Sex minuters speed dating

There's some new research on speed dating, coming from researchers in Germany (Asendorpf, Penke, and Back, in press). They set up a speed-dating event and invited a total of 382 people (190 men ... 13. GaHe Speed Dating 2. Speed Dating 2 is the next installment in GaHe.com’s speed dating series. To play the game, you’ll enter your name, age, and gender, and then use the keyboard to choose your opening lines and topics of conversation. Speed Dating 2 has an 84% rating among users, so we think you’ll enjoy it, too. 14. Speed Dating Oxford Single Events for 20’s, 30’s, 40’s & over 50’s. ... You’re bound to have a great evening, meeting so many different singles in such a short amount of time, as 4 minutes is all it takes at one of our speed dating in Oxford events. For example, there are speed dating events geared toward people with certain religious beliefs, occupational pursuits and who fall into a particular age range. It’s also important to note that speed dating events can typically cost around $30.00 to $40.00 per person, depending on which service you choose. The Date Doctor has been offering speed dating, singles events and the best dating advice since 2005. Serving singles in Connecticut and Richmond Virginia. Contact us 860-324-6679 SEX FILES: I tried virtual speed dating and here's what I learned Back to video. Just kidding. ... Unless you want to experience the longest five minutes of your life, avoid polarizing topics. With 10 minutes to get to know someone starting… now, the pressure is on! When talking speed dating questions, you need to know the right things to ask. When you go on a regular date, you spend two or three hours sitting with your date doing small talk and not really knowing where they stand in life. But speed dating, well, speeds everything up. 5 minutes ago. Police find man shot in Magnolia Gardens home. ... Manus is holding speed dating for singles in their 50s-60s Wednesday night at 7, but she has events available to all age groups. The typical speed date lasts only five to 10 minutes. The environment is comfortable. Speed dating events often take place at a club or bar. Drinks are served when you arrive, and you get a name ... We will break participants into pairs of two, just like we do with traditional speed dating. You will get to speak to each dates for a specified amount of time (typically 4-6 minutes). After the specified number of minutes, the guys will rotate to the next date and the process continues.

Okay, I'm the luckiest girl

2020.09.28 17:14 wannabesissyboi22 Okay, I'm the luckiest girl

So I met with Dream McDreamerson again yesterday after our COVID date and my first sissygasm thinking of him. It was the most dreamy, wholesome and affirming night of my life. We spent the majority of the night enjoying a cuddle and eating some food he cooked. He was playing with my butt cheeks, talking dirty and kissing my neck all the way through a three hour film. The dirty talk and eye contact made me so horny I just wanted him all night. I was shaking with built up tension when it finally came to the hot stuff. When we get to the hot stuff he was a Dom (yay) but in such a wholesome way I felt like it was relationship sex. It all started with him standing up after the film and saying "follow me" pulling me up the stairs. He then says "undress for me" and I did in the sluttiest manner I knew because I was so horny. He then compliments my lingerie choice and called me and I quote "very cute" to which my knees basically buckled. An extremely intense makeout and teasing session follows which got my legs trembling again. He then undresses and I'm met with a not intimidating but still beautiful cock to play with and in the most polite but hot manner he says "you should suck it" So I'm on my knees in front of the dream boat. He tastes amazing, the moans he makes are so hot and I'm gagging for him. He asks me if I like being throat fucked and my response is to deep throat him and he starts thrusting. Apparently my gag reflex just disappears when I'm horny so he has his fun with my throat and my eyes are closed enjoying every second. He then says the hottest thing of the night. "On your back, baby" hmmmm, fuck it was hot. He put me on my back, legs over his shoulders and hands on my thighs. He slowly eased in and fucked me like a girl during her first time (despite the training) for what felt like an age. Calling me a good girl and kissing me so sensually it hurts thinking about. Then he slowly started to speed up and as he did he put his one hand on my neck and the other on my thigh. We were there for at least twenty more minutes with kissing and whispers in eachothers ears. It was so wholesome and affirming Finally he said "on your knees" and I knew what to do immediately. Mouth around his head, using my tongue and teasing the cum out of him as he stroked. His cock and balls tensed up and he came such a gorgeous load. We basically passed out in eachothers arms, naked but for my panties and happy with the night. I feel so affirmed and incredibly happy in myself right now it's lovely. Find yourself a wholesome man like I did. It's literally the best. I've had lazy, easy and awful Grindr meetups before but this was another level. I feel like a girl in love. Stay happy and healthy girls. Remember, as said by a fellow redditor, you are the gift not them and you have worth even if you're a total sub. Love you all. Aimee. X
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2020.09.28 02:24 tsinnyc30 *TS* *NSW* I can't trust men, so I don't know how to love...where do i start to heal?

tw nsw rape/child sexual abuse. I write in a way thats very vivid, thats how the images in my mind work. Maybe its also because I am a writer, and it is hella drilled into us about details. All about the details. I know this can upset some people. So there is the warning.
I was a child of sexual abuse. Which made my rape at 23 worse. Much worse.
When I was 5, I was in foster care. I was a super feminine acting boy. (I am a trans woman now). My foster brothers and male figures never used to play with me. Saying things like:
"Don't you want to play with the girls, sissies don't like sports"
"Take ya gay, useless ass on somewhere" They would always leave me 
In came Carl. He always included me. He was 16/17 and he was amazing at first. He let me play super Nintendo with him. He took me to the park. He snuck me candy like Reese cups, when my Grandma told me no. I loved him. Growing up with my twin in foster care, I felt abandoned. Because I was a feminine boy, i felt doubly abandoned.
 He started asking me if I wanted to cuddle with him at night. My grandma was tired and he was always so nice to me, I don't even think she had a second thought about it. The first few sleep overs with Carl was beautiful. He would just hold me. He would tell me scary stories, then I would run to the bathroom in the dark, running back to his bad shaking. He would get me cupcakes. He would hold me, and tell me how he loved me. Until one night, it changed. He smelled funny to me, the-now-gorgeous-familar smell of Marijuana. He told me he wanted to show me a secret game. The games of men. Not knowing any better, I said show me. I loved and trusted him at 5. He was the big brother I always wanted...replacing the abandoned feeling I felt at my parents. He kissed me. He had vitiligo, and a pink spot that was so unique on the corner of his lips on his right side. I remeber the feeling of his third degree burned hands on my body. His mother tortured him and locked him in the closet for weeks on end in the Bronx. He had cigarette burns all over his body. He was still attractive. Beautiful hazel eyes. Brown skin like mines. Full pink lips. He was a boxer, he turned the hands his mother tried to take from him into weapons that made the street nickname him "Mean Machine", with how savagely he would fight guys on the street. He was also a child of sex abuse, once the system found him at 7, and placed him in group homes, which later, in my teenage years when I found out, made me totally forgave him. He did love me, even though he hurt me, but ultimately as a late teenager, he was just reliving a cycle. It does not excuse him, but compared to my rape at 23, I can forgive Carl. 
He pulled his pants down and put my tiny hands on his bigger genitalia. That was all we did the first time. He called me pretty.
"You really look like a little girl with ya long curly hair and bambi eyes". 
He orgasmed and because it didn't feel bad, I didn't see it as bad. It was just a game.
He then grabbed me softly and forced me to look at him. 
"You can't tell. If you tell, I will die. You don't want me to die right? If you tell, I will be gone and you will have nobody to play with, I will be killed horribly. This is our secret game. Only us. Okay?"
I was heartbroken. I let out a high pitch shrill cry. As I clang to him and repeated:
"Puleazhh don't die...please don't die. Please don't die...i lub you."
He held me again and we fell asleep.
The game was simple at first, just touching, but quickly it progressed.
 The 4th time I saw him, he put whip cream on himself. "I have a treat for you. If you play our secret game well, you will get a reward. You have to lick it off" 
So I did. I remember the smell of him. His just turned into a man pheromones plugging my noise. The sweat of his skin, and the sweetness of the whip cream. I gagged horribly. But he told me i was doing a Good job even though it was barely fitting. I remember his fluid on my face.
He wiped us both off and got a big ass bag of candy out his closet. Again...the behavior was painted as something good by him.
 (Im legit unnerved even though I can't help writing so candidly. To do that to a child, to lie and use manipulation is utterly insidious. To use my emotions, that he should have protected.....it id fucking gross. Gross. A 5 year old. What was sexy about me, I still occasionally peed the bed, I was dirty from always climbing and exploring things, etc...but then its not about that. But its just....ugh. I know he picked me because I was feminine and because I was a loner by the nature of what I am, a transgender individual.) This went on for months. His "you are so beautiful like a little princess", his cuddles, his playfulness. I loved it. Even the sex acts we did, i didn't mind because it was not violent nor did it hurt at that point. It was definitely uncomfortable/ weird and there was no sexual thrill for me. The only thrill was for me to please the brother I loved. If it pleased him, I was happy with that. I had turned 6 and a week later he brought me upstairs. He smelt like straight alcohol. He kissed me aggressively. "I missed my princess" His aggressiveness was scaring me. He had never acted that way before. "Ima go to De-lores. Goodnight. You being weird. (my adopted mom/ I call her grandma too). 
"No...u can't leave yet. You don't miss me?"
He pinned me down, as I yelled for him to let me go. He placed his hand over my mouth and nose, until I almost couldn't breathe and thrashed in the bed. He bent me over and tried to penetrate me, but I was wayyyyyy to small for that. So it never went in, but it was sooo painful. The edges of my hole, burned from the friction of him desperately tryna penetrate me......
He let me down on the cream color carpet of his room as I cried and hit him.
"U HURTED ME...CARL! YOU HURTED MY BUTT. YOU HURTED ME!" HE HUGGED ME AS I HEARD WHAT SOUNDED LIKE A WHISTLE NEAR THE STAIRS LEADING TO THE SECOND FLOOR. 
He placed me in the upstairs bathroom.
"If anybody asks why you up here, tell them you were using the bathroom. And im sorry. Im sorry. You forgive me. I'll make it up to you. I promise. Say you forgive me...please."
"I...forgived...u...." 
I said wiping snot away.
A week later. My grandma sat me down. She asked if anyone was touching us. She looked evil though. I know she would never hurt me, but I loved Carl like family. She had hell and brimstone in her irises, and she got into one of her righteous rants, where she said she would kill for me, kill for my brother, nobody would hurt us.
I don't know if she meant it, but she scared me into silence. I don't blame her. Its hard even bringing those topics up without emotion. But I didn't want Carl to die. So I shut up. At 6, I shut up. I didn't want him to die. And her words made what he said reality in my head.
I never went to him anymore though after my Grandma's talk and him tryna penetrate me. I never let him get me alone. He would try to bribe me with food, candy, video games, begging, clothes, money...but i never went.
He went to Juvie a few months later for stabbing a boy in the face over street wars.
 Life was normal until 11. In fourth grade, I was taking a NYS official test, I was answering a question about the Native American indigenous to NY state and boom: (There were two paintings in the upstairs hallway. My grandma had a picture of a Native man, with striking features, in a swamp, grabbing a snake. It was next to a picture of a black girl playing double dutch. That question connected back to that picture) 
It all played out in my mind like a movie. I didn't even realize I had suppressed it that much. I fought back tears and (I work well in stress, idk why but I do), I got a 97%.
 After that day I became hypersexual. When I think about it, I always was....touching boys and girls. Kissing girls and boys, playing house and being the wife. Always too fucking touchy and in people's personal space. But I guess at 11, puberty hit me full force and the idea of sex became something constant in me. Before that it was all mimicry of what happened to me. At 11, these thoughts entered me and would not leave. I wanted real sex after that moment. It is hell to be hypersexual at 11. My southern-upbrung Grandma was definitely not ready for that. Then my thoughts were about boys. I was consumed with them. Especially older men. Taking my friend in the closet and telling him I love him, while I pull his penis out and offer him a blow job. 
"...ok...ok...idk..but if its you...ok"
 I started fucking myself with things. The ends of a big screw driver with a soft silicon handle. An ugly yellow toy banana I found at Family Dollars. Fingers. It was like older men knew I was in a heat, I didn't want. I would masturbate like 7 times a day. It was never enough. It was all consuming. An older man who liked me gave me a dildo, he never had sex with me though. We would just talk about how it felt when I penetrate myself. He would stutter and cum to my stories. (I lose myself in good anal sex. I still do, I dissassociate in a good way, the noise of the world falls away and all I am in those moments are a body, feeling. There is no analyzing life, or existential crises. There is not a thousand thoughts in my head. No ptsd or bpd or bipolaor depression or all those mental illness therapists told me I had directly and not so directly) This feeling of shame came when I couldn't stop the thoughts. I was something bad and deviant. My thoughts were deviant, so I locked them up tightly. Even though they were ever present Carl came out of juvie/prison when I was 12. His 6 pack all those years ago had turned into an 8 pack. His slender, toned teen body, had grown into a young man's body. I was drawn to him. He felt indebted to me. 
I remember at 12, when of his hood friends used to flirt with me. Nothing crazy, just a little flirtatious. Always tryna wrestle me. Always tryna get my attention.
I came home one afternoon to him surprising me, him agitated.
"Jay is fucking with you D?" "No he is cool" "Lemme know cuz I will end any nigga for you. You hear me...any of them. You mines. You hear me!" 
My grandma sat on her bed smiling. Like aww look at the older brother being protective.
It wasn't protection though. He still felt like i belonged to him some way even though he never made anymore moves. He also felt guilty.
He was always giving me stuff. Clothes. Food. Money. Anything. It could have been his last.
I would watch him shower. He would leave the door open slightly. I would peek and look at his naked body, until my mind went crazy in heat. One Night, he left his shirt on the floor as he showered. I had a small t-shirt on and these too tight underwear. On the same cream color floor where he tried to penetrate me, i pentrated myself with that, ugly yellow banana, inhaling the intoxicating smell of his shirt. I was so into it, I didn't feel his eyes on me. 
He was watching me smell his shirt and fuck myself.
 He was hard and staring when I came on his rug. "We can't do that nomore. What i did was wrong....but fuck...you looked so sexy....still with the soft skin and big bambi eyes." "Fuck all that...i want you to fuck me..." "What's gotten into you...you used to be so innocent and sweet. We don't have to. I will always be be ya side. You still sexy though God. Even more sexy." "I don't know how to handle what you exposed to me. I want dick in me all the time. 24/7. I dream about it. I day dream about it. I fantasize about it. Please Carl, fuck me...please" "Im too big and people in the house and...." 
I got up knocking all the shit off his dresser. There's a rage in me, a darkness. A need. Impulsivity. Like every emotion is competing for best actress.
I started crying in pure fucking frustration. 
"So you could try to fuck me at 6, you pedo, but 12 is too old? Fuck you nigga. I hate what you did to me. You made me so fucking weird and now!!!!! You don't want to FUCKING continue. I hate you. Fucking die."
He hugged me like when I was little.
"You went me that bad? To finally have me truly take ya virginity. Wait a little longer okay. But look at me...clearly I'm excited. Just wait...ok? Sex starves D might be the seseries. (Him referring to me at 5/6 as sexy 🤢🤮, when I think about that disgusting convo) I pouted. He gave me 300 from his drug business to shut up. 
After that, every time he would pass me, he would feel on me. I'd wear little t shirts where my nipples poked out and pajamas too small, so my little butt could poke out.
He would touch me and kiss me in rushing. He was never home, always in the street. 
At 13, he died from a gunshot wound to the heart. He never did get to fuck me.
(Sometimes, when im depressed, and analytical, I think if all that really did propel me on my way to my life now. I pass as a woman and live an alright life, even with the trauma, but my Mom says when things like that happen to us so young, they become apart of our psyche. Not to say I would have been a sterotypical masculine male....but is this why I like being called princess and good girl, is this one of the reasons why I so desperately clung to womanhood, is this why, especially young, all my sexual fantasies were of me being penetrated by older, well hung, developed men. How much of it is my true nature, how much was groomed into me. The choking, the hypersexuality in my youth, the crazy sex adventures I found myself in. I don't think about it often. Its one of those questions that if I let it sit too long in me, will undo me. I love my transition (mostly) but that thought is scary. To think that, the person I am today can be attributed, at the least, slightly, to my childhood trauma)
The real trauma happened at 23. When i was 23, I dated this guy named Jason for 6 months. I had just started transistioning for a few months. He took me out. I met his close friends. I met his cousins. The sex was good, he was sweet and passionate. I felt like i was falling for him. Lucky. Special
I was a new trans woman, and most guys arent always so kind to not so passable trans women.
He treated me like a woman. How I always wanted to be treated.
Up until the night I told him no.
We had went out on a night on the town. The place is near west 4th street in NYC. It is called the Fat Black Pussy Cat. He bought me these bomb ass nachos and like 13 tequila shots. My stomach was queasy and I couldn't keep my head from spinning.
I get home and boom, sleep.
His body weight and his massive hands on me woke me up. (5'9 150 to his 6'5 250 pure muscled body). He was an athlete and he had went to prison. I never saw it as a red flag because it was a white collar crime.
He wanted sex.
I said no. I'm nauseous. In the morning bae.
It took my brain 10 minutes to catch up to what was going on.
My laughs and his stoic face.
My giggles and "stop playing Jason, in the morning im ride it good daddy." fall on a face that was determined.
His hand on my throat squeezing tighter and tighter.
When I realized what was happening (i'm also a childhood survivor as well). I fought. Two rights to his eyes and nose. He laughed. I ran for my kitchen, and picked up a knife but he slammed me.
Those first few moments were straight anxiety. Me, running full speed over my couch; him catching my leg and my face hitting the floor.
Me, head butting him right in his lip. I sunk my teeth into his shoulder blade. He slammed my body face first into my living room wall.
I remember the sound of glass breaking as he slammed my back against my glass coffee table. Bits of glass, like glass splinters, on the side of my spine.
I remember the anxious feeling turning into a doomed one, when my strength and stamina didn't match up to his. Even just 10 months on estrogen shots and anti testestorone pills had made me weaker. Like 50 percent weaker
His laughter in my ear as he said:
"I like girls with heart, ya are more satisfying to break"
After 20 minutes he got tired. Not physically tired. Tired of this fight in me.
I was on my last wind. Every nerve in my body was in fire from fighting with him so long. I grew up fighting and winning as a feminine boy. But as a trans women, on hrt, a high dosage, its just not the same.
I remember my teeth cutting into my jaw as he slammed my head into the kitchen tiles, the hemoglobin left the taste of iron in my head.
He punched my ribs, knocking the wind out of me. Stomped my right hand. I just laid there, as the reality of my situation set in.
Im not getting away.
"Isn't this why you transistioned...to entice men. Didn't you do this to become mines"
I dissassociated as he choked me until i couldn't breathe. Color flashed in front of my eyes. I focused on my cat in a corner, a white ball, like this had happened to her before . I didn't want to die from fighting for the right over my body. So I mentally left.
I focused on a dustball under my stove
I stared at a dead sparrow on my kitchen window ledge I had never noticed. I imagined I was that bird. Dead. If I'm dead, I can't feel and if I can't feel, this is not happening to me.
His kisses on my shoulder....and his "there's my baby girl", was worse than the rape or beating. That memory lives under my skin. His attempted intimacy daring rape. How....how....
It makes me so mad and digusted. Like I wanna take my nails to my skin to kill that fucking memory.
I wanted him to be evil. You are a fucking monster, fucking show it, you disgusting, deviant, criminally sadistic bastard. If you wanna be evil.
He caressed and kissed my unresponsive body.
Pushing his dick into my dry walls, slightly ripping me.
It was messy because I was not ready nor did I prep. It hurt because he went in dry.
I didn't even scream, as I felt myself tear a little. I just stared....i was death in those moments.
He left me there saying "I love you Daisy". I stayed on the ground for 30 minutes. No thoughts. I just stared. My kitty Carmen licked my face and I cried so horribly, stirred back to reality by her. She left white hairs on my chin as she turned into a ball under my neck.
He left anal fissures in me and a hemorrhoid. It hurt to use the bathroom for 10 days. He had fractured the bone below my right index finger. My left eye was filled with blood. When he slammed my head in the kitchen, blood filled into it. I looked like an extra in the Walking dead.
I never told because I am transgender. They don't care if we live let alone if we are raped.
I swallowed it. Never telling anybody for years, going to school the next day like I was in a car accident and smiling.
I sometimes attack men in my sleep. My exs always tell me how wild I sleep at night and how they can't touch me when im deep sleeping or I become violent.
I have extreme pstd at times. Fits of paranoia and rage.
I don't trust men. Nor do I think I can ever conventionally date again. I try but I leave or dip...or go m.i.a. i just don't feel connected to me like I once did. Its been so many secual wrongs done to me.
But him making me almost love him and then brutally raping me, was the one sexual trauma to truly do me in.
Even if i like a guy, there's a subliminal voice in my head telling me:
"All men are predators, some just are more good at hiding it"
I never hated my transition until that moment. That sheer terror of my body failing me. The sheer terror of my physical strength changed. The utter hopelessness.
"Damn I made myself a fucking target. I had to be a fucking tranny. I'm weak now and can't even protect myself."
And i don't think I can ever trust any man 100 percent. Maybe...at best...99 percent.
But it has made me lonely and depressive. How do I love again? How do I learn to trust?
I don't want to die without finding true love but at this progression...im be an old trans woman with mad cats. Bitter and jaded, seeing the world as evil.
I used to be so carefree. Now I trust nothing.
How do I get a piece of the old me back?
How do I move on?
The memories being like movies. I can see all the details.
 Im ready to heal. 
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2020.09.28 02:21 tsinnyc30 *Tw* *nsw* (trans woman, 30) I don't know how to be close to men anymore when I think about it all. (Vivid, candid, and graphic)

tw nsw rape/child sexual abuse. I write in a way thats very vivid, thats how the images in my mind work. Maybe its also because I am a writer, and it is hella drilled into us about details. All about the details. I know this can upset some people. So there is the warning.
I was a child of sexual abuse. Which made my rape at 23 worse. Much worse.
When I was 5, I was in foster care. I was a super feminine acting boy. (I am a trans woman now). My foster brothers and male figures never used to play with me. Saying things like:
"Don't you want to play with the girls, sissies don't like sports"
"Take ya gay, useless ass on somewhere" They would always leave me 
In came Carl. He always included me. He was 16/17 and he was amazing at first. He let me play super Nintendo with him. He took me to the park. He snuck me candy like Reese cups, when my Grandma told me no. I loved him. Growing up with my twin in foster care, I felt abandoned. Because I was a feminine boy, i felt doubly abandoned.
 He started asking me if I wanted to cuddle with him at night. My grandma was tired and he was always so nice to me, I don't even think she had a second thought about it. The first few sleep overs with Carl was beautiful. He would just hold me. He would tell me scary stories, then I would run to the bathroom in the dark, running back to his bad shaking. He would get me cupcakes. He would hold me, and tell me how he loved me. Until one night, it changed. He smelled funny to me, the-now-gorgeous-familar smell of Marijuana. He told me he wanted to show me a secret game. The games of men. Not knowing any better, I said show me. I loved and trusted him at 5. He was the big brother I always wanted...replacing the abandoned feeling I felt at my parents. He kissed me. He had vitiligo, and a pink spot that was so unique on the corner of his lips on his right side. I remeber the feeling of his third degree burned hands on my body. His mother tortured him and locked him in the closet for weeks on end in the Bronx. He had cigarette burns all over his body. He was still attractive. Beautiful hazel eyes. Brown skin like mines. Full pink lips. He was a boxer, he turned the hands his mother tried to take from him into weapons that made the street nickname him "Mean Machine", with how savagely he would fight guys on the street. He was also a child of sex abuse, once the system found him at 7, and placed him in group homes, which later, in my teenage years when I found out, made me totally forgave him. He did love me, even though he hurt me, but ultimately as a late teenager, he was just reliving a cycle. It does not excuse him, but compared to my rape at 23, I can forgive Carl. 
He pulled his pants down and put my tiny hands on his bigger genitalia. That was all we did the first time. He called me pretty.
"You really look like a little girl with ya long curly hair and bambi eyes". 
He orgasmed and because it didn't feel bad, I didn't see it as bad. It was just a game.
He then grabbed me softly and forced me to look at him. 
"You can't tell. If you tell, I will die. You don't want me to die right? If you tell, I will be gone and you will have nobody to play with, I will be killed horribly. This is our secret game. Only us. Okay?"
I was heartbroken. I let out a high pitch shrill cry. As I clang to him and repeated:
"Puleazhh don't die...please don't die. Please don't die...i lub you."
He held me again and we fell asleep.
The game was simple at first, just touching, but quickly it progressed.
 The 4th time I saw him, he put whip cream on himself. "I have a treat for you. If you play our secret game well, you will get a reward. You have to lick it off" 
So I did. I remember the smell of him. His just turned into a man pheromones plugging my noise. The sweat of his skin, and the sweetness of the whip cream. I gagged horribly. But he told me i was doing a Good job even though it was barely fitting. I remember his fluid on my face.
He wiped us both off and got a big ass bag of candy out his closet. Again...the behavior was painted as something good by him.
 (Im legit unnerved even though I can't help writing so candidly. To do that to a child, to lie and use manipulation is utterly insidious. To use my emotions, that he should have protected.....it id fucking gross. Gross. A 5 year old. What was sexy about me, I still occasionally peed the bed, I was dirty from always climbing and exploring things, etc...but then its not about that. But its just....ugh. I know he picked me because I was feminine and because I was a loner by the nature of what I am, a transgender individual.) This went on for months. His "you are so beautiful like a little princess", his cuddles, his playfulness. I loved it. Even the sex acts we did, i didn't mind because it was not violent nor did it hurt at that point. It was definitely uncomfortable/ weird and there was no sexual thrill for me. The only thrill was for me to please the brother I loved. If it pleased him, I was happy with that. I had turned 6 and a week later he brought me upstairs. He smelt like straight alcohol. He kissed me aggressively. "I missed my princess" His aggressiveness was scaring me. He had never acted that way before. "Ima go to De-lores. Goodnight. You being weird. (my adopted mom/ I call her grandma too). 
"No...u can't leave yet. You don't miss me?"
He pinned me down, as I yelled for him to let me go. He placed his hand over my mouth and nose, until I almost couldn't breathe and thrashed in the bed. He bent me over and tried to penetrate me, but I was wayyyyyy to small for that. So it never went in, but it was sooo painful. The edges of my hole, burned from the friction of him desperately tryna penetrate me......
He let me down on the cream color carpet of his room as I cried and hit him.
"U HURTED ME...CARL! YOU HURTED MY BUTT. YOU HURTED ME!" HE HUGGED ME AS I HEARD WHAT SOUNDED LIKE A WHISTLE NEAR THE STAIRS LEADING TO THE SECOND FLOOR. 
He placed me in the upstairs bathroom.
"If anybody asks why you up here, tell them you were using the bathroom. And im sorry. Im sorry. You forgive me. I'll make it up to you. I promise. Say you forgive me...please."
"I...forgived...u...." 
I said wiping snot away.
A week later. My grandma sat me down. She asked if anyone was touching us. She looked evil though. I know she would never hurt me, but I loved Carl like family. She had hell and brimstone in her irises, and she got into one of her righteous rants, where she said she would kill for me, kill for my brother, nobody would hurt us.
I don't know if she meant it, but she scared me into silence. I don't blame her. Its hard even bringing those topics up without emotion. But I didn't want Carl to die. So I shut up. At 6, I shut up. I didn't want him to die. And her words made what he said reality in my head.
I never went to him anymore though after my Grandma's talk and him tryna penetrate me. I never let him get me alone. He would try to bribe me with food, candy, video games, begging, clothes, money...but i never went.
He went to Juvie a few months later for stabbing a boy in the face over street wars.
 Life was normal until 11. In fourth grade, I was taking a NYS official test, I was answering a question about the Native American indigenous to NY state and boom: (There were two paintings in the upstairs hallway. My grandma had a picture of a Native man, with striking features, in a swamp, grabbing a snake. It was next to a picture of a black girl playing double dutch. That question connected back to that picture) 
It all played out in my mind like a movie. I didn't even realize I had suppressed it that much. I fought back tears and (I work well in stress, idk why but I do), I got a 97%.
 After that day I became hypersexual. When I think about it, I always was....touching boys and girls. Kissing girls and boys, playing house and being the wife. Always too fucking touchy and in people's personal space. But I guess at 11, puberty hit me full force and the idea of sex became something constant in me. Before that it was all mimicry of what happened to me. At 11, these thoughts entered me and would not leave. I wanted real sex after that moment. It is hell to be hypersexual at 11. My southern-upbrung Grandma was definitely not ready for that. Then my thoughts were about boys. I was consumed with them. Especially older men. Taking my friend in the closet and telling him I love him, while I pull his penis out and offer him a blow job. 
"...ok...ok...idk..but if its you...ok"
 I started fucking myself with things. The ends of a big screw driver with a soft silicon handle. An ugly yellow toy banana I found at Family Dollars. Fingers. It was like older men knew I was in a heat, I didn't want. I would masturbate like 7 times a day. It was never enough. It was all consuming. An older man who liked me gave me a dildo, he never had sex with me though. We would just talk about how it felt when I penetrate myself. He would stutter and cum to my stories. (I lose myself in good anal sex. I still do, I dissassociate in a good way, the noise of the world falls away and all I am in those moments are a body, feeling. There is no analyzing life, or existential crises. There is not a thousand thoughts in my head. No ptsd or bpd or bipolaor depression or all those mental illness therapists told me I had directly and not so directly) This feeling of shame came when I couldn't stop the thoughts. I was something bad and deviant. My thoughts were deviant, so I locked them up tightly. Even though they were ever present Carl came out of juvie/prison when I was 12. His 6 pack all those years ago had turned into an 8 pack. His slender, toned teen body, had grown into a young man's body. I was drawn to him. He felt indebted to me. 
I remember at 12, when of his hood friends used to flirt with me. Nothing crazy, just a little flirtatious. Always tryna wrestle me. Always tryna get my attention.
I came home one afternoon to him surprising me, him agitated.
"Jay is fucking with you D?" "No he is cool" "Lemme know cuz I will end any nigga for you. You hear me...any of them. You mines. You hear me!" 
My grandma sat on her bed smiling. Like aww look at the older brother being protective.
It wasn't protection though. He still felt like i belonged to him some way even though he never made anymore moves. He also felt guilty.
He was always giving me stuff. Clothes. Food. Money. Anything. It could have been his last.
I would watch him shower. He would leave the door open slightly. I would peek and look at his naked body, until my mind went crazy in heat. One Night, he left his shirt on the floor as he showered. I had a small t-shirt on and these too tight underwear. On the same cream color floor where he tried to penetrate me, i pentrated myself with that, ugly yellow banana, inhaling the intoxicating smell of his shirt. I was so into it, I didn't feel his eyes on me. 
He was watching me smell his shirt and fuck myself.
 He was hard and staring when I came on his rug. "We can't do that nomore. What i did was wrong....but fuck...you looked so sexy....still with the soft skin and big bambi eyes." "Fuck all that...i want you to fuck me..." "What's gotten into you...you used to be so innocent and sweet. We don't have to. I will always be be ya side. You still sexy though God. Even more sexy." "I don't know how to handle what you exposed to me. I want dick in me all the time. 24/7. I dream about it. I day dream about it. I fantasize about it. Please Carl, fuck me...please" "Im too big and people in the house and...." 
I got up knocking all the shit off his dresser. There's a rage in me, a darkness. A need. Impulsivity. Like every emotion is competing for best actress.
I started crying in pure fucking frustration. 
"So you could try to fuck me at 6, you pedo, but 12 is too old? Fuck you nigga. I hate what you did to me. You made me so fucking weird and now!!!!! You don't want to FUCKING continue. I hate you. Fucking die."
He hugged me like when I was little.
"You went me that bad? To finally have me truly take ya virginity. Wait a little longer okay. But look at me...clearly I'm excited. Just wait...ok? Sex starves D might be the seseries. (Him referring to me at 5/6 as sexy 🤢🤮, when I think about that disgusting convo) I pouted. He gave me 300 from his drug business to shut up. 
After that, every time he would pass me, he would feel on me. I'd wear little t shirts where my nipples poked out and pajamas too small, so my little butt could poke out.
He would touch me and kiss me in rushing. He was never home, always in the street. 
At 13, he died from a gunshot wound to the heart. He never did get to fuck me.
(Sometimes, when im depressed, and analytical, I think if all that really did propel me on my way to my life now. I pass as a woman and live an alright life, even with the trauma, but my Mom says when things like that happen to us so young, they become apart of our psyche. Not to say I would have been a sterotypical masculine male....but is this why I like being called princess and good girl, is this one of the reasons why I so desperately clung to womanhood, is this why, especially young, all my sexual fantasies were of me being penetrated by older, well hung, developed men. How much of it is my true nature, how much was groomed into me. The choking, the hypersexuality in my youth, the crazy sex adventures I found myself in. I don't think about it often. Its one of those questions that if I let it sit too long in me, will undo me. I love my transition (mostly) but that thought is scary. To think that, the person I am today can be attributed, at the least, slightly, to my childhood trauma)
The real trauma happened at 23. When i was 23, I dated this guy named Jason for 6 months. I had just started transistioning for a few months. He took me out. I met his close friends. I met his cousins. The sex was good, he was sweet and passionate. I felt like i was falling for him. Lucky. Special
I was a new trans woman, and most guys arent always so kind to not so passable trans women.
He treated me like a woman. How I always wanted to be treated.
Up until the night I told him no.
We had went out on a night on the town. The place is near west 4th street in NYC. It is called the Fat Black Pussy Cat. He bought me these bomb ass nachos and like 13 tequila shots. My stomach was queasy and I couldn't keep my head from spinning.
I get home and boom, sleep.
His body weight and his massive hands on me woke me up. (5'9 150 to his 6'5 250 pure muscled body). He was an athlete and he had went to prison. I never saw it as a red flag because it was a white collar crime.
He wanted sex.
I said no. I'm nauseous. In the morning bae.
It took my brain 10 minutes to catch up to what was going on.
My laughs and his stoic face.
My giggles and "stop playing Jason, in the morning im ride it good daddy." fall on a face that was determined.
His hand on my throat squeezing tighter and tighter.
When I realized what was happening (i'm also a childhood survivor as well). I fought. Two rights to his eyes and nose. He laughed. I ran for my kitchen, and picked up a knife but he slammed me.
Those first few moments were straight anxiety. Me, running full speed over my couch; him catching my leg and my face hitting the floor.
Me, head butting him right in his lip. I sunk my teeth into his shoulder blade. He slammed my body face first into my living room wall.
I remember the sound of glass breaking as he slammed my back against my glass coffee table. Bits of glass, like glass splinters, on the side of my spine.
I remember the anxious feeling turning into a doomed one, when my strength and stamina didn't match up to his. Even just 10 months on estrogen shots and anti testestorone pills had made me weaker. Like 50 percent weaker
His laughter in my ear as he said:
"I like girls with heart, ya are more satisfying to break"
After 20 minutes he got tired. Not physically tired. Tired of this fight in me.
I was on my last wind. Every nerve in my body was in fire from fighting with him so long. I grew up fighting and winning as a feminine boy. But as a trans women, on hrt, a high dosage, its just not the same.
I remember my teeth cutting into my jaw as he slammed my head into the kitchen tiles, the hemoglobin left the taste of iron in my head.
He punched my ribs, knocking the wind out of me. Stomped my right hand. I just laid there, as the reality of my situation set in.
Im not getting away.
"Isn't this why you transistioned...to entice men. Didn't you do this to become mines"
I dissassociated as he choked me until i couldn't breathe. Color flashed in front of my eyes. I focused on my cat in a corner, a white ball, like this had happened to her before . I didn't want to die from fighting for the right over my body. So I mentally left.
I focused on a dustball under my stove
I stared at a dead sparrow on my kitchen window ledge I had never noticed. I imagined I was that bird. Dead. If I'm dead, I can't feel and if I can't feel, this is not happening to me.
His kisses on my shoulder....and his "there's my baby girl", was worse than the rape or beating. That memory lives under my skin. His attempted intimacy daring rape. How....how....
It makes me so mad and digusted. Like I wanna take my nails to my skin to kill that fucking memory.
I wanted him to be evil. You are a fucking monster, fucking show it, you disgusting, deviant, criminally sadistic bastard. If you wanna be evil.
He caressed and kissed my unresponsive body.
Pushing his dick into my dry walls, slightly ripping me.
It was messy because I was not ready nor did I prep. It hurt because he went in dry.
I didn't even scream, as I felt myself tear a little. I just stared....i was death in those moments.
He left me there saying "I love you Daisy". I stayed on the ground for 30 minutes. No thoughts. I just stared. My kitty Carmen licked my face and I cried so horribly, stirred back to reality by her. She left white hairs on my chin as she turned into a ball under my neck.
He left anal fissures in me and a hemorrhoid. It hurt to use the bathroom for 10 days. He had fractured the bone below my right index finger. My left eye was filled with blood. When he slammed my head in the kitchen, blood filled into it. I looked like an extra in the Walking dead.
I never told because I am transgender. They don't care if we live let alone if we are raped.
I swallowed it. Never telling anybody for years, going to school the next day like I was in a car accident and smiling.
I sometimes attack men in my sleep. My exs always tell me how wild I sleep at night and how they can't touch me when im deep sleeping or I become violent.
I have extreme pstd at times. Fits of paranoia and rage.
I don't trust men. Nor do I think I can ever conventionally date again. I try but I leave or dip...or go m.i.a. i just don't feel connected to me like I once did. Its been so many secual wrongs done to me.
But him making me almost love him and then brutally raping me, was the one sexual trauma to truly do me in.
Even if i like a guy, there's a subliminal voice in my head telling me:
"All men are predators, some just are more good at hiding it"
I never hated my transition until that moment. That sheer terror of my body failing me. The sheer terror of my physical strength changed. The utter hopelessness.
"Damn I made myself a fucking target. I had to be a fucking tranny. I'm weak now and can't even protect myself."
And i don't think I can ever trust any man 100 percent. Maybe...at best...99 percent.
But it has made me lonely and depressive. How do I love again? How do I learn to trust?
I don't want to die without finding true love but at this progression...im be an old trans woman with mad cats. Bitter and jaded, seeing the world as evil.
I used to be so carefree. Now I trust nothing.
How do I get a piece of the old me back?
How do I move on?
The memories being like movies. I can see all the details.
 Im ready to heal. 
submitted by tsinnyc30 to adultsurvivors [link] [comments]


