#un code of conduct

[the-garbanzo-annex-jr]

Source

[ethiack]

Report: UN Orchestrated Cover-Up of Francesca Albanese’s Pro-Hamas Funding

When first challenged about this violation in 2023 and 2024, Ms. Albanese, backed by the UN, vehemently denied that there was outside funding, falsely claiming that her trip was funded by the UN. This lie was perpetuated by the UN Secretary-General’s spokesperson, who denied any role in the expenditures. In fact, Albanese’s expenses related to her UN mandate are managed and overseen by the UN Human Rights Office, which is part of the UN Secretariat, and therefore answerable to Secretary-General Guterres.

This entire affair amounts to a coordinated cover-up. Ms. Albanese lied, the UN lied to protect her, and a biased internal committee served as the mechanism to bury misconduct, avoid accountability, and ensure her renewal. UN Watch’s evidence, mostly confirmed by the Committee, establishes that Ms. Albanese engaged in systemic violations of the Code of Conduct. Yet, instead of upholding its rules and enforcing accountability, the UN chose to grant Ms. Albanese impunity.

[dulcecherub]

Igual Que Un Angel

Chapter Five

Synopsis: Sofia is pregnant, and the last thing she needs is for Rafe to find out. It’s her dirty secret, it’s not like he’s barging down her door to speak to her. He looks as if he’s done with her for good. Will outside forces, force Sofia to confront the situation at hand. Or will she be able to keep this secret up? Not like, her belly isn’t growing everyday or anything.

MASTERLIST

Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

Rafe peered over at Sofia suspiciously, why was she wearing a sweater? His eyes scan her body, trying to find something different. He wasn’t sure what to make of it. Usually, the Pelican Yacht Club had strict rules for how the bartenders and waitresses should dress. A sweater was not a part of their code of conduct.

He tapped his businesscard against the counter, he was here to do business. But instead, his eyes were fixated onto Sofia. He wasn’t one to point out other people’s weight. To him, that sort of thing never really mattered. But as he stared at her, his eyes narrowing. She looked like—

“Sorry to keep you waiting so long, Mr.Cameron.” The older man, Jefferson said. He fixed the front of his blazer. Rafe straightened up.

“No worries, I wasn’t waiting long.” Rafe shook the man’s hand. As the man, nodded his head.

“Let’s get to business, shall we?”

“Talk to her!” Sarah exclaims, “Actually, not only that. Talk to Topper. I’m tired of being the middle man between my ex boyfriend and my brother.”

Rafe raises his eyes brows, “You want me to tell John B, you’ve been talking to Topper?” Sarah narrows her eyes.

“Don’t, you dare. It’s not even like that. You know that. We’re only speaking because he misses you.” Rafe rolled his eyes.

“He’s just being dramatic.” Rafe poured himself a drink, the crackling of the ice settling into the liquor glass fills the room. —Sarah picks up the drink before Rafe can.

“Hey!” He attempts to get it from her, but she pushes it further away. His eyes roll in annoyance. “I’ll tell John B you’re trying to drink!”

“Are you four?!”

A disheveled John B comes out of Rafes guest room. He pushes his hair back, his eyes adjusting. “What’s going on?”

Rafe smirks, patting John B on the shoulder. “Sarah’s been talking to Topper.”

Sarah’s eyes widen, “Woah—”

Before Rafe lets her say more, he walks away. A smirk on his face still. He knows it was messed up thing to do. But he was so tired of everyone telling him what to do. Who he should listen to. For once, he just wanted to be alone.

“Topper!” John B nearly exclaims.

“It’s not like that! Ugh! Seriously Rafe!” Rafe shook his head as a chuckle escaped his lips.

“Lupe, do I look bloated?” Sofia set up her phone on her desk table, so Lupita could see through face time. She shoves her top further up, so she can show her stomach.

“Aww, your baby bump.” Lupita says, her eyes go almost glassy and Sofia groans.

“You were supposed to say yes!” Lupita gives her a sympathetic smile.

“Sof, you’re three months pregnant. You’re going to start showing. The baby is going to grow.”

Sofia rubs her belly, she could feel the way it was firm now. Her hand grazing her belly softly. It was so strange knowing she was growing life inside of her. She never thought she would have a kid so young. This was different. Life was changing and Sofia didn’t know what to do about it.

“You’re going to be a good mother, Sofia.” Lupita voice breaks her away from her trance. She finally makes eye contact with her cousin, through the phone.

Sofia bites her lip, rubbing her neck. “No sé, Lupita.”

“Lo sé. That baby is lucky to be able to call you its mom. Or her mom. Or his mom. Their mom?” Lupita narrowed her eyes, staring into the distance of her own home.

“Lupe! Be serious!” Sofia whines, Lupita giggles. Shaking her head, Sofia knew her cousin meant well. But sometimes when she needed her to just be serious. Lupita did the exact opposite of that.

“Okay, okay. Ya. Ya. Una cosa, ¿Qué vas a hacer cuando el papa de tu bebé se entere?” (Only one thing, what are you going to do when the father of the baby finds out?)

Sofia stared down at her belly, shrugging her shoulders. “For now, it’s best he doesn’t know.”

“That’s not what I asked. Sofia, be realistic. Do your parents even know?”

Sofia darted her gaze at her mom and dad, the words dying at her throat before she can even utter the words.

“Éstas bien?”(Are you okay) Her mom asks, as she places one of the many plates of food down onto the table. “Tu ves—” (You look—)

“Si, estoy bien.” (Yes I’m okay) Sofia winces at how quickly she responded. Both Kimberly, the second eldest in the family and her brother Rubin, stare at her weirdly. Claudia, the baby of the family eats happily away, not seeming to feel the tension in the room.

