the last scene is her randomly playing jump rope. I didn't feel that it defined closure or gave moral to the whole story. So how can it be seen by as "empowering"?
EDIT #2: if anyone is going to argue on the side that this is a "coming of age" type movie and people like me just "dont get it" I AM SUPPOSED TO BE THE TARGET AUDIENCE. I am an adult, center-left, progressive thinking female. That is how i see myself, and if this film was what some people are saying it is i am supposed to be EXACTLY the kind of person to love the concept. THIS MOVIE IS AN ABOMINATION! Other women and mothers on this thread are voicing the same feelings. Because the truth underneath it is that we aren't the target audience at all, are we? This movie was made by pedos for other pedos, and to normalize young girls portrayed in a sexual manner. That is what it is.
Save The Children
submitted by vomirrhea to conspiracy [link] [comments]

2020.09.09 21:35 borednightnurse1990 Week 1, Day 2: Payback is best served with a TKO.

I know i promised in Day 1 Week 1 to post some short stories and cap it with one big story of epic proportions. But ever since i said that, i couldnt get the “big one” out of my mind. giggity
Maybe its because of how much of it was “could you believe this shit?” material. Its a story thats still going on and has been for 2 years now.
Advance warning: if you somehow dont agree with me as a person, or my story, try to voice your disagreement in a civil manner. If you can’t, just stick to PMs or keep it to yourself. Dont blast it in the comments section. This is a nice community.
No TLDRs, if you have the time to be on Reddit, you have the time to read this. Zero apologies for grammar or spelling mistakes either. Heard you can keep them and combine them with spelling/grammar mistakes from other posts, and eventually you can have a ball of grammar and spelling mistakes that you can keep as a pet and will keep you warm at night.
I am a mixed race woman: half white, half mixed asian, (redacted) years old. I am also what hard core old schoolers would call, a sinner. Yeah. Been living in sin with a partner i married in Las Vegas, USA some years ago. If that doesnt make your standard issue hypocrite cringe, we are also both active duty members of our country’s military. I work in a combat arms unit, and she drives a fighter plane for a living. Yeah, so just your basic, standard issue “baby killing lezzies”. Actual words thrown at us before.
Once we got our permanent duty assignment, we decided to buy a property together. We bought into this nice semi gated community close to the base thats populated by about 95% active duty or retired military. We were welcomed warmly into the community, except for our immediate neighbour to the left.
We’ll call them Kevin and Karen. (Very original). They were about 50 years of age, have 2 kids away in university and 1 kid who flunked his ABC’s living with them in his late 20’s.
Kevin is active duty as an Air Force officer. I believe he’s a tech of some sort. Aren’t all Air Force dudes a tech of some kind? And Karen is a “professional influencer” who deals in MLM, fitness and travel stuff.
The fact that they have problems with us as their neighbours was evident from the beginning. Here’s the indicators of no particular order:
-our realtor and HOA organized a welcome party for us at the country club with welcome gifts and cards. The card is massive with welcome messages from everyone. Kevin and Karen just signed theirs with: “Welcome! Kevin and Karen”. They were also notably absent, with everyone else who was absent having a valid excuse.
-within our first month of living in our new home, we were immediately bombarded with complaints from the HOA. Since our immediate neighbours were: Kevin and Karen to the south, an empty lot to the north, a small wooded area behind our houses, and people across the street we quickly became friends with, its obvious to see where the complaints were coming from. We were told were exposing the kids in the neighbourhood to indecency and even nudity. (This is about me and the partner going for runs in the weekend. Our standard running attire is pretty normal, sports bra covered by a tank top, and shorts or yoga pants. We took this one pretty hard since even facing accusations of child molestation/exposure is a serious career ender). We were told we were clogging up the streets with illegally parked cars. (Its about that one time i quickly drove home to grab the lunch i forgot, and i was in a rush to park properly, in front of my own property). We were told we were neglecting our part in maintaining our home, driving down property values in our neighbourhood. (This one i have no idea). We were told that we were stinking up the neighbourhood with bad smells. (That one time i went outside to use the grill and cook a smoked fish i picked up from an Asian store.) We were told we play our music too loud and its bothering people. (Okay, ill give this a shot that we may be at fault for this one because of a couple of times where we hosted a weekend party). Its all a lot of small stuff too much to mention, but its obvious that someone has a problem with us.
-They also filed a separate report for “indecent exposure” with the cops. Source of the complaint? Milena and I were having some fun, healthy grown up times that probably went a bit too loud at some point, and i ran into the kitchen to grab a glass of water while still in my birthday suit. That brief 10 second period where i happened to be in view through the open kitchen windows, AT 1 IN THE MORNING, is apparently enough to line us up right there with sex offenders.
I did a bit more analysis over this after the cops left. If were considering that our walls are paper thin, which it isnt. I’ve had times where Milena is playing Warzone at full volume in the den and you couldn’t hear anything from two rooms over, let alone from outside the house. But lets say that maybe we were actually that loud. My kitchen window at the time only had one window that was open and uncovered. This is a window that faces K&K’s house. Between their fencing and fruit trees, the only way you could see into my kitchen from that window is if you’re viewing it from a second story vantage point. The second story of their house has NO windows facing any of my kitchen windows. ZERO. So that means that one, or both of them, by some miraculous reason, heard and got awakened by the fun times going on, stepped out of their house and somehow peeked into our house either through or over their fence.
And finally, the dog. I have a 7 year old Husky-Lab mix. He has been fully trained by an actual professional school to be a therapy dog. He is trained not to bark under any circumstances except for the emergencies he is trained to respond to (fire, me or my partner being rendered unconscious). So its a surprise when the complaints against us started to include my dog and his “excessive barking”. And then it escalated to his “unattended droppings”. And then how he looks like a “threatening breed”. Keep in mind that this dog and his breed has been cleared by our HOA. And even if they didnt, they can go kick rocks since he’s a registered therapy dog used for a legit medical reason.
We willingly offerred the HOA to submit to them all copies of our outside camera’s feeds for a month to see if there’s a pattern of un neighbourly conduct we might be doing and not aware of. The HOA is pretty happy with our proposed solution and took us up on our offer. We didnt change anything with our lifestyle and after a month, they were happy with what they saw and concluded the complaints against us are baseless. This is also when the person from HOA let slip that ALL the complaints came from ONE residence where their owners are known for being “squeaky wheels, that need a lot of greasing to keep happy”.
Well, someone has a grudge against us and we dont know what we did wrong against them. It eventually escalated with the culprits outing themselves.
This all came to a head sometime in April 2019 when I was mowing our backyard and doing some spring house maintenance. I looked across the fence and noticed that ALL of K&K’s backyard camera’s were pointed at OUR yard. I thought it was odd so i asked Kevin about that when he stepped outside to have a cigarette. I was immediately met with shouting and curses.