2020.09.27 21:57 Halls_of_Durin Aboriginal Archives: The Life, Death, and Neglect of Justice for Lynette "Norma" Daley

This is the first in a collection of true crime events, by themselves uniquely brutal and investigations themselves unquestionable, yet quietly set aside by the local public servants - be the police, justice workers, and others.
Lynette Daley
Ms. Lynette "Norma" Daley was born 16.7.1977. Much of her early life has not been reported. She was raised by her mother Thelma and step-father Gordon, a happy, adventures tom-boy who enjoyed tussling with her brothers, climbing trees, and going on adventures. She had dreams of competing in the Olympics. Yet, by 15 she struggled with school, at 16 dropped out, and fell in with a rough crowd. By 16 she had become pregnant and by the time of her death, at 33, consented for her parents to raise her seven children. Yet, despite struggling with alcohol addiction, she attempted to be engaged in her children's lives. However, between 1998 and 2010 Daley dealt with abusive partners and domestic violence. Up to her last week of life, she made efforts to visit her children and her parents - that final time staying for three days. The day before she died she told her sister about a planned holiday with two acquaintances, who the family considered to be at most social friends.
Her name and details were not public until the inquest into the failure to prosecute her death. Much early reporting refers to her simply as "Norma".
Her Death
Date/Time
Australia Day
26 January 2011 / the early hours of the morning
Ten Mile Beach
The location of the sexual assault and death occurred in Ten Mile Beach. This area is near the Coral Sea, relatively secluded beachhead paralleling A1 well south of Gold Coast, New South Wales. Both the water and the sky are bright blue. There the sand is a moderate strip disappearing under a line of large boulders then thick-standing trees. Now and then are warning signs: DANGER inset on a red circle. No lifesaving service, ringed by unstable cliffs and hemmed by strong currents; this is where Daley died.
The Accused
Adrian Attwater was stated by some reporting to be Daley's boyfriend. He is now 45. His friend, Paul Maris, now 49, may have known Daley as well. On Australia Day 2011 the three left on a camping cum fishing trip, according to both the accused and Daley's family. Attwater, in particular, was known to Daley's family but they were not familiar with him.
The Physical Evidence and the Events
What was discovered on that beach was both blood sodden and burnt. By the time police arrived an hour had elapsed from the 000 call. Daley was cold to the touch, her lips blue, possibly her extremities blanched with bloodloss. Her blood was everywhere, not just covering her legs and congealed in a large clot between her feet but across the sand, the vehicle, a mostly-burned mattress, and the jeans of one of the accused.
A forensic pathologist found vaginal injuries more severe than found in precipitous (traumatic) childbirth.
The sexual acts, said by both men to be consensual, involved Attwater placing his right hand into Daley's vagina. When questioned by police Attwater demonstrated at act by clenching his right hand into a fist. When asked if the act was referred to as "fisting" he replied "Just about, yeah" but denied he did it roughly. Maris also stated the sexual activity occurred by describing it: Attwater "fisted her". During re-interviews Attwater modified that act to using four fingers only to the depth of the base of his thumb in as "fishtail movement". Maris, however, re-enacted a clenched fist in vigorous horizontal movements.
Both men stated that after they reached Black Rock Camping Area, in the dark, late-night or very early morning, Attwater and Daley had sexual activity. After a while, Attwater invited Maris into the back of the vehicle to engage in this sexual activity. Daley was on her hands and knees with her head towards the front of the vehicle. Her track plants were misplaced at this point. Attwater was digitally penetrating Daley. Upon Attwater's instructions, Daley attempted to fellate Maris, but according to Maris he was not aroused or interested. Attwater became aware at this time of blood on his hand, which made it clear it was coming from Daley.
The sexual activity immediately stopped.
Between sustaining the fatal injury and her death Daley attempted to clean herself, rest on an ice-chest, and went for a short drive in the front passenger seat. The men claim she made no statements of pain or discomfort.
Immediately after noticing the blood, Daley went to clean herself in the ocean. On her way out the vehicle she rested for a moment - she sat on top of an ice-chest. Whatever quantity of blood she left was wiped away by Attwater at Maris' request. Maris said Daley had "put blood all over the Esky [ice-chest]."
It seems apparent she would have been bleeding profusely.
Police photographs showed blood had pooled between the back of the chest and the wall of the vehicle; despite efforts, large smears of blood were still evident. They travelled further up the beach. After they parked a second time Daley crawled into the back seat. She had lain there on the mattress, naked, cold, and intoxicated, and continued to bleed out.
Between the time the vehicle was parked and the men returned from attempting to force a new beach access track Attwater and Maris did not communicate with Daley. When they return to the vehicle the accounts differ slightly; Attwater claimed Daley made it to the front seat under her own power. Maris was more uncertain, saying: "I’m not sure whether Adrian put her in the front or if she got in by herself…" As dawn was breaking the vehicle pulled away from the Black Rock Camping Area.
At this time the men discuss the smell. Maris suggested the mattress be disposed of, describing the smell as "... like she might have crapped in the back of the car or something." This, he claimed, is why they stopped after only 1km of the trek and went on to burn the bedding, Daley's bloody bra, and other items. Maris said he burnt the bra because he didn't think Daley would want it anymore. He never asked her. To remove the mattress Maris had to remove the fishing rod holders, open the bonnet, and use the disconnected fuel line to fill a coke bottle with petrol. Everything was replaced and the diesel poured over the mattress and other items; it was then set alight. The track pants were not there. While Maris was doing this, he says Attwater and Daley went for a swim and "to go and clean themselves."
Attwater claimed he did not know Maris intended to burn the materials. When asked about how much blood was on the mattress, Attwater indicated a blood pool about 10cm in diameter; Maris said there was "blood everywhere". Attwater said that around that time Daley appeared to suffer some sort of seizure. He and Maris pulled her from the water. Attwater stated she wasn't breathing and had no pulse, so rolled her into a recovery position. Attwater being CPR while Maris dialled 000. Maris also went to get help from another - a man named Miller, camping nearby.
Miller states they drove back to find a man, wearing jeans, performing CPR on a woman who appeared to have been dragged from the water. Attwater claimed to be naked. Miller went on to say Daley had sand on her face and in her hair. There appeared to be blood coming from her vagina and matted in her public hair. At Maris' request, Miller began CPR. He found her to be cold and hold no pulse. He formed the opinion she was dead but continued to perform compressions as instructed by EMS. Miller noticed a large blood clot directly below her feet. It later had been measured by police to 150mm in diameter.
Before 0700 Maris went to flag down another vehicle. While he did so, Miller voiced his suspicions to ambulance corp.
EMS arrived at 0657. Officers arrived. Police Sergeant McDonald asked Attwater about the identity of the deceased. Attwater produced Daley's Commonwealth Bank keycard from his wallet. Blood smears were found in numerous areas within the vehicle. Those and burnt samples were collected.
The Autopsy
An autopsy found Daley died from blunt force trauma to her genital tract and had suffered horrific internal and external injuries after a violent sex act. Moderate to severe force tore and/or overstretched the vaginal lining which led to blood loss and shock; a circulatory crisis with low blood pressure and inadequate tissue and organ perfusion lead to organ failure and death. Daley's BAC was reported as between 0.303% (femora) and 0.352% (vitreous humour) - which are fatal ranges. There were no features of drowning.
“Blunt force genital tract trauma” was concluded as the primary cause of death – blood loss and hypovolaemic shock was the mechanism of death. Severe alcohol intoxication exacerbated the impact of blood loss. The kidneys and brain were pale supporting blood loss and low blood pressure.
Numerated injuries were as follows:
The time between the injuries upon Daley's person and her death are difficult to determine. The decline could have been from an hour to as many as four hours. Minutes before death she would have been noticeably paler and sweating, as well as unable to walk without aid. The injury while examined by an obstetrician and gynaecologist expert (gyno) advised that the tearing itself was unusual in “normal” consensual penile-vaginal intercourse only having been recorded in two instances, both with life-threatening blood loss and needed emergency surgery. The gyno suggested Daley sustained a torn artery producing raid and sustained blood loss.
The coroner's conclusions, with Daley named as Norma :
...I am inclined to accept as accurate Mr Maris’ demonstration of a vigorous punching motion as the most likely explanation for the injuries having been sustained.
Mr Attwater does not claim that Norma gave verbal consent to his actions. In the circumstances, in my view, Norma would not have had the capacity to meaningfully consent to the sexual acts that caused the injury that led to her death and Mr Attwater was not entitled to interpret her lack of resisting as consent....
I also conclude that it is more likely than not that Norma would have felt pain as a result of the injuries and have communicated this immediately.
Even if one accepts that there was no immediate complaint and that the men believed the blood seen was only menstrual blood, which I don’t, it is inconceivable that Norma would not have known that she was injured and bleeding unnaturally. It is also unbelievable that she would not have communicated this to the person responsible for causing it.
I conclude that both men are dishonestly denying any such complaint was made because they fear it reflects adversely on them.
...She was dearly loved by her family and she returned that affection. I know she is sadly missed by her children, her siblings, her parents and her extended family. I offer them all my sincere condolences.
The court expresses its contempt and disgust for the callous disregard for her welfare shown by her supposed friends Messrs Attwater and Maris.
...
The fatal injuries were accidentally inflicted during sexual activity undertaken at a time when it is likely Norma was too intoxicated to be able to meaningfully consent to such activity. The person responsible for the injury failed to respond to it by seeking medical attention for Norma even though she was because of her circumstances and condition incapable of obtaining that for herself.
In my own view the anus laceration, while not one to bleed profusely, would have caused considerable discomfort. Walking or sitting would have been difficult. Even at the outset of four hours by the time Miller arrived to render aid Daley could have been dead for an elapsed period.
Media Coverage
The Daily Examiner headlined the assault as a "‘Wild sex’ led to woman’s death" in 2014. The News.com.au May 10, 2016 report was headlined, “Campaign for justice over death of Lynette Daley, left to bleed after ‘wild sex.'” Much of the early coverage was tabloid based. With the terminology used the News.com.au article was found to breach the Standards of Practice of the Press Council, stating that "...the Council considers that the heading and the first paragraph misleadingly and unfairly suggested Ms Daley had consented to sexual acts immediately before her death." Even non-Australian media, like the Guardian in 2016, headlined: "Death that shocked a town: case reopens on woman who died after sex with two men on remote beach".
The Investigation
The NSW Director of Public Prosecutions Lloyd Babb withdrew both charges for Attwater and Maris in 2012 before they reached a committal hearing. After an inquest in 2014 State Coroner Michael Barnes referred the men to the DDP again, stating that a case was likely but Babb refused to prosecute them.
"It disturbed me that following the coroner's recommendation and with the material that was contained in the coroner's brief the decision was made by the DPP not to prosecute on any charges," said Robert Tumeth, Aboriginal Legal Service lawyer who represented Daley's family at the 2014 inquest.
Additional Criminal History
Maris' violent history consists of:
Attwater's criminal history includes:
Failure to Prosecute
27 January 2011 police charged Attwater with manslaughter and Maris with being an accessory after the fact.
2012 DPP withdrew both charges, stating there was no proof of intent to harm.
2014, Inquest State Coroner Michael Barnes referred the men to the DPP, stating they likely had a case to answer. Again, Babb refused to charge them.
February 2016 Babb was asked to review his decision by ­Attorney-General Gabrielle Upton.
21 June 2016 Independent legal adviser reviews case, leads DPP to prosecute
Four Corners
ABC’s Four Corners program covered the story in 2016, leading to national attention
Pleas and Trial22 June 2016 Attwater and Maris were charged
2 Aug 2016, Grafton local court Attwater and Maris appeared, granted bail
2 December 2016, Supreme Court Attwater pled not guilty to manslaughter and aggravated sexual assault. Maris pled not guilty to being an accessory to both counts.
1 Aug 2017, Supreme Court Trail commences, Attwater and Maris on dock together.
A short clip from a police interview with Mr Attwater was played in court..."It was my f****** hand," Mr Attwater [discussing the act] could be heard saying in the recording.
And later, "girls will be girls and boys will be boys."
6 September 2017, Supreme Court Jury deliberated for 32 minutes - both Attwater and Maris were convicted. Attwater found guilty of manslaughter and aggravated sexual assault - 19-year sentence, with a non-parole period of 15 years and three months and Maris found guilty of hindering the collection of evidence and aggravated sexual assault - nine-year sentence, with a non-parole period of six years and nine months.
Now
25 March 2020 Attwater appeals conviction with NSW Court of Criminal Appeal
Between 2012 and 2013, indigenous women were hospitalised for non-fatal family violence assault at 34.2 times the rate of non-indigenous women.
Between 2008 and 2012, in New South Wales, Queensland, Western Australia, South Australia and the Northern Territory, the death rate from homicide for indigenous people was seven to eight times higher than for non-indigenous people.
Indigenous people are 3% of the Australian population.
Additional Sources:
  1. Aboriginal woman raped to death but white suspects yet to face trial five years later
  2. Daley family confronts the alleged killer
  3. Inquest into the death of Norma [currently unavailable 27 May 2020]
  4. Lynette Daley's death: NSW DPP under scrutiny over unprosecuted killing
  5. Lynette Daley manslaughter trial: boyfriend jailed for at least 14 years
  6. Two victims, no justice
  7. Lynette Daley's killer appealing verdict
  8. Lynette Daley: Family press for justice as Ten Mile Beach victim is named for first time
  9. Wauchope man one of two charged over Lynette Daley's death
  10. Four Corners: Callous Disregard
submitted by Halls_of_Durin to TrueCrime [link] [comments]


2020.09.27 20:11 Kindly-Quit Speaking of my marriage not being what I thought it would be...

First of all, thanks to everyone who read about my marriage being completely different than I thought it would be!
I realized I might be able to provide some insight into my experience since it’s niche within niche within niche lol.
3 things to unpack about my unusual arrangement:
  1. If you haven’t caught on by now, it’s that my wife is trans. The shock, I know. Anywho- my wife came out 3 years into our seemingly completely straight relationship- we were only boyfriend girlfriend at the time this took place. In my infinite wisdom at the time I burst into mad tears and cried for about 2 minutes before I stopped and asked myself wtf all that emotion was. It’s really overwhelming to suddenly realize your entire life is not going to be what you thought. From little things like calling their name and waking up to their scent in the morning all the way to imagining your life 30 years later with a differently gendered person than you thought- it’s not a small change. It impacts the small to the large, the daily to the large life moments- everything is not what it seems. And it goes against everything you dreamed, everything you were told about- societies expectations etc. That realization was hard on me. I didn’t and still don’t mind the whole “my partner is a different gender” thing, which is the crux of a lot of people here (and I’m sorry I can’t provide answers to that!)- the heart of mine was all the change. I’m a stagnant moldy water person rather than the rushing river my wife is. I like my coffee to my clothes to, you know, my spouses gender- to be the same every day. I have anxiety, and having a daily routine is really helpful. That all went up in flames and I was quite displeased by the idea that I would have to like, change, or whatever. I imagined getting married and my then boyfriend being in a dress and my mind was left with the record scratch you hear in cheesy movies. Boy did I wish I could turn on a different channel right about then... My partner explained that she wanted surgery on her face and on the flappy bits that I quite liked and I was, once again, baffled. I knew next to nothing about trans people and here she was dumping glitter into my brain at warp speed. I needed time to process.
My advice to you all is to take your time thinking and mulling over these things, especially in the beginning. Ask yourself if you really feel upset or are you upset by the change? Are you scared of the change? Why? What’s the reason for your reaction, whatever it may be, and dig around on that. You may find out a lot about yourself.
To make a very long story short I CAN tell you a ton changes. And I can also tell you it’s not that frightening- and I’m a scardycat. It took months to set her up with appointments to doctors, therapy, laser hair removal. Scheduling allotments takes time and waiting weeks before any progress is made. Dressing in women’s clothes took time too, first around the house, then neighborhood, then full time. Growing out hair takes a long time. All these changes are slow. They do happen, but it wasn’t like I imagined where overnight the man I loved was killed. My wife is exactly as she was before hormones and all else in mind and spirit, no one dies. The idea of what you wanted does, but the person remains being who they always were. And although I hate change, I was pleased to find that it was slow enough that I could get comfortable before the next step. She talked me through it all so I wasn’t blindsided with something new. I realized around that time that I hated change but I didn’t hate what she was changing into, and that I wanted her to be the last being I see when I die. So, like a sensible person, I put a ring on that before anyone else could. While I still am surprised by changes, I’ve gotten better at handling them. Maybe this was the universes way of trying to teach me to be a little more flexible in life....or not. F you life, I liked it when it was still!
  1. My wife is a sex worker. Hello to all the people who are, or who’s partners are, involved in that work. My wife does camming and a bit of sugar daddy stuff on the side. I’m sure most people would be repulsed by this, and I certainly had my reservations, but it makes very VERY good money and my wife works less then 15 hours a week. And she makes double what I do easily, the jerk ;) I was scared for her wellbeing but the camming is no contact, and sugar daddies are 1 at a time for a girlfriend experience and I’ve found that I quite like seeing my wife on some rich guys arm. Eat the rich honey (eyyy...euphemism 🍆!), take him for all he’s got and bring me back leftovers from your $200 a plate meal. Yes, that is the trade off. Yes, I’m a slut for food. Everyone wins. I’m not bothered like I thought I would be. I thought I would be upset and felt cheated on etc. but the reality is that it’s all transactional, there’s a lot of safety measures in place (I mean a LOT more than most people would realize) and I don’t feel it comes close to touching our relationship. She’s never been tempted to jump ship for a millionaire (and she has “dated” a few- and I do enjoy living in an expensive apartment and being wined and dined by her through their money). And honestly if she did I’d be pissed but...I mean, millionaires, amiright? But truly- It’s one relationship with strings attached. My marriage to her doesn’t touch that- she can be real with me, and be semi real with the dude who’s paying her. It’s all a large elaborate act on her end with these men. So it doesn’t bother me. Camming wise she’s untouchable to these guys, and makes great money, so it doesn’t feel like cheating at all. Anyone else have spouses in sexwork? I’m interested to see if it’s larger than I thought. I love my wife and I don’t believe the arrangement is super unusual, but those w ho find out are shocked lol.
  2. We have an open marriage. Through the sex work I realized my love for my wife is so strong that I don’t think others can touch it, and her for me. We are each one experience in a sea of 7 billion people. To limit our experiences to just us two seemed, to me, like cutting a rose from a bush just because you like it. My marriage isn’t shackling my wife, or possessive. My marriage is a commitment to hold her first and foremost in my heart, spirit, and actions. And for her to do the same to me. Fucking other people, going on dates, and getting to know others as friends with benefits don’t even come CLOSE to what my wife has with me and me with her. And should we find that there’s feelings for someone, we talk about it and close that relationship down. Most of ours are flings that we see two or three times and move on. We learn about that person, share experiences and mindsets, pick their brains on the topics they are interested in and then set them back out into the world. Think of it like a library. Each person is a book to gain knowledge and perspective from in many different ways. I want to read my wife from front to back cover. Every one else I don’t mind peeking into a chapter or two. There’s the difference. Same for her. We then discover new things about ourselves and what we like in bed, what we like as topics, and what we might jump into for hobbies and have WONDERFUL conversations about all of those. It’s like cherry picking the best from each person and bringing back a bit of it to display for your wife to go ohhhhh that’s so cool we should to XYZ! It’s brought us so much close together. Plus if you have a awkward sex experience it’s hilarious the next day to explain what went down.
So yes, I’ve got an open marriage to a transgender woman who is involved in sex work. The trade off is fancy food because I’m a simp for expensive pasta. It’s unusual. It’s so unusual I don’t see it despite hunting for it to swap stories. SO, if you are in one or two of these camps tell me about yours! Tell me what you like, what you don’t like, tell me how you feel! And if you aren’t, tell me what you find weird about my arrangement or what you couldn’t do or why! Give me perspectives! Give me interesting stories! Hand them over! :)
submitted by Kindly-Quit to mypartneristrans [link] [comments]


2020.09.25 23:36 dourdan Rise of Hellion ch5: Norcal

Rise of Hellion ch5: Norcal

Rise of Hellion ch5: Norcal (Barry Pepper fanart fiction inspiration)
previously:
https://www.reddit.com/BarryPeppecomments/ip50pl/rise_of_hellion_ch4_into_the_flame_barry_peppe