“Oh si?” Sofia bite her lip, here goes nothing.

“No, Necesito decirte algo.” (No, I need to tell you something) Sofia foot tapped against the wooden floorboards, her eyes moving from her dad and her mom. He paused his eating, Kimberly rose an eyebrow. Claudia still was too deep in her own thoughts to notice anything. “Sólo necesito que no te enfades.” (I just need you to not get mad)

Her dad looks to her mom, their eyes meeting. Speaking a language the two of them only knew. One, Sofia always tried to decipher, but never could. They were a team, a united front. Sofia felt a pang in her chest, her mind briefly wandering to Rafe.

“Sofia? Que paso?” (What happened?) Her mom asks, her mom eyes seemed tired. Sofia can’t help but notice how weathered she looks. She wants to pretend she hadn’t said anything. But it’s too late, plus she knows she’s eventually going to show more.

“Estoy embarazada.” (I’m pregnant) Sofia can feel all their eyes on her, she purses her lips together. Her eyes scanning her family faces. Sofia sees the way Claudia finally pays attention, her eyes wide. Her brother Rubin looks to Kimberly. Who just stares at her frozen and in shock. Her mom continues to stand in place, not staring at Sofia. Her dad… her dad jaws set.

“Don’t tell me, it’s Rafe’s.” He says sternly, Sofia can’t hold his gaze.

“Who else would it be?” She murmurs, her dad sighs, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

The silence after makes Sofia squirm. None of her siblings resume eating. Her dad gets up from his seat, leaving to his room. Sofia tries to blink back tears but she can’t. They begin to kiss her cheeks and she wants to take back what she’d said. It’s too late.

Her mom hand hovers over hers. Before finally firmly wrapping it around Sofias. “Dale tiempo. Estamos aquí para ti. Siempre.” (Give him time, we’re here for you. Always)

Rafe doesn’t know what possesses him, but the thought begins to gnaw at him. And he can’t just let it go. He approaches her cautiously, he ignores the fact that she’s hurt him in the past. He needs to know. He has to know.

“Why are you wearing a sweater?” Rafe asks her making Sofia jump. She looks up as he towers over her. His face stoic, his hands clenched into fist. He knows even know what he’s truly asking. Why it bothers him so much. But something doesn’t feel right. It’s like she’s keeping a secret. And for whatever reason, it bothers him to know he doesn’t know.

“Is that really the first thing, you decided to say to me? And why do you even care?” She looks agitated, scoffing at him. As she continues to take her tray with her, walking around the club. Offering people drinks.

“The club doesn’t allow you to wear sweaters. It’s unprofessional.” He says flatly. It was true, so what gave her an exception to the rule.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, so why are you wearing a sweater?” He continues to press. Sofia rolls her eyes, not even glancing at him. His jaw ticks, he hates this side of her. Hates when she won’t tell him things. Maybe, because of what happened with the Groff and Hollis situation. But something keeps making him wonder. What was different about her?

“Seriously Rafe? Why does it matter to you? Phil lets me—”

“I don’t care what Phil lets you do. What are you hiding, hmm?”

Sofia eyebrows scrunches up in anger. “I’m not hiding anything, okay. It’s literally late September, you expect me to be outside in the cold.”

“It’s Kildare, it barely gets cold here.” His eyes narrow, Sofia continues to walk, still offering people drinks. Rafe follows, stomping as he does so.

“Well I’m cold.” Her eyes done meet his, he shakes his head. Tugging his bottom lip, he looks away from her. Spotting Topper and Kelce, Ruthie with them. He’s glad they’re not staring at him. He looks away.

“You don’t get cold.” He looks back at Sofia, his eyes trained on her practically.

“How do you—”

“Because I know you, Sof. Okay.” He nods his head. “I know something’s going on. I know you.”

Sofia finally stops in her tracks, pursing her lips. “Look, if you’re here to intimidate me at my work place. It’s not going to work.”

“Don’t, don’t do that. Don’t make yourself into a victim. Like you didn’t do what you did. Like you—like you didn’t hurt me.” His nostrils flare, Sofia tucks her sweater further down.

“You hurt me too.” She finally says, her voice sounds sorrowful. He could have sworn it sounded like her voice broke. But before she lets him speak any further. She places the tray with the drinks down. She rushes away, Rafe hand goes to stop her. But he grabs onto air, his mouth opens then closes. He finally puts his hand down. “Sofia!” He manages out, but it’s too late. She leaves behind one of the workers doors. Patrons aren’t even allowed back there.

He grabs one of the drinks she left on the counter. Drinking it like a shot, the burn feeling nice as he feels the liquor go down his throat. He squeezes his eyes closed, trying to prevent himself from crying. He takes one last gulp of the drink before deciding it’s best if he leaves.

[chronicallyconflicted]

"Do you want to kill me?" Avasarala asked.

Bobbie blinked, and before she could answer Avasarala lifted her hand, commanding silence

"I am one of the most powerful people in the UN, we're at war so, do you want to kill me?"

"I—I guess so?"

"You don't. You want to find out who killed your men, and you want the politicians to stop greasing the wheels with marine blood. And, holy shit, what do you know, I want that too."

"But I am active duty Martian military" Bobbie said, "if I stay working for you I'm commiting treason." The way she said it wasn't complaint or accusation.

"They haven't recalled you" Avasarala said "and they're not going to.

The wartime diplomatic code of conduct is almost exactly the same for you as it is for us, and it's ten thousand pages of nine point type. If you get orders right