“Its my cameras! Ill point it wherever i want! And right now, i want evidence that you’re intentionally luring wildlife destroying my yard! And put some fucking clothes on!”
I was puzzled about that and asked him what he meant. He kept shouting and through his raving, i came to the conclusion that he had a problem with my birdfeeder. Now, i cleared this bird feeder with the HOA. They approved this. This feeder was built in a way, that ONLY birds can access it. Squirrels maybe, but we dont have any of those in our area. There’s not a lot of wildlife populating that small wooded area behind us. So there’s no way that something big enough will be attracted and have access to my bird feeder and destroy anyone’s property. Its not like we live in a place where wildlife - human interaction is a problem. Besides, what property was he talking about being destroyed by this non existent wild animals? He has a rock garden and a couple of fruit trees in his completely fenced up yard.
He ended his rant with the threat that if he sees any one single animal in his yard that was there because of my feeder, he’ll come over to my house, destroy my feeder, and destroy anything else he wants just to see how i like it. Or if he sees my dog anywhere near his property, he will call Animal Control to take him away, and if my dog continues to be a “threat” to him, he’ll shoot him regardless of whether AC is on the way or not.
After over a month of this irritation + this confrontation with him, i decided that i wont be a prisoner in my own home anymore because of the whims of one man. I sent my own complaints to the HOA telling them about this interaction that ended with a threat to my safety and my property, and the improper behaviour of my neighbour. I was told that if it qualifies as an HOA issue, they cant mediate in “he said-she said” scenarios without proper evidence or witnesses. But, since it sounds more like a safety and well being issue, it sounds more like something the police should be involved in. But they wouldn’t be able to do anything except file a first complaint unless something physically happens/happened to us.
Well, isnt that just amazing? For the following months, my hands were tied and there’s nothing i can do but file a complaint or file a response to a complaint filed against me at the HOA. Even the HOA people, who thrive on drama like this, were getting tired of it. I got to make friends with a lot of my neighbours during these months, attending community events, and got the picture that K&K were bullies. Theyve always managed to strong arm people, and they seem to pick on people who are just “different”. Either people of colour, different beliefs, someone they think is inferior to Kevin’s status as an AF officer, or, i dont know, maybe someone they just dont like.
One of those guys i had the chance to chat with told me (paraphrasing): “Look. I dont know why is it that K&K like to pick on people who are obviously different when they’re obviously different themselves. Maybe, they like being big fish in a small pond? But, look at it this way, if i like to target “different” people because of the way they are, then you and Milena (my partner’s middle name) are obviously going to be the crown jewels in my collection. You both are uniform wearing, card carrying open and unashamed lesbians, and in your case, a person of quite a petite stature who is also of mixed ethnicity. If i attended a KKK sponsored bingo night in Alabama, your guys’ description would give me a blackout win. You’re with (my unit) right? You’re giving them a bad reputation by eating this guys’ incoming more than you have to. I think its time for you return fire and destroy this POG.”
I was still at a loss as to how to process this message and then something clicked. Its already approaching Christmas and the active/retired gunfighters in my neigbourhood likes to host a “King of the Cage” charity fight. This is a big deal for our neighbourhood and our base, with caterers being hired by the HOA and medics volunteering for this fight being excempted from all duties by their chain.
This is how it goes: MMA fight rules and equipment + King of the Hill rules. No weight classes, MMA rules + referees, and you have to sign a waiver. King of the Hill rules is you have to win 2 out of 3 fights to advance to the next heat, until the semi finals when 1 loss will get you out of the running regardless. You go from one fight to the next and the only time you get to rest is if you get to the semi finals.
This is organized by my neighbourhood’s HOA, but has gotten so popular over the years and spilled into the base personnel because of the sheer amount of officers and active duty personnel living here. Everyone pays a fee to get their name in the fight, the pot is matched pound for pound by the HOA fund and (unofficial) senior NCO and officer’s fund, 25% of the proceeds goes to the winner, and the remaining goes to whichever charity is being hosted at the time. Everyone who is active duty both in the neighbourhood and people working at the base is “encouraged” to sign up. Heavy emphasis on the “encouragement” for both occifers and senior personnel. You better have a good reason for declining to fight since this is the one time where troops have a good chance of punching you in the face with no repercussions. And punching someone more senior than you in the face is always good for morale, and gives troops the impression that their leaders are still grounded and human like they are. Partner and I sign up once they announced they are now taking names.
Both my partner and i have good backgrounds when it comes to fighting and martial arts (in the ring and real life). Milena regularly does boxing drills as part of physical training, and has been fighting in karate and tae-kwon-do tournaments since grade school. Im the more proficient one when it comes fighting. Some people metaphorically give their kid at birth soccer balls, or a basketball, or whatever it is that they want to impart to their kids as a lifelong skill. Im only exaggerating when i swear that my dad gave me emei daggers when i was born. I have a strong background and training in muay thai, krav maga, bjj, kali/eskrima, and wushu (specialized in sword and dagger routines). Ive been competing in wushu and kali tournaments since i was 10, bjj/grappling since high school, and continues to compete in kali and bjj up to now. Ive also used krav maga and kali drills in work related fights and routinely use it when were doing MMA sports days at work. So, despite my deceptively petite stature, i can handle a LOT. Pun intended. Get over it. 😘
Anyway, with a little bit of finagling, i was able to convince several key fighters to let Kevin win their bouts. Kevin is pretty good from what i can tell, although hes more of a stand up fighter instead of a submission/ground and pound fighter. He just basically overwhelms people with his size and weight. Whenever he is down on the ground, he can easily strong arm people into submission. He’s about 6’5 against my 5’5 if im thinking tall thoughts. He weighs around maybe 250 lbs, against my 160 lbs soaking wet. Im pretty much physically half the person that he is. Lol. I can already tell that no amount of skill, training or wishful thinking in the world will let me win over someone who can easily overwhelm me with their innate weight and size. I face him for the first time in the last couple of matches before the semi finals, with several wins already under both of our names. The semi finals bracket is composed of 4 fighters and 1 random semi finalist whos been eliminated but won the selection fights, with the top 2 advancing to the finals cage.
So i huddled with Milena and came up with a plan that heavily revolves around exploiting the selection fight. This “selection” fight will still be MMA rules and refereee and have the additional risk of bare knuckles and fighters’ choice of sparring weapons. (Padded kali sticks, blunt knives and swords, padded shinai (kendo) swords, shock knives, and pugil sticks.) This risk is offset by “protective padding”, but anyone whos ever sparred at anything can attest to how they only minimize the hurt. It still hurts. People who have been knocked out earlier in the process can “buy” into the selection fight twice and get another shot at being the fight night champion. People who have been knocked out from the semis can only buy in once. The buy in is twice the registration fee. The selection fight mat is “live” for as long as there fighters fighting on it, and as long as there’s still fighters qualified and willing to buy in. The selection fight will be closed for business once the final matches start. I think theres some other rules and conditions im forgetting to mention.