I was pregnant, that much was certain. (The influx of hormones explained a few moments that I'd rather forget.) It all started when Anya and I hitched a ride to Seattle with a van full of stoners, heading to a music festival. My metal legs were in decent, usable shape although the straps had seen better days. I was struggling to keep up with Anya’s able-bodied, human legs, but I was grateful to have her as my friend.
She walked with a sweet, sensual confidence; something that made people want to trust her, to know her. Along the way, we got free cigarettes, food and even money. We met the sexy college-age stoners (three men and two women) in a truck stop in Oregon. I never even had to talk.
I was offered copious amounts of pills, cheap vodka and weed. I tried to take just enough to relax and sleep my way to Washington. But through it all, I started to remember more and more details of my encounter with Noah. Piece by piece, each moment came back to me in the form of the Flower Child (my neon glowing guardian angel) leading me through a series of rusty metal doors. Each door led me to a different part of that night’s conversation. Apparently, I had told Noah about my past sexual abuse, running away from home, and getting my legs blown off: total cringe.
"I feel like I was put on this earth to serve powerful men," said the drunk, past version of me.
"Powerful men?" Noah said with a chuckle. "Like congressmen and shit? Good thing there are no powerful men here, just a bunch of screw ups and good-old-boys." Noah put his arm around me, holding me close. "And you, our newest teammate."
"Really?"
"You were great out there," he said taking another drag off the cigarette. "A real assassin."
I cupped his face, with the biggest smile. "What would you say if I kissed you?" Before Noah could reply I brushed my mouth to his. "Sorry." I was giggling uncontrollably.
Noah smiled sweetly, placing a finger to my cheek. "Do I make you nervous?”
I bit my lip, lost in his eyes. “I feel like a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs."
A jolt of pain blinked me back to reality as my head smashed into the roof of the van. We were flying, falling, eventually crashing. I was already in the back, comfortably wrapped in a blanket, so I was able to punch my way out of the back window. Looking around I could see the van had fallen down a steep cliff, landing on a beach. "Anya!" I shouted, hoping to God she was alive.
I struggled to my feet which was difficult to do with my left leg falling off. Suddenly, two arms grabbed me, pulling me backward towards the water. I tried to scream, but was too injured to fight back, especially when my captor started to pick up speed. This was a human, flesh and blood but he was moving as fast as a car.
So, I just buried my face against the abductor's chest to protect myself from the g-force. We landed on a wooden surface with a thud. I expected to hit my head, but the man carried me like a bride, placing me down carefully on a hospital bed. When I caught my breath, I sat up just enough to look around; somehow, we were on a boat. "Did you just walk on water?" I asked with a forced chuckle.
"Just one of my many superpowers," replied a familiar voice.
"Tony!" I shouted. My body filled with energy, I sprang up, throwing my arms around him.
"I miss you too, kid." Tony returned the embrace, looking over my shoulder. "Yo, Axel."
"Axel's here?" I heard his footsteps before I heard his voice.
"Is the target secure?"
"Affirmative," Tony replied.
"The target?" I asked, suddenly feeling less homesick for my TAC friends.
"Just a formality," Axel said as he patted my arm. "We're glad to have you back."
"Me or just my bionic legs?" Both were still attached but holding on by a thread.
"You would be technically correct," Axel said with a friendly smile. "Your legs are lo-jacked. I'm surprised the Lifers let you keep them." Our fearless leader went to the front of the boat, steering us in the direction of a very noticeable helicopter. "We tracked you to the artic base, that was why we sent the unit in after the battery.”
"Um, what?" I felt like I'd been stabbed in the heart. I was the reason why Noah was in trouble, and possibly dead.
"TAC wanted it's property back, but we wanted you back.”
"Who's we?" The people who love me? Was that what Axel was going to say?
"I for one, and certainly Tony." Axel made it to the pickup point, signaling for the chopper to lower the ropes to attach to my bed.
"Yes, sir," Tony said, taking a seat on my hospital bed. together we were raised up to the cargo hold. Upon reaching the landing pad, the door shut.
I could see where a single pilot was controlling every aspect of the process. The roar of the engine was so loud, speech was impossible, as I found out the hard way. "Where are we going?" I shouted as loud as I could.
"What?" Tony replied.
My throat was already sore, and I didn’t feel like repeating myself. Instead, I simply rested my body while blinking tears from my eyes.
Tony took it upon himself to hold me close, rocking me in his arms like a frightened child. "We're headed to Vancouver, you'll love it there, I promise. I'll be with you every step of the way."
I sobbed, burying my face in Tony's shoulder. Grateful that I somehow heard his words of kindness over the roar of the wind.
He held my hand, giving my fingers a squeeze. I could imagine he was thinking about all the horrible things Anya and Baron had done, how I must be crying out of fear or even pain. He would never in a million years, guess why my heart was broken.
Tony's breath was trembling. Was he cold? Or did he truly care? The very idea seemed so sweet. And that was why I kissed him.
Tony closed his eyes and smiled. Maybe he silently mouthed my name, I wasn’t sure, but I’d like to think so. I placed my hand to his chest. He was wearing body armor, so moved my hand lower, to his belt. I knew the pilot could see us, possibly even heard us, but I didn’t care.
Tony could have stopped me but he didn’t. I’d had sex with beautiful boys like Tony before. He was so open and gentle, possibly a virgin. The idea made me want him even more; I wanted to be the one to make the robot-superhero-boy into a real man.
We held on to each other even after landing in Canada. "I'll give you two a moment," the pilot shouted from his seat. There was other stuff to unload from the back, giving us time to make ourselves presentable.
"Was I your first,” I asked with all the flirty seduction of a teen prostitute who watched too many Disney movies.
Tony laughed awkwardly as he helped me off the cargo ramp. “I still can’t believe that just happened.”
“Yeah,” I muttered. I was a slut; I was a whore, but at least I was the one in control. “I just needed to feel something.”
“Love?” Was he being sarcastic? I couldn’t tell. Yet in that moment he sounded human.
“Sometimes I feel like I don’t know what love is.” Looking into Tony’s dark eyes, I knew my plan; I would learn to love Tony, I would give Dr. Toki the super soldier baby that she wanted.
Which brings me to today.
It had been a little over a week of working out, eating great food and spending time on the beach. I had been feeling a little sick, so I was given a pregnancy test in the form of a urine strip. It was the kind that was supposed to show either one or two lines. It showed nothing, as if I had no female hormones at all. (Apparently that was not uncommon for females who survived trauma.) I was told to return to training; weights, cardio etc. The Vancouver TAC base was a nice enough facility but there was no outdoor gym, not even a track. I would work out with Tony, competitively trying to stay on the treadmill longer (I'd given up on trying to out lift him.)
During our downtime, we were watching cartoons while drinking weird Gatorade mixtures, when suddenly the local news reported a breaking story. “What the hell?” I groaned. “What could be so important that they had to interrupt syndicated reruns of Bob’s Burgers?”
“A team of heavily armored individuals have been attacking parked vehicles in the downtown area.” The camera zoomed in on a masked man wearing Noah’s armor. Was this Noah, was he alive?
I gripped my chest, sinking my nails in to my skin. Was I high? Was I dreaming? I could feel my heart pounding right before I fell forward.
Tony rushed to my side, and stayed with me even as I started vomiting. I went limp in his arms as he carried me to the medical ward.
That was when I was given a blood test, followed by an ultrasound. I was unquestionably pregnant. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep but no sleep came. The last thing I remember was holding Tony's hand.
"Does Tony have access to the third floor of the sub level?" the voice came from everywhere and nowhere.
“What?” The words made no sense given the vast number of buildings on the base. There could even be a sub-terrain lower level I didn’t even know about.
“Never mind,” the echo said with a groan.
I awoke gasping for air. I was no longer in a bed but rather on a rooftop in the pouring rain. I wanted to pull my legs close, in to a fetal position. If only to stay warm, but my prosthetics were gone. “Fuck my life.”
In the distance I could see a human figure; a man walking a large animal, like a lion or a bear. "Noah?" I said in a whisper. What was he? Did he take me from the clinic? Was he going to kill me?
The human figure let go of the animal, before taking a few steps back. The animal made a deep, sickly, inhuman sound but did not advance further. The human groaned, still standing out of view. He moved his hand, striking the creature in the back. The sound was sickening as metal tore through skin.
"Noah, please stop!" I crawled to the injured creature. Clearly it didn’t want to hurt me or anyone. I reached out my hand, the way I would for a stray dog. But once I was close enough to see the creature’s face I screamed. “Oh, dear God.” Even through all the armor and mutilation, I could never forget his blue eyes. “Noah, what did they do to you?”
Noah had deep scars all over his body; arms, shoulders, and back. On his neck was a collar held on by two spikes; one in his throat and another in his spine. The wounds were fresh, he had been bleeding very badly. It was clear he wanted to speak but couldn’t.
“It’s ok, I’m here.” It wasn’t ok, nothing about this was ok. I reached for his hand, but Noah shook his head. There were large metal braces on his hands, strange black spikes that made him look like the Marvel comic character Venom (or a demon from hell.)
Since it was clear Noah had no intention of attacking me, I stayed where I was. But if the restrained beast was Noah, then who was the standing figure? It had to be the infamous Feng, sent on behalf of Kitsune after Anya and I went missing. That made sense. And now I was completely sure I was going to die.
Noah opened his mouth, struggling for breath, “You- will- prevail.” He coughed up blood, his body convulsing. “I’ll never forget you. I could never forget you.”
I wanted so badly to hold him. Maybe I could save him or at least die trying. “I love you…” my breath trailed off. I wanted to vomit or at least scream. What kind of person falls in love with someone they knew for a single night? This isn’t a fucking Disney movie! Yet here I was. I wanted to die.
Noah swallowed hard, causing his throat to spasm as he spoke, “I will die loving you.”
The words cut me to my core. I screamed into the rain, as the standing figure pulled on the leash, dragging Noah away. All that was left of that moment was a streak of blood along the concrete roof.
I rocked back and forth crying. ‘Who was that? Where were my legs?’
"Hard to tell who you can trust," a male voice said from behind me.
"What's stopping me from hurling myself off this roof?”
“I don’t really know,” the voice replied. “The story would continue; Noah, Anya, Baron, etc. It would just be the end for you.”
“Am I the battery? Is this some kind of DaVinci code shit?" I started to scoot backward if only to adjust my weight, and immediately fell off a ledge.
My guardian angel grabbed my arm. “Hey, be careful.” It was the Flower Child but he seemed older, stronger, with a face weathered by time. "Maybe later, after you get rid of the passenger in your womb."
"Are you saying I should get an abortion first?" I asked sarcastically, through tears.
Flower Child chuckled as he took a seat at my side. "You're welcome for saving your life, Miss Nicki.”
"What are you?" I violently jerked my arm away. "Are you even real? Or are you some kind of mash up of every guy I've ever fucked?"
My emotional outburst was met with laughter. "You mean I'm your dream date? Am I your Ken, Barbie girl?"
I shook my head. "You're imaginary. I'm just talking to myself."
"Do you remember the Junior nationals, when you won your first medal?"
"No,” I replied quickly. I remembered; I just didn’t want to continue the conversation with my imaginary friend.
Flower Child nodded and stood up. "The day you won that medal was the day you became something more than a scared little girl."
"Sure." And now my brain was forcing me to remember that day. I had qualified for the vault finals but for whatever reason my coach pulled me from the rotation. No, actually I knew perfectly well why. He wanted to punish me for hiding in the bathroom when getting dressed. He liked all the girls to change in the public hallway, where he could ‘supervise,’ because we were all so disobedient.
I knew that for a fact. I still got dressed and walked out with the rest of the finalists. Right away I was pulled from the rotation. My coach had told them I was unfit to compete, which was clearly a lie since I had no injuries. I told the advocates what was happening; what my coach had down to me ever since I was six. There were tears in my eyes and I knew for a fact my coach would make my life a living hell, but was allowed to vault.
Assuming I was not in the running for a medal, I tried a vault that I had only been allowed to do in practice; The Produnova. For those of you non-gymnasts, it's when you run up to the spring board, and do a mid-air summersault without landing on your head. The legendary Elena Produnova could do two maybe three summersaults before landing. I always thought she looked like a bullet or a cannon ball.
I can remember doing my run, flying higher than I had ever been, and then landing on my feet. Every muscle in my body wanted to fall over, but I held strong. I was going to stick my landing even if it killed me. The audience was silent, in shock, awe and horror. A junior level gymnast was never meant to land The Produnova. I was supposed to be dead, crippled but I wasn’t. I was a performer and I did that vault for myself. After taking point deductions for doing the wrong vault (technical shit,) I got third place. Not that I even got to keep my medal. No one spoke for me, but no one could ever take away what was rightfully mine. But what did I have now?
The Flower Child started to walk backward, into the shadows of the rain storm. “I’ll leave that choice up to you.”
I didn’t scream or cry. in all honesty I didn’t care. He wasn't real, he was just the part of me that needed a good kick in the ass. I needed to find my way off the roof, and I needed to be smart about it. I spent the next few minutes scooting on my hands and my butt, making every movement count (as to not accidently fall to my death.) Eventually I located what was clearly a door.
Balancing on my leg stumps, I could barely reach the door handle. I tightened my core muscles to execute a leap, pulling on the handle with all my strength. It was, of course, locked. At least I had a place to rest my back. I waited until the rain stopped, taking a moment to breathe. "I could really use a rescue from a handsome prince. Or maybe a chubby-cheeked plumber named Mario? Yeah, right."
I suddenly heard a thump on the opposite side of the door, as if something had dropped down (or teleported.) "Hello?" I said with a tap. "Anyone there?" Just as I spoke, the door opened, causing my exhausted body to fall backward into a dark hallway.
I was indoors, that was something. I took a moment to lean back, anticipating my next move. I really needed to find my prosthetic legs (or some kind of replacement) so I wouldn’t have to bruise the shit out of my arms and wrists. Until then I would have to deal with scooting around like a crippled puppy.
I made my way across the hall, down a set of stairs. I wanted to scream for help but there were no security guards or human life of any kind, not even any cameras. The first hallway was lit by a single halogen bulb with a metal door (possibly a fire escape) waiting for me at the end of a short path. I went through, only to find a stairwell with only a single set of stairs going down only a single floor. “What the?”
I made my way down, then across a different hallway. Door after door had been left open, in a very distinct path. Was I being led into a trap? There were no windows, only digital lights that seemed to mark rooms with unintelligible binary numbers.
After a while, I saw a few security cameras (the kind that look like glossy black balls, or eyes, attached to the wall.) Was I being watched? The idea sort of pissed me off. Was I an experiment, a rat in a maze? Before every open door I heard a thud. It was sometimes loud, sometimes soft. The variation lead me to believe it was organic. Someone was physically opening the doors for me; they had a plan, and endgame. And I was just a plastic piece on a checkerboard; only exploring as far as my overlord wanted me to go.
The final door unlocked a server room where dozens of towers were being housed at refrigerated temperatures. The jungle of cords seem to lead to a central point. In the center of the room was a red, open suitcase with wires coming from all angles. It seemed alive, kind of like a digital sea creature. In the middle of the case, where a clam would typically house its pearl, was a small glowing D-cell battery. "The battery?" This was what Kitsune was fighting for; what Noah died for?
Every single tower appeared to be powered from the suitcase. A sound theory until I started to look closer at the plastic cylinder, housing the ‘battery.’ It was freezing cold, except for the areas near ports. That meant I was wrong; the room full of servers were trying to unload the files from the small device (resulting in a massive outpour of energy.) “Wow,” I muttered. “This must be what a Yoda byte looks like.”
My comment caused laughter; a deep, male voice spoke up from just out of my line of sight. “You’re standing in the presence of project Neptune; aka The Battery, one of the modern wonders of the world.”
“The battery is a massive glorified flash drive?” I asked, taking a step back.
"Pretty much. The only person who could have deciphered its contents is long gone."
"Noah? He was guarding it, right? Why didn’t he ever try to open it?”
“I imagine it was for the same reason why you’re not trying to make a grab for it: the damn thing’s more trouble than it’s worth.”
“You didn’t lead me here?” I turned expecting to see the Flower Child. I don’t know why, maybe on some level the voice was similar. “Axel?”
The tall imposing man stood in full camo armor. He crossed his arms, looking at the battery with a sense of nostalgia. "Noah wanted to invent his own creations," Axel said with a sigh. "And, well between you and me, I think he already knew what was on it.”
"Hi,” I said in a squeaky voice. My mind was a mix of sadness, and fear, combined with the physical pain of having walked on my hands for the past few hours. “Am I in trouble?”
“No, but you were being tested.” He picked up his com-radio. “Target is secure, stand down.” He returned his focus to our conversation. “You were taken from the clinic under the veil of bad weather. We had no idea where your assailant had put your body, until you were spotted by the cameras. Clearly someone was tracking you; someone who knew the location of the battery.”
And whoever it was, hoped that a legless teenage girl would be allowed to escape the base with the high-value target. “So, how well did you know Noah or Cronos or whatever?”
“Noah Garrison was a military asset who went AWOL. It’s assumed he suffered a mental break.”
“But you don’t believe that.”
“I knew him before he disappeared,” Axel said with a nod. “He was a genius, a warrior, a friend.”
“I didn’t even know his last name.” I bit my lip, trying not to cry. “I’m just some stupid kid at the zoo who keeps falling head first in to the animal enclosures.” That sounded about right; some were helpful creatures while others seemed to want my blood.
“Had you made a play for the battery you would have had the full force of TAC on your ass, but as it stands, I am of the belief that you are being stalked by the international terrorist known as Faust.”
“Faust?” My entire body went limp. I was now crying uncontrollably and was moments away from vomiting the contents of my empty stomach.
“Lift your arms,” Axel said like a comforting parent. “Not to be disrespectful, but I want to get you reunited with your legs as soon as possible.”
I nodded and he lifted me like a crying toddler holding me close. With his free hand he pushed a button to open a previously unseen side door. Curious, I turned my head just enough to see the massive amount of armed guards.
Axel waved his arm, and the armored soldiers stepped to the side allowing him to pass. I had never felt so safe and so loved.
submitted by dourdan to BarryPepper [link] [comments]


2020.09.25 18:42 BeardyGoodGuy [B/S]+ Our full story

I'll start off saying that I'm not a great writer, but we wanted to share our story after reading other's stories here. Memories are a bit hazy here and there but we 3 agreed on the contents of this story. Hope y'all like our story, enjoy.
My youngest sister was ... and I was ... when we started exploring eachothers bodies, a year after our parents got divorced. Not in an overly sexual way. We'd play games with eachother and the game that set it all off was: Doctor... We had this toy doctor kit and it had everything a doctor needed. The thermometer was used mostly, because when we got a fever our mom used to take our temperature, so it was the only one we knew. The key to how it all started, the thermometer. First we hold it over our clothes onto eachothers butt. After some time I asked my sister why we used it the wrong way, we were, after all, medical experts. We started to insert the thermometer in eachothers butt, like we knew. It only took me one time to wonder why my sister had two holes, so I stuck it in her pussy. She had said that it wasnt how it was done.
I think it took about a year, for our mom to find out what we've been up to. We weren't really punished, we we're just told that it's not a thing kids should do. We stopped using the thermometer. We had seen everything of eachother and we're curious like kids are, so we started inspecting eachother. How it looks, feels and smells and how the skin interacts when touching it. Still kind of innocent at this point.
We kept on exploring eachother upstairs, after dinner, not really moving further than fingering. Our mom must have expected something because she checked in with us often, but that didn't stop us. My sister was always wet when I'd start to touch her, I learned that inserting my fingers and moving them would make my sister whimper. It was always a nice, wet and warm pussy. First couple of times I fingered her I never really knew what I was doing, but she'd make sure her little brother would pleasure her. She told me what felt good and I eventually made her cum everytime I would finger her.
Almost every time I got a mad boner from my sister's gentle touch. At the time I didnt really know what I should do with that feeling, but my sister did instictually. She kept stroking untill I came for the first time I remember, I was just ... years old. I remember that I didnt shoot any cum then, but my cock throbbed so incredibly hard. Because of how much our mom would check on us during playtime, we'd move it around and we'd start fucking around when the other was showering. Our mom never checked in during showertime, I think because I should be sleeping when my sister was in the shower.
My sister had figured out that she could cum from putting her clit under the faucet. She told me later that she wanted to wash her pussy and that she'd try using the faucet, but instead found out that's a great way to cum. She would turn on the shower, get it to her desired temperature and switch over to the faucet and lie on the floor. Now the faucet was 1,2 meters up from the floor. She'd turn the water down to the point the stream would brake before it hit her clit. Having that water fall on her clit made her squirm so hard. I watched her with curiousity and observed how her clit danced under the water stream falling down. It made me hard seeing her get off like that.
My sister told me to try and put my cock under the faucet like she did and see what it does. I did as she'd suggested. It did make my cock hard, but nothing close to orgasm. However, I knew that the part where my foreskin connects to my cocks head meet was very sensitive, so I'd try to use the shower head, turn it to the 5 stream airated option and have it shoot onto that sensitive part. I came after 15 minutes. My sister impressed with the improvisation, she'd sit down on the floor next to me and wanted the showerhead. I denied her the control, saying I'm your little brother let me do it for you, her orgasm was harder than previous one. It turned me on, but that was short lived, because we heard mom downstairs.
We kept going at it at least once or twice a week, depending on how closely we were watched, till we were ... and .... Our parents split the holidays between them. During that years summer holiday we had found a porntape in our dad's VCR, it was called Muchos Grassy Ass or something. A poolside gangbang, with a lot of girls giving handjobs, blowjobs and swallowing a lot of cum. We saw what they did in that porn video and in the coming weeks we'd mimick everything we saw. Our dad never checked in on us, he'd just what we were doing or when dinner was ready. He left us playing upstairs. Little did he know what was up. When we were at our dad's we'd play almost entire days and after having seen that porn... We'd start taking it further.
My sister would start sucking my cock, I'd eat her pussy, we'd kiss with tongue and masterbate eachother like we had seen them do on that tape. No penetration yet. This went on for almost every day for that summer holiday, sometimes we we're playing card games with our dad and his wife. When we got home we'd went back to our old routine, with added extra things we could do. My sister would try to get me to cum by sucking my cock when I would be brushing my teeth. I remember only one time that I came in her mouth like this, most times she'd stop because there were other siblings coming upstairs or mom.
Next year, our parents bickered whom should get the kids this summer. Our parents asked us, I said I was okay with both, my sister on the otherhand said she wanted to go to dad. When she did she looked at me with a expecting look I had seen before. So I sighed and said, sure if sister wanted to go I'd join her. Dad told her we'd go somewhere cool, that's also why she said she wanted to go to dad I learned later that summer.
That summer we went on a trip to Paris and Disneypark. The days before we left, we were having eachother every night. Dad and stepmom never checked in with us. Not even when we screamed or anything. We kept our ears open even though we thought we did nothing wrong. Ever since I had cum when I came since I was almost 11 my sis would swallow all of it, everytime. I made sure I eat her out just as often or more. The days at our dad's just sent this in hypermode since we were never checked. At home, our mom kept closer watch.
So the night before we would go to Paris for the summer holiday I came a ton in my sisters eager mouth. She always said she liked how it tasted and that it was only fair because I was her little brother. After I came for a 3rd time I was sore and said it was enough. I still wanted to cum more but my cockhead was too sensitive. She sucked it so well all the time. So i decided it was her turn. I ate her out, finger fucked her, she was so wet and her smell drove me crazy. We went to bed at 6, right after dinner claiming we needed to rest for the long journey(4 hours, lol). We did all the above till 11 something... I was going crazy because of my sisters pussy. Totally sex drunk my sis and I didn't hear my dad come upstairs. He opened the door and I crawled from under the blanket. Thinking this was it.
My sister claimed she had lost her earring and I was helping her find it. My sister, most clever girl knew how to lie and convincingly too. My dad said, we'll turn the bed over tomorrow and we'll find it, I'm sure. We said okay and went to 'sleep'. Our dad snores very loud. So we kept going till I busted a 5th time, a very small bit of cum, my sister sort of disappointed, but still licking as much as she could. I got her off I don't know how many times. The room smelled musky. My stepmom said the same. We claimed it was hot and we sweated alot. No questions asked. Beds both very wet with our sweat, hehe.
We were woken up at 5 am. We slept in the car. My sister kept fondling my parts with her feet. I was annoyed, I wanted to sleep. Dad said to stop annoying eachother, my sister stopped only to scowl at me with a pouty face. I got to sleep the rest of the journey. Finally we arrived in Paris. Dad had 2 rooms booked, 1 for him and stepmom and 1 for my sister and me. They said it was 2 seperate beds, but it was a single doublebed. We hid our excitement well. Dad was angry, but said he didnt care, it was what it was. We got the only key to that room. We shared the bathroom with the room of our dad, so we locked it and hid the key, saying the key wasnt there. My dad ever practical said to come to our door in the morning and you can come in through our side. Great thinking dad. We think that he was done with hotel services, dont know what else was fucked up. We walk through Paris, we eat, at 8pm we were in the hotel and dad said he was tired, we saw him grab our stepmom's butt. So we didn't complain much. We started fake fighting a little so dad said go to your room. We gave him an out on us and by doing so we create our own space. We argued that wasn't fair we wanted to stay up with them. He said no. We angrily got to our rooms. Or so dad thought. We undressed real fast, closed the curtains. Air-conditioning on full cuz it was going to be hot. We got busy like animals.
Licking and sucking and fingers and all of it. She was doing her very best, doing new things with her tongue and fingers. I asked where she got that from and said from another tape she found of my dad. I disappointedly asked why she hid it from me, I'd want to learn new things too. She looked at me all mischievous and stopped, my heart stopped thinking I'd not get any anymore. Bit she leaned back, started rubbing, pulling and pinching her nipples and clit. While looking at me all intense like. She show me how wet she was and told me to come get it, little brother, it's yours. My dick sprung up. I got so hard from that.
I crawled to her and smelled her tight slit, the smell is indescribable. I start to lick her while shes widespread sitting with her hands behind her leaning back. She'd moan my name and guide me to what she wanted me to do. Yes little brother lick my clit, put your fingers in me, you know the spot to hit. So I tried to do the same with my tongue as she did earlier to me. I was so in trance with her body, smell and taste that I started low moaning while sucking on her clit. That was a success, my big sister came like she'd never. The amount of pussy juice drooling down her pussy, amazing! I licked it all up, I love her taste.
She took my head and pulled me up for a kiss, with tongue. I'm not sure what this is and I just try to hug her tongue with mine. We stay kissing like that for a while. She pulls away from me and pushes me back so I'm on my knees and my hands behind me leaning back just like my sister a little while ago. My dick poked up with some pre-cum on the tip and a string of pre-cum where it had already leaked. She kissed me again and stroked my cock, licked the pre-cum off. Smiled at me and asked me what I wanted most of her to do. I told her I love it when you give me a handjob, finish me in your mouth and show me how much you love to swallow me. She does.
After that we were glistening from sweat even though the airco was on. Maybe it wasnt on or the settings were wrong. Who knows. We're spooning, I started stroking my sisters hair, kiss her neck and glide my hands over her body next to mine. Teasing her nipples, softly squeezing her tits, caress her stomache and cup her pussy with my other hand. I whisper in her ear, I love you. I can feel her heartbeat going faster, she turned her head to try and look me in the eye. She pushes herself into me and moves her hips. Is that true, she asked me. I nod, whisper yes, and nozzle her neck, taking in her sweaty, musky smell. I kept her pussy cupped in my hand and with the other hand i cupped a breast.
My sister pulled my hands of her and I let her go completely. She sits up and puts her hands on my chest and says to relax and lay down. With one hand on my chest and one on my leg she used her mouth on me again. When I was rock hard again she said did you REALLY mean what you said? I hold her hand that's on my chest, nod and said yes. She asked do you trust me? I just nod, my heart racing and drumming in my ears. She straddles me, looks me deep in my eye and asks me if I'm ready.
My cock is real close to her warmth and wetness I can feel it radiate. I nod the smallest nods. She moves back a little, halfway my cockhead she holds there. She looked so sexy then, I wanted my sister so bad! We looked deep in eachothers eyes, our hands intertwine which she hold above my head. Slowly backing up her hips, I feel her slide over my cock. Her pussy so slick and warm. It is the best I've ever felt. I can feel all of her around my cock. She cums for just that and her orgasm feels like her pussy hugging my cock. Our breathing is shaky from pleasure and nerves.
When my sister hilts me, she kisses me deeply. I make smallest thrusts using my hips. She moans the hottest moan. Our hands stay intertwined and she pulls herself forward. I feel her pussy sliding up. I move my hips to stay in, but my sister says no, Ill do it little brother, stay there. I stop my moving, enjoying the sensation, kissing my sister again. I hold her hand and move one on my chest, she lets go and my free hand goes to her hip. She opens her eyes when I'm almost out of her, she looks at me and gives me the sexiest smile. We sync our breath, she nods and I know what she wants to do. She pushes down, my hand on her hip pushes her down too. She speeds up, both hands go to my chest. I play with her tits and clit. She bends over and says to lick her nipples.
My sister pushed down so slow, her pussy envelops my cock and hugs it so tight. My cock is throbbing, we both feel eachother. Again and again, I feel my cock get harder and my balls tighten. My sister must have felt or seen my face, she pushed down hard the last time, making me go balls deep I thrust with my hips to go as far into my sisters tight, warm pussy. She repeatedly whispers yes yes yes. Cum for me little brother she said as she pushed down for the last time, I thrusted to her pushing down. We came together. I came hard and deep and kept hip thrusting into her pussy. My sister wanted to lay like that with my cock in her pussy. She laid on top of me and I felt myself ever so slowly shrink inside her. We kissed and she said she was glad and asked me if I was okay. I nodded. Couldn't talk. That was night 1 in Paris. I dont the time we went to sleep, we woke up with her still having a pussy full of my cum. We got up and she used a little wipe to get most of it. We went to our dad's room, I asked my dad if he had the map with the routes he wanted to walk. I covered my sister so she could go into the shower.
During that week I came so often in her pussy and mouth it's crazy. A week and a half passed by real fast. We walked routes with our dad and stepmom by day, we had dinner and we'd see how late we'd be excused to go to bed. We were quite often already tired at 9 after dinner. But once in bed, we'd not be able to let the other sleep before they had came one way or another. I fucked my sister's pussy so often and came deep everytime. She feels amazing! In hindsight I asked Andrea yesterday, why didn't she bleed the first time we were together. She laughed and said I think I took my own virginity by fucking a big dildo she'd found in the house. Up to this day we don't know whose it was.
The last night, of this insane holiday, we found out that our dad had ordered xxx channel. The next morning he'd get the news that both rooms had the channel and both rooms watched. I was watching tv because I couldn't sleep and stumbled upon it, and watched it. Andrea confirmed this and said she took the remote and stopped me watching. My dad was so proud of his little girl stopping his perverted son. If he had only known. The name of that movie escaped us. But we saw a girl getting fucked in her ass. Andrea, told me she wanted to try that too. Not lying when I say I was scared.
She starts me up and sat doggy like the girl on TV. She said good that dad ordered this channel and that it must be a mistake, I didn't listen. I just wanted my Andrea. I put my dick to her ass and tried to push in. I said it wasn't going. She said push harder. It hurt, I stopped. She said I could try and lick her first like before. So I do. It wasn't planned so I'm not sure if sour is the flavour you should get licking ass, but I'm not a quiter. I wanted to give it to her when she was face down ass up. I lick like my life depended on it. In hindsight it is only good that she went toilet before bed... She squirms and moans softly I shouldn't delay.
While I'm getting ready I keep an eye on the screen. I see the girl push back. And the guy finger her ass. So I copy and tell Andrea to to do like her. Again I set my dick against her ass and push, I feel her push back and I'm in. Andrea yelps and says it hurts, but it also feels good. I ask if I should stop and I move to get out and she takes my arm and says no I want you to have me like that. Without any thought I spit on her ass and she slowly moves so I go in deeper and deeper. It feels weird, but good.
She quivers and says I can try to slide in and out if I want but do it slowly. It takes all my effort to not just go, I wanted to have her like that guy in the movie had that girl. She comes. Asks if I'm close. I says I'm not. She says she wants me to cum. She wants to feel me throb in her. I spit again and slide in and out faster and push her into the bed, she goes prone and yelps hard into the bed. I say sorry, she says no it's fine. I feel her anus contract. I ask if she came and she says yes now you little brother. I give her some more slow balls deep thrusts and I come the hardest in all my life. I retract and caress Andreas back. She's panting so hard. I ask her if she's fine. She nods.
After it all we went for a quiet wash, hoping not to wake our parents. We take the key to the shared bathroom and I go check on my parents. They're not there. Now I know that they were out for drinks, enjoying music downstairs in the restaurant. We wash up fast, she walks a little funny. Maybe that was me. We go to bed, we spoon and fall asleep. We sleep for a couple hours and see our dad and stepmom the next morning at 8am so we can go have a shower.We go back home and have 2 more days of sex filled insanity, never being checked. The holiday ended and we had to go back to mom's house.
A couple of weeks after the Paris trip our stepbrother found us in bed, we said we're fucking. But he didn't think we did because he just saw out faces. A few days after we were playing truth or dare with our stepbrother. So I said truth and he asked me if I have had sex, I said yes and he said liar. I'm not a liar I told him and got quite upset that he called me a virgin. I don't know why I got upset, probably because I was scared to prove it. My stepbrother's turn and he said truth. My sister asked him if he would tell mom and his dad if my sister and me fucked in front of him. He said no. My sisters turn and she said dare. My stepbrother and I said in unison: fuck your brother / fuck me. She said we would do it under blankets. Stepbrother said sure. I got on bed already hard. My sister removed my clothes and I removed hers while protecting our modesty I guess. It was routine for us by that time. I lie down, she moves on her knees over me and guides my cock to her pussy... She lowers herself over my cock and I thrust my pelvis up. He saw out faces while fucking, kissing and our climaxing. He got up, laughed and said we were great actors. Nothing happened after that from him knowing what we did/do.
We keep at it as many times as we can. Interchanging BJ, HJ, sex... Never was scared until I got the memo that women can get pregnant, I wasn't think about all that. I thought she'd be with child for sure. So much cum I shot in her pussy. I almost died. I asked Andrea if she was on BC and it was all good, she was already on the pill at this point for over a year. When I can I still keep her pussy, mouth and rarely her ass filled whenever Andrea wants me to.
Somewhere around Xmas that year there was a girl that fancid me in school so of course I'd say yes to her and have her over at our house. Alexandra is her name. She made Andrea jealous and Andrea was angry with me for sometime. She stopped speaking with me and I didn't get to make love to her for some months. Being pent up like that I jerked it more often than normal. I did get agitated more because of not getting my sister's sweet pussy.
Some time went by, started having fun with my gf Alexandra. She must have wondered why I knew what I knew. She asked me if I had sex before and said yes. She asked if she knew her and I said yes. She asked for a name and I said I couldn't tell her her name. She accepted. We moved slow. She wasn't like my sister at all. Mostly because we didn't see eachother as much as I saw Andrea and I had to use a condom. But we progressed. So after those 2 months I already established sexual relationship with my gf, I was less agitated and Andrea finally started talking with me again. One day mom was shopping, Andrea pulled me upstairs, didn't say anything, till we were in the attic and she asked me how could I do that to her. I said I never loved Alexandra, I do now, but I wasn't going to do anything with Alexandra. Not untill Andrea stopped talking with me and stopped having sex with me. Andrea was crying, I tried to console her and said I could break it off and just blame myself for it and we'll continue together.
Andrea walked away without saying one more word. Slowly she acted normal around me. We got back to talking and stuff. She got a bf, he dumped her later on. Andrea cried, I was the only one she kind of found solace in. With Alexandra it got better and better. Found more time to be with her and she started to be more adventurous like my Andrea was. It was somewhere during summer holiday where I had turned 15 and Andrea 17. Alexandra was over at my place. My mom had found a man to date and she was gone to see him, she entrusted Andrea and I with the house. She left money for food and the cabinets were stocked. My other siblings already had left the house (army, summer job, own home)so I had all the space and time I wanted with my gf. I had planned a week of fucking her silly. Day one: mom left early, gf got here around midday, played games with Andrea and then got upstairs to watch a movie. I put on Dirty Dancing cuz my mom said that was a good film. Indeed it was. Before the begin credits were done we were kissing and she pulled my clothes off and I just pulled down her leggings and panties. Gotta love dresses.
We start getting heavy and I notice the house is too quiet for my liking. My gf licking my cock made me forget that thought fast. Later I learned Andrea had been watching us. Alexandra was allowed to sleep over after we forgot the time while fucking. I think her dad suspected something but her mom said it was fine. Day 2: wake up, stroke my cock, wait for gf to wake up, rail her some fierce. Get food. Play on PlayStation. Go to swimming pool with gf parents and Andrea could come with. Nothing fancy at night much to my dislike.
Day 3: Alexandra's parents drove us home yesterday so... I had to wait for Alexandra. We had breakfast Andrea and I. We talk about playing boardgames later. I ask her for some privacy later when my gf walked in through the backdoor. Alexandra kissed me and talked girly stuff with Andrea. All good. We played several boardgames, Alexandra teasing me under the table. I stretch and yawn, tell Andrea I'm go upstairs and watch a movie, maybe take a nap. Alexandra got the hint. So with Alexandra I had to use condoms which is asked my oldest brother to get. Alexandra isn't on birth controle. Only 2 condoms left, I kind of panicked, just 2?! Oh well it's 2 more, cross that bridge when we get there, maybe I'd buy them myself this time. I start feeling Alexandra up, kiss her neck and whisper in her ear that she is the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. It always took a bit of tender time and effort to get her ready. I rub her feet and back using directions I found in a book I found in my brother's room.
I eat her pussy, she tastes like musk smells I guess, very animalistic. I love it. Find her g-spot and make her a sloppy mess. She gives me a blowjob, I'm enjoying myself, that's when I hear floorboards creak. I turn a bit to see the door slightly ajar. Did I leave it like that? Again it was too quiet, Alexandra sucking me off hard now because I wasn't paying attention. I ignore the door, but see something flash in the gap. That's when I knew it had to be Andrea. That got my heart racing. Was she watching us? Did she want to join? Many months went by so I thought she wouldn't want me anymore.
I make Alexandra stop and have her turned sideways to the door and I sit legs wide open but straight on the bed so if she was looking Andrea would have a clear sight of my cock. I told Alexandra to lie on her stomache sucking me off like that. She always pulls her feet up and opens her legs lying down on her stomache. Now Andrea must be able to see it all I thought. Some time goes by I hold Alexandra's ponytail and guide her up and down. I set the pace. Slow slow fast slow slow slow fast fast. I hear or see nothing so I thought it was just my imagination. We continue for a bit before I cum in her mouth I put on a condom have her bend over the edge of the bed legs as wide apart as she can. It's a tall bed, I can perfectly insert myself standing behind her. Lust takes over and I push myself in deep, thrusting harder and harder. I didn't hear Andrea open the door and come in, neither did my gf.
Andrea was behind me and slowly hugged me from behind, I stop for the smallest second wanting to say something. Andrea holds her hand over my mouth thrusts her hip against mine making me fuck my gf. She whispers in my ear that she couldn't take it anymore. Her second hand moved to my balls and she plays with them while keeping me moving. She whispers: a condom? Why not cum in her? My gf moaning, never looking up or back never knew what happened. Andrea took my hand and made me feel her wet pussy. My thrusting got harder. Alexandra is almost screaming. Andrea tells me to fuck my gf, but to pull out and take the condom off before I come to feed Andra my cum. Andrea wanted my cum in her eager mouth. She got down next to my gf's leg dangling over the edge of the bed. I feel a rush coming, I give 2 more slow deep thrusts and I'm coming. I pull out, pull the condom off, Andrea takes my throbbing cock in her mouth and gives me a wink while she does, she has smiling eyes. Before Alexandra is any the wiser I keep her there and finger her hard, still cumming in my sis's mouth. Greatest moment at that point, pure bliss.
Andrea swallows it all, Alexandra didn't notice anything. Andrea gets behind me, strokes my cock and whispers want me to eat her pussy? I'm rock hard instantly. I want to say yes, but don't know what will happen. In my sex drunk stupor I say yes, eat her pussy sis. I pull Alexandra a little over the edge. Andrea gets down on her knees between Alexandra's legs. Eating her. I take the image in and can't believe this is happening. Alexandra is coming hard, I don't know how much. Andreas legs are open so I go to the floor and lick her juices up. She grabs my hair after a few licks and motions no... I couldn't think straight and the only option I saw was Alexandra's mouth. I walked to the other side of the bed and moved to Alexandra. Her eyes closed climaxing, grab her hair and pull her face up, she opens her eyes, mouth opens and starts sucking my dick. I could see the confusion in her eyes. She stopped sucking only to cum again and turning around seeing Andrea. Im sitting on my knees on the bed, Andrea between Alexandra's legs and Alexandra is lost for words.
Alexandra pushed herself up and tried to speak but I pushed her towards my cock. She didn't object and sucked me hard. I motioned Andrea to come over here. Alexandra watching her move closer. I think my sis got the idea and lay down next to Alexandra. I grab her hair too and pull Alexandra off to have Andrea continue the work. Alexandra got up rubbing her pussy. Still in disbelief. I told her to eat my sister's pussy. She looked at me, at Andrea. I took her hand and put Andreas hair in her hand. I asked Andrea to spread her legs so she could be reached. Alexandra moved my sisters head up and down, like she knew I liked. I kissed my gf. My gf let Andrea go and started to move away. I stop Andrea have her turn on her back and get to my gf. Having seen my dad's tapes I knew what I wanted. Have my gf eat my sister. Andrea stayed still. I whisper to my gf I want her on her hands and knees. I enter her and push her to the edge of the bed and Andrea came closer. My sisters pussy smelled great and was soaking wet. I start eating her pussy and my gf looked away. I said it wasn't fair for my sis she made you cum, you got to return the favour. Thus we both ate my sisters pussy. Almost forgetting I didn't have a condom on I look at my sister, she knows that face. I pull out of Alexandra and she watches as I pour my seed in my Andreas eager mouth, swallowing it al.
Alexandra was uncomfortable after, so we got clean and talked alot. She didn't think this was okay, but she did enjoy it. I told Alexandra we didn't have to do it anymore, but Andrea came in naked and said she wanted to continue. She wanted more. I turned to Alexandra thought she'd be gone now. To just stand there and see her be doubting, what to do? My sister took her hand and pulled Alexandra to her. She whispers something in her ear, and Alexandra smiled. Up to this day they refuse to tell me what was said. But she nodded. Dropped everything she had gathered and crawled to me. My sister shot me a wink and sat on the bed opening her legs wide. Alexandra now on her knees before me said I should eat my sisters pussy if I wanted to. I must have looked like a deer in headlights. I moved to my sister and smelled that amazing pussy. I got to town and when I did Alexandra took my cock in her mouth.
So went by a couple more days. Till my mom got back. The last day was spent doing laundry and all that. Now we talked more about what we liked with us three. Alexandra eats pussy but only because it delights me. I do it all, because I like it all, Andrea wants me as much as possible, she does anything to make her little brother happy. We told Alexandra how it started. She didn't seem bothered anymore at that point. She had loads of questions though. We answered as well as we could. In the end I get to fuck and eat my sister and my gf. We made arrangements. Alexandra isn't a fan of swallowing so my sister does it all. If my Andrea isn't here, Alexandra will. I get to eat, finger and fuck both my girls, but they'll share me equally between eachother if both are present, basically I get used.
Now that has been years ago. Alexandra is now my wife. We don't want kids and don't have any. Maybe later? We still have sex with my sister, we want to daily, but agendas aren't always compatible. Sometimes I just fuck my sis. My wife will call and ask me if I'm cumming in my sister again and that I should save some for her. It's turned into a crazy triangle where we all 3 are super happy. Nobody knows but us 3. Some might expect something but probably not that I'm cumming in my sister that often. My sister never has or had boyfriends, just her little brother, claims she doesn't need another. My sister is still jealous of Alexandra, but I make sure she gets a little more attention sometims. Alexandra's sex drive isn't as high and she's fine with Andrea getting a little more sometimes. Alexandra even edges me to go to her.
Edit1: format
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2020.09.25 16:00 Angel466 [Bob the hobo] A Celestial Wars Spin-Off Part 0171