The shock knives were a popular choice and had to have batteries swapped out a few times. People were just having the time of their lives shock knifing colleagues and even bosses. My favorite is when a mat had to be taken out of commission for cleaning and disinfecting. Some grunt shock knifed his buddy, and then drove a knee onto his gut. Buddy reacted the way most human bodies do when under stress: he vacated his bowels. Yup. He pooped himself. Poor guy. Bet you he’s gonna have fun with his new call sign.
The time came when i had to fight Kevin. I have yet to lose a fight while Kevin is 1 and 1. One more loss and he’s out. As soon as the ref said: “Fight!” I immediately knelt and tapped on the mat. I just threw away my first fight against Kevin. I went against another fighter and won that one, and then tapped myself out again when i had to face Kevin one more. He didnt say anything to me but the looks he was throwing me while almost sneering were enough to tell me that if there arent any witnesses, he would have been jumping down my throat with insults.
I went to the selection fight mat and bought myself back in. There was some other people in line and i quickly won against the ones i was matched with. If anyone is still reading to this point and counting, i now stand as King/Queen of the Hill, with the chance to be the dark horse fighter in the finals unless someone goes against me, and with one more buy in left if i get knocked out in the semi finals fight.
And wouldnt you know it, Kevin got a thrashing in that one last fight before the semis. He bought himself back in and is now facing me on the mat. His weapon of choice was the pugil stick. I swapped out the shock knife ive been using to a pair of kali sticks. We were both padded up with our heads, upper body, and shins covered with padding + a groin protector.
Ladies and germs, if youre still reading, let me tell you that this was the fight of my life. Ive done my share of both real life and training session fighting, but this one was the one fight that i will never forget. Its because i was facing someone that has been tormenting me, because of who i am as a person, non stop for months.
He quickly charged at me as soon as the ref blew the whistle. But since he is padded up, hes just a bit slower and clumsier. Exactly how i need him to be. I deflected his pugil stick with my kali sticks. I was able to disarm him with a quick parry —> wrist strike —> disarming twist. Before the ref can blow his whistle, i smacked him on the head with a stick, dropped my sticks, and did a single leg takedown. I made sure to land on him with my entire body weight and my elbow planted on his belly. We are now both unarmed and has transitioned to grappling. Still stunned from the blow to the head, he was simply offering weak resistance. Before he could recover, i secured my full mount on him, snuck in a few hammer fists to the unprotected part of his face, and locked in a textbook American lock. I was cranking that bitch hard until the ref stopped the fight with me staying on as K/QOTH.
I moved on to the semi finals while he bought himself back in. Before you know it, we were up against each other again in the semis and i outed myself again by tapping on the mat. I quickly regained K/QOTH status and am facing him again after he got ground and pounded to submission. This time, he picked the shock knife and i stuck to my kali sticks.
He is a lot more wary this time after i caught him unawares in our first time fight. We spent a couple minutes jabbing and striking to test each other’s defenses. Finally, i caught an opening. He tried to stab at me with the shock knife. I dropped my left stick while sidestepping him, caught his knife hand with my left hand, digging my fingers into his tendons, and while still holding my remaining stick, i hit him with a straight jab to the face, and ended the action by jabbing downwards at the wrist i was holding with the butt of my stick. This caused his wrist to go limp and drop the knife. I have now disarmed him, again. I dropped the remaining stick and while still clutching his now limp right hand against my chest, hammer fisted his right shoulder at the joint, hit him a back fist on his neck, (i believe i hit, or came close to hitting his carotid artery), and followed up with an enpty handed palm strike to his nose. Ever felt ligaments crunching? Feels gross. Sounds even grosser. I broke his nose and knocked him out cold. He’s down and done. TKO is announced and i move on to the finals.
He’s now been medically DQ’ed by the refs and medics attending. Since there’s no more fighters qualified or willing to buy in, i automatically advanced to the last couple semi finals fights. The rest of the night was a blur. I was gassed out by the time i qualified for the finals and got easily submitted with a kimura. To be fair, im not even mad i got so far into a US$25,000 competition only to get knocked out at 3rd place. Im not even mad about the black eyes or sore back or all the bruises.
Because of the payback.
This is sweet, sweet fuckery revenge for me. This son of a motherless whore has been tormenting me and my partner for months, casting a dark cloud in a what should have been a sweet moment for me and my partner both coming off of extended deployments and finally getting some down time together and finally getting to enjoy being homeowners. He has also been bad mouthing(?) us with our neighbours as we later learned. And for payback, i got to make him my bitch, twice.
Part 2 coming up. The title would be: “You f***ing people!” and involves Karen a lot more.
submitted by borednightnurse1990 to FuckeryUniveristy [link] [comments]

2020.09.08 20:20 Dcockit Real caught on camera sex

Hey, I don't know where else this might go as a post. It is more of a confession or just me writing down my situation and thoughts. Sort of telling my story as it is currently. *Warning* this is super long.
When I was about 11 or 12 I started getting feelings sometimes for men. I grew up in a strict Christian house and "knew" that it was wrong for me to feel these feelings. So I would tell myself to push them away and they would go away. And everything would be right with my world again....for a little while then one day I would all of a sudden feel this type of way again. So then I would explore it a little bit more in fantasies and stuff. Around this time is when I first tried on my mom's underwear and found out that I loved that. So I have gone through this cycle of pushing away these feelings that I "knew" were wrong and they would be gone for a while and then a dream or something would bring them right back.
In the beginning, they would just be small feelings and then they would be easy to push away after a few days. Then they would be gone for a long time before they came back. Then as the years went on when they came back I would explore them just slightly more each time and they would stay longer and they would be harder to get rid of. In the middle of this cycle, I am in high school with this guy that comes out as gay. So a little while later I end up having this super-steamy dream about this guy and totally realize I am kind of into him. I can't ever let myself believe this so I start this internal denial campaign and tell myself that I am for sure not gay and realize the only logical course of action (*roll eyes*) is to go completely the other way with it and be a homophobe. I wasn't very nice to him and I do regret it. Several years ago we connected and I apologized for being that way. IDK if my apology was good or not. I apologized in a time where I was trying to push my feelings away and they were coming back slightly.
So I believe it was within days after that I decided I would go to the adult store and I was going to actually buy porn that I actually liked so I go there late in the evening when my roommate at the time isn't home. I go in and go straight to gay porn. There are a few that catch my eye and low and behold I walk up to the counter with bisexual mmf type porn. I couldn't even buy the gay porn. I get home and I am watching it that night and the next day I am watching it thinking, "You know what would be hotter? If this didn't have women". So the next night I go back and buy one gay porn. I get it home and watch it and loving it. I had experimented before with fingering myself and I decide this is the night I really find out what this prostate is all about. The whole experience with the gay porn and fingering myself was one of the most amazing. This became a regular thing. I was in a long-distance relationship at the time and only saw my gf once in a while. This became quickly my main form of masturbation.
During this time craigslist hookups were a big thing. I first put out a couple adds with no real prospects until one. I talked to this guy that wanted me to come to his house and give him a blowjob. I told him that I was nervous to have sex and bottom but he might be able to talk me into it. I go as far as getting showered and cleaning up real good and I leave to meet this guy. I get to his house and chicken out completely. I drove back to my place sort of in a daze caught between dodging a bullet and disappointed in myself for standing him up when he thought he was getting a blowjob and was going to get to have anal sex. I told myself when I got home that I wouldn't try that again and pushed away all my desires for men.
About a week later I decided I needed a friend to go to the gym with and keep me accountable and help me get in shape. I placed an ad on Craigslist for a strictly platonic friend to work out with. I kinda forgot about the ad and went on about my day. That night I talk to my girlfriend and she was in a particularly bad mood and we fought a bit and when I got off the phone with her my roommate was in bed. I decided to get on my computer and the next thing I know I found myself into my usual gay porn spots. Then I opened my email to respond to a guys ad on Craigslist. There was a response from my ad that I posted earlier so I decided to look at it. I read it and it isn't platonic at all. This is a guy offering me a quick blowjob if I go meet him. No strings attached or anything just a quick blowjob. I was reluctant at first and send him an email saying my post was for a platonic friend and nothing like that and he just told me how if I don't like it then he will stop and no harm no foul. Then all of a sudden things clicked and I told him I would like to meet. We met at a local spot and he got in my car and I drove to find a secluded spot and he thought it looked ok so I went ahead and took my pants off and he leaned over and started sucking me. It was fine and he was good but I was more in awe that it was a guy.
After a little bit I came and he opened the door and spit. I was pretty offended that he spit which I shouldn't have been. He commented on how quick it was and I told him that I hadn't had any in a while. Truthfully it hadn't been too long. I more got off on the idea that it was a guy than the actual blowjob. Afterward, he told me he liked my dick and I took him back to his car and we went out separate ways again. On my drive home I started to regret what I had just done. The next weeks I just thought a lot about, "Why would I do that?" and "I can't believe I would have a guy suck my dick".
I thought a lot about this and one night I am laying in bed contemplating and thinking about why I regret it and had this moment of clarity finally. I realized I didn't regret it because I did something with a guy. I realized I regretted it because I wished that if I did something with a guy it wouldn't have been that. This was the moment that it became clear that if I was going to be doing oral with a man I want to be sucking him and if I am going to have sex with a man I will be the one being penetrated. I am a bottom I realized that day.
I went a few years without giving in to any of my desires and I got married to my wife and all was good. A couple of years into our marriage I decided one day when I was home by myself that I would try on some of her cute underwear. Then her lingerie and then dresses and before I knew it I was secretly crossdressing again and Thankfully I could fit into her clothes. I slowly got into looking at and watching gay porn again and then found myself on Craigslist looking again and that all took me to get on a chatting app. There I discovered this world of guys like me that were in the closet and wanted to hook up with guys. There was everything from gay closeted bottom guys with wives/girlfriends to straight top guys that just wanted blowjobs and anal that their wives weren't giving them. I found this community fascinating and very addicting.
I told myself it was all just chatting and talk and little fun like that until one day this guy I had been chatting with for a while told me how he really wanted to fuck me. I was into him and so we went down this road and explored how we could do this. He was married too and we couldn't really meet at his house and certainly couldn't meet at mine. So he came up with a way to get past this barrier. He told me where he worked and it happened to be just a 5-minute drive from where I worked. So he told me he wanted me to just come to his work. The situation was not really conducive to a first time having gay sex or probably the first time for anal sex for anyone really. He wanted me to come to his work and it was a warehouse and he had some boxes set up where there were no cameras. We would be able to have sex there. I took a few days thinking about everything and told him I want to do it. So I went to the local gym and took a shower and told my work I was going to be at meetings. I tell him I am on the way and he tells me I have that I have to stop in the front office and tell the receptionist that I am there to receive a package and then drive around to the dock and go in and he would take me to the spot he made up and fuck me and then I would have to stop in with the receptionist to check out. I leave and come back to his work 3 times and then finally get the courage to go in and tell the receptionist I am there. I walk in and there is this really pretty young receptionist and all I can think is that she will know what I am doing somehow if I tell her I am here to "receive a package" as he told me to say. So I just tell her I am lost and looking for this other business close and she gives me directions to the other place.
Then again after that close call, I swore everything off for a while. That was until my work told me I had to travel for this seminar. I thought about everything and decided to look for an adult toy store close to where I had to stay. I realized I wanted to try anal. If I didn't like it then that would be fine and I wouldn't try with guys any more I thought. So I being too nervous emailed the store and they told me the dildos they had and set one aside for me to come in and buy. I go in and I will never forget how nervous I was and the girl took it out of the bag to make sure it was the dildo I wanted and asked me if I had lube and toy cleaner or if I was going to be needing that too and I can barely talk I am so nervous. I end up going somewhere else to buy lube like she didn't know what I was doing whether or not I bought lube from her lol.
I get back to my hotel and take my time preparing and getting clean and it comes time. I stick my dildo to the shower wall and lube it and myself up and reposition it several times to be perfectly lined up and finally push my butt back onto it feeling pressure until it finally the head feels like it pops into me as I am being penetrated by something larger than a finger for the first time. Everything went great and it was good. Then afterward I thought to myself that it wasn't that great. I threw it away and thought, "I guess I am straight after all". Then several weeks later I have to travel again and this time I am thinking about how my dildo felt and how I want that again. So This time I get another one which was a little bit bigger and more difficult to get in but this second time I already knew I enjoyed the feeling so I just relaxed and got it in and it was better even. The next day my butt was so sore I could barely sit through my meetings.
This has become a regular thing when I travel. I contemplated the fact that maybe I am bisexual and tried to live with that for a while. But when I am alone and being honest with myself saying I am bisexual just doesn't feel right. So then I would always go back to straight but that doesn't make sense given my intense desire to have sex with men. Then recently I tried saying I am gay during one of these times trying to be honest with myself alone. This feels right in my head. Then I think about how I love my wife and romantically would never want anyone else. Then I always go back to this deep desire that I have been fighting my entire life and currently I am so confused that I was talking to a friend I met online and she suggested that I post my story on here or somewhere and see what other people think about it. Thank you for reading and I would love to hear your thoughts.