PART ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-ONE
There were long days. There were bad days. And then there were really long, really bad days that left one feeling like nothing but shit.
Today was one of those last ones for Lucas. It had started off bad and gone downhill fast. The only positive in the whole damn thing was that he finally found out just how right his instincts were about his LT. But even that soured with the knowledge that if he’d just ignored Charlotte’s pleading years ago when the Lt first assaulted her, all of the evil that that man and his brother caused since could have been avoided.
And then Angelo would not have had to go through what he did.
The process of charging Leonard Mayliss was ludicrously simple since everything was caught on the security camera. Even the paperwork involving the official arrest went smoothly. But then, the interrogation (aka inquisition) of 1PP’s high command began, and he had neither Detective Nascerdios nor Detective Quail there with him. Quail was still on her man-hunt for the Harris brothers, and God knows where the fuck Daniel took off to after the arrest, but he sure didn’t hang around 1PP long.
Lucas diverted as much as he could to the two absent detectives, but High Command wasn’t interested in the opinions and reviews of the detectives officially linked to the case. They wanted to know how a beat cop from the Fifth seemed to know more about the case than they did.
He answered their questions as honestly as he could and held nothing back, receiving in a dressing down for not reporting Lieutenant Harris at the time of the incident and another for not realising Angelo’s involvement before now. After hours of relentless grilling, he finally snapped and asked if he needed his rep to be present because as far as he was concerned, he’d done nothing wrong.
Things wrapped up quickly after that point, and he was dismissed for the evening. Shortest promotion in history, he mused to himself, as he went to check on both Mason and Angelo on his way home. But that part didn’t bother him. With the Harris’ out of the way, he could climb the ranks of the NYPD in his own time.
Because he was still in uniform, the officers with Mason let him in to see his roommate. Mason was fast asleep, so after watching him for a few minutes, he left more upbeat than when he went in. “As a heads up,” he said to the two officers manning the door. “The other witness in this case, had an attempt made on his life because someone came in dressed like a doctor. Don’t trust anyone.”
“Nice of you to tell us that after you went in.”
Lucas was unrepentant. “I wanted to see him.” He tapped his forefinger against his hat at them in farewell and made his way to the ICU, where surprisingly, he was permitted straight through to Angelo’s room once his identity had been confirmed. So maybe he wasn’t on 1PP’s shit list after all. Unlike Mason, Angelo just looked unconscious. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was breathing, he was pale enough to be dead. He’d lost a lot of blood on top of whatever else that poison did to him.
It almost made him want to go back to 1PP and say to Mayliss’ guard, “Here. Hold my badge.” But being a cop was all he ever wanted, and he wouldn’t throw it away on a little gratuitous revenge.
He left the hospital and caught the subway home, still mulling things over as he walked the last few blocks to his front door. “The first thing I’m gonna do when I get upstairs is grab a beer,” he murmured to himself as he let himself in the front door and made his way up the stairs.
Living on the second floor made the elevator ridiculous in his mind. Though he certainly wouldn’t have said no to it when they lived on the ninth. Which brought up another point of interest: How long were they all going to be living in Llyr’s? He was the Nascerdios who was usually situated over in San Francisco. A three-story mansion, not including the two sub-levels or the underground car park. Back when Llyr didn’t pass Lucas’ sniff test, he’d found Llyr’s address and used Google Maps to have a look at the place from the outside. Very, very fancy, and Miss W would absolutely hate it.
But that wasn’t his problem, and he had enough of his own.
He slid his key into the apartment door and let himself in. “Hey, I’m home,” he called out, just like he always did.
The lack of response was weird. Usually, someone was milling around somewhere to shout back a greeting. Lucas sat on the stool and unlaced his boots, noticing that both Boyd’s sneakers and work boots were in the pile. So at the very least, the big guy was home. Sam’s Givenchy sneakers that Lucas thought they were going to have to surgically separate him from when he died were also amongst the pile.
Just as noticeably, the flip-flops Robbie had been wearing all day were absent. He hadn’t been at the hospital either, which would’ve been his next guess. Failing both of those, he’d probably gone back to work off some steam.
Not a bad idea. He might do the same in his new room. Oooor … he could fall into bed and catch up on sleep. He’d make his decision after his first beer.
As was his habit, he went to check on Sam first. As the youngest member of the household, he might have been in his twenties, but he still had a lot of growing up to do, and Lucas still saw him more as a high schooler than a college near-graduate.
He caught sight of the piece of paper taped to Sam’s door before he could read the words.
“Stay out. Leave Sam alone, gentlemen. Ivy.”
His hand froze at his shoulder and then lowered to his side again. If Miss W said to leave him alone, he was going to leave well enough alone.
On his way to their side of the apartment, he detoured past the fridge and grabbed a cold Bud, tossing the lid in the sink behind him. The trash was now kept out of sight in one of the cupboards under the sink, and he didn’t feel like backpedalling. He’d fix it up later.
He took his first swig at the laundry area and the second and third down the hallway. “Knock-knock,” he said, rapping the back of one knuckle against Boyd’s door.
He heard the roll of a chair right behind the door, and then the door opened. Boyd was still sitting in a wheeled chair which he pushed back with his heels to open the door fully. “Hey,” he said sheepishly.
Something was off. Lucas looked past him to where three blocks of wood and a packet of tools sat in the middle of the unmade bed. To his left, he saw a built-in table with a spread of food that quickly reminded him he hadn’t eaten all day.
He saw Boyd twist his head to follow his gaze and chuckle at him. “Here,” his roommate said, passing him the wrapped turkey and salad roll that had been made big enough to dwarf a works hotdog. “Start with that.” Boyd’s eyes went to Lucas’ beer and he huffed a sharp sigh.
“I can get you one while I’m up,” Lucas offered, tipping the bottom of his bottle towards the kitchen.
“Nah, I can’t have a beer at the moment.”
Why not? It was on the tip of his tongue to ask, but he knew the direct route was also the direct way to get Boyd to shut down, hard.
He took a moment to unwrap the roll “So what’s all this?” he asked, lifting his fingers off the roll long enough to point out the lumber and tools on the bed.
“A carving project,” Boyd answered, hesitantly.
“I didn’t know you carved.”
“I haven’t in years. I made my little brother a pretty cool toy soldier set back when I was ten.”
Lucas rested his shoulder against the door and took a bite of his roll. “So what inspired you to take it up again?”
Boyd shrugged and dropped his eyes to the table.
Okay, sensitive subject. “Any thoughts on what you’re going to make?”
“Nope,” Boyd admitted. “Working on putting a hole in this lot first. But there’s plenty here if you want to dig in.”
Robbie wasn’t in the habit of making up more than was necessary because he hated waste. Something about Boyd had changed since Robbie put the lunch together. Something Boyd was dancing around. He needed to come at this from a different direction. “What do you think of the new layout?” he asked, lifting his eyes to the room.
Boyd kicked back and twisted his chair to face the same way. “It’s bullshit,” he said, with a whole lot of passion. “Unless Llyr’s people were working on this the whole time we were living up the other end of the apartment, which never would’ve happened because renovations are never that quiet. This is impossible. We even have HVAC for fuck’s sake.”
Lucas looked up at the vent in the ceiling. “Shit, I didn’t even notice that,” he admitted.
Boyd stood up, and with his right hand over his head, he went up on to his tiptoes and brushed his fingertips across the ceiling. “That ceiling height hasn’t changed an inch, yet we have a foot of fucking HVAC running above it.”
“That’s impossible!”
“Tell me about it. And don’t get me started on how that kitchen and living room out there shouldn’t be but is.”
“And what’s over there?” Lucas asked, noticing the open barn door.
“Fantasyland,” Boyd answered, waving his hand for Lucas to go and look.
Lucas saw the dressing room, which lit up as soon as he went in. “JEY-SUS CHRIST!” Even though it wasn’t his dressing room, Boyd had permitted him to look, so he went over to the drawers and pulled the top one out. A jewellery drawer. Boyd, who didn’t own a piece of fucking jewellery, had a drawer set specifically designated for jewellery. Cufflink holders. Watch holders. Ring slots. Fucking runway lighting and mirrors on three sides! And half the padded coat hangers on one end of an empty rack were for suit jackets.
“Keep going,” Boyd said, gesturing for Lucas to move on to the other room. “It gets better.”
Lucas wanted to poke his nose in every drawer in the room, but he still followed Boyd’s direction. “No—fucking—way!”
“What am I going to do with all this fancy shit?” Boyd asked, coming up behind him once more.
“Well, I’m pretty sure someone’s introduced you to the concept of a shower and crapper at some point in your life,” Lucas jeered. His fighter instincts had him dropping low, just in time to avoid the sweeping arc of Boyd’s loose-fisted punch. He popped back up onto his feet again and leapt away, making sure to keep a good grip on both the beer and the sandwich. “I don’t know what you’re bitching for, man. You’ve got your own private bathroom. If anything, you suck.”
“Is yours the same as before?”
Boyd may have asked the question innocently enough, but Lucas heard the hitch in his voice at the very beginning and knew the nosey prick already knew the answer to that.
When Lucas gave him the same look he gave miscreant teenagers, Boyd’s lips kicked up on one side. “I was just seeing where the hell I was,” he admitted with a sideways grin. “I woke up here, with nothing around me that I recognised. I went room by room until I saw all of Robbie’s crap in his room and then I went out into the living room and found my chair.”
“Wait … you woke up in your room?”
Boyd’s shoulders twitched, his smile falling away. “I … might’ve fallen asleep in the car on the way home from work this morning.”
“You weigh nearly three hundred pounds!”
“Two eighty-ish.”
“Who the fuck got you out of the car and upstairs?”
Boyd shrugged. “My guess, Robbie and Angus must’ve pulled it off together somehow. All I know is, no one was home when I woke up.” With a sharp huff, he rolled his eyes, “Well, no one except Llyr and Miss W, and that was something I was not walking in on to ask them ...”
“What do you mean, Llyr and Miss W?”
Boyd’s right eyebrow arched high. “They were in Llyr’s room gettin’ bus—sy.” He drew out the word and waggled his eyebrows so that there was no misunderstanding.
Only Lucas was sure there had to be. “Llyr, and Miss W?” he asked in disbelief. “Are you sure?”
Boyd’s eyebrow dropped back to normal. “Well, let’s see. Grunt, grunt. Groan, groan. Oh yeah, Llyr. God, yeah. Loud scream of Llyr’s name, and then even more grunting.”
“Well, fuck,” Lucas growled in annoyance.
“What?”
“It looks like I owe Robbie ten bucks.”
Boyd burst out laughing. “You bet against Robbie when sex was the wager? You moron!”
“Shut up! I thought I had it in the bag. Miss W made it clear she never wanted anything to do with Sam’s … hey – do you think anyone’s told Sam?”
Boyd shrugged again. “Sam’s locked himself in his room.”
“And Miss W’s put a note on his door telling us all to leave him alone.”
“Really?” Boyd went back to his bedroom door and craned his neck on the angle to make out Sam’s door at the other end of the double hallway. “With everything else, I didn’t even notice that there.”
“Well, you wanna see the one cool factor about my room? Apart from the fact, the whole thing’s been soundproofed.”
“What’d you get soundproofing for?”
Lucas knocked his half-empty beer against Boyd’s chest and led the way next door to his room. “Open it up and take a look.”
He stepped aside and let Lucas go first, knowing the dimensions of his room were identical to the one he had upstairs. His queen-sized bed was flanked by built-in wardrobes, and very little else of his was in the room.
“So?” Boyd asked, turning back to him.
“Watch,” he said with a grin, and walking over to the bed with his hands still full, he hooked his foot under the foot of the bed and gave it a heave. The whole thing flipped up into line with the other two wardrobes, making it look like a full bank of closets. The floor was packed from wall to wall and wall to wall with tatami mats.
“They turned your bed into a murphy bed,” he said, missing the point entirely.
Lucas pointed his food and drink at the flooring. “They’re professional tatami mats,” he said unable to hide his excitement.
The blank look on Boyd’s face meant he still didn’t get the significance.
“Fine,” Lucas said, going back to the doorway where he put his roll and beer against the wall outside. When he came back into the room, he went to the left of Boyd, and in a blur of speed, put his foot on the wall and pushed off it in an upwards direction. He collected Boyd around the neck and shoulders and twisting sharply in mid-air, he used his momentum and weight to flip Boyd off his feet into a three-sixty degree spin that slammed the bigger man into the mats on his ass.
While his opponent was still dazed, Lucas wrapped his legs around Boyd’s waist from behind and locked one of Boyd’s arms above his head in a kata-ha-jime which he leaned back into to prevent Boyd’s superior strength from breaking the hold. “Say uncle,” Lucas taunted, once he felt Boyd start to struggle within the hold.
“Let me go, you little asswipe, before I rip your fucking legs off in your sleep and shove one up your ass and one down your neck.”
Lucas tched and tightened his stranglehold. “So much violence,” he laughed. “And threatening a law enforcement officer to boot…”
“Seriously, let me go before I lose my temper and pull shit on you that they don’t teach in any fancy fighting school.”
Sensing the fun was over, Lucas released his hold and rolled backwards out of the way, using his hands on the floor to flip himself back up on to his feet in case Boyd tried anything.
All Boyd did was climb to his feet and rub his shoulder where the hold had been at its tightest. “Last time I share my lunch with you, asshole.”
“Do you get it now?” he asked, gesturing at the compacted rice core mats. “They’re professional martial arts mats, man. They take the impact so instead of breaking your ass, it just bumps it.”
Boyd nodded. “So you can train in here.”
“Properly, and without disturbing anyone with jumps and pounds.”
“Have you looked in the wardrobes, yet?”
Lucas shot Boyd a quizzical look, and the older man chuckled. “You want to bet another ten bucks against at least one of them being filled to the brim with everything you could ever need to train with?”
Not interested in losing even more money, Lucas went to the nearest pair of wardrobes and after opening them, found nothing but drawers and hanging space. But, just like in Boyd’s room, there was a second set of cupboards down towards the end that backed onto Boyd’s ensuite. Lucas shot across to them, trying not to behave like a five-year-old on Christmas morning, but finding it really hard not to.
Especially when he opened the doors and found it was a ‘walk-in wardrobe’ going back almost six feet. Within the space was a large assortment of straps, gloves, protection pads, headgear, mouthguards, rash guards and two full-sized, top of the line combat mannequins, not including a designated space for his own Bob Man upstairs. Enough equipment for three people to train with simultaneously. When he turned to see what was behind him, he found a rack of sweat gear, fabric mats that were three by two feet in size and a fully decked out first aid station including a bar fridge with a shelf packed with cold packs and drinks.
Drinks … and protective sitting mats for the flooring?
He looked back near the door and saw the HVAC controls that would allow him to isolate the room from the rest of the house. Which were also the point of the drinks and protective mats. He wouldn’t be able to train in any air conditioning, any more than he could walk out of the room mid-training into it to get a drink. Either of those was without a doubt, the fastest way to catch pneumonia.
It was a sixteen-foot square professionally kitted space.
His own mini-dojo.
It was all … too much.
And it suddenly dawned on him that none of this was temporary.
Lucas slowly looked at his roommate, who stood in the middle of the room with his arms folded across his chest. “Do you get the feeling this relocation is a whole lot more permanent than ‘for our protection while the case is still ongoing’, man?”
“Yeah,” Boyd agreed, bobbing his head ever so slightly. “The question is, are we okay with that?”
That … is an excellent question.
* * *

PART ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-TWO

((AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yesterday's larger post was as a thank you to my NREMT friend who helped me with all of my paramedic information in the last couple of posts. Today's was because I was having too much damn fun to stop. But tomorrow it will go back to its normal size, as I really can't keep spending all day on this, even if I do have all the fun in the world writing it. 😍🥰 ))
Previous Part 170
((All comments welcome))
I made a family tree/diagram of the Mystallian family that can be found here
For more of my work including previous parts or WPs: Angel466 or indexed here
FULL INDEX OF BOB THE HOBO TO DATE CAN BE FOUND HERE!!
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2020.09.25 15:39 Upbeat_Shock_6807 I (27M) just got dumped by GF (25F) of a month and a half. Help me understand what happened?

Sorry for the long post, TL;DR is at the end. But I think everything here is important to fully understand the whole situation. Because I could use some insight.
I know it was only a month and a half, which is a rather insignificant period of time in the grand scheme of my entire life, so I know I’ll probably be over it within a few weeks. Regardless of that though, for right now this one has me feeling pretty messed up, and confused.
We met off a dating app and the date went so well that halfway through the date we set up a second date for the upcoming weekend. That second date went so well, we planned the third date for literally just that same night. We couldn’t get enough, went back to her place after the third date, hooked up, and basically came inseparable from there on out.
Everything about it was perfect, same sense of humor, same personality type, we were on the same page about everything. We wanted the same things out of a relationship, the same things out of life, we had the same “love language”, sex was ridiculous. We were just so compatible on every single level, it really felt like love at first sight I was so happy, and I haven’t had that feeling since I was a teenager. But this felt even more real than anything else from my past. Not to mention she lived just a 4 minute drive from my apartment (I know that’s whatever, but just another example of how perfect this situation was)
So we ended up spending every single night together during the week. I work a typical 9-5 as does she (again, perfect situation), and so after work she would come over to my place, or I’d go over to hers around 6-7. And during the weekends we would just spend the entirety of the day together because why not we both don’t have many friends in the area, and the ones we do have would just join us depending on what we were doing.
That’s the next part, I introduced her to my friends and she was getting to the point where she was just becoming friends with them on her own. I have mostly female friends, and she was totally cool with that she exchanged numbers with all of them and she was making plans with them apart from me. All my friends loved her. She introduced me to her friends and they loved me too. We even started planning on getting all my friends, and all of her friends together to bring the two groups together. Just this past weekend we set up a date between my best friend and her best friend.
I had absolutely zero problems with this girl, but she had a few things I have done that had annoyed her, or she didn’t appreciate. We had two minor discussions about some of these things that were just good honest discussions. I realized my wrongdoings, told her I understand and that I won’t do that again. These situations are honestly very small, that when they actually happened I didn’t even think anything out of the ordinary happened. I asked her to just communicate with me about these things as they happen, and I’ll be better with my communication as well. Perfectly healthy relationship discussion right? Little did I know that this discussion is what would ultimately lead to her dumping me.
Just 7 days ago she said, unprovoked “I love you, and I don’t care if it’s too early, and you don’t have to say it back, but I need you to know that”. Great because I fucking love this girl too so I say it back. So now it’s all out in the open, I’ve never been happier, which makes me so fucking angry, hurt and confused that 3 days after we profess our love to each other she dumps me.
We had another discussion about some things I did that annoyed her, but this time she brought up all the other stuff from our previous discussions. I’ll admit I probably did not handle the conversation that gracefully. I am not the best with my words, and I can get frustrated, not angry, but I end up saying things that may come across differently from what I intended. She’s getting frustrated because she thinks I’m flipping the problems on to her. And I ask her to please take a step back before this escalates because that’s not at all what I was trying to do. I ask if I can come over to talk about this in person instead of over the phone. Because I believe we need to have our first real convo about communication. Because all of these problems have occurred from me not realizing it was an issue, because they were so insignificant that in the moment she gave zero indication that anything was amiss.
She says no I have plans. Which is pretty weird she didn’t tell me about any plans she had so I asked wait what plans doing what? She just says she’s going out. I figured she’s just mad so I don’t further the issue. She said she needs an hour to process everything and then we can talk. I say great.
Well an hour later she calls back and says a whole lot. I start going numb because I can hear where this convo is going. I stop her and just say “is this really a break up call right now” and she says that she doesn’t want to but she doesn’t like the way I handled our conversation so she thinks it’s best if we end things where we are. I’m fucking crushed.
I can’t believe she’s not only breaking up with me, but that she’s also doing it over the phone, when we live literally right down the street from each other, and we saw each other every single day for the past 6 weeks. And this is all just due to some bad communication and misunderstanding with each other. I’m in shock. I decide to give some space. And so I don’t reach out for 48 hours.
I come back after that timeframe and ask if we can talk. She is a completely different person now. I didn’t know she could be so cold. She just say “I don’t have anything to say what do you want?”And “please just move on it’s just not the same for me anymore and it’s best if we leave this here and I wish you the best.” She clearly made up her mind and I’m not one to beg or be needy. I’ll cut my losses and run.
I’m shocked, my friends who saw us together are shocked. They’re all telling me “dude just go get her back she’s so obviously in love with you” she clearly doesn’t even care enough to talk to me. She’s had plans to go out drinking with her friends every night. Which is very out of character for her to do that during the week.
Her friends also told me just 4 days before the break up, that she was telling them that she saw herself marrying me, and she couldn’t believe that she has these feelings for someone she’s only known for 6 weeks. I personally don’t believe in timeframes for a relationship. When you feel it, you feel it. I was so sure that this was the one too.
If her feelings for me really were what she said they were, this feels like nothing but a minor speed bump that you work on and get over. But she won’t even try to talk this out. I’m just so confused, angry, and heartbroken to have someone tell me they’ve fallen in love with me, just to leave me a few days later.
So reddit, sorry for the long post but what happened here? Did I get played? Was I just a rebound? Was she really just not looking for a relationship? Or is this problem really big enough to leave me over?
Any insight would be helpful.
TL;DR fell deeply in love with a girl, and she did too. Spent every single day with each other over a 6 week period. We had our first fight that ultimately came down to us needing to have a talk about communication. She doesn’t want to at all. She leaves me. From saying “I’ve fallen in love with you” for the first time, to “it’s just not the same for me anymore, I wish you the best” in just a 3 day time period.
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2020.09.24 06:13 TheMidnightArchive The Abduction and Murder of Amber Hagerman