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2020.09.07 16:44 thrwawy_breadcrumbs Real caught on camera sex

My conscience is so split over this but I need to at least see it all laid out for myself. I'm tired of it rotting my mind and my soul or if that is even the right way to see this. I need peace, but I'm not sure you can give it to me as well as I can find a way of letting it go.
I guess it's been over a dozen or so years now. I was a vacant kid with no conviction, no drive. I could barely hold a conversation with anyone. I knew what I wanted at times but I was never able to speak them effectively. I was an awkward guy. I still am in a lot of ways but, at least now I can tell you what I think.
I was ostracized for most of school and even in college because of this. By both teachers and students of differing cliques. In band even, I had only a few friends and even fewer that really knew me as well as they could. For some seemingly cruel twist of life my favorite people moved away or were put into different classes the next year and we grew apart. My best friend in High School I met senior year. He went down south, I went to college.
In the midst of those years, you came out of nowhere and you were able to snap me out of my melodramatic haze that was that fucking school for the few months that we were together. Now it seems silly that weren't together all that long, but how long it felt didn't make any sense. Those were the best months of the first twenty years of my life. You were beautiful. You were nerdy. You were so smart. You were crazy. We almost got caught so many times, lol. I loved every minute of it.
My already hampered ability to think and speak effectively were just obliterated by you at times. I still remember finding myself staring at you like a statue one day just weirding you out, lol. I still remember seeing your bare shoulders for the first time at the camper, and for whatever reason that image is still burned in my mind, clear as day.
You loved video games in a time and place where only the squishy nerds dared to speak of RPG strategy in public. You liked puzzle games and you read books like a train headed to Stanford. I couldn't read books because I would start daydreaming halfway through the page and I liked my ending better. You were an A student, I was a C student.
But, those days came to an abrupt end and life went on.
It's been so long I can't remember why it ended but, I do remember being absolutely devastated. Goddamn Valentines day. Who fucking decided that bullshit day? But, it ended like many things do.
We went onto college, life went on. My awkward C student-self barely scraping by. I still was ostracized by most. Even in college band. I tried joining a fraternity. I was still awkward, but I did find my best friend in College. He adopted me like an extrovert and introvert. Bloody brilliant and as charismatic as they come. A bit arrogant but, how much can you expect from trumpet players. I learned a lot from him. I modeled how to talk to people and how express myself from him. Unfortunately, I picked up a lot of his bad habits as well, but hey... I was still better off for it, until it wasn't. Alcohol, is a hell of a drug and unfortunately is what would give me the courage to reach out to you at times. We were drinking Ol' Jerry just about every day for two years and my life slowed to an arduous crawl. I crammed three years of college into six.
A lot of that time was some of the worst for me. I still wasn't good at talking to people, especially women. I had met three during those six years and only been with 2 and I was nothing short of a letcher who's life would probably had been better off without a camera phone. I sent you a few 'probing' texts from time to time. I wasn't sure how you felt about me. I was also a horny and attention starved little shit who's best memories were of you. I did miss you, but I was just weird kid without a thread of self-control.
What was once a great friendship slowly became toxic. I was a fat, lazy, weird dude but, I did find someone on the way. I found someone who didn't treat me like I was a fucking alien. She was good to me and I felt that I was enough for her. But, we found each other through a bottle and I had already started to harbor a significant self-hatred. I had no idea that she was on anti-depressants. She was the second person I had given myself to and I didn't want to feel responsible for her. It was such a mess and I thought I could fix everything. My life was falling apart. I was burned out of school. I was burned out of music. I was almost burned out of life. I wanted to run and get away from everything. I found an out and it was perfect. I joined another fraternity: Uncle Sam's Misguided Children.
Hands down the best decision I ever made. Not that the bar was that very high at that point. I was confident my life was going to be different, like I could handle my life and I could change my 'destiny'. I married the hot mess after boot camp like everyone tells you not to do. Things were good for a while, but I still had those bad habits and over time things settle down. Love has been reduced to pleasantries and sex has become less frequent than lunar eclipses.
I would spend months away on mission and I finally learned to talk to people and express myself by being forced to be in the same room with people for 24 hours at a time. But I began to notice that it was my interests that kept me and friends from accumulating. The people that I truly wanted to know were always so few and far between. I'm an adventurer looking for things that I didn't know that I was looking for.
In those long months, is when I would miss you. In those drunken stupors is when I would reach out to you and those fond memories began to haunt me. I started to become depressed because I couldn't let you go and I finally started to acknowledge it to myself.
Things were fine after a couple years of being married, the hardest was the first few months but things eventually evened out. I told myself that sex wasn't everything, and that is true. But, that is difficult to keep telling yourself when the black mirror sleeps next to you every night.
Eventually, I could finally go a few months without those memories of you haunting me. It's been six years since I signed the dotted line and I got out after my first enlistment and I finished my degree and I'm still married. No kids.
But things, began to happen. I've never slept well, but now it's getting real. I keep having dreams about you. Fourteen fucking bullshit-ass years later! I wake up and my fucking heart is pounding so goddamn hard I feel like its going to tear from the pressure. I can't hold on to this anymore. Something needs to give. So this is it:
I'm old enough to know that Disney is a fucking pipe dream that was sold to all of us. It isn't fucking real. It is a lie for your money. I reject that reality. Some people don't find 'true' love, I thought that was it. Some folks are just going to have to accept the frigid and cruel reality that a tree has to find a spot in the sun but the other trees won't give it to him. I've been shit on enough to know that most people don't give a rats ass about you and you have to find the few that are willing to walk with you. So I 'settled'. I though that I'm just going to have to bite the bullet and just pass on my genes and whatever is left of my goodwill and die knowing that a piece of me might not make the same mistakes. I've been trying to fill my life with this structure of a future because if I don't, then that's it.
And I was fine with that.
But You. I can't, I just. I don't know what the fuck to do. Why now after all this time? It's not for lack of trying. It's not like I can tell anyone that I still haven't gotten over this shit and now it's waking me up in the middle of the night and don't tell me this is ridiculous. I know it fucking is.
One of those 'precious' nights where I would reach out to you, you said something to me. And I thought about it for a while. You were right, J, you are my Ligeia. But, I still remember the pact. And if anything ever happens then I would like get to know you once more.
I seen enough to know that what I remember isn't you. It was a piece of you that you gave to me and I loved it long after until it became a pleasant nightmare. Time has passed and by know the both of us are quite different individuals. Sometimes I wish things were different but, I can't hurt her anymore than I already have.
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2020.09.07 04:43 Tujague Real caught on camera sex

Well, since we're all sitting around waiting for Season 3 to come out (or our comics to arrive), and I just finally gave this show a start-to finish run through, I figured I'd blurf up my own impressions as a rite of passage.