A Trip to The Grocery Store
The late winter in Texas is a mild time usually, with steady wind and a biting chill in the air. The season is one of change, the life force of the previous year is fading away to succumb to a newness imbued by the heat of the Spring and Summer. January 12th, 1996 in Arlington, Texas was no different, the sun was shining, the wind was steady, and the temperature hovered around the mid-sixties. On this day Donna Whitson and her two children, nine-year-old Amber and five-year-old Ricky Hagerman were in Arlington visiting Donna’s parents, Glenda and Jimmie Whitson. The family arrived at their destination around 3pm and upon disembarking Donna’s car the kids asked to ride their bikes, the ones that Donna had her parents keep at their home for them. Donna, without a second thought, assented to the request with the limitation that the kids stay within a block of their grandparents’ home. She wanted them to be safe.
Once astride their bicycles and away from nagging adults, Amber disregarded the boundary set upon her and her brother. Amber led Ricky to the local neighborhood play spot, a shuttered Winn-Dixie grocery store and after approximately 15 minutes of riding around the parking lot and loading dock the younger Ricky was ready to turn back home, whether out of fear of being beyond their boundary or being tired is unknown. What is known is that Amber had elected to stay and ride her bike around the parking lot of the store on her own for a while longer, that Ricky went home alone, and that in the intervening time something horrible would happen to Amber that would shape substance and conscious of the her family forever.
On January 12th, Mr. Jim Kevil was sitting on his back porch looking out over his yard and fence, a view that happened to encompass the next-door Winn-Dixie store’s loading dock and the street it was on. Around 3:15 pm Mr. Kevil saw a lone young girl riding a colorful bike around the grocery store loading dock when a dark colored truck quickly pulled into the parking lot. Jim Kevil would later state that the driver of the truck was either white or Hispanic and between the ages of 25-40, this unknown subject grabbed Amber, who let out a scream and began kicking her abductor. The driver then put Amber in his vehicle before he sped off West bound down Abrams Road. Not just a passive witness, Mr. Kevil called 911 to report the incident to the police and to try to aid in the capture of the kidnapper and the return of the little girl. This would be the last time that anyone would see Amber Hagerman alive.
After arriving home alone five-year-old Ricky Hagerman was sent by his family back to the Winn-Dixie to retrieve his sister. Turning his bike around Ricky did as requested, only to return to an empty parking lot. Only a brief eight minutes had elapsed since he had last seen his sister, but it was too late; Amber was gone. Ricky once again arrived alone to the Whitson home prompting Grandfather Jimmie Whitson to race to the store in his car to search for Amber himself. Jimmie would arrive at the store at about the same time as an Arlington police officer, summoned by Jim Kevil’s 911 call did; the only remnant of Amber was her abandoned bicycle.
Law Enforcement, including the local police and the FBI (involved as a result of the pleas of Amber’s distraught family), coupled with a mass of volunteers began a wide net search for the missing girl, but came up empty. Amber had vanished.
Discovery
January 16, 1996 is a day that Amber’s family will never forget. Four days after she had been taken by an unidentified male from that Winn-Dixie parking lot, Amber Hagerman’s body was discovered in the early morning hours by an anonymous man walking his dog near the Forest Hills Apartment Complex in Arlington, Texas. Her body was found face down in a creek approximately 4 miles from her abduction site. Prior to this, apartment maintenance workers had been in that area and seen nothing, suggesting that the remains were either placed there after the workers had left or moved down stream by a torrential rainstorm that had just occurred. Amber’s family was informed shortly after the discovery, shocked they initially refused to believe the news with her father quoted in a New York Times article written at the time as saying, “She’s still alive” to the reporters covering the case and camped outside the Whitson home.
Amber was discovered wearing nothing but a single sock and the medical examiner would later confirm investigators suspicions, there was evidence of sexual assault and physical abuse, the cause of death: lacerations to the neck and throat. Additionally, the medical examiner stated that there was evidence that Amber had been kept alive for at least two days after her abduction before she was murdered, and her body disposed of.
Investigation Still Ongoing
More than 20 years later the investigation is still technically ongoing, to date the Arlington Police Department (APD) has not formally announced that they have any suspects or persons of interest. APD Detective Ben Lopez stated in a recent interview that the APD still receives tips regularly regarding the case and the department thoroughly investigates each one like it could be the piece of the puzzle that finally gives Amber’s family closure and justice.
An explanation of this unsolved murder most likely lies in the fact that Amber’s body was left in running water for an indeterminate amount of time, coupled with the storm that raised the creek level and most likely moved the body from the dump site, forensic evidence would have been all but erased and any physical evidence diluted or washed away. Not helping the investigation is the fact that there is only one witness to the crime: Jim Kevil was the sole person to come forward with information regarding the abduction, despite the fact that Amber was taken in broad daylight on a residential street. To date no one else has come forward with evidence or statements to aid in the apprehension of the unknown subject. Some reports assert that this is a result of the immigrant community in the area and the traditional apprehension of this population in talking to law enforcement thought that remains unsubstantiated speculation.
It is believed that Amber’s abductor and murderer was a stranger to her given that he took her by force and did not attempt to talk her into his vehicle. With this, I agree with the official narrative. Where I differ is on why Amber was taken. Based on the speed at which the abduction occurred it suggests to me that Amber may have been watched for some time before being taken. As stated previously Amber Hagerman was abducted in a window of approximately 8 minutes from when her brother left and then returned to bring her home. The official narrative is that this was an act of extreme opportunity when the perpetrator just happened to be driving by when he saw her alone. This would suggest that there was an event that triggered sporadic actions in the perpetrator, to quote a popular television show there must have been a stressor that induced this action.
Regardless of the why, the fact of the matter is that Amber Hagerman’s killer is still at large. He has gone unpunished for his heinous actions against this innocent little girl and by extension her family. As a result of chance and a fluke of nature no evidence or additional witnesses remain of what happened on that fateful winter day. Amber’s killer is nameless, and her family is left with no closure or answers, only questions and heartache.
Possible Suspects
Richard Lee Franks
Richard Lee Franks was charged on March 16, 2000 with the aggravated kidnapping of Opal Jo Jennings from Saginaw, a town a few miles north of Fort Worth. On March 26, 1999 6-year-old Opal was playing with her 3-year-old cousin in a vacant lot next to her grandparent’s house when Franks pulled up to the lot in his black Mercury Cougar. He then exited his vehicle and approached the kids feigning conversation with them. When Franks was close enough, he plucked Opal off the ground, punched her in the chest and put her in his car. What happened next was not unlike in Amber’s case, a large-scale search was launched for Opal led by her family and the local police department, it would not be for five years that Opal would be found. Her remains were discovered in a wooded area while two individuals were riding their horses along a remote trail. As a result of the state in which the remains were found, there was little physical or forensic evidence. What was clear was that the cause of death was most likely the result of a blow to the head. Franks would later be charged with Opal’s kidnapping but not her murder as there was no evidence to prove beyond the shadow of a doubt that Franks had indeed murdered her. In fact, he claimed that he had driven her to a local store to get a drink and left her there. What lends credence to Franks as a potential suspect is the similarity between Amber and Opal, and the way that they were taken. Both were seemingly impulse driven abductions based on the speed in which they occurred.
This link between Opal and Amber was not solely based on the research of internet sleuths. Mark Simpson, an investigating officer in the Hagerman case in an address to the National Children’s Advocacy Center’s 26 Annual National Symposium on Child Abuse to the fact that Franks had prior criminal history involving children, all young, brown haired girls and that Opal’s kidnaping occurred in the same county as Amber’s. Based on proximity, prior history, and similarity in method at the very least one could expect that APD would investigate Franks as a person of interest however, that has not been the case.
Terapon Adhahn
Born in Bangkok, Thailand. Terapon immigrated to the United States as a child when his mother married a U.S. serviceman and he returned to the United States. As he grew older Terapon would become a Buddhist monk as well as follow in his stepfather’s footsteps and join the U.S. Army. Adhahn has been connected to (either directly as the known perpetrator or suspected) multiple offenses, both resolved or unresolved, against children throughout Washington State including rape, kidnapping, and murder. He has also been questioned in connection the Amber Hagerman case by APD though has not been named as an official suspect.
In 1990 Adhahn was charged with sexual assault against a 16-year-old relative. This charge would result in him being forced to register as a sex offender and enter rehabilitation but as a first offense was not enough for him to be deported.
On May 31, 2000 an 11-year-old unnamed (for reasons of privacy) Spanaway County Girl was abducted on her way to school. She was bound and taken to a secluded training field close to the Fort Lewis Military Base where she was repeatedly assaulted over the course of an hour. After the assaults Adhahn left her bound on a road nearby where she would be discovered walking, still bound with her eyes taped over, by a Tacoma City Police Officer.
In December 2005, Adre’anna Jackson would also be abducted on her way to school, she disappeared from Lakewood in Pierce County, Washington and was never seen again. Over a year later, April 2006, skeletal remains were found in a field near her Tillicum neighborhood. Investigators showed pictures of Adhahn to residents who identified him as a known handyman who frequently worked in the area. He is regarded as a person of interest in this case.
On July 4, 2007 Zina Linnik had been watching a firework display with her siblings on a hilltop near her home when her father, Mikhail Linnik, on his back porch presumably also watching the display, heard his daughter cry out. When he arrived at the spot that Zina was taken all that was left was a single shoe she had been wearing, Mikhail also saw a gray Chevy Astro van speeding away and he was able to partially make out the license plate. Four days alter Terapon Adhahn was arrested for the kidnapping of Zina. However, this speedy apprehension was not enough, on condition of prosecution not seeking the death penalty, Adhahn led investigators to the remains of young Zina Linnik. She had been strangled with a zip tie though Adhahn would claim that her death had been an accident.
Additionally, while living in the Tacoma area, Adhahn was responsible for the care of an unnamed (again for the sake of privacy) 12-year-old girl. Her mother allowed the girl to live with Adhahn since she was unable to provide for her daughter, Adhahn only a “friend of her mother’s boyfriend”. Over the course of the next three years Adhahn would subject the young girl to repeated sexual assault, stopping only when she was able to run away after being assaulted at gun point.
Why Terapon Adhahn? It has been reported that, coupled with his extensive and horrendous history with children, Terapon lived for a time with his aunt in the Fort Worth area around 1996. During the investigation, law enforcement noticed striking similarities in the method of kidnapping, assault, and victims in the Adhahn case and with a few officers having been trained in Texas for the Amber Alert System, were familiar with the Hagerman case. Additionally, he used a similar vehicle in the Fort Lewis incident as was seen in Amber’s abduction. Terapon has been question regarding Amber's abduction and murder though not formally named as a suspect or even a person of interest.
Similar Cases
Heidi Seeman – San Antonio, Texas
On August 4, 1990 11-year-old Heidi Seeman was walking home from a sleep-over at a friend house the previous night. Her unnamed friend walked Heidi a part of the way home, to a midpoint between their houses at the intersection of Stahl road and Willow Run Street. Approaching the intersection Heidi’s friend as well as neighbors in the area reported seeing a red car with dark tinted windows pass by the girls slowly, and the driver watching them intently. Thinking nothing much of it, the girls parted ways and Heidi was never seen again. On August 25th, 1990 her remains were found in Hays County, Texas. No additional details were released regarding her death aside from the fact that a medical examiner ruled her death as a result of homicide.
Erica Botello – San Antonio, Texas
Closer in circumstance to Amber Hagerman, 7-year-old Erica Botello was taken on August 23, 1990 from the playground (or road next to depending on source) near her apartment complex. She was not unsupervised or alone the entire time she was playing. Erica was with her Father however he stepped inside for a brief time. When he went back outside, Erica was gone. Her remains would be found on August 25, 1990 in a storm drain about a mile from her home and abduction site. There is little information regarding Erica’s as she was and is eclipsed by the case of Heidi Seeman, a young white girl just a few years older than Erica, a girl of Hispanic dissent, from a wealthier side of San Antonio to the working class area that the Botello family lived in. Any information found on Erica is usually limited to brief sentences and always in tandem to Heidi.
Legacy and Aftermath
What happened to Amber Hagerman is not a mystery, it is known. She was taken from her family, held and assaulted over the course of two days, killed, and her body was disposed of in a creek not far from her abduction site. Her killer did all of these things without leaving any evidence, and slipped away. What isn't known is who did those things to her? Was it someone she knew? Had that person been watching her? Was this all really the result of chance and opportunity? One can hope that these questions, and more, will be answered one day but with each passing day the possibility that they never will be becomes all the more real.
It has been 24 years since Amber Hagerman was abducted and murdered yet her legacy lives on.
Amber’s abduction and murder was the impetus for the creation for the AMBER Alert System. This is a coordinated effort between law enforcement, radio, television, and cellphone broadcast systems to alert the general public in the region of an abduction to the incident and any information that law enforcement has on the abduction such as their physical description as well as the description of the vehicle they were last seen with. This system has resulted in the safe return of almost 1,000 children in the United States since its inception as a regional program in 1997, then national (and international) in 2000 however it is also under scrutiny for saving so few and being so annoying as an alert results in an alarm blaring through the device that receives it, and for saving so few. Critics question whether it saving just one life is worth it, is saving so few worth it?
I say yes.

Sources
Amber Hagerman
Arlington police mum about whether DNA evidence exist in unsolved Amber Hagerman case
CRIME HUNTER: Sleep interrupted? Think about Amber Hagerman Toronto Sun
[APD "Missing" flyer for Amber Haggerman, 1996] - Side 1 of 1 - The Portal to Texas History
AA28.pdf
Gale In Context: Biography - Document - Body of Kidnapped Texas Girl Is Found
Body of Girl Who Was Dragged Screaming Off Bicycle Is Found - Los Angeles Times
How Were Amber Alerts Created? The Amber Hagerman Cold Case - A&E
Child abuse symposium speaker tells of similar abduction/murder cases with different endings - al.com
Richard Lee Franks
Medical examiner: Remains are those of missing girl - Plainview Herald
Richard Lee Franks Texas Prison Inmates The Texas Tribune
FRANKS v. STATE FindLaw
Family prepares to bury girl who was abducted five years ago - Midland Reporter-Telegram
FBI, Texas Rangers investigating death of 6-year-old girl in Saginaw Fort Worth Star-Telegram
Terapon Adhahn
Adhahn pleads guilty to murder of Tacoma girl, 12 The Seattle Times
Killer of Tacoma child reveals motive in papers The Seattle Times
Terapon Adhahn pleads guilty to rape, murder of Zina Linnik HeraldNet.com
Child abduction-rape investigation widens - seattlepi.com
Heidi Seeman and Erica Botello
August marks 30 years since disappearances of Heidi Seeman, Erica Botello
1990 kidnapping, murder of two San Antonio girls still unsolved
submitted by TheMidnightArchive to UnresolvedMysteries [link] [comments]


2020.09.24 06:08 TheMidnightArchive The Abduction and Murder of Amber Hagerman

The Abduction and Murder of Amber Hagerman
A Trip to The Grocery Store
The late winter in Texas is a mild time usually, with steady wind and a biting chill in the air. The season is one of change, the life force of the previous year is fading away to succumb to a newness imbued by the heat of the Spring and Summer. January 12th, 1996 in Arlington, Texas was no different, the sun was shining, the wind was steady, and the temperature hovered around the mid-sixties. On this day Donna Whitson and her two children, nine-year-old Amber and five-year-old Ricky Hagerman were in Arlington visiting Donna’s parents, Glenda and Jimmie Whitson. The family arrived at their destination around 3pm and upon disembarking Donna’s car the kids asked to ride their bikes, the ones that Donna had her parents keep at their home for them. Donna, without a second thought, assented to the request with the limitation that the kids stay within a block of their grandparents’ home. She wanted them to be safe.
Once astride their bicycles and away from nagging adults, Amber disregarded the boundary set upon her and her brother. Amber led Ricky to the local neighborhood play spot, a shuttered Winn-Dixie grocery store and after approximately 15 minutes of riding around the parking lot and loading dock the younger Ricky was ready to turn back home, whether out of fear of being beyond their boundary or being tired is unknown. What is known is that Amber had elected to stay and ride her bike around the parking lot of the store on her own for a while longer, that Ricky went home alone, and that in the intervening time something horrible would happen to Amber that would shape substance and conscious of the her family forever.
On January 12th, Mr. Jim Kevil was sitting on his back porch looking out over his yard and fence, a view that happened to encompass the next-door Winn-Dixie store’s loading dock and the street it was on. Around 3:15 pm Mr. Kevil saw a lone young girl riding a colorful bike around the grocery store loading dock when a dark colored truck quickly pulled into the parking lot. Jim Kevil would later state that the driver of the truck was either white or Hispanic and between the ages of 25-40, this unknown subject grabbed Amber, who let out a scream and began kicking her abductor. The driver then put Amber in his vehicle before he sped off West bound down Abrams Road. Not just a passive witness, Mr. Kevil called 911 to report the incident to the police and to try to aid in the capture of the kidnapper and the return of the little girl. This would be the last time that anyone would see Amber Hagerman alive.
After arriving home alone five-year-old Ricky Hagerman was sent by his family back to the Winn-Dixie to retrieve his sister. Turning his bike around Ricky did as requested, only to return to an empty parking lot. Only a brief eight minutes had elapsed since he had last seen his sister, but it was too late; Amber was gone. Ricky once again arrived alone to the Whitson home prompting Grandfather Jimmie Whitson to race to the store in his car to search for Amber himself. Jimmie would arrive at the store at about the same time as an Arlington police officer, summoned by Jim Kevil’s 911 call did; the only remnant of Amber was her abandoned bicycle.
Law Enforcement, including the local police and the FBI (involved as a result of the pleas of Amber’s distraught family), coupled with a mass of volunteers began a wide net search for the missing girl, but came up empty. Amber had vanished.
Discovery
January 16, 1996 is a day that Amber’s family will never forget. Four days after she had been taken by an unidentified male from that Winn-Dixie parking lot, Amber Hagerman’s body was discovered in the early morning hours by an anonymous man walking his dog near the Forest Hills Apartment Complex in Arlington, Texas. Her body was found face down in a creek approximately 4 miles from her abduction site. Prior to this, apartment maintenance workers had been in that area and seen nothing, suggesting that the remains were either placed there after the workers had left or moved down stream by a torrential rainstorm that had just occurred. Amber’s family was informed shortly after the discovery, shocked they initially refused to believe the news with her father quoted in a New York Times article written at the time as saying, “She’s still alive” to the reporters covering the case and camped outside the Whitson home.
Amber was discovered wearing nothing but a single sock and the medical examiner would later confirm investigators suspicions, there was evidence of sexual assault and physical abuse, the cause of death: lacerations to the neck and throat. Additionally, the medical examiner stated that there was evidence that Amber had been kept alive for at least two days after her abduction before she was murdered, and her body disposed of.
Investigation Still Ongoing
More than 20 years later the investigation is still technically ongoing, to date the Arlington Police Department (APD) has not formally announced that they have any suspects or persons of interest. APD Detective Ben Lopez stated in a recent interview that the APD still receives tips regularly regarding the case and the department thoroughly investigates each one like it could be the piece of the puzzle that finally gives Amber’s family closure and justice.
An explanation of this unsolved murder most likely lies in the fact that Amber’s body was left in running water for an indeterminate amount of time, coupled with the storm that raised the creek level and most likely moved the body from the dump site, forensic evidence would have been all but erased and any physical evidence diluted or washed away. Not helping the investigation is the fact that there is only one witness to the crime: Jim Kevil was the sole person to come forward with information regarding the abduction, despite the fact that Amber was taken in broad daylight on a residential street. To date no one else has come forward with evidence or statements to aid in the apprehension of the unknown subject. Some reports assert that this is a result of the immigrant community in the area and the traditional apprehension of this population in talking to law enforcement thought that remains unsubstantiated speculation.
It is believed that Amber’s abductor and murderer was a stranger to her given that he took her by force and did not attempt to talk her into his vehicle. With this, I agree with the official narrative. Where I differ is on why Amber was taken. Based on the speed at which the abduction occurred it suggests to me that Amber may have been watched for some time before being taken. As stated previously Amber Hagerman was abducted in a window of approximately 8 minutes from when her brother left and then returned to bring her home. The official narrative is that this was an act of extreme opportunity when the perpetrator just happened to be driving by when he saw her alone. This would suggest that there was an event that triggered sporadic actions in the perpetrator, to quote a popular television show there must have been a stressor that induced this action.
Regardless of the why, the fact of the matter is that Amber Hagerman’s killer is still at large. He has gone unpunished for his heinous actions against this innocent little girl and by extension her family. As a result of chance and a fluke of nature no evidence or additional witnesses remain of what happened on that fateful winter day. Amber’s killer is nameless, and her family is left with no closure or answers, only questions and heartache.
Possible Suspects
Richard Lee Franks
Richard Lee Franks was charged on March 16, 2000 with the aggravated kidnapping of Opal Jo Jennings from Saginaw, a town a few miles north of Fort Worth. On March 26, 1999 6-year-old Opal was playing with her 3-year-old cousin in a vacant lot next to her grandparent’s house when Franks pulled up to the lot in his black Mercury Cougar. He then exited his vehicle and approached the kids feigning conversation with them. When Franks was close enough, he plucked Opal off the ground, punched her in the chest and put her in his car. What happened next was not unlike in Amber’s case, a large-scale search was launched for Opal led by her family and the local police department, it would not be for five years that Opal would be found. Her remains were discovered in a wooded area while two individuals were riding their horses along a remote trail. As a result of the state in which the remains were found, there was little physical or forensic evidence. What was clear was that the cause of death was most likely the result of a blow to the head. Franks would later be charged with Opal’s kidnapping but not her murder as there was no evidence to prove beyond the shadow of a doubt that Franks had indeed murdered her. In fact, he claimed that he had driven her to a local store to get a drink and left her there. What lends credence to Franks as a potential suspect is the similarity between Amber and Opal, and the way that they were taken. Both were seemingly impulse driven abductions based on the speed in which they occurred.
This link between Opal and Amber was not solely based on the research of internet sleuths. Mark Simpson, an investigating officer in the Hagerman case in an address to the National Children’s Advocacy Center’s 26 Annual National Symposium on Child Abuse to the fact that Franks had prior criminal history involving children, all young, brown haired girls and that Opal’s kidnaping occurred in the same county as Amber’s. Based on proximity, prior history, and similarity in method at the very least one could expect that APD would investigate Franks as a person of interest however, that has not been the case.
Terapon Adhahn
Born in Bangkok, Thailand. Terapon immigrated to the United States as a child when his mother married a U.S. serviceman and he returned to the United States. As he grew older Terapon would become a Buddhist monk as well as follow in his stepfather’s footsteps and join the U.S. Army. Adhahn has been connected to (either directly as the known perpetrator or suspected) multiple offenses, both resolved or unresolved, against children throughout Washington State including rape, kidnapping, and murder. He has also been questioned in connection the Amber Hagerman case by APD though has not been named as an official suspect.
In 1990 Adhahn was charged with sexual assault against a 16-year-old relative. This charge would result in him being forced to register as a sex offender and enter rehabilitation but as a first offense was not enough for him to be deported.
On May 31, 2000 an 11-year-old unnamed (for reasons of privacy) Spanaway County Girl was abducted on her way to school. She was bound and taken to a secluded training field close to the Fort Lewis Military Base where she was repeatedly assaulted over the course of an hour. After the assaults Adhahn left her bound on a road nearby where she would be discovered walking, still bound with her eyes taped over, by a Tacoma City Police Officer.
In December 2005, Adre’anna Jackson would also be abducted on her way to school, she disappeared from Lakewood in Pierce County, Washington and was never seen again. Over a year later, April 2006, skeletal remains were found in a field near her Tillicum neighborhood. Investigators showed pictures of Adhahn to residents who identified him as a known handyman who frequently worked in the area. He is regarded as a person of interest in this case.
On July 4, 2007 Zina Linnik had been watching a firework display with her siblings on a hilltop near her home when her father, Mikhail Linnik, on his back porch presumably also watching the display, heard his daughter cry out. When he arrived at the spot that Zina was taken all that was left was a single shoe she had been wearing, Mikhail also saw a gray Chevy Astro van speeding away and he was able to partially make out the license plate. Four days alter Terapon Adhahn was arrested for the kidnapping of Zina. However, this speedy apprehension was not enough, on condition of prosecution not seeking the death penalty, Adhahn led investigators to the remains of young Zina Linnik. She had been strangled with a zip tie though Adhahn would claim that her death had been an accident.
Additionally, while living in the Tacoma area, Adhahn was responsible for the care of an unnamed (again for the sake of privacy) 12-year-old girl. Her mother allowed the girl to live with Adhahn since she was unable to provide for her daughter, Adhahn only a “friend of her mother’s boyfriend”. Over the course of the next three years Adhahn would subject the young girl to repeated sexual assault, stopping only when she was able to run away after being assaulted at gun point.
Why Terapon Adhahn? It has been reported that, coupled with his extensive and horrendous history with children, Terapon lived for a time with his aunt in the Fort Worth area around 1996. During the investigation, law enforcement noticed striking similarities in the method of kidnapping, assault, and victims in the Adhahn case and with a few officers having been trained in Texas for the Amber Alert System, were familiar with the Hagerman case. Additionally, he used a similar vehicle in the Fort Lewis incident as was seen in Amber’s abduction. Terapon has been question regarding Amber's abduction and murder though not formally named as a suspect or even a person of interest.
Similar Cases
Heidi Seeman – San Antonio, Texas
On August 4, 1990 11-year-old Heidi Seeman was walking home from a sleep-over at a friend house the previous night. Her unnamed friend walked Heidi a part of the way home, to a midpoint between their houses at the intersection of Stahl road and Willow Run Street. Approaching the intersection Heidi’s friend as well as neighbors in the area reported seeing a red car with dark tinted windows pass by the girls slowly, and the driver watching them intently. Thinking nothing much of it, the girls parted ways and Heidi was never seen again. On August 25th, 1990 her remains were found in Hays County, Texas. No additional details were released regarding her death aside from the fact that a medical examiner ruled her death as a result of homicide.
Erica Botello – San Antonio, Texas
Closer in circumstance to Amber Hagerman, 7-year-old Erica Botello was taken on August 23, 1990 from the playground (or road next to depending on source) near her apartment complex. She was not unsupervised or alone the entire time she was playing. Erica was with her Father however he stepped inside for a brief time. When he went back outside, Erica was gone. Her remains would be found on August 25, 1990 in a storm drain about a mile from her home and abduction site. There is little information regarding Erica’s as she was and is eclipsed by the case of Heidi Seeman, a young white girl just a few years older than Erica, a girl of Hispanic dissent, from a wealthier side of San Antonio to the working class area that the Botello family lived in. Any information found on Erica is usually limited to brief sentences and always in tandem to Heidi.
Legacy and Aftermath
What happened to Amber Hagerman is not a mystery, it is known. She was taken from her family, held and assaulted over the course of two days, killed, and her body was disposed of in a creek not far from her abduction site. Her killer did all of these things without leaving any evidence, and slipped away. What isn't known is who did those things to her? Was it someone she knew? Had that person been watching her? Was this all really the result of chance and opportunity? One can hope that these questions, and more, will be answered one day but with each passing day the possibility that they never will be becomes all the more real.
It has been 24 years since Amber Hagerman was abducted and murdered yet her legacy lives on.
Amber’s abduction and murder was the impetus for the creation for the AMBER Alert System. This is a coordinated effort between law enforcement, radio, television, and cellphone broadcast systems to alert the general public in the region of an abduction to the incident and any information that law enforcement has on the abduction such as their physical description as well as the description of the vehicle they were last seen with. This system has resulted in the safe return of almost 1,000 children in the United States since its inception as a regional program in 1997, then national (and international) in 2000 however it is also under scrutiny for saving so few and being so annoying as an alert results in an alarm blaring through the device that receives it, and for saving so few. Critics question whether it saving just one life is worth it, is saving so few worth it?
I say yes.

Sources
Amber Hagerman
Arlington police mum about whether DNA evidence exist in unsolved Amber Hagerman case
CRIME HUNTER: Sleep interrupted? Think about Amber Hagerman Toronto Sun
[APD "Missing" flyer for Amber Haggerman, 1996] - Side 1 of 1 - The Portal to Texas History
AA28.pdf
Gale In Context: Biography - Document - Body of Kidnapped Texas Girl Is Found
Body of Girl Who Was Dragged Screaming Off Bicycle Is Found - Los Angeles Times
How Were Amber Alerts Created? The Amber Hagerman Cold Case - A&E
Child abuse symposium speaker tells of similar abduction/murder cases with different endings - al.com
Richard Lee Franks
Medical examiner: Remains are those of missing girl - Plainview Herald
Richard Lee Franks Texas Prison Inmates The Texas Tribune
FRANKS v. STATE FindLaw
Family prepares to bury girl who was abducted five years ago - Midland Reporter-Telegram
FBI, Texas Rangers investigating death of 6-year-old girl in Saginaw Fort Worth Star-Telegram
Terapon Adhahn
Adhahn pleads guilty to murder of Tacoma girl, 12 The Seattle Times
Killer of Tacoma child reveals motive in papers The Seattle Times
Terapon Adhahn pleads guilty to rape, murder of Zina Linnik HeraldNet.com
Child abduction-rape investigation widens - seattlepi.com
Heidi Seeman and Erica Botello
August marks 30 years since disappearances of Heidi Seeman, Erica Botello
1990 kidnapping, murder of two San Antonio girls still unsolved
submitted by TheMidnightArchive to u/TheMidnightArchive [link] [comments]


2020.09.22 15:07 FuryZuri I came here on the first day post-Dday and i am leaving exactly 2 months later

First of all: I (W25) am german so please don't mind the grammar and spelling mistakes and continue reading in an angry voice.I try to keep it as short as possible for someone who's literally making a living by talking (radio).
I've been with my exboyfriend (M27) for roughly 1 1/2 years and i am usually the ''why bother worrying about the future, just enjoy what we have now''- kinda gurl (still getting used to your slangwords), but this time it was different. I will spare you the whole ''we were special - everything seemed perfect and no issues at all''- speech, although that's exactly what it felt like, and get down to business:
Even on our first date we already talked about being open to other relationship models than monogamy and that we can talk about anything, if one of us develops certain needs (which never happend for me so far). In previous relationships the second i mentioned something like that, they'd usually looked in horror and tried to perform and exorcism on me.. so it was nice being able to communicate without being judged for once. It really felt like i finally matured into a relationship that was based on honesty and communication. Now let's all laugh together.I give you a minute to calm down again, while i finish my Pizza.
Aaaanyways: Dday came and i completely lost my shit. It was in the middle of the night and one of the most horrendous moments of my life. Let me paint you a picture: i was in my underwear, my heart just broke into pieces, i yelled, i ugly cried and decided i need to get as far away as possible. So i am speed-racing down four stories of my building trying to enter the basement (don't ask why - no f*cking clue). He's coming after me. I am literally in the zone. Can barley see with my red swollen teary eyes. And i ask him: ''Did you have sex with her''. And the person, i thought i'd have little mes with, looks me in the eyes and says ''yes''. So i punch into the wall and break my hand (we're in germany, walls are solid here). Again, no f*cking clue why i did it. Probably because i saw it in (american) movies and thought thats an appropiate way to react to such news. I am running outside, into the rain, roll naked and crying over the floor. strangers pass by and want to know whats wrong. i am pointing to my boyfriend and yell out in the most ridiculous babycrying-voice: HEeeE Cheeateed On Meehh.
Yeah.. not proud. But i kinda got my shit back together, went back upstairs, took 2 chairs, a bottle of schnaps, sat down with him and talked. It was weird, but kinda nice regarding the circumstances. I cried, ranted, threw things, laughed, made fun of him, hold his hand and in some moments we were even loving to each other. To sum it up: He told me everything, he was devestated, ashamed, and filled with self-hatred. Not once did he try to make excuses.Needless to say: i broke up. But i really didn't want to. But i had to right? He talked with a girl for a week, invited her into our bed, planned the entire evening and send her away. Together with my happiness.
Fast forward: and now i really try to keep it short! Turns out: He's not who i thought he is. And that's not referring to the cheating, but to his childhood trauma (neglect), that prevents him from A. loving himself, B. Feeling much emotions (he goes numb if something is painful or sad), C. He's a people pleaser, D. He's in constant need of validation and he doesnt feel like he's got a personaltiy. He ''just plays roles to fit the circumstances''. Apparently he sometimes feels a deep void (which he tried to eventually fill with sex) and crazy depressed.The list is long..The weirdest part: my mum wasnt even surprised when i told her about the infidelity. She works in the field and said, that she knew he's not ok and tried to give me hints (she knew how his parents behave).
As a consequence we ended the realtionship, but i really wanted to fight for us. He did all the right things. Admit hes wrongs, show remorse, acknowledged his trauma and is sincerley trying to heal. He had his first therapy session last week. But at the same time, he's so confused with his own identity, that he doubts his own capacity of love.. and that's where i was left.
A guy i truley believe is an awesome, kind human being fighting with his demons, trying to be better and not able to let me in.At first i thought the cheating could result in an better, more honest relationship, because its all on the table now. isnt it? But at the same time, i didnt know if i could get over the cheating and betrayal. especially if the WS doesnt even fight for you in the way you'd expect it. I am not even mad about it, because i realize, that he needs to figure out shit about himself before he can commit to another person. But it sucked. honestly. Cause i felt the love. Although he didnt say it. We were longing for eachother and literally looking at the moon crying just couple 100meters apart.
All i could do was trying to focus on myself. Getting healthy (couldnt eat and started smoking) and happy again, without focussing on reconcilation. Although that's all i wanted.I decided to move cities for a month and started an intership. And of course - reading every single freaking reddit post in here. Cheers to you people, for guiding me through hell.
We never really went full No Contact.. Max was a week.. but oh boy! That worked wonders for me! After 6-7 weeks of overthinking, longing, missing, craving and talking about it nonstop to EVERYONE.. i finally found peace. it kinde just happend over night. It slowly got better and i cried less each day, but one day i just woke up and thought: ''you know what.. a future without XY doesnt seem too bad''.
And that's the feeling i kept since then. Sure, i miss him, i sometimes wonder, but i spent the last 4 weeks solely working on myself, writing down mantras, meditating, watching motivational videos and working really really intensly on my selfesteem and selflove.
And now.. to the day 2 Months after DDAY, i no longer feel the need to visit this channel to feel less alone and understood. It's not what i expected, when i first came to this channel, i genuinely thought i would fight till the end to get back with him.. and i surley did not expect it to happen THAT FAST, but i think i am finally a grown ass woman, that actually is able to put herself first.
So i thought it's my turn to say THANK YOU by writing down my story and hopefully make you guys feel a little bit less hopeless and lost. Because I KNOW the day will come and then YOU will wake up and think ''i can do this on my own''.
submitted by FuryZuri to survivinginfidelity [link] [comments]