First, the show is kind of all over the place, but I agree with the prevailing opinion here that it works. It really does feel like original 1960s Star Trek plus Star Trek TNG plus workplace comedy and I think in the end is more than the sum of its parts. But it's more like chunks of stuff rather than a smooth blend - half the Captain's jokes are scene-ruiners. I was glad when they sort of stopped trying. The guy playing Gordon is killing it - it works because the character is a funny guy. They squeeze a lot of humanity and humor into side and background characters, such as Yaphet and that big porno-dealer guy and it works.
Other chunks: corny, gee-whiz science-fiction-with-a-message fun a la 1960s Star Trek. Optimistic hopeful vision of a shiny happy future a la Star Trek TNG. We've talked about this plenty and probably watched the Red Letter Media videos about it. It's really the charm of the show. I keep thinking back to how Red Dwarf started as a hilarious trashy send-up of a space opera and gradually evolved into a the kind of show it was originally spoofing. But that took like 6 seasons! This one was more like a fast head fake. But, as the Red Letter Media guys also point out, our alternatives such as brand-name Star Trek shows are terrible. I'm about to try Below Decks, god help me.
Some stuff I don't like: I'm about done with Moclan society and gender relations. I feel like they wrote down every possible story thread stemming from a head-up-the-ass society where girls are mutants and did them all. What if Our Hero has a girl? What if there's a trial? What if they regret it later? What if the kid grows up a little and starts acting like a dick to female children? What if other Moclans are around and one of them likes to sex females? Two seasons in and I'm real tired of water from that well. Half of it was handled well and the other metric ton was not.
That said, watching these two hulking aliens have a domestic situation is pretty hilarious sometimes. They skipped every chance to make Bortas' husband a deeper, more interesting character, but watching them get into a huge fistfight while they were craving cigarettes was pure gold. Bortas on his own is a treat to watch.
Gordon's breakout episodes are high points - his romance with the girl from the past and his action episode with the traitor guy. The engineer LaMarr is a complete flatline. He desperately needs a breakout role because it sure wasn't the one where he almost got executed by Reddit downvotes. Strangely.
I get that Commander Kelly Grayson is kind of the show's straight man, but I am really tired of seeing her apologize to Captain Mercer with trembling lips. Like, the first thing that happens is she is caught cheating en flagrante delicto. Fine, she's in the doghouse and is apologetic and guilt-ridden. A couple of episodes later she's apologizing for helping him get the job. Then, later on, she's apologizing for changing her mind about rekindling their love affair. Then she has a scene every other episode where she confesses to the camera that she's still in love with him and she's guilt-ridden about that. Then her doppelganger from seven years ago visits this universe and they argue about whether or not they are both in love with the captain. Then, in the finale of Season 2, she's apologizing to the captain for not going out with him again and getting married and accidentally destroying Earth and the federation. She's sorry. She's real sorry. She's groveling in front of the guy who writes and produces the show. Again. It's like one-third of her total screen time.
It's one of the things that makes the captain seem like a puerile self-insert. Like, seriously, compare what we know about Ed Mercer at the end of Season 2 and compare it to what we knew about Jean-Luc Picard or Benjamin Sisko at the end of their second season. It's not great.
I love the Doctor. Everything Penny Johnson does on this show just shines with authenticity, starting with her beefing with her kids and ending with her falling into this exasperating relationship with the robot. With less skilled writing or acting it would be painful to watch, but it's great. The scene where Isaac creates a human face to go on a date was pure magic. Also, the scary episode where she goes nuts and starts saying creepy stuff from inside the jail cell was a season highlight. Whoever is doing Isaac's body work is also top-notch. He's so consistent and believable, it's like they hired a world-class mime.
It's so weird to me that they swapped out a tiny girl in a wig from a super-strong race with a slightly larger, older girl in a wig from a super-strong race. Putting aside the rumor that McFarlane was doinking his costar and then wrote her off when they broke up, and putting aside the part where they were laying the groundwork for the girl character to have a big crush on the captain for some fuckin' reason, her character development and her big breakout episode leading to her (obviously planned somewhat in advance) exit was really good. Robert Picardo wrecked shop in that role. I got choked up when he broke down after the violence.
I have no read at all on the new version of the strong girl character. It's weird that there are two. And the new one doesn't have the babyfaced vulnerability that made the 'family drama' element of her character work, so instead she's just a hairdo.
I guess I just wanted to express this to someone while I'm in quarantine. I like that everybody is a borderline alcoholic. I like that they don't have teleporters so they have to drive everywhere, but on the other side they can just make food out of thin air. I like the near-total absence of technobabble except when it's in service to the plot. It's a fascinating show, but partially because it wobbles back and forth from great to iffy. I'm really tempted to get the comics, can anyone give me a thumbs up on them?
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2020.09.04 16:57 welcometosouthapp Real caught on camera sex

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.
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’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?”
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.”
“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.
“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 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.
submitted by welcometosouthapp to welcometosouthapp [link] [comments]

2020.09.04 05:34 commanderbuzzy Real caught on camera sex

Hi! You don't know me, but I'm Buzzy. I'm new to the subreddit and this is my first post on it.
After all the craze on Twitter over the show, my friends finally convinced me to give it a try. I had previously brushed it away, saying it wasn't my style, but The Shivering Truth had just come out on Adult Swim and I enjoyed it immensely. Both shows overlap in some ways, so I figured since I liked TST, I would obviously love Hazbin. I'm also trying to kickstart my YouTube career in film theories, so due to the popularity of the show, I figured that if I watched it and reviewed it, I could hopefully make a YouTube video on it that would garner a lot of attention.
Upon starting the episode, I loved it. The rainbow, the singing, the colorful characters; it was a blast. I was having so much fun.
When Angel Dust came on screen for the first time, he seemed quite interesting. He was some sort of glamorous pink demon that anyone would swoon for, and he was promiscuous and playful; he lived his life on the edge, something most of us don't have the guts to do. I ate that shit up immediately like a wolf with a fresh kill. I loved his design and I especially loved his voice; I think whoever his voice actor was did an excellent job.
However, upon finishing the episode, I felt sort of disappointed.
Angel Dust's character is really just one big fetish, which makes him sort of unlikable.
It's clear that the road they went down with him is "sex-crazed, submissive, femboy gay guy who does drugs and lives his life on the edge and is only close friends with girls because he relates to them the most" which feels too much like a checklist. It was like someone designed him while checking off boxes, making sure that he fit all the criteria.
"Sex crazed? Check. Physically weak? Check. Gay? Check. Pastel color palette? Check." Etc, etc, etc. He felt too.... Black and white. Way too placket and white for such a colorful character. This whole "checklist" feels less like they're designing a cute alien boy and more like they're trying to design.... A sex doll.
Now that I think about it, his whole personality felt like a checklist which made him far less compelling than he could have been. It seemed like his entire personality and behavioral choices revolved around his bare-bones personality -- or perhaps -- the fetishization of his sexuality.