2020.09.22 02:51 catcraze1 48 hours to go....need to vent a little

I am 39w 3d. Being induced (by choice) on Wednesday (provided the hospital is not busy/full and has room/bed for me) night. I thought I would never get to this week. My Due date is actually the 25th (Friday). This is our 4th baby + 1 angel.
The bad parts:
I have felt amazing up until this past weekend, with the exception of sciatica when i move or sit in certain positions. Now all of a sudden, baby (boy #3) pushes down on my cervix to the point I expect my water to break. I've had numbness in my thighs, my feet and calf muscles have started to swell, don't even get me started on the constipation. Sleeping is almost nonexistent. I am up every 30 min to an hour going pee, changing positions or dealing with our 3 year old. Ive been so hot, my air conditioning stayed on 69 until the weather started to feel like fall. I miss mine and DH sex life. He is too afraid to make something go wrong (like a bleed) or put me in labor before we are ready (our sitter lives an hour away) so he wont touch me again until after the postpartum visit clears me for sex again. Ive told my husband idk which im more excited for, bringing our 4th baby home or being able to have fan-FUCKING-tastic sex again.
The good parts:
I am at the very end. Trying not to stress about last minute to-do's. Tomorrow morning I go for my COVID test for the induction. As of 2 weeks (September 10th) I was 2 cm, which means I won't have to have a folly balloon/ catheter. Baby has been healthy this whole time as have I. (With my last baby we had a partial placental previa and she was born at 36w6d due to IUGR and spent 15 days in the hospital mainly to gain weight- state law does not allow babies under 4 lbs to be discharged) At my 31w growth ultrasound baby was perfect and I've been told to expect a 7+ pound baby (my biggest was 7 lb 9.9 oz). Which makes me super happy.
All in all I am super happy with the way things have gone this pregnancy. I guess i am growing impatient for Wednesday night to finally get here. Its been hard with a 13, 6 and 3 year old. I cant do the things I used too, like chase them around the yard or play outside all day. Im ready to meet my little dude and hold him. I've never successfully breastfed any of my other babies. I did pump for 3 months with my last, which is better than nothing. So I'm super excited to try my hand at it again. I've gotten so prepared for breastfeeding that today (just in case) I bought the only bottle I plan to have to buy.
I know compared to others I may sound like a whiney brat. But I just wanted to share with someone how I am feeling.
I hope all the pregnant woman out there in this sub, and the new FTM and moms to newborns (weather 2nd or more) are all doing the best they can and are all happy and healthy (the babies too!)
Belly to belly hugs, virtual hugs, sending positive vibes, good luck, best wishes, prayers and so much more to us all. God speed.
-me
submitted by catcraze1 to pregnant [link] [comments]


2020.09.21 10:41 BIGCBG Missed meth connection

During my last relapse after finding some meth off Grindr. I matched with this dude who said he didn’t wanna fuck and actually didn’t ! He was a male prostitute (Femboy) he gave me shards to kinda be like security outside while he turned tricks in his room.
I must’ve shot at least .8 he gave about 1.5 grams and I crushed it all and tried to shoot half missed in my arm and shot the rest . I got WAYYY too high and I started looking out his windows being all creepy, waking back and forth and waiting for tricks lol. He eventually kicked me out .
I left his house in the morning and caught the train back to my friends house where my car was Parked. The male hooker got me a Lyft to his house which I thought was cool at the time lol. As I got off this train this beautiful girl who was clearly spun af, eyes like saucers asked me if I had a car . Which is weird question at a train station but i said I did . She looked like Teanna TRump the porn star but clearly a tweaker.
It almost felt like love at first sight. We chatted on the bus to my friends house where my car was parked after we got off the train. It felt like we were about to go on a wild adventure . That would last much more than a day . We got to my friends house and I shot a smudge of heroin i just so happened to have because I was still very high from the night before about to drive to Orange County from SFV
She filled my tank and bought me cigarettes and we started driving . Showing each other music. She had such good taste in music. Much better than my current girlfriend who I was dating at the time also. I remember thinking “_____ would never listen to this !” We were going song for song showing each other such good songs dancing and laughing . Eye fucking each other in the car . Then she tells me to pull over
She prepares a huge shot of meth but she wants to boof it. I say to her why don’t we just shoot it? She’s like no I’m telling you this is better . She boofs half with her feet on my dash then hands it to me. I finish it off and boof the rest. Then we get back on the road otw to her apartment . Vibing out really connecting . I’m rubbing her legs etc but I’m kind of intimidated because she so hot me but she keeps calling me babe.
We make it to her apartment . And we lay on her bed. Directly across from it is the door to her backyard that has no blinds . I keep seeing a tree shake and it’s sketching me out . I’m not even aware that I’m violently way too high . That heroin made me forget how much meth I did the night before . The boof in the car was too much on top of it. I can’t stop looking outside . She’s trying to talk to me and calm me down . It’s not working. I go outside smoke a cigarette and. Throw it Over her wall outside .
I tell her I’m going to buy blunts when I leave I see apt staff in the bushes by her wall. This makes me 20x more paranoid . (I didn’t know but my cigarette started a small fire they were putting it out) I get the blunts and come back. I roll a blunt and smoke it we’re talking but I’m not being smooth I’m just talking about random shit she’s trying to connect with me but I’m scared to make a move and just fucking kiss because she’s so beautiful to me plus I’m really paranoid . A lot of my paranoia has to do with the fact she had an eviction notice on her door. I can’t stop looking outside and also I tell her about the staff in the bushes by her wall. Now she’s paranoid a little. As were smoking there’s a knock on her door.
She’s terrified and thinks it’s the cops and says don’t answer it. For some reason I’m not scared (but I’m scared of her) and answer it. It’s staff saying someone set the brush outside on fire with a cigarette and also that there’s complaints of weed smell and there’s no smoking on top of that A***** was supposed to vacate her apartment weeks ago . I tell them we’re packing she’s sick and she’ll call apt mgmt in the morning . They actually left us alone after that .
I come back in and report what happened. And on top of all this I can’t stop looking out the window . She’s paranoid too now and thinks I’m setting her up . She puts her Broken closet door in front of the glass back door. I keep looking out of it. She’s yelling at me now to stop. She calls some dude that’s her friend . She has some meth I crush it all up probably 2 gs. Shoot about 60 ccs of glue . She says that was a lot doesn’t do a shot herself .
I say I’m going on a walk and coming back. I get back the doors locked they won’t open it. I bang on it for 15 minutes until they let me in. I grab my speaker and go to my car. They leave too and go to her friends car . I say something like i wish it didn’t happen like this. She said are you ok with genuine concern ? I’m talking to her but not looking at her she thinks I’m talking to myself
Her friend speeds off . I drive home high as fuck barely make it home. I think back to this day all the time. I should mention my girlfriend is calling / texting me while all this happening and I’m ignoring her. I hung out with A***** one more time after this which I’ll write about another time. But I always go back in time to this day in my mind. From the moment our eyes first locked all the way until we walked into her apartment we had amazing chemistry and should’ve had amazing sex but everything went wrong. Both of our lives were falling apart at this time. She was hooking lost her car and just got evicted. I was losing everything too. I often wonder if we would’ve had sex would we have just ended up homeless together living in my car . Would we have overdosed or ended up in jail. I would’ve definitely lost my girlfriend who I live with and who helps me in every aspect of my life even during my relapses . A***** hasn’t posted on social media in over a year . I wonder if she’s still alive. I think about her all the time
submitted by BIGCBG to Stims [link] [comments]


2020.09.21 08:53 BIGCBG Missed Meth Love Connection

Posting this because I forgot to tell my therapist .
Anyway During my last relapse after finding some meth off Grindr. I matched with this dude who said he didn’t wanna fuck and actually didn’t ! He was a male prostitute (Femboy) he gave me shards to kinda be like security outside while he turned tricks in his room.
I must’ve shot at least .8 he gave about 1.5 grams and I crushed it all and tried to shoot half missed in my arm and shot the rest . I got WAYYY too high and I started looking out his windows being all creepy, waking back and forth and waiting for tricks lol. He eventually kicked me out .
I left his house in the morning and caught the train back to my friends house where my car was Parked. The male hooker got me a Lyft to his house which I thought was cool at the time lol. As I got off this train this beautiful girl who was clearly spun af, eyes like saucers asked me if I had a car . Which is weird question at a train station but i said I did . She looked like Teanna TRump the porn star but clearly a tweaker.
It almost felt like love at first sight. We chatted on the bus to my friends house where my car was parked after we got off the train. It felt like we were about to go on a wild adventure . That would last much more than a day . We got to my friends house and I shot a smudge of heroin i just so happened to have because I was still very high from the night before about to drive to Orange County from SFV
She filled my tank and bought me cigarettes and we started driving . Showing each other music. She had such good taste in music. Much better than my current girlfriend who I was dating at the time also. I remember thinking “_____ would never listen to this !” We were going song for song showing each other such good songs dancing and laughing . Eye fucking each other in the car . Then she tells me to pull over
She prepares a huge shot of meth but she wants to boof it. I say to her why don’t we just shoot it? She’s like no I’m telling you this is better . She boofs half with her feet on my dash then hands it to me. I finish it off and boof the rest. Then we get back on the road otw to her apartment . Vibing out really connecting . I’m rubbing her legs etc but I’m kind of intimidated because she so hot me but she keeps calling me babe.
We make it to her apartment . And we lay on her bed. Directly across from it is the door to her backyard that has no blinds . I keep seeing a tree shake and it’s sketching me out . I’m not even aware that I’m violently way too high . That heroin made me forget how much meth I did the night before . The boof in the car was too much on top of it. I can’t stop looking outside . She’s trying to talk to me and calm me down . It’s not working. I go outside smoke a cigarette and. Throw it Over her wall outside .
I tell her I’m going to buy blunts when I leave I see apt staff in the bushes by her wall. This makes me 20x more paranoid . (I didn’t know but my cigarette started a small fire they were putting it out) I get the blunts and come back. I roll a blunt and smoke it we’re talking but I’m not being smooth I’m just talking about random shit she’s trying to connect with me but I’m scared to make a move and just fucking kiss because she’s so beautiful to me plus I’m really paranoid . A lot of my paranoia has to do with the fact she had an eviction notice on her door. I can’t stop looking outside and also I tell her about the staff in the bushes by her wall. Now she’s paranoid a little. As were smoking there’s a knock on her door.
She’s terrified and thinks it’s the cops and says don’t answer it. For some reason I’m not scared (but I’m scared of her) and answer it. It’s staff saying someone set the brush outside on fire with a cigarette and also that there’s complaints of weed smell and there’s no smoking on top of that A***** was supposed to vacate her apartment weeks ago . I tell them we’re packing she’s sick and she’ll call apt mgmt in the morning . They actually left us alone after that .
I come back in and report what happened. And on top of all this I can’t stop looking out the window . She’s paranoid too now and thinks I’m setting her up . She puts her Broken closet door in front of the glass back door. I keep looking out of it. She’s yelling at me now to stop. She calls some dude that’s her friend . She has some meth I crush it all up probably 2 gs. Shoot about 60 ccs of glue . She says that was a lot doesn’t do a shot herself .
I say I’m going on a walk and coming back. I get back the doors locked they won’t open it. I bang on it for 15 minutes until they let me in. I grab my speaker and go to my car. They leave too and go to her friends car . I say something like i wish it didn’t happen like this. She said are you ok with genuine concern ? I’m talking to her but not looking at her she thinks I’m talking to myself
Her friend speeds off . I drive home high as fuck barely make it home. I think back to this day all the time. I should mention my girlfriend is calling / texting me while all this happening and I’m ignoring her. I hung out with A***** one more time after this which I’ll write about another time. But I always go back in time to this day in my mind. From the moment our eyes first locked all the way until we walked into her apartment we had amazing chemistry and should’ve had amazing sex but everything went wrong. Both of our lives were falling apart at this time. She was hooking lost her car and just got evicted. I was losing everything too. I often wonder if we would’ve had sex would we have just ended up homeless together living in my car . Would we have overdosed or ended up in jail. I would’ve definitely lost my girlfriend who I live with and who helps me in every aspect of my life even during my relapses . A***** hasn’t posted on social media in over a year . I wonder if she’s still alive
submitted by BIGCBG to meth [link] [comments]


2020.09.21 02:47 Leather_Term Meet Brock Pierce, the Presidential Candidate With Ties to Pedophiles Who Wants to End Human Trafficking

thedailybeast.com Sep. 20, 2020.
The “Mighty Ducks” actor is running for president. He clears the air (sort of) to Tarpley Hitt about his ties to Jeffrey Epstein and more.
In the trailer for First Kid, the forgettable 1996 comedy about a Secret Service agent assigned to protect the president’s son, the title character, played by a teenage Brock Pierce, describes himself as “definitely the most powerful kid in the universe.” Now, the former child star is running to be the most powerful man in the world, as an Independent candidate for President of the United States.
Before First Kid, the Minnesota-born actor secured roles in a series of PG-rated comedies, playing a young Emilio Estevez in The Mighty Ducks, before graduating to smaller parts in movies like Problem Child 3: Junior in Love. When his screen time shrunk, Pierce retired from acting for a real executive role: co-founding the video production start-up Digital Entertainment Network (DEN) alongside businessman Marc Collins-Rector. At age 17, Pierce served as its vice president, taking in a base salary of $250,000.
DEN became “the poster child for dot-com excesses,” raising more than $60 million in seed investments and plotting a $75 million IPO. But it turned into a shorthand for something else when, in October of 1999, the three co-founders suddenly resigned. That month, a New Jersey man filed a lawsuit alleging Collins-Rector had molested him for three years beginning when he was 13 years old. The following summer, three teens filed a sexual-abuse lawsuit against Pierce, Collins-Rector, and their third co-founder, Chad Shackley. The plaintiffs later dropped their case against Pierce (he made a payment of $21,600 to one of their lawyers) and Shackley. But after a federal grand jury indicted Collins-Rector on criminal charges in 2000, the DEN founders left the country. When Interpol arrested them in 2002, they said they had confiscated “guns, machetes, and child pornography” from the trio’s beach villa in Spain.
While abroad, Pierce had pivoted to a new venture: Internet Gaming Entertainment, which sold virtual accessories in multiplayer online role-playing games to those desperate to pay, as one Wired reporter put it, “as much as $1,800 for an eight-piece suit of Skyshatter chain mail” rather than earn it in the games themselves. In 2005, a 25-year-old Pierce hired then-Goldman Sachs banker Steve Bannon—just before he would co-found Breitbart News. Two years later, after a World of Warcraft player sued the company for “diminishing” the fun of the game, Steve Bannon replaced Pierce as CEO.
Collins-Rector eventually pleaded guilty to eight charges of child enticement and registered as a sex offender. In the years that followed, Pierce waded into the gonzo economy of cryptocurrencies, where he overlapped more than once with Jeffrey Epstein, and counseled him on crypto. In that world, he founded Tether, a cryptocurrency that bills itself as a “stablecoin,” because its value is allegedly tied to the U.S. dollar, and the blockchain software company Block.one. Like his earlier businesses, Pierce’s crypto projects see-sawed between massive investments and curious deals. When Block.one announced a smart contract software called EOS.IO, the company raised $4 billion almost overnight, setting an all-time record before the product even launched. The Securities and Exchange Commission later fined the company $24 million for violating federal securities law. After John Oliver mocked the ordeal, calling Pierce a “sleepy, creepy cowboy,” Block.one fired him. Tether, meanwhile, is currently under investigation by the New York Attorney General for possible fraud.
On July 4, Pierce announced his candidacy for president. His campaign surrogates include a former Cambridge Analytica director and the singer Akon, who recently doubled down on developing an anonymously funded, $6 billion “Wakanda-like” metropolis in Senegal called Akon City. Pierce claims to be bipartisan, and from the 11 paragraphs on the “Policy” section of his website it can be hard to determine where he falls on the political spectrum. He supports legalizing marijuana and abolishing private prisons, but avoids the phrase “climate change.” He wants to end “human trafficking.” His proposal to end police brutality: body cams.
His political contributions tell a more one-sided story. Pierce’s sole Democratic contribution went to the short-lived congressional run of crypto candidate Brian Forde. The rest went to Republican campaigns like Marco Rubio, Rick Perry, John McCain, and the National Right to Life Political Action Committee. Last year alone, Pierce gave over $44,000 to the Republican National Committee and more than $55,000 to Trump’s re-election fund.
Pierce spoke to The Daily Beast from his tour bus and again over email. Those conversations have been combined and edited for clarity.
You’re announcing your presidential candidacy somewhat late, and historically, third-party candidates haven’t had the best luck with the executive office. If you don’t have a strong path to the White House, what do you want out of the race?
I announced on July 4, which I think is quite an auspicious date for an Independent candidate, hoping to bring independence to this country. There’s a lot of things that I can do. One is: I’m 39 years old. I turn 40 in November. So I’ve got time on my side. Whatever happens in this election cycle, I’m laying the groundwork for the future. The overall mission is to create a third major party—not another third party—a third major party in this country. I think that is what America needs most. George Washington in his closing address warned us about the threat of political parties. John Adams and the other founding fathers—their fear for our future was two political parties becoming dominant. And look at where we are. We were warned.
I believe, having studied systems, any time you have a system of two, what happens is those two things come together, like magnets. They come into collision, or they become polarized and become completely divided. I think we need to rise above partisan politics and find a path forward together. As Albert Einstein is quoted—I’m not sure the line came from him, but he’s quoted in many places—he said that the definition of insanity is making the same mistake or doing the same thing over and over and over again, expecting a different result. [Ed. note: Einstein never said this.] It feels like that’s what our election cycle is like. Half the country feels like they won, half the country feels like they lost, at least if they voted or participated.
Obviously, there’s another late-comer to the presidential race, and that’s Kanye West. He’s received a lot of flak for his candidacy, as he’s openly admitted to trying to siphon votes away from Joe Biden to ensure a Trump victory. Is that something you’re hoping to avoid or is that what you’re going for as well?
Oh no. This is a very serious campaign. Our campaign is very serious. You’ll notice I don’t say anything negative about either of the two major political candidates, because I think that’s one of the problems with our political system, instead of people getting on stage, talking about their visionary ideas, inspiring people, informing and educating, talking about problems, mentioning problems, talking about solutions, constructive criticism. That’s why I refuse to run a negative campaign. I am definitely not a spoiler. I’m into data, right? I’m a technologist. I’ve got digital DNA. So does most of our campaign team. We’ve got our finger on the pulse.
Most of my major Democratic contacts are really happy to see that we’re running in a red state like Wyoming. Kanye West’s home state is Wyoming. He’s not on the ballot in Wyoming I could say, in part, because he didn’t have Akon on his team. But I could also say that he probably didn’t want to be on the ballot in Wyoming because it’s a red state. He doesn’t want to take additional points in a state where he’s only running against Trump. But we’re on the ballot in Wyoming, and since we’re on the ballot in Wyoming I think it’s safe—more than safe, I think it’s evident—that we are not here to run as a spoiler for the benefit of Donald Trump.
In running for president, you’ve opened yourself up to be scrutinized from every angle going back to the beginning of your career. I wanted to ask you about your time at the Digital Entertainment Network. Can you tell me a little bit about how you started there? You became a vice president as a teenager. What were your qualifications and what was your job exactly?
Well, I was the co-founder. A lot of it was my idea. I had an idea that people would use the internet to watch videos, and we create content for the internet. The idea was basically YouTube and Hulu and Netflix. Anyone that was around in the ‘90s and has been around digital media since then, they all credit us as the creators of basically those ideas. I was just getting a message from the creator of The Vandals, the punk rock band, right before you called. He’s like, “Brock, looks like we’re going to get the Guinness Book of World Records for having created the first streaming television show.”
We did a lot of that stuff. We had 30 television shows. We had the top most prestigious institutions in the world as investors. The biggest names. High-net-worth investors like Terry Semel, who’s chairman and CEO of Warner Brothers, and became the CEO of Yahoo. I did all sorts of things. I helped sell $150,000 worth of advertising contracts to the CEOs of Pepsi and everything else. I was the face of the company, meeting all the major banks and everything else, selling the vision of what the future was.
You moved in with Marc Collins-Rector and Chad Shackley at a mansion in Encino. Was that the headquarters of the business?
All start-ups, they normally start out in your home. Because it’s just you. The company was first started out of Marc’s house, and it was probably there for the first two or three months, before the company got an office. That’s, like, how it is for all start-ups.
were later a co-defendant in the L.A. County case filed against Marc Collins-Rector for plying minors with alcohol and drugs, in order to facilitate sexual abuse. You were dropped from the case, but you settled with one of the men for $21,600. Can you explain that?
Okay, well, first of all, that’s not accurate. Two of the plaintiffs in that case asked me if I would be a plaintiff. Because I refused to be a part of the lawsuit, they chose to include me to discredit me, to make their case stronger. They also went and offered 50 percent of what they got to the house management—they went around and offered money to anyone to participate in this. They needed people to corroborate their story. Eventually, because I refused to participate in the lawsuit, they named me. Subsequently, all three of the plaintiffs apologized to me, in front of audiences, in front of many people, saying Brock never did anything. They dismissed their cases.
Remember, this is a civil thing. I’ve never been charged with a crime in my life. And the last plaintiff to have his case dismissed, he contacted his lawyer and said, “Dismiss this case against Brock. Brock never did anything. I just apologized. Dismiss his case.” And the lawyer said, “No. I won’t dismiss this case, I have all these out-of-pocket expenses, I refuse to file the paperwork unless you give me my out-of-pocket expenses.” And so the lawyer, I guess, had $21,000 in bills. So I paid his lawyer $21,000—not him, it was not a settlement. That was a payment to his lawyer for his out-of-pocket expenses. Out-of-pocket expenses so that he would file the paperwork to dismiss the case.
You’ve said the cases were unfounded, and the plaintiffs eventually apologized. But your boss, Marc Collins-Rector later pleaded guilty to eight charges of child enticement and registered as a sex offender. Were you aware of his behavior? How do you square the fact that later allegations proved to be true, but these ones were not?
Well, remember: I was 16 and 17 years old at the time? So, no. I don’t think Marc is the man they made him out to be. But Marc is not a person I would associate with today, and someone I haven’t associated with in a very long time. I was 16 and 17. I chose the wrong business partner. You live and you learn.
You’ve pointed out that you were underage when most of these allegations were said to take place. Did you ever feel like you were coerced or in over your head while working at DEN?
I mean, I was working 18 hours a day, doing things I’d never done before. It was business school. But I definitely learned a lot in building that company. We raised $88 million. We filed our [form] S-1 to go public. We were the hottest start-up in Los Angeles.
In 2000, you left the country with Marc Collins-Rector. Why did you leave? How did you spend those two years abroad?
I moved to Spain in 1999 for personal reasons. I spent those two years in Europe working on developing my businesses.
Interpol found you in 2002. The house where you were staying reportedly contained guns, machetes, and child pornography. Whose guns and child porn were those? Were you aware they were in the house, and how did those get there?
My lawyers have addressed this in 32 pages of documentation showing a complete absence of wrongdoing. Please refer to my webpage for more information.
[Ed. Note: The webpage does not mention guns, machetes, or child pornography. It does state:“It is true that when the local police arrested Collins-Rector in Spain in 2002 on an international warrant, Mr. Pierce was also taken into custody, but so was everyone at Collins-Rector’s house in Spain; and it is equally clear that Brock was promptly released, and no charges of any kind were ever filed against Brock concerning this matter.”]
What do you make of the allegations against Bryan Singer? [Ed. Note: Bryan Singer, a close friend of Collins-Rector, invested at least $50,000 in DEN. In an Atlantic article outlining Singer’s history of alleged sexual assault and statutory rape, one source claimed that at age 15, Collins-Rector abused him and introduced him to Singer, who then assaulted him in the DEN headquarters.]
I am aware of them and I support of all victims of sexual assault. I will let America’s justice system decide on Singer’s outcome.
In 2011, you spoke at the Mindshift conference supported by Jeffrey Epstein. At that point, he had already been convicted of soliciting prostitution from a minor. Why did you agree to speak?
I had never heard of Jeffrey Epstein. His name was not on the website. I was asked to speak at a conference alongside Nobel Prize winners. It was not a cryptocurrency conference, it was filled with Nobel Prize winners. I was asked to speak alongside Nobel Prize winners on the future of money. I speak at conferences historically, two to three times a week. I was like, “Nobel Prize winners? Sounds great. I’ll happily talk about the future of money with them.” I had no idea who Jeffrey Epstein was. His name was not listed anywhere on the website. Had I known what I know now? I clearly would have never spoken there. But I spoke at a conference that he cosponsored.
What’s your connection to the Clinton Global Initiative? Did you hear about it through Jeffrey Epstein?
I joined the Clinton Global Initiative as a philanthropist in 2006 and was a member for one year. My involvement with the Initiative had no connection to Jeffrey Epstein whatsoever.
You’ve launched your campaign in Minnesota, where George Floyd was killed by a police officer. How do you feel about the civil uprising against police brutality?
I’m from Minnesota. Born and raised. We just had a press conference there, announcing that we’re on the ballot. Former U.S. Senator Dean Barkley was there. So that tells you, when former U.S. Senators are endorsing the candidate, right?
[Ed. note: Barkley was never elected to the United States Senate. In November of 2002, he was appointed by then Minnesota Governor Jesse Venture to fill the seat after Sen. Paul Wellstone died in a plane crash. Barkley’s term ended on Jan. 3, 2003—two months later.]
Yes, George Floyd was murdered in Minneapolis. My vice-presidential running mate Karla Ballard and I, on our last trip to Minnesota together, went to visit the George Floyd Memorial. I believe in law and order. I believe that law and order is foundational to any functioning society. But there is no doubt in my mind that we need reform. These types of events—this is not an isolated incident. This has happened many times before. It’s time for change. We have a lot of detail around policy on this issue that we will be publishing next week. Not just high-level what we think, not just a summary, but detailed policy.
You said that you support “law and order.” What does that mean?
“Law and order” means creating a fair and just legal system where our number one priority is protecting the inalienable rights of “Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness” for all people. This means reforming how our police intervene in emergency situations, abolishing private prisons that incentivize mass incarceration, and creating new educational and economic opportunities for our most vulnerable communities. I am dedicated to preventing crime by eliminating the socioeconomic conditions that encourage it.
I support accountability and transparency in government and law enforcement. Some of the key policies I support are requiring body-cams on all law enforcement officers who engage with the public, curtailing the 1033 program that provides local law enforcement agencies with access to military equipment, and abolishing private prisons. Rather than simply defund the police, my administration will take a holistic approach to heal and unite America by ending mass incarceration, police brutality, and racial injustice.
Did you attend any Black Lives Matter protests?
I support all movements aimed at ending racial injustice and inequality. I​ have not attended any Black Lives Matter protests.​ My running-mate, Karla Ballard, attended the March on Washington in support of racial justice and equality.
Your platform doesn’t mention the words “climate change.” Is there a reason for that?
I’m not sure what you mean. Our policy platform specifically references human-caused climate change and we have a plan to restabilize the climate, address environmental degradation, and ensure environmental sustainability.
[Ed. Note: As of writing the Pierce campaign’s policy platform does not specifically reference human-caused climate change.]
You’ve recently brought on Akon as a campaign surrogate. How did that happen? Tell me about that.
Akon and I have been friends for quite some time. I was one of the guys that taught him about Bitcoin. I helped make some videogames for him, I think in 2012. We were talking about Bitcoin, teaching him the ropes, back in 2013. And in 2014, we were both speaking at the Milken Global Conference, and I encouraged him to talk about how Bitcoin, Africa, changed the world. He became the biggest celebrity in the world, talking about Bitcoin at the time. I’m an adviser to his Akoin project, very interested in the work that he’s doing to build a city in Africa.
I think we need a government that’s of, for, and by the people. Akon has huge political aspirations. He obviously was a hugely successful artist. But he also discovered artists like Lady Gaga. So not only is he, himself, a great artist, but he’s also a great identifier and builder of other artists. And he’s been a great businessman, philanthropist. He’s pushing the limits of what can be done. We’re like-minded individuals in that regard. I think he’ll be running for political office one day, because he sees what I see: that we need real change, and we need a government that is of, for, and by the people.
You mentioned that you’re an adviser on Akoin. Do you have any financial investments in Akoin or Akon City?
I don’t believe so. I’d have to check. I have so much stuff. But I don’t believe that I have any economic interests in his stuff. I’d have to verify that. We’ll get back to you. I don’t believe that I have any economic interests. My interest is in helping him. He’s a visionary with big ideas that wants to help things in the world. If I can be of assistance in helping him make the world a better place, I’m all for it. I’m not motivated by money. I’m not running for office because I’m motivated by power. I’m running for office because I’m deeply, deeply concerned about our collective future.
You’ve said you’re running on a pro-technology platform. One week into your campaign last month, a New York appeals court approved the state Attorney General’s attempt to investigate the stablecoin Tether for potentially fraudulent activity. Do you think this will impact your ability to sell people on your tech entrepreneurship?
No, I think my role in Tether is as awesome as it gets. It was my idea. I put it together. But I’ve had no involvement in the company since 2015. I gave all of my equity to the other shareholders. I’ve had zero involvement in the company for almost six years. It was just my idea. I put the initial team together. But I think Tether is one of the most important innovations in the world, certainly. The idea is, I digitized the U.S. dollar. I used technology to digitize currency—existing currency. The U.S. dollar in particular. It’s doing $10 trillion a year. Ten trillion dollars a year of transactional volume. It’s probably the most important innovation in currency since the advent of fiat money. The people that took on the business and ran the business in years to come, they’ve done things I’m not proud of. I’m not sure they’ve done anything criminal. But they certainly did things differently than I would do. But it’s like, you have kids, they turn 18, they go out into the world, and sometimes you’re proud of the things they do, and sometimes you shake your head and go, “Ugh, why did you do that?” I have zero concerns as it relates to me personally. I wish they made better decisions.
What do you think the investigation will find?
I have no idea. The problem that was raised is that there was a $5 million loan between two entities and whether or not they had the right to do that, did they disclose it correctly. There’s been no accusations of, like, embezzlement or anything that bad.
[Ed. Note: The Attorney General’s press release on the investigation reads: “Our investigation has determined that the operators of the ‘Bitfinex’ trading platform, who also control the ‘tether’ virtual currency, have engaged in a cover-up to hide the apparent loss of $850 million dollars of co-mingled client and corporate funds.”]
But there’s been some disclosure things, that is the issue. No one is making any outrageous claims that these are people that have done a bunch of bad—well, on the internet, the media has said that the people behind the business may have been manipulating the price of Bitcoin, but I don’t think that has anything to do with the New York investigation. Again, I’m so not involved, and so not at risk, that I’m not even up to speed on the details.
[Ed note: A representative of the New York State Attorney General told Forbes that he “cannot confirm or deny that the investigation” includes Pierce.]
We’ve recently witnessed the rise of QAnon, the conspiracy theory that Hollywood is an evil cabal of Satanic pedophiles and Trump is the person waging war on them. You mentioned human trafficking, which has become a cause for them. What are your thoughts on that?
I’ve watched some of the content. I think it’s an interesting phenomenon. I’m an internet person, so Anonymous is obviously an organization that has been doing interesting stuff. It’s interesting. I don’t have a big—conspiracy theory stuff is—I guess I have a question for you: What do you think of all of it, since you’re the expert?
You know, I think it’s not true, but I’m not running for president. I do wonder what this politician [Georgia congressional candidate Marjorie Taylor Greene], who’s just won her primary, is going to do on day one, once she finds out there’s no satanic cabal room.
Wait, someone was running for office and won on a QAnon platform, saying that Hollywood did—say what? You’re the expert here.
She won a primary. But I want to push on if we only have a few minutes. In 2006, your gaming company IGE brought on Steve Bannon as an investor. Goldman later bought out most of your stock. Bannon eventually replaced you as CEO of Affinity. You’ve described him as your “right-hand man for, like, seven years.” How well did you know Bannon during that time?
Yes, so this is in my mid-twenties. He wasn’t an investor. He worked for me. He was my banker. He worked for me for three years as my yield guide. And then he was my CEO running the company for another four years. So I haven’t worked with Steve for a decade or so. We worked in videogame stuff and banking. He was at Goldman Sachs. He was not in the political area at the time. But he was a pretty successful banker. He set up Goldman Sachs Los Angeles. So for me, I’d say he did a pretty good job.
During your business relationship, Steve Bannon founded Breitbart News, which has pretty consistently published racist material. How do you feel about Breitbart?
I had no involvement with Breitbart News. As for how I feel about such material, I’m not pleased by any form of hate-mongering. I strongly support the equality of all Americans.
Did you have qualms about Bannon’s role in the 2016 election?
Bannon’s role in the Trump campaign got me to pay closer attention to what he was doing but that’s about it. Whenever you find out that one of your former employees has taken on a role like that, you pay attention.
Bannon served on the board of Cambridge Analytica. A staffer on your campaign, Brittany Kaiser, also served as a business director for them. What are your thoughts on their use of illicitly-obtained Facebook data for campaign promotional material?
Yes, so this will be the last question I can answer because I’ve got to be off for this 5:00 pm. But Brittany Kaiser is a friend of mine. She was the whistleblower of Cambridge Analytica. She came to me and said, “What do I do?” And I said, “Tell the truth. The truth will set you free.”
[Ed. Note: Investigations in Cambridge Analytica took place as early as Nov. 2017, when a U.K. reporter at Channel 4 News recorded their CEO boasting about using “beautiful Ukranian girls” and offers of bribes to discredit political officials. The first whistleblower was Christopher Wylie, who disclosed a cache of documents to The Guardian, published on Mar. 17, 2018. Kaiser’s confession ran five days later, after the scandal made national news. Her association with Cambridge Analytica is not mentioned anywhere on Pierce’s campaign website.]
So I’m glad that people—I’m a supporter of whistleblowers, people that see injustice in the world and something not right happening, and who put themselves in harm’s way to stand up for what they believe in. So I stand up for Brittany Kaiser.
Who do you think [anonymous inventor of Bitcoin] Satoshi Nakamoto is?
We all are Satoshi Nakamoto.
You got married at Burning Man. Have you been attending virtual Burning Man?
I’m running a presidential campaign. So, while I was there in spirit, unfortunately my schedule did not permit me to attend.
OP note: please refer to the original article for reference links within text (as I've not added them here!)
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2020.09.20 17:17 AceTheBot u/MvKal found the post