Not only did he feel artificial because of how much of a checklist his personality was, he felt like an insult;; a generalization. Your stereotypical gay guy who likes sex and drugs and dressing up feminine. To put it short, he was merely a husk of what he could have been.
Of course, it's fine if you are whoever you are. If your real-world qualities match up with Angel Dust's and you act the way he does, that's perfectly valid and awesome! However his character wasn't any deeper than his stereotype which was what felt so cruel.
He felt so ridiculously confined to this box of how he was "supposed" to talk, how he was "supposed" to react in certain situations, and how he was "supposed" to behave, that he felt like that was all he was. Nothing deeper than his stereotype. His checklist personality. The fetishization of his sexuality.
I noticed that they had made a music video about him which I thought would redeem him in my eyes. It absolutely did not. If anything, that's why I'm here; to rant about the music video.
I genuinely don't think it's a coincidence that he's a stripper. It feels like he was given that job by the creators of the show due to his stereotype, because after all people like him are good for nothing but taking their clothes off or whatever the logic was that went through their heads when they landed him in the most stereotypical job field. I feel like if you lined up every person in the world and asked them where they thought Angel Dust would work, everyone would immediately guess "stripper" because its just so obvious based on the way they built his boxed-in personality.
And, once again, there's nothing wrong with that. All jobs are valid. But it feels like Angel Dust was assigned that job because "it's what a guy like him would do" or whatever.
That wasn't even the end of it. The rape scene is what set me off; what motivated me to rant about his character. Like him being a stripper, ITS NO FUCKING COINCIDENCE THAT HE WAS FORCED INTO HAVING SEX. It felt like the writers only added that because "that's what happens to people like him" or whatever logic they thought made sense in that moment
And ok, whatever. It would be 25% understandable if it stopped there, but it was when they SHOWED THE RAPE that made the whole point of the scene 0% understandable.
His back was arched like a pornstar. The camera angle made him look small compared to the guy assaulting him. He was still all dolled up, white hairtie on his left arm, makeup still perfectly intact.
They didn't try to portray an authentic harassment. They went out of their way to portray a glossed up, clean, "just-another-day", glamorous sex scene. Because, of course, the "uwu baby" can't get messy;; he wouldn't be caught dead looking less than glamorous, of course!
I'd simply have a bone to pick with this scene if it felt and looked authentic. But it wasn't. It was designed to fit the aesthetic of the show, which made zero sense in that moment. Logically, Angel Dust would have been a mess during that scene, but no no no no, they wanted him to look pretty because "that's what counts".
It didn't feel authentic. It felt, once again, like a husk of what it was supposed to be. And, once again, it felt like it happened because of his stereotype.
I absolutely do not intend to imply that he has no feelings or thoughts outside of his checklist personality and the way he is clearly stereotyped. What I'm saying is that he is so much more than what he is "supposed" to be. He is more than a stereotype.
He is Angel Dust, a captivating and enthralling character who can control his life out of what is "supposed" to happen to him.
SHOW US THAT. Show us who he is. His uniqueness. His character. His, well, everything.
Because it feels like all of that is hidden behind a mess of fur and demon cum.
Edit: yes, i will be giving the show another try when episode 2 comes out. What I'm saying is that he's really tropey so far and his character, whether he might change in the future or not, still is a fetishization at the moment
submitted by commanderbuzzy to CharacterRant [link] [comments]

2020.09.02 19:35 CHODINGERS-CAT Real caught on camera sex

This is my first ever story so I hope it's somewhat entertaining, I hope you enjoy it.
For Kell, his species were evolved from herbivores so to him humans were terrifying, although truly omnivores humans had still evolved hunting, they were predators by nature, and to Kell that was all he needed to know. For all of his life, this was Kell's mindset, so when three human crew members were commissioned to join the ship he was to say in the least displeased. He had never actually met a human before, much less even seen one, but he had heard the stories of their home planet. It wasn't how they were so durable and resistant that scared him it was how violent they were portrayed. His species only rarely fought so close-range weapons were still in use until the chamber integrated them. As a matter of fact, war was foreign to most of the species within the meridian zone. so when a new noticeably intelligent species had sprouted up in a matter of six thousand years and figured out how to decimate entire cities in a matter of hours it was both shocking and terrifying. The last major conflict could only raise about 1.4 million soldiers for either side, but this species had armies of 3.6 million soldiers for each of their main powers. These humans were genuinely scary. However out of respect and tradition when welcoming the new crew members Kell and the rest of the crew lined up to greet them upon arrival. Two of the humans were, according to the transcripts, male and the other female. It appeared that the male with a darker pigmentation was a naval officer his records were as follows.
name: Elijah Kelahni
race: Pacific IslandeFilipino/Spanish
sex: m
dob : 03/02/2106
nationality: American
background: USNA/naval officeredeployment at The United States Pacific Guard/redeployment at [redacted]/redeployment at Launch Site#12
medical conditions: 8% spinal curvature
stasis internment date: 27/08/2137
departure: Charion [Boeing] class D military transport
serial: 4467583
As far as the other two one was, Kell checked, American as well, his name was Carter Wells. He had been on the same jump ship as Elijah as a medic. Kell wasn't sure how he felt about human doctors, granted he was a little biased so he would have to see. but the female interested him. Her transcripts were as follows
name: Elaine Porter
race: English/French/Japanese
sex: f
dob: n/a
nationality: French
background: orphan/Boulder University/Landria biosciences & technology
medical conditions: n/a
stasis internment date: 25/07/2137
departure: Helios [Landria] class B civilian transport
Kell noticed that this human was physically smaller, wasn't it common for the female to be larger, that was how it was for carnivores, he'd have to read the information more thoroughly. he noticed that the humans were surprisingly symmetrical, at least more so than any Dyrmun or Urquy, he could at least say that they were one of the more visually appealing species, but didn't want to admit much else. when the humans got to him he lifted his chin and flushed his fora with light as a greeting, he tried to be as friendly as possible but the light was still somewhat dull. The female human bared its teeth and Kell stepped back he realized this was a gesture of kindness but it still bothered him. she apologized and hurried to the other humans embarrassed. he saw her face turn red and wondered if it was anything like his fora.
later during their last meal, a discussion came up in a local dialect going something like this.
I heard humans will eat their prey alive.
No, they wouldn't do that they're intelligent after all.
No no, it's true a friend visited one of their colony worlds, and apparently, they sometimes grab their prey and just eat it right then and there.
I've heard they'll eat anything. when they first started colonizing they mistook Dyrmun larva for food
That is probably a lie, those are about the ugliest looking things in the galaxy!
our larva are {grand}!
All I'm saying is if you're gonna put one of those in your mouth raw you don't fear anything.
I was once a larva too why would you ever put one of us in your mouth!
Humans are scary that's all I'm saying.
I will concede that, but every creature fears something.
Even Humans, no I do not believe it, they are at the top of their food chain they do not have anything to fear. you ask you will see.
What... you are of weak spirit?
No, I am just unsure how to communicate with them.
Use your translator.
It is not accurate, does not work, only for translating into our language.
one hands the other a screen and pushes them, they head over to the group of humans at the table. In broken English, they ask
You, humans, are terrifying to us but we want to know what scares you?
most of the table is quite by now it was really an upfront statement, and rude at that. Kell had always been told to respect the humans as they were a proud people and could act irrationally, this was partially due to the fact that they were relatively new and unknown so their culture was not fully studied. To his surprise, however, the humans laugh, a surprising consistency between their species, this puts Kell at ease. one of the humans speaks up. It is Carter.
so like are you asking as a general fear or like more specifically, because I have more real fears and more irrational, or wait actually,... are the translators working just fine?
He looked around for a sign of approval and got a somewhat halfway sign that, yes they did work.
So for example, I have trypopobia which is a completely unwarranted fear, basically I don't like closely packed holes. but if you're asking realistically I'd say I'm particularly afraid of drowning.
Elijah butts in saying something about drowning in his navy days and continues on. the female notices an Enuktt, Kell sees the female looking at him. she seemed to be a lot more aware, or maybe cognizant of her surroundings. she took her eyes off of him and started to speak.
I think what they mean is do we have any natural predators or constant threats to us.
She looks at Kell and he flushes glowing a violet color, this is a sign of approval she noted. She continued to talk.
We don't actually have any natural predators. There used to be wolves but most were hunted down or domesticated. So the closest to what I believe you are describing would be things from our imagination or something like folklore.
Carter and Elijah had stopped talking.
"The best example I can come up with is #0 the story originated close to a hundred years ago, back when governments were still doing genetic testing back on Terra. no one knew if it was true since the story ended with the creature being killed, most of this was speculation but it did have a lot of congruencies with history. It was officially regarded as an urban legend but it seems highly plausible anyway since it occurred on an international scale. there's also the thought that there was too much detail for it to be true, however it was recently disclosed as true. and I apologize for these locations, I realize they mean little to you but it's for the sake of the story, I guess you could say."
It started off as a colonization effort it was a space race of sorts between private companies and governments. one of these involved was the Chinese government, famous for their humanitarian policies, or lack thereof. It wasn't new to hear of human-animal hybrids in labs from China so no one thought any different about the project at first. China had aimed to create a human that could live in hazardous conditions. I realize this must come as a shock since most of you already believe that Earth is hazardous enough. But anyway they did this partially because they did not have the funding for a full space program so to lighten the budget they would eliminate the necessities by altering a human instead. When other nations got wind of this they attempted to sabotage their experiments. the first attempt was by a private company with a similar goal. It is uncertain how they acquired the sample. the story varies. But anyway the facility was originally a Russian division of a Japanese company that created their labs there for legal shortcuts. The labs were built surprisingly far into Siberia while they were testing a strain of their own bacteria and one of the Chinese lab strains came in contact. not until later was this discovered. they had injected their patients with their own strain hoping to come out with results. however one of the patients, patient #0 was injected with the cross-contaminated strain. they rapidly started to evolve and show the mutations the lab was looking for. However, it also started to change their brain function. The "person" had the strong instincts of a predator but also those of pray, with the intelligence of a human. but they were corrupted, no longer a human. Some say it was out of pity that one of the researchers released the patient not believing they would be harmful. Others say it was a security breach during testing that the patient escaped. "oh and just for simplicity's sake I will be referring to the patient as #0" Elaine said. #0 was able to survive the Siberian wilderness not to mention its overall appearance helped with that. The creature was pale and easily blended into the snow. its limbs, once human, had grown about twice the length it was meant to survive the cold. it was engineered for living on Europa so this was nothing. The creature had adaptations from different animals it could travel long distances on water and land its feathers were like fur and it was highly insulating. The creature realizing it was no longer human would try to escape civilization. However, it was still mentally a human. but just like all humans, it would slowly go insane in isolation gradually hating humans. It was tracked to Finland where it would live for a while. It was observed and many believed it would die soon, but it did not. It was noted that #0 would start to observe its surroundings more, imitating animals. It was also reported to sing in a lonely tone and some times speak broken Russian. It was believed that #0 was attempting to be more like an animal. the chip still worked. and when a field team was sent to observe it, it was seen wearing a dear skull. It still had the tatters of cloaths on it, appearing that it did not want to completely lose its humanity. It barely spoke anymore. Its' first contact with a human was caught by a security camera. it was on the outskirts of Finland. It had wandered into a field where a girl was playing. when the girl saw #0 instead of running she approached it. The girl was named Cecil at the time it is said that she was about 6 or 7. she was making a flower crown and when she came over to #0 she put it on its head. for about a month this would happen #0 would sit in the field and Cecil would climb on him. Due to increasing safety concerns, a task force was sent out to separate the two. It was comprised mostly of Spetsnaz and, I'll spare you the details but they were found as mangled corpses in the field. when questioned the girl mentioned the name Aleksander the original name of #0. the parents were advised to keep the girl inside until further notice. approximately two months later the girl died of cancer and would be buried in the field. only then did the parents discover what had happened. On their way to visit their daughter's grave, they saw a large pale humanoid with coarse "fur" on its back and a dear skull on its head it sat singing no real melody just a tune with the occasional name of Cecil. It would just sit in the field they saw it every day just sitting saying their daughter's name. Sometimes bits of broken Russian could be heard. One day while watching the creature it began to look around it stared at them they stood in fear but the creature just left. When the creature stopped showing up the parents went to their daughters grave on it was a flower crown like their daughter would make. this one was rough but it sat on the headstone very purposefully. The lab attempted to prevent any more encounters. However, it was often spotted by hunters the name given by those from America was the White Wendigo. The story of #0 would for the next 80 years or so be told as an urban legend until the Finnish government would disclose the majority of the details about 30 years ago. And although they say that #0 was shot and killed, those Spetsnaz couldn't do anything so there is speculation that it is still alive. some people report hearing broken Russian in the forests in Finnland or hearing the name Cecil repeatedly from a distance. Honestly, most people just avoid those parts now.
"So I guess your answer is yes humans have things they fear. we fear the unnatural or unexplained. So yes we can be afraid of things." said Elaine.
Carter laughed and said "we're not trying to give the crew heart attacks Elaine. He stood up, finished his drink, and walked out of the mess hall. Elijah, however, Kell noticed had gone pale. he too left but said nothing. Elaine was unaware of her colleagues' departure. After the story, some of the crew sat frozen, those with a heard mentality did at least. And Kell, kell was stunned partially by the fact that it was true but also that humans could make such terrifying creatures if they wanted to.
submitted by CHODINGERS-CAT to HFY [link] [comments]