What do you think of this essay that estimates the factors involved in female mating preferences?
Part I
Few questions are as important as the following: what selection pressures are humans facing, and are they eugenic or dysgenic? In other words, are we evolving or devolving? Of central importance to this question is the practice of human reproduction: children are produced when a man fucks a woman. The genes that lead to fucking, therefore, are the genes that are being selected for. So what genes are these? Who gets laid?
It does not suffice to use anecdotes. Sure, they may be correct at the end of the day, but on the other hand they may not be. Therefore let us approach this topic scientifically; no dudebro philosophy about game and muscles and whatever else here. Besides, men are hardly unified on what they think their anecdotes signify: one hopeful man will say it’s all about game, while another pessimistic man will say it’s the face, yet another will say muscles, and another money, et cetera ad infinitum.
Let us phrase the question scientifically: what factors explain what proportion of that variance in male romantic success? This question implies that the club scene will not be analyzed. Women may choose differently for one night stands than they will for a reproductive partner, and most children are intended or at least with a monogamous partner in the age of birth control and abortion.
Looking into the scientific literature on this question is quite frustrating. Frankly, it’s quite bad and I have only been able to unearth a few studies that offer only hesitant, partial answers. Yet the available evidence does allow a few important facts to be clear, and with sufficient reasoning other facts can be inferred. Probably the best study relevant to the question was one published in 2017 that asked women to rate men based on a photo and one of three descriptions of three traits each that were intended to be highly desirable, desirable, or less desirable. The women gave ratings for physical attractiveness, behavioral desirability, and dating desirability. It was found using multiple linear regression analysis (MLR) that sr2 was 0.55 for physical attractiveness and .20 for personality rating on the average. This means those two ratings alone accounted for 75% of the variance in dating desirability scores and that physical attractiveness accounted for 55% of that variance by itself, or in other words it accounted for 55% of the variance after factoring out its covariance with personality score and so on for the personality score. One interesting thing to note is that they also asked the same thing to the mothers of the women and found that physical attractiveness accounts for about 33% of the variance and personality accounts for about 40% of the variance in regards to how much the mothers desires their daughter to date the given man. This means that in traditional days, it can be inferred, at least according to this study, that reputation mattered much more than looks.
And let me comment on the word I used in the last sentence: reputation. That is precisely what the women and mothers were rating. This is, in essence, a component of social status and not direct behavior or “game” ability, and this is further evidenced by the fact that the men were described using reputation words - “trustworthy”, not “interesting”, mature, not “easy to get along with”. They were described in ways that their community as a whole would think of them, not in ways that are specifically meant to bring to mind the way the man will treat the woman. So being generous, we can say that direct behavior might account for the missing variance and maybe a small part of the reputation variance, meaning it might be as high as 30% but no higher. On the other hand, it could still be conceivably as low as 0% based on this single study.
What do other studies show? One type of attraction study seems to indicate that attraction has little to do with direct behavior, or in other words the personality that the woman experiences. These studies typically simulate dating in a controlled fashion and ask the participants the degree to which they would like to go on another date with whoever they met. One study published in 1966 found “The correlation between liking of the date and evaluation of the date's physical attractiveness is .78 for male subjects and .69 for female subjects” (4). The subjects’ looks were rapidly rated by four random raters, meaning that it is unlikely that the ratings were inflated or deflated by personality. R2 for women, then, is about 0.5, which means that about 50% of the variance in female desire to see the male date again can be explained by the male’s physicality alone. This is obviously in line with the findings of the 2017 study, meaning that this result has been replicated half a century later. The 1966 study also gave personality tests to the subjects: masculinity correlated with the female wanting to see the male again at r = 0.12, extroversion at r = 0.10, good manners at r = .12, and “self-acceptance” (confidence) at r = .14. In other words, variance in being a super-wacky extrovert, having good manners, acting “masculine”, and being confident account for essentially none of the variance in if the male is wanted by the female again. The study concluded that out of the metrics they scored, only physical attraviness predicted the women wanting to see the men again.
Another study from 2009 essentially replicated this finding (6). This study had the participants fill out tests to measure personality and then had them participate in a speed-dating event where each male met ten females and vice versa. Physique was pre-rated by each researcher with high reliability (intercorrelation = 0.86). These pre-rated scores correlated at r=0.88 (r2 = 0.77) with the extent to which the female wanted to see the male again after the date. Men were allowed to seduce, display IDGAF and abundance attitudes, and generally mog for five minutes. Still, “interest in sport activities” (r = 0.48, r2 = 0.23), which probably covaries with the physique pre-ratings (as I will explain), and physique were the only predictive variables. Big 5 traits correlated at most at r = 0.26 but were not statistically significant (p < 5%). One interesting thing to note is that the sample consisted of college students with an average age of 19; Interest in sportsball might have functioned as a serious reflector of status since women generally cannot gauge status based on jobs and money when it comes to 19 year old college students yet. Fresh out of high school, they were likely still influenced by propaganda that designates the sportsball players as high-status and popular.
As far as I have found, these studies are the cream of the crop when it comes to those which attempt to estimate the factors that predict male romantic success. Despite the field being quite barren, conclusions can still be drawn considering all of the studies have more than adequate statistical power and each agrees with one another. Physical attractiveness matters the most: each study estimates its predictive power at at least half the variance. Status matters, but less than physique. Direct behavior, or personality, explains little to none of the variance. This does not mean that a 5/10 trainwreck, anxious autist couldn’t get more girls if he somehow improved his social skills, but it indicates that game doesn’t work or is at least extremely rare within the samples. It does show that more natural differences in personality traits, ranging from extroversion to confidence, matter very little. Given that much of game consists of essentially telling guys to be more extroverted and confident, these studies suggest that that aspect of game is bogus.
Based on these results, I predict that if I were to run my ideal experiment and find how much variance physique, direct behavior, and status explain, I would see about 60%, 5%, and 35% respectively. Let us then apply the knowledge of this educated estimation on a number of hypothetical cases. Case 1: a man who is 5’8” with a 50th percentile face and a typical, skinnyfat body shape. He is somewhat introverted and has a few close friends, and is in university. He comes to me for my sage-like wisdom and asks, “O, wise one, what shall acquireth me the womb?” There are only two questions to ask him: “are you autistic?” and “do you have social anxiety?”. When he answers no to both, I give him my knowledge: “do thou worketh out and build thy muscle, and go on and gaineth thou status. Then the womb shall be for thee.” If his direct behavior is not an absolute trainwreck, if he is not a terrible autist, then no amount of confidence-game will help him. He already has sufficient confidence: if he didn’t, the variance in direct behavior would explain more of the variance in romantic success because a large number of men would be capitalizing off this easy “biohack”. Women don’t like him because he’s an overall 4/10 physically and has no status because he has few friends, no fame, and no money. Approaching 100 random women will most likely net 99 to 100 rejections by his looks alone. The ugly girls that go on one date with him will friendzone him when they find out he doesn’t like sports and he has 2 friends. And so Case 1 goes on, gets ripped, and makes some more friends and some notoriety and finally he finds a woman. Case 2: a 6’2” man who has been working out for a year and has something to show for it, with an average to above average face, approaches and says, trembling, “What do I do? I have been following the advice you gave Case 1 for a year and still I have no girlfriend.” I ask my questions, and he responds, “I-I have a lot of confidence issues and a lot of social anxiety with women.” He makes no eye contact and his voice is monotone. I tell him, “you are the one who is so rare that you do not even register in the variance in direct behavior in my studies of wisdom. You need to cure your autism, learn to make eye contact and stop turning off girls who would otherwise be into you by physically trembling when you approach them.” Later that night, he bangs 3 girls from the club because he took Xannies to control his shaking and MDMA to cure his autism. Finally, case three: the ghost of Elliot Rodger comes up from hell and asks me why no girls wanted him. I say to him: “You are physically a 4/10. You are an extreme malet who is half asian AND you have no status and who knows how autistic you were in your interaction with people. Surprisingly, despite constant propaganda telling them to race-mix, the innate urge against it is so strong that 90-95% of women date within their race, and if they do race-mix, you better know it’s a rich white male or at least a ripped black gangster with a BBC. It’s not a skinny, manlet happa. She can find a white manlet if that’s her thing.” He proclaims “Blackpilled Again!” as he descends back into hell.
Part II
I am going to justify the obvious: female physical preferences are dysgenic. You already knew this if your IQ is above 120, but nowhere have I seen this formally argued for. In fact, it is rather common for people on the forums I frequent to imply that selecting for muscles is eugenic. They are quite wrong. “By the age of 19, 80% of US males and 75% of women have lost their virginity, and 87% of college students have had sex. But this number appears to be much lower at elite colleges. Only 56% of Princeton undergraduates have had intercourse. At Harvard 59% of the undergraduates are non-virgins, and at MIT, only a slight majority, 51%, have had intercourse. Further, only 65% of MIT graduate students have had sex.” (17)
It has been clear since at least The Bell Curve that IQ is being selected against. The proposed causes for this phenomenon range from welfare checks to those with higher IQs acting more responsible. One overlooked cause is female mate preference: women care greatly about their partners physicality, and their physical preferences select against IQ and Need-For-Cognition (NFC). This is not to some great benefit in some other trait: outside of their preferences against the obese and the horrifically diseased, female physical preferences are stuck in 9000 BC. In other words, the trait they are selecting for is strength. Health is neutral or selected against, and intellect is certainly selected against due to the outdated, innate preferences of women.
In order to analyze the dysgenic effect of female physical preference, it would be helpful to know what exactly they are selecting for. One study indicates that above height and facial attractiveness, women appreciate large muscles (16). However, it is not necessary to derive a predictive model for physical attractiveness in men which assigns a percent of the variance explained to each trait, nor is it likely possible considering the current level of data. The reason why it is not necessary is because studies have already shown what factors women find physically attractive, and each can be shown to be dysgenic to some extent. These other factors are height and facial masculinity.
Having large muscles negatively correlated with intelligence and intellectual attitude. Having a higher NFC, or tendency to think deeply, strongly predicts spending less time in the gym compared to those with low to average NFC (8). Furthermore, time spent in the gym negatively correlates moderately with IQ (r ~ -0.30). Although some research indicates that muscle strength is linked to a longer life, this is likely flawed data due to obese subjects and the fact that most of it is collected on elderly people. Of course stronger elderly people are healthier, but why are they stronger? It is because they have not degenerated as much due to their genes. Even if it were to be accepted that strength correlates with health, the net effect of selecting for strong over nonobese, average men is still dysgenic because it selects against IQ. Furthermore, high IQ men that are selected against due to outdated female preferences are likely as healthy or healthier than resistance trainers because IQ is associated with longevity in itself (19), despite the fact that men with higher IQs exercise less. Next is the face. Facial attractiveness in men is associated with “perceived health” but not with real measures of health and virility (20). It is largely thought that women are attracted to faces of higher Testosterone men -- there is a negative or neutral correlation of testosterone with immune response (12,14). Testosterone is also negatively associated with longevity (21). Finally, there is no association between IQ and facial attractiveness on the genetic level according to twin data (11).
As for height: women like taller men and taller men are less healthy (18). A taller man in 9000 BC, however, is more likely to beat an equally healthy manlet in a fight. In 2020, the manlet will just pull a gun and the taller man will die.
As I previously wrote, physicality seems to explain more than half of the variance in male romantic success. Not only is physical attractiveness largely irrelevant to fitness in 2020, it is actually at least slightly unfit given its negative correlation with intelligence and need for cognition. Many healthy men are getting cheated out of children because in the eyes of women they are 4/10s, when in the reality of 2020 they are no less fit than an “attractive” man. Despite their face and their stature, they will probably live healthily to a ripe old age and they are likely to actually have a higher IQ than an “attractive” man. The solution is to enact what made Europe great from the beginning: enforced monogamy. Make average looking women settle for average looking men again. This model is both historically standard and has the benefit of not selecting against high IQ children like the fornication model of 2020 does.
Part III
I won’t say much on status and its dysgenic effects other than surveyed women say they actively prefer dumber guys than they could otherwise get. More specifically, when offered a choice between a 99th percentile IQ and a 90th percentile IQ man, they choose the latter (22). With other traits, such as kindness, they pick 99th percentile: as much as they can get.
The reason for this is probably mostly found in anti-intelligence propaganda like the nonexistent archetype of the “nerd”. Regardless, the only thing that saves high IQ men is money, but they’re often old if they get enough of it at all, and end up with a settled down 30 year old fresh off the cock carousel. IQ goes down every year, and women are to blame, at least in part. They choose every day to reproduce with dumber men due to their superior physique or status instead of reproducing with otherwise average high IQ men. This effect is dysgenic and female preference should be disregarded insofar as is required to correct the direction of our evolution.
Sources: https://oligarchicalneoformalism.blogspot.com/2020/02/part-i-few-questions-are-as-important.html
TLDR: Read it lazy. Or at least read paragraph 10 :)
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2020.09.20 17:13 AceTheBot A person posted this to r/AskTeenGirls back in March

What do you think of this essay that estimates the factors involved in female mating preferences?
Part I
Few questions are as important as the following: what selection pressures are humans facing, and are they eugenic or dysgenic? In other words, are we evolving or devolving? Of central importance to this question is the practice of human reproduction: children are produced when a man fucks a woman. The genes that lead to fucking, therefore, are the genes that are being selected for. So what genes are these? Who gets laid?
It does not suffice to use anecdotes. Sure, they may be correct at the end of the day, but on the other hand they may not be. Therefore let us approach this topic scientifically; no dudebro philosophy about game and muscles and whatever else here. Besides, men are hardly unified on what they think their anecdotes signify: one hopeful man will say it’s all about game, while another pessimistic man will say it’s the face, yet another will say muscles, and another money, et cetera ad infinitum.
Let us phrase the question scientifically: what factors explain what proportion of that variance in male romantic success? This question implies that the club scene will not be analyzed. Women may choose differently for one night stands than they will for a reproductive partner, and most children are intended or at least with a monogamous partner in the age of birth control and abortion.
Looking into the scientific literature on this question is quite frustrating. Frankly, it’s quite bad and I have only been able to unearth a few studies that offer only hesitant, partial answers. Yet the available evidence does allow a few important facts to be clear, and with sufficient reasoning other facts can be inferred. Probably the best study relevant to the question was one published in 2017 that asked women to rate men based on a photo and one of three descriptions of three traits each that were intended to be highly desirable, desirable, or less desirable. The women gave ratings for physical attractiveness, behavioral desirability, and dating desirability. It was found using multiple linear regression analysis (MLR) that sr2 was 0.55 for physical attractiveness and .20 for personality rating on the average. This means those two ratings alone accounted for 75% of the variance in dating desirability scores and that physical attractiveness accounted for 55% of that variance by itself, or in other words it accounted for 55% of the variance after factoring out its covariance with personality score and so on for the personality score. One interesting thing to note is that they also asked the same thing to the mothers of the women and found that physical attractiveness accounts for about 33% of the variance and personality accounts for about 40% of the variance in regards to how much the mothers desires their daughter to date the given man. This means that in traditional days, it can be inferred, at least according to this study, that reputation mattered much more than looks.
And let me comment on the word I used in the last sentence: reputation. That is precisely what the women and mothers were rating. This is, in essence, a component of social status and not direct behavior or “game” ability, and this is further evidenced by the fact that the men were described using reputation words - “trustworthy”, not “interesting”, mature, not “easy to get along with”. They were described in ways that their community as a whole would think of them, not in ways that are specifically meant to bring to mind the way the man will treat the woman. So being generous, we can say that direct behavior might account for the missing variance and maybe a small part of the reputation variance, meaning it might be as high as 30% but no higher. On the other hand, it could still be conceivably as low as 0% based on this single study.
What do other studies show? One type of attraction study seems to indicate that attraction has little to do with direct behavior, or in other words the personality that the woman experiences. These studies typically simulate dating in a controlled fashion and ask the participants the degree to which they would like to go on another date with whoever they met. One study published in 1966 found “The correlation between liking of the date and evaluation of the date's physical attractiveness is .78 for male subjects and .69 for female subjects” (4). The subjects’ looks were rapidly rated by four random raters, meaning that it is unlikely that the ratings were inflated or deflated by personality. R2 for women, then, is about 0.5, which means that about 50% of the variance in female desire to see the male date again can be explained by the male’s physicality alone. This is obviously in line with the findings of the 2017 study, meaning that this result has been replicated half a century later. The 1966 study also gave personality tests to the subjects: masculinity correlated with the female wanting to see the male again at r = 0.12, extroversion at r = 0.10, good manners at r = .12, and “self-acceptance” (confidence) at r = .14. In other words, variance in being a super-wacky extrovert, having good manners, acting “masculine”, and being confident account for essentially none of the variance in if the male is wanted by the female again. The study concluded that out of the metrics they scored, only physical attraviness predicted the women wanting to see the men again.
Another study from 2009 essentially replicated this finding (6). This study had the participants fill out tests to measure personality and then had them participate in a speed-dating event where each male met ten females and vice versa. Physique was pre-rated by each researcher with high reliability (intercorrelation = 0.86). These pre-rated scores correlated at r=0.88 (r2 = 0.77) with the extent to which the female wanted to see the male again after the date. Men were allowed to seduce, display IDGAF and abundance attitudes, and generally mog for five minutes. Still, “interest in sport activities” (r = 0.48, r2 = 0.23), which probably covaries with the physique pre-ratings (as I will explain), and physique were the only predictive variables. Big 5 traits correlated at most at r = 0.26 but were not statistically significant (p < 5%). One interesting thing to note is that the sample consisted of college students with an average age of 19; Interest in sportsball might have functioned as a serious reflector of status since women generally cannot gauge status based on jobs and money when it comes to 19 year old college students yet. Fresh out of high school, they were likely still influenced by propaganda that designates the sportsball players as high-status and popular.
As far as I have found, these studies are the cream of the crop when it comes to those which attempt to estimate the factors that predict male romantic success. Despite the field being quite barren, conclusions can still be drawn considering all of the studies have more than adequate statistical power and each agrees with one another. Physical attractiveness matters the most: each study estimates its predictive power at at least half the variance. Status matters, but less than physique. Direct behavior, or personality, explains little to none of the variance. This does not mean that a 5/10 trainwreck, anxious autist couldn’t get more girls if he somehow improved his social skills, but it indicates that game doesn’t work or is at least extremely rare within the samples. It does show that more natural differences in personality traits, ranging from extroversion to confidence, matter very little. Given that much of game consists of essentially telling guys to be more extroverted and confident, these studies suggest that that aspect of game is bogus.
Based on these results, I predict that if I were to run my ideal experiment and find how much variance physique, direct behavior, and status explain, I would see about 60%, 5%, and 35% respectively. Let us then apply the knowledge of this educated estimation on a number of hypothetical cases. Case 1: a man who is 5’8” with a 50th percentile face and a typical, skinnyfat body shape. He is somewhat introverted and has a few close friends, and is in university. He comes to me for my sage-like wisdom and asks, “O, wise one, what shall acquireth me the womb?” There are only two questions to ask him: “are you autistic?” and “do you have social anxiety?”. When he answers no to both, I give him my knowledge: “do thou worketh out and build thy muscle, and go on and gaineth thou status. Then the womb shall be for thee.” If his direct behavior is not an absolute trainwreck, if he is not a terrible autist, then no amount of confidence-game will help him. He already has sufficient confidence: if he didn’t, the variance in direct behavior would explain more of the variance in romantic success because a large number of men would be capitalizing off this easy “biohack”. Women don’t like him because he’s an overall 4/10 physically and has no status because he has few friends, no fame, and no money. Approaching 100 random women will most likely net 99 to 100 rejections by his looks alone. The ugly girls that go on one date with him will friendzone him when they find out he doesn’t like sports and he has 2 friends. And so Case 1 goes on, gets ripped, and makes some more friends and some notoriety and finally he finds a woman. Case 2: a 6’2” man who has been working out for a year and has something to show for it, with an average to above average face, approaches and says, trembling, “What do I do? I have been following the advice you gave Case 1 for a year and still I have no girlfriend.” I ask my questions, and he responds, “I-I have a lot of confidence issues and a lot of social anxiety with women.” He makes no eye contact and his voice is monotone. I tell him, “you are the one who is so rare that you do not even register in the variance in direct behavior in my studies of wisdom. You need to cure your autism, learn to make eye contact and stop turning off girls who would otherwise be into you by physically trembling when you approach them.” Later that night, he bangs 3 girls from the club because he took Xannies to control his shaking and MDMA to cure his autism. Finally, case three: the ghost of Elliot Rodger comes up from hell and asks me why no girls wanted him. I say to him: “You are physically a 4/10. You are an extreme malet who is half asian AND you have no status and who knows how autistic you were in your interaction with people. Surprisingly, despite constant propaganda telling them to race-mix, the innate urge against it is so strong that 90-95% of women date within their race, and if they do race-mix, you better know it’s a rich white male or at least a ripped black gangster with a BBC. It’s not a skinny, manlet happa. She can find a white manlet if that’s her thing.” He proclaims “Blackpilled Again!” as he descends back into hell.
Part II
I am going to justify the obvious: female physical preferences are dysgenic. You already knew this if your IQ is above 120, but nowhere have I seen this formally argued for. In fact, it is rather common for people on the forums I frequent to imply that selecting for muscles is eugenic. They are quite wrong. “By the age of 19, 80% of US males and 75% of women have lost their virginity, and 87% of college students have had sex. But this number appears to be much lower at elite colleges. Only 56% of Princeton undergraduates have had intercourse. At Harvard 59% of the undergraduates are non-virgins, and at MIT, only a slight majority, 51%, have had intercourse. Further, only 65% of MIT graduate students have had sex.” (17)
It has been clear since at least The Bell Curve that IQ is being selected against. The proposed causes for this phenomenon range from welfare checks to those with higher IQs acting more responsible. One overlooked cause is female mate preference: women care greatly about their partners physicality, and their physical preferences select against IQ and Need-For-Cognition (NFC). This is not to some great benefit in some other trait: outside of their preferences against the obese and the horrifically diseased, female physical preferences are stuck in 9000 BC. In other words, the trait they are selecting for is strength. Health is neutral or selected against, and intellect is certainly selected against due to the outdated, innate preferences of women.
In order to analyze the dysgenic effect of female physical preference, it would be helpful to know what exactly they are selecting for. One study indicates that above height and facial attractiveness, women appreciate large muscles (16). However, it is not necessary to derive a predictive model for physical attractiveness in men which assigns a percent of the variance explained to each trait, nor is it likely possible considering the current level of data. The reason why it is not necessary is because studies have already shown what factors women find physically attractive, and each can be shown to be dysgenic to some extent. These other factors are height and facial masculinity.
Having large muscles negatively correlated with intelligence and intellectual attitude. Having a higher NFC, or tendency to think deeply, strongly predicts spending less time in the gym compared to those with low to average NFC (8). Furthermore, time spent in the gym negatively correlates moderately with IQ (r ~ -0.30). Although some research indicates that muscle strength is linked to a longer life, this is likely flawed data due to obese subjects and the fact that most of it is collected on elderly people. Of course stronger elderly people are healthier, but why are they stronger? It is because they have not degenerated as much due to their genes. Even if it were to be accepted that strength correlates with health, the net effect of selecting for strong over nonobese, average men is still dysgenic because it selects against IQ. Furthermore, high IQ men that are selected against due to outdated female preferences are likely as healthy or healthier than resistance trainers because IQ is associated with longevity in itself (19), despite the fact that men with higher IQs exercise less. Next is the face. Facial attractiveness in men is associated with “perceived health” but not with real measures of health and virility (20). It is largely thought that women are attracted to faces of higher Testosterone men -- there is a negative or neutral correlation of testosterone with immune response (12,14). Testosterone is also negatively associated with longevity (21). Finally, there is no association between IQ and facial attractiveness on the genetic level according to twin data (11).
As for height: women like taller men and taller men are less healthy (18). A taller man in 9000 BC, however, is more likely to beat an equally healthy manlet in a fight. In 2020, the manlet will just pull a gun and the taller man will die.
As I previously wrote, physicality seems to explain more than half of the variance in male romantic success. Not only is physical attractiveness largely irrelevant to fitness in 2020, it is actually at least slightly unfit given its negative correlation with intelligence and need for cognition. Many healthy men are getting cheated out of children because in the eyes of women they are 4/10s, when in the reality of 2020 they are no less fit than an “attractive” man. Despite their face and their stature, they will probably live healthily to a ripe old age and they are likely to actually have a higher IQ than an “attractive” man. The solution is to enact what made Europe great from the beginning: enforced monogamy. Make average looking women settle for average looking men again. This model is both historically standard and has the benefit of not selecting against high IQ children like the fornication model of 2020 does.
Part III
I won’t say much on status and its dysgenic effects other than surveyed women say they actively prefer dumber guys than they could otherwise get. More specifically, when offered a choice between a 99th percentile IQ and a 90th percentile IQ man, they choose the latter (22). With other traits, such as kindness, they pick 99th percentile: as much as they can get.
The reason for this is probably mostly found in anti-intelligence propaganda like the nonexistent archetype of the “nerd”. Regardless, the only thing that saves high IQ men is money, but they’re often old if they get enough of it at all, and end up with a settled down 30 year old fresh off the cock carousel. IQ goes down every year, and women are to blame, at least in part. They choose every day to reproduce with dumber men due to their superior physique or status instead of reproducing with otherwise average high IQ men. This effect is dysgenic and female preference should be disregarded insofar as is required to correct the direction of our evolution.
Sources: https://oligarchicalneoformalism.blogspot.com/2020/02/part-i-few-questions-are-as-important.html
TLDR: Read it lazy. Or at least read paragraph 10 :)
submitted by AceTheBot to copypasta [link] [comments]


2020.09.18 13:11 dagodfather11 Day in the omnitrix S3 E4: Doggin

(O 10 tower)
Wildmutt: The prophecy is true
(Wildmutt gets up and leaves in the elevator)
Stinkfly: Anyway...
(9 to 5 by Dolly Parton starts playing as we see Wildmutt walking past 3 buildings and is about to go into the ice cream shop when he gets call on his omnitrix. He looks down in annoyance)
(Plane, right above Incursion alien trafficking base. Wildmutt takes a big puff out of a cigar and as the beat drops, so does Wildmutt. It doesn't take long for the ground forces to notice him, so they start opening fire upon him. Wildmutt, blank faced as ever, activates his nano shoulder pads and they both combined into a jetpack with wings and Wildmutt rockets downward into the danger, dipping and dodging through the blaster fire)
(Once he gets close enough, he disengages his jetpack and goes into a dive kick. He lands it square into one of the guards face and because of the speed of the kick, his face is now meat slush on the wall. Wildmutt then leaps onto another guard and throws him against the wall, ripping out his throat. He then dodges more blaster fire and retaliates by activating one of his nano pads into his shoulder gun which he fires back with, nailing a guard in the eye and another in the throat. Another guard comes up on him and tries to attack him, but Wildmutt grabs his arm and snaps it, elbows him in the gut, uppercuts him, grabs his legs, does a backwards body slam, rolls over his body, bits his head off, and throws it at the others as a distraction)
(He uses the opportunity to vault over the table to get cover. The Incursions start looking around. Wildmutt notices that he's been hit in his side, but he pays no mind to it. He pops out both of his shoulder guns. He leaps into the air and caps 2 guards in their faces. He hauls ass to a door while avoiding the shots. He shoulder charges the door, knocking it and a little bit of the wall around it out. He quickly lifts up the door and charges the rest of the guards while using it as a shield. He then grabs the door handle and then throws the door with the force of god and it decapitates one of the guards against the wall)
(Wildmutt charges the 2 of the 5 remaining Incursions. He slides under them both. He then punches a hole through one and trips the other, finishing him off with a neck snap. He then grabs one of their blasters and stands on his hind legs to shoot 2 of the guards and disable the last one. Wildmutt drops the gun and in a desperate attempt, the guard tries to attack Wildmutt with his tongue...Wildmutt catches it and looks at the Incursion with disappointment. He pulls the guard towards him, then back kicks him. He pulls him back again, then he punches him. He pulls him back a final time, only to grab his face and do a spinning face slam into the ground, ending the song and the guards life as his face is completely squashed into the floor. Wildmutt looks at his bloody hand)
Wildmutt: "Clean kill"
(Wildmutt shakes off the blood on his hand and doggy shakes the rest of the blood on his body away. He then barges into the bosses room)
Incursion boss: Wait wait WAIT!
(Without hearing a single word he says, Wildmutt shoots him with his shoulder gun. He then releases all the captured aliens, and then he leaves. Completely unfazed about what he just did)
(The Rath house, oval office. Rath is sitting at the desk arguing with Water hazard. Wildmutt walks into the room angrily at Rath)
Rath: MUTT! MY FAVORITE GOOD BOY. RATH KNEW YOU COULD DO IT. NOW HERE'S YOUR REWARD, (puts a briefcase on the table) $7 THOUSAND DOLLARS IN CA...
(Before he could finish, Wildmutt clocks hims across the face. He grabs the case, nods at Water hazard and Water hazard does the same. He then leaves)
Rath: THE HELL WAS THAT FOR!
Water hazard: Must've got in the way of his ice cream time. He doesn't fuck around with that shit
(Wildmutt then makes his way back to the ice cream shop but before he walks in, he gets another call on his omnitrix. He punches the ground and then answers the call in acceptance)
Gutrot: Hey, we need you to come in. Big important meeting tonight so we can't just set a normal lackey to...
(Wildmutt hangs up. He looks at the ice cream shop and then to the case of money. He then throws the case on the roof of the ice cream shop in frustration, then leaves)
(The cloud, Gutrot and Pesky dust base of operations for their drug ring)
Pesky dust: Bro, you sure we should've brought him in?
Gutrot: I'm just making sure that if the deal does go south, we can get out of it in more then one way
Pesky dust: You better be right about this. (He looks at one of their henchmen) You, go get me some tea. Sweet and that shit better have ice
Henchman: Yes ma'am
(The henchman goes wide eyed as he realizes what he just said. He turns around and Pesky dust is right in his face)
Pesky dust: The fuck did you just say?
Henchman: No no no, boss please, it was a mis...
(Pesky dust flicks him on the forehead, filling his head with his fears. The henchman screaming at the unimaginable nightmares jumping in and out of his head. He finally can't take it anymore, so he takes out his gun and shoots himself in the head. His body falls down to the floor)
Gutrot: What the fuck Dust!
Pesky dust: What? He called me ma'am!
Gutrot: Yeah I know, but when that usually happens, they end up going in the white room until their same again. The fuck did you make him see?!
Pesky dust: Look I'm tired of this shit happening, I am a fucking dude, and the next person who says otherwise, I will kill my damn self!
(Wildmutt comes into the room. He looks around and notices the body. He looks at Pesky dust in confusion and the walk off to the meeting room)
Gutrot: (looking at 2 more henchman) Clean this up, make sure no one disturbs us
10 minutes later
(The meeting. Pesky dust and Gutrot sit on one side of the table. Wildmutt is curled up at the end of the table. Wildmutt looks at Gutrot in annoyance)
Gutrot: Look, they should be here any second
(The door at the opposite end of Wildmutt opens. Bullfrag enters. Wildmutt pops up in shock)
Bullfrag: Whoa whoa what the fuck!
(Bullfrag pulls a gun on Wildmutt and Wildmutt points one of his shoulder guns at Bullfrag. Pesky dust and Gutrot do the same, both drawn on Bullfrag. Wildmutt growls at Bullfrag)
Gutrot: Little early for this isn't it Frag?
Bullfrag: What the hell is this Gut! Why is he here?!
Gutrot: He's here as a precaution just incase shit went sideways. Seems I made the right call
Bullfrag: Do you know who this is? This is the son of a bitch that just took down one of my cashes!
(Pesky dust and Gutrot look at Mutt and then back to Frag)
Pesky dust: Was it one of your cashes, or one of your "off the record" projects?
Bullfrag: Does it matter? My cameras caught this guy dropping in from a military grade jump plane!
Pesky dust: The fuck Mutt?
(Pesky dust turns his gun on Wildmutt. Wildmutt then stands on his hind legs and points his other shoulder gun at Pesky dust)
Gutrot: Dust what the fuck are you doing?
Pesky dust: Did you hear what he just said, Mutt might be a fed!
Gutrot: We already don't like Frag, so you're really gonna trust him?
Bullfrag: Oh fuck you Rot!
Gutrot: Now hold on now, you may be lying but trust me, these shots are no joke
(Four arms walks in the room through the open entrance with his taydenite pistols trained on each person in the room)
Four arms: I just got here and you guys started without me?
(He locks eyes with Wildmutt)
Four arms: Mutt?
Wildmutt: Quad?
Four arms: (surprised that he's speaking) WHAT THE FUCK?
Wildmutt: (looking at Dust and Rot) Why the fuck is he here, I told you not to bring him here when I'm here!
Gutrot: I thought since you knew him, the deal would go a lot smoothly!
Four arms: WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING?!
30 minutes later
(Outside of the cloud, nightfall, Four area's truck. Wildmutt lays curled up on the hood. Four arms walks up)
Four arms: So...that was something
(Wildmutt is Silent)
Four arms: Were you ever gonna tell us?
(Wildmutt still quiet)
Four arms: CUT THE SILENT BULLSHIT MUTT!
Wildmutt: Got nothing to say
Four arms: Your a fucking mercenary
Wildmutt: I'm a lot of things
Four arms: That's not helping. You know I have to tell the guys right?
Wildmutt: I wouldn't advise that
Four arms: What, you gonna kill me?
(Wildmutt looks at Four arms with agreement)
Four arms: What the fuck man!
Wildmutt: Look, I'm just saying, it would be best to keep my life out of theirs
Four arms: They can handle it
(Wildmutt pops up)
Wildmutt: No the fuck they cannot. The things they l go through on a daily basis, is breadcrumbs compared to the shit I've been through.The things I've seen, the things I've done...
Four arms: The people you've killed
(Silence)
Wildmutt: It's never personal. I don't enjoy it. Everyone has to be good at something, I just landed on being discreet and killing people....it's just a job
Four arms: Yeah, I get that. My hands aren't exactly clean either
Wildmutt: I'd be surprised if they were. Hmm, while you're over here integrating me, what was that meeting for?
Four arms: Well, we've been colliding for a while. Gutrot and Pesky with their hallucinations, sell like hotcakes. Bullfrag mostly moves coke, but as you know, he does some extremely shady shit off the record. Wildvine got out of the game 2 years ago. He made the most money with the green he cooked up and once he was set, he was out. Then there's me
Wildmutt: (confused) What, you move meth?
Four arms: Nope...candy
Wildmutt: (baffled) Oh you fucking mad man
Four arms: Like you said, it's just a job
(They both laugh)
Four arms: Look, I'm not gonna tell the rest. But they'll figure out sooner or later
Wildmutt: Trust me, they won't
Four arms Why you say that?
Wildmutt: Because I been at this shit for the last 9 years and your just now finding out about it. Off of convenience by the way. Speaking of, shouldn't we get back to the meeting?
Four arms: Oh no, the meetings done, total failure, no peace. They actually gave me a 5 min head...
(They are then fired upon. Quad and Mutt let out a flurry of "shits and fucks" as they get in the truck and drive away)
Wildmutt: Give me a heads up next time!
Four arms: Come on, don't act like you haven't been shot at before
Wildmutt: I have, doesn't mean I enjoy it!
Four arms: Come on, let's go get Grey and play some poker
40 min later
(O 10 tower, Four arms and Wildmutt are taking the elevator up)
Wildmutt: Remember, not a word
Four arms: (frustrated) Yeah yeah...I got it
Wildmutt: You good?
Four arms: No, it's just. Something bugging me about Grey. He doesn't seem right
(Wildmutt looks down, contemplating. The elevator stops, and they walk out)
Four arms: Hey guys, found a stray
Ghostfreak: There he is, where's Grey?
Four arms: Not showing, where's Blast and Sticky?
Ghostfreak: Asleep and on a date with his girlfriend
Four arms: Huh, so it was true.
Xlr8: Yeah, now get over here and get ready to chow down on these fajitas
(Four arms sits down at the table with Upgrade, Ripjaws, Diamond head, and Ghostfreak. Wildmutt curls up in a corner)
Ripjaws: These fajitas are the shit Xlr8
Ghostfreak: Yeah they're good, got nothing on a jailhouse burrito tho
(Silence)
Upgrade: The fuck is a jailhouse burrito
(Stinkfly then comes in from the sky opening)
Stinkfly: WHAT'S UP BITCHES!
Four arms: Someone's happy
Stinkfly: Hell yeah, I just had the best sex of my life!
(The O 10 look at each other)
Diamond head: That's a high statement
Stinkfly: Yep, she is amazing! Had me doing positions that I didn't even know existed, AND THAT'S SAYING SOMETHING
Xlr8: Aye simmer down there, some of us are trying to eat
Four arms: No, shut the fuck up. I am the only one who understands and respects Stinkys game. I'm proud of this man. Finally got a real girl, and she smashes good, my man is winning
Stinkfly: See, thank you, glad someone recognizes a player at work, and the cherry on top, she's on her way up for round 2
Four arms: Hell ya! That's my....
(The elevator dings, and out steps a tetramand woman in minimal reveling nightclub outfit. She goes wide eyed as she makes eye contact Four arms)
Four arms: (baffled) Daughter?!
(The entire O 10 stare, unholy amounts of what the fuck being expressed on their faces)
(Diamond head slowly slides Upgrade a $10 bill)
submitted by dagodfather11 to Ben10 [link] [comments]


2020.09.12 00:13 smsussma BEWARE: DO NOT download the "Curio" dating app!

A little over a year ago my girlfriend, Charlotte Campbell, died in a fiery head-on collision with a drunk driver. As DD of the night, she was coming home from a college party after dropping off a few friends, when her tiny 2016 Toyota Camry was blindsided by an 18-wheeler driving on the wrong side of the highway. By the time police arrived at the scene, Charlotte’s body was charred and burned beyond recognition.
Turns out the guy’s BAC was .13. He’ll be in prison for life and I’ll never see my girlfriend again. The only thing that seemed to survive the crash besides the degenerate who killed her, was the relationship bracelet that I surprised her with on our 4 year anniversary. It was the left half of a heart in rose gold with her initials engraved into it, while mine was a matching piece that fit into hers like a deciphered puzzle. Her remains were cremated in an urn and buried in a plot at Saint Agatha Memorial Cemetery. The bracelet went with her, so that she always has a piece of me wherever she went.
A year later, after graduating college, I got my first job, and rented out my first home. I was still completely confused by my girlfriend’s sudden death. It’s mainly the irony of it all that seemed incredulous. My girlfriend was never a heavy drinker to begin with and was always smart behind the wheel. So, it seemed all too unsettling that her life was taken by a drunk driver. I eventually concluded that some things can never be fully explained. Constantly obsessing and overanalyzing Charlotte’s death was counterproductive and stalled the recovery process.
One night, a tinge of horniness swept over me. I hadn’t had the emotional capacity to date or have sex in over a year. That desire in me remained dormant. With this sudden wave of horniness came guilt. Guilt that I was craving sex without Charlotte, guilt that I was craving romance in my life without her, and guilt that I may be ready to start seeing other people. I was pretty hesitant about the idea at first but decided that maybe, it was time? Maybe, I was using my girlfriend’s death as an excuse to shield me from the fear of falling in love again and the potential grief of ever losing that person.
I decided to start small, something with no strings attached and required minimal emotional investment. I had never used dating apps before but quickly opened up to the idea. That night, while looking into some dating apps to download, I got an email notification about an app called “Curio.” Puzzled, I clicked on it. The email read, “Welcome to Curio! Are you CURIO-us to meet that special someone? Click the link below to download our free dating app.”
Again, I didn’t know too much about dating apps besides the standard Tinder and Bumble, so I decided to give this one a go. I clicked on the link, which redirected me to the app store to download. Its icon was a black square with a peculiar red “C” in its center. I double tapped on it and moments later I found myself filling out basic questions about myself. My name, my age, I even spent about 10 minutes digging through my camera roll to find six solid pictures of myself. Upon searching, I discovered a few old photos of Charlotte and I, that I had completely forgotten about.
Some of these included: a picture of us in straw hats and leis during our spring break trip to Cancun, a picture of us kissing in front of the Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree, and a picture of us in matching USA tees during a beer olympics game, junior year. That picture in Cancun brought back a vivid memory of us coming back to our hotel that night, belligerently drunk, and calling ourselves the “Tequila twins.” From then on, before going to any event involving alcohol, we would say to each other, “The Tequila Twins are back at it again!”
The nostalgia was all too fleeting. To avoid tearing up, I quickly rounded up a few solo pictures to post on my profile. Moments later, I was presented with some profile cards. Most of the women on this app were pretty average looking, 6’s at best. I was continuously swiping left for a while before I gave up and decided to maybe try again tomorrow. It was getting pretty late and I needed to be up early for work the next morning.
To my surprise, I received a notification from Curio the following day that read, “Congratulations! You have a new match.” I was slightly confused by this, namely because I had no recollection of swiping right on anybody last night. However, I was pretty tired and assumed that I could have easily swiped right on somebody without even paying attention. Curious to see who this mystery woman was, I double tapped on the notification and was redirected to her profile.
However, I was horrified to see that this woman appeared to be a carbon copy of Charlotte. Upon further examination, this person appeared to share her same name and age as well. Hastily, I surveyed her profile and skimmed through her photos with a quickness. As these pictures became very familiar to me, my face grew hot with anger.
What sicko creates a fake profile of a dead person? I thought to myself.
Before I could message this asshole my two cents, I was interrupted by the user.
“Hey :)” they said.
“Whoever is doing this, please take this profile down immediately! You think this is funny??? What kind of fucking psychopath does something like this?” I shot back.
“Cam, it’s me :) Char.”
I could feel my heart throbbing out of my chest as beads of sweat spawned across my forehead.
My hands shook as I messaged back, “Please, fucking stop this now!”
“But I miss my tequila twin :((((”
At this point, I could barely breathe. I felt myself numbing out of reality as a sudden ringing in my ears took over my senses.
“Who the fuck is this?!”
“Cam, it’s me. Char! Please talk to me, babe :[”
Instantly, I shut off the app. I was so caught up in the madness of it all that I hadn’t realized that I was running late for work. I quickly threw on some clothes and rushed out of the house, writing off this mishap as some sick, twisted, joke.
As I arrived to work 10 minutes late, I was chastised by my verbally abusive manager for my tardiness.
“This is the second time this month, Cameron! Don’t let it fucking happen again!” he spat.
“Yes, sir.” I muttered, returning to my desk in a huff.
“Ahh don’t take it personally, man.” comforted my co-worker, Rob. “Big Ted’s just angrier than usual because of the um....divorce.” he whispered.
“Divorce?” I scoffed. “Isn’t he on his like, third wife already?”
“Fourth, actually.” Rob corrected. “First wife, cheated. Second wife got deported back to Russia. Third wife had a heroin overdose. And I think this one was just a rebound tired of his shit.”
“I hate corporate America.” I jeered, turning on my desktop. “By the way, have you ever heard of that new dating app, Curio?”
“Nope, I’m more of a Tinder type of guy. But now I’m...CURIO. HA, get it?! Curio...curious?” Rob joked.
I chuckled nervously while scrolling through my work email, hoping that my corporate job would calm me down and take my mind off of things. As I refreshed my inbox, a new email appeared from Curio about how I received another notification from the app. Again, I was a little confused about how this app somehow got access to my work email and was sending me notifications through it. Hesitantly, I clicked on the notification which revealed a picture message from “Charlotte.”
It was a photo of my back porch with a note that read: “The new place looks great...without me :/ We were supposed to move in together. Left a little gift at your door since you don’t want to talk to me anymore...”
While reading that note, I could feel my heart picking up speed as a wave of anxiety crashed over me. Clumsily, I stumbled right out of my desk chair and backed away from my computer in horror. As I fumbled around the floor for support, Rob helped me back up on my feet.
“Whoa, you okay man? You don’t look so good.” Rob asked, concerned.
“I-I gotta go, it’s an emergency.” I replied. Quickly, I shut off my desktop and rushed out of the building with fear in one hand and my jacket in the other. The ride to my house seemed to drag on forever. Yet, by the time I parked into my driveway my heart was thumping wildly out of my chest and I would do anything to be right back in my office.
I grabbed an old baseball bat from my trunk, and slowly approached the front porch. I was surprised to find the door still locked. Nonetheless, I searched every nook and cranny of my house for any intruders and thankfully, I was alone. Everything appeared exactly as I had left it and nothing was stolen.
I took a deep breath and laughed a bit. I couldn’t believe that I was allowing some internet troll to drive me nuts.
My location on the app is on, they could’ve easily discovered my location on Google Maps, taken a screenshot of my back porch, and sent me that message to try to mess with me. I reasoned.
Thus, I decided to return back to work and locked up on my way out. As I exited my home through the back porch, I was interrupted by a light crunching noise beneath my foot. I paused and lifted the heel of my shoe to discover a shimmering object dangling from it. After retrieving this mysterious object, my heart sunk upon closer examination.
It appeared to be a rose gold bracelet with the left half of a heart swaying from it, and the initials “C.C” engraved into the pendant. I twisted my wrist, revealing the matching piece. I suddenly realized that I hadn’t taken it off since the funeral. I fit my half of the pendant into the other piece, revealing a perfectly mended heart. Dazed and confused, I shook my head and abandoned the bracelet as quickly as I retrieved it. It landed back onto the doormat as I rushed back to my car with tears in my eyes.
Swiftly, I reached into my back pocket for my phone and aggressively began typing out a message to “Charlotte.”
“Please tell me who the fuck this is, right now?!”
I received a reply back in seconds.
“Cam, why are you mad at me? :( I miss you so much and this is how you treat your girlfriend?”
“This isn’t fucking funny! I’m filing a report.”
Quickly, I reported the account for “false identity”, unmatched the user, and deleted the app from my phone, altogether. I ended up crying in the front seat of my car for a bit before mustering up the strength to drive back to work. Luckily, Big Ted was out for the rest of the day at a press conference. So, I didn’t have to suffer any consequences for running out of the building with no explanation.
By the end of the day I felt pretty weighed down by stress and grief that I ended up passing out on my couch for a few hours. I was eventually woken up by the melody of my mobile ringtone. I checked my lockscreen for the caller ID, which displayed Rob’s contact.
I picked up and yawned into the speaker, “Hey, man. What’s up?”
“Yo, Cam! Hope I’m not interrupting anything, was just wondering what the name of that dating app was that you were talking to me about earlier?” he asked. “I’m getting so tired of these same old bullshit apps.”
I stretched a bit and scratched my head. As I perched myself up on the couch, I replied, “Yeah, it’s called ‘Curio.’ C-U-R-I-O.”
There was a brief pause as Rob quietly echoed the spelling into the speaker while tapping away into the app store search bar.
“Hm...that’s weird.” he said.
“What?” I asked.
“Can’t seem to find it anywhere. You sure I got the spelling right?”
“Yeah, it’s C-U-R-I-O. Curio.” I repeated.
“Hm. Yeah, bro. Can’t seem to find it anywhere. No worries, though. This phone’s pretty old. Could just be a glitch or something. Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow. Sleep tight!”
Suddenly, I was stricken with curiosity and began searching up the app on Google. Something, I probably should’ve done much sooner. I was surprised to find absolutely no information on the app, despite constantly receiving emails from the company and having downloaded it onto my phone. I even tried different variations of spelling and keywords to no avail. Defeated, I dragged myself up to bed and found solace in the fact that Curio wasn’t my problem anymore.
Yet, I was horrified to discover the app reinstalled onto my phone the next morning. I had also received another “Congratulations! You have a new match.” notification. After double tapping on the alert, I was redirected to the profile of my match. My face hardened and lost its color after realizing who it was. I had somehow rematched with “Charlotte” overnight.
“How?” I muttered to myself. Moments later I received a video message from the user with a note. As I squinted my eyes to get a better look, it appeared to be a video of my dimly lit room. The camera quality was terrible but whoever was filming approached my bed at such a distance, that the light of their camera flash fully illuminated the side of my face as I was sleeping in my bed last night.
Beneath it, the user wrote, “You’re so handsome when you sleep ;)”
At this point, It felt as if I was losing touch with reality. It was time to take this matter to authorities. I sped to the police station before work and after arriving, I aggressively slammed my phone down in front of two officers at the front desk.
“Hi, I believe I am being stalked by someone pretending to be my dead girlfriend on a dating app.” I blurted.
The two officers exchanged befuddled looks before one of them spoke up. “Slow down, son. Can you tell me your name and what app you’re even talking about?” he asked.
“Yeah, My name’s Cameron Hill. My girlfriend, Charlotte Campbell, passed away a little over a year ago and somebody on this app, ‘Curio’ is harassing me and pretending to be her. I think they know where I live. They’ve been sending pictures and videos of me, as well as the inside and outside of my house.” I replied, sternly. I unlocked my phone for them and opened the app.
Both officers narrowed their eyes as they inspected the screen for a few moments.
“You ever try Tinder, kid?” chuckled one of them—a stocky man who was suffering from a pretty extreme case of premature balding. I didn’t laugh. The goofy expression on his face faded rather quickly.
“Yeah, I don’t know what’s going on here but this app keeps freezing up and closing before I can even see anything.” said the other officer—a better looking version of his partner.
“You probably don’t have nothing to worry about, though. Usually these type of cyberbullying scenarios end up being carried out by a bunch of punks behind the scenes.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Cyberbullying? Sir, with all due respect. I believe that I am being stalked and hunted.”
“Listen, kid. If you experience any more threats, you have our number.”
I glared angrily at both of them, before snatching my phone and storming out of there. A complete waste of my time. I arrived at work five minutes late and received yet another verbal beating by my boss.
“You’re so fucking unqualified for this job, it isn’t even funny. If it weren’t for your rich ass father buying your way into every opportunity in life, you would be living on the streets. Lately, you’ve been offering absolutely nothing to this company. STOP SHOWING UP LATE!” he spat. I grit my teeth and forced a calm response, “Yes, sir. Won’t happen again.”
Luckily, work flew by and I was home before I knew it. Lately, the mental exhaustion of my life put me to sleep on my couch as soon as I got home. However, I found myself waking up a few hours later to a Curio message notification from “Charlotte.”
“It’s been three days, Cam. I miss you so much :/ Can we please meet up tonight?” she asked.
I then offered a speedy reply. “I don’t know who this is...But Charlotte Campbell, the person who you are impersonating is dead. Gone. Buried at Saint Agatha’s Cemetery miles and miles away from here. Now please, leave me alone.”
I then closed my eyes and massaged my temples for a few moments before my phone buzzed again. It was a much more grim message this time.
“You have until 9 PM tonight to come find me, or I’ll drag you to Hell with me.”
Once again, that wave of anxiety and dread swept over me as my heart thumped out of my chest. I took a second to think, before pulling out Google. I attempted to do a second search into the app where I was left with no answers. I then went back into my email and discovered that the original sender was anonymous and out of my domain. I even attempted to email this anonymous sender. However, the message failed and was apparently an “invalid email address.”
As I reexamined the first email, featuring the Curio ad, I noticed some very fine print at the bottom of the email, which read, “If your CURIO-sity is fulfilled. Please, pass this message along to another friend who lost a lover ❤️🖤We’re here to piece love back together.” I took a moment to think hard about what this all meant, but by the end of the night I had a feeling that I wouldn’t be hearing from “Charlotte.” ever again.
I woke up the next morning, very much alive and not in Hell. When I checked the lockscreen of my phone, all notifications from Curio had ceased and the app had somehow been wiped clean off of my phone, including any emails sent about them. It was as if the app had never even existed.
I arrived at work in high spirits and surprisingly, so did my boss. He even apologized for yelling at me the past few days and saying all of those mean things. He said that we have to, “Hold on tight to those who are there for us and to never take them for granted.” Since that day, nobody has seen him since. There was no formal goodbye or leave of the company. Theodore McClow, or “Big Ted” as we called him in the office, has been missing for months and hasn’t been found since that day.
Since then, I’ve moved to a different town with a different job. I’m much happier here and I’ve even met someone new without the help of dating apps. However, to anyone who gets an email about an app called “Curio.” PLEASE, DO NOT DOWNLOAD THE APP. Do as the fine print says...
submitted by smsussma to nosleep [link] [comments]


2020.09.11 08:43 Intrickate LSD + Hypnosis + Porn = A Good Bad Time (Funny Personal Story)

TL;DR at bottom
One night I went on an uneventful date and came home feeling a bit horny! I had 5 hits of acid at home and I figured the hell with it and took all five of them. I decided that once the acid kicked in I'd put on porn and go to pound town on my man sausage. And did the acid ever kick in. So I tried to keep calm, I dimmed the lights to set the mood, stared in the mirror and whispered myself sweet nothings, walked over to my bed, fluffed my pillows, and went on to everyone's favourite porn site... you know the one. For some reason that night I felt extra adventurous and decided to look up "hypnotic porn". Don't ask me why. The search results appeared on the page. Now when I search for porn, I only care about two things. A thumbnail that grabs my attention, and a video that isn't too short. Even if I'm doing the deed alone, I still believe in foreplay, a main act, and a big finish. So I find this video that's thirty minutes long and has a killer thumbnail. I press play. The video starts off with a simple set of rules. Essentially you have to follow the written instructions at the bottom of the screen. They are simple. Go slow, go fast, go faster, and stop touching yourself. The instructions fade away and a sultry voice begins to speak. A hypnotic, swirling image is overlapped by a steady stream of fast moving erotic images. I begin to follow the instructions. Go slow. The voice is speaking to me and also giving me commands, but I am not conscious of what it is saying. Go fast. More images flash before me at incredible speed. Go faster. I'm stroking my meat like a revved up engine. STOP. I release my grasp. I'm breathing heavily. The voice is still guiding my subconscious. Images seem to slow down. I catch my breath and take this moment to rest. And it begins anew. Go Slow. Go fast. Go faster. STOP. Go Slow. Go fast. Go faster. STOP! This goes on until the video finally ends a full thirty minutes later. The experience was AMAZING, but I felt a little cheated as I hadn't cum. There was nothing to worry about. I was more than willing to give the video another go. I re-fluff my pillow, pound back a liter of water (that's about a quart to you Americans), and reset the video. I read the instructions, wait for the voice, and once again get sucked into this hypnotic, erotic, wormhole. Slow, Fast, Faster, Stop. Slow, Fast, Faster, Stop. Slow, Fast, Faster, Stop. Slow, Fast, Faster, Stop. I had become a puppet. Better yet, I had become a sex zombie, craving not brain but sweet sexual release. Images flashed past my eyes in a fashion that resembled the Millenium Falcon hitting warp speed. I followed the instructions automatically and without any thought. I was powerless to defy them. The voice had unknowingly taken full control. In what felt like the blink of an eye, the video ended. I was left aroused and pleasured, but I had been cheated of my release once again. Not one to give up, I synched up the video for a third time. By now you should have a clear picture of what I was experiencing. When the video ended after the third time, my dick was limp. I had passed the last thirty minutes beating off what was essentially a wet noodle. My balls were swollen and hard as ball bearings. They throbbed in pain. After an hour and a half of jerking off, I still hadn't managed to cum. I was beginning to lose hope. But I had started this journey with a goal in mind, and I was resolved to achieve success. The acid had reached full potency at this point, and in the back of my mind, I could hear the voice beckoning me. I watched that movie three more God damned times. I spent a total of three hours stroking my dick, and I had nothing to show for it but burning balls and a dick that was begging me to end its life. I had blisters on my hands. Fuck I had blisters on my dick. My balls ached for 3-4 days. How could a video that brought me so much pleasure leave me so dissatisfied and in so much agony? Well, I later found out the reason why I had tortured my poor dick for three long hours was because I had been watching an edging video. And that sexy, alluring, seductive voice that had been commanding my subconscious had been instructing me NOT TO CUM. In fact, it had been telling me that the more I jerked off the less I would want to cum. Horny and high as fuck, I had managed to cockblock and give myself what had to have been one of the world's most severe cases of blue balls.
TL;DR : Jerked off to edging video for 3 hours on acid and couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t cum.
Edit: after some considerations, I’ve decided to share 2 more stories.
The titles will be
5 hits of acid + 10g shrooms + decarboxylated weed + vaping weed = trip to hospital
Ambien + 1 beer + 10-15g shrooms = The Hangover
submitted by Intrickate to tripreport [link] [comments]


2020.09.11 08:41 Intrickate LSD + Hypnosis + Porn = A Good Bad Time (Funny Personal Story)

TL;DR at bottom
One night I went on an uneventful date and came home feeling a bit horny! I had 5 hits of acid at home and I figured the hell with it and took all five of them. I decided that once the acid kicked in I'd put on porn and go to pound town on my man sausage. And did the acid ever kick in. So I tried to keep calm, I dimmed the lights to set the mood, stared in the mirror and whispered myself sweet nothings, walked over to my bed, fluffed my pillows, and went on to everyone's favourite porn site... you know the one. For some reason that night I felt extra adventurous and decided to look up "hypnotic porn". Don't ask me why. The search results appeared on the page. Now when I search for porn, I only care about two things. A thumbnail that grabs my attention, and a video that isn't too short. Even if I'm doing the deed alone, I still believe in foreplay, a main act, and a big finish. So I find this video that's thirty minutes long and has a killer thumbnail. I press play. The video starts off with a simple set of rules. Essentially you have to follow the written instructions at the bottom of the screen. They are simple. Go slow, go fast, go faster, and stop touching yourself. The instructions fade away and a sultry voice begins to speak. A hypnotic, swirling image is overlapped by a steady stream of fast moving erotic images. I begin to follow the instructions. Go slow. The voice is speaking to me and also giving me commands, but I am not conscious of what it is saying. Go fast. More images flash before me at incredible speed. Go faster. I'm stroking my meat like a revved up engine. STOP. I release my grasp. I'm breathing heavily. The voice is still guiding my subconscious. Images seem to slow down. I catch my breath and take this moment to rest. And it begins anew. Go Slow. Go fast. Go faster. STOP. Go Slow. Go fast. Go faster. STOP! This goes on until the video finally ends a full thirty minutes later. The experience was AMAZING, but I felt a little cheated as I hadn't cum. There was nothing to worry about. I was more than willing to give the video another go. I re-fluff my pillow, pound back a liter of water (that's about a quart to you Americans), and reset the video. I read the instructions, wait for the voice, and once again get sucked into this hypnotic, erotic, wormhole. Slow, Fast, Faster, Stop. Slow, Fast, Faster, Stop. Slow, Fast, Faster, Stop. Slow, Fast, Faster, Stop. I had become a puppet. Better yet, I had become a sex zombie, craving not brain but sweet sexual release. Images flashed past my eyes in a fashion that resembled the Millenium Falcon hitting warp speed. I followed the instructions automatically and without any thought. I was powerless to defy them. The voice had unknowingly taken full control. In what felt like the blink of an eye, the video ended. I was left aroused and pleasured, but I had been cheated of my release once again. Not one to give up, I synched up the video for a third time. By now you should have a clear picture of what I was experiencing. When the video ended after the third time, my dick was limp. I had passed the last thirty minutes beating off what was essentially a wet noodle. My balls were swollen and hard as ball bearings. They throbbed in pain. After an hour and a half of jerking off, I still hadn't managed to cum. I was beginning to lose hope. But I had started this journey with a goal in mind, and I was resolved to achieve success. The acid had reached full potency at this point, and in the back of my mind, I could hear the voice beckoning me. I watched that movie three more God damned times. I spent a total of three hours stroking my dick, and I had nothing to show for it but burning balls and a dick that was begging me to end its life. I had blisters on my hands. Fuck I had blisters on my dick. My balls ached for 3-4 days. How could a video that brought me so much pleasure leave me so dissatisfied and in so much agony? Well, I later found out the reason why I had tortured my poor dick for three long hours was because I had been watching an edging video. And that sexy, alluring, seductive voice that had been commanding my subconscious had been instructing me NOT TO CUM. In fact, it had been telling me that the more I jerked off the less I would want to cum. Horny and high as fuck, I had managed to cockblock and give myself what had to have been one of the world's most severe cases of blue balls.
TL;DR : Jerked off to edging video for 3 hours on acid and couldn’t figure out why I couldn’t cum.
Edit: after some considerations, I’ve decided to share 2 more stories.
The titles will be
5 hits of acid + 10g shrooms + decarboxylated weed + vaping weed = trip to hospital
Ambien + 1 beer + 10-15g shrooms = The Hangover
submitted by Intrickate to tripreports [link] [comments]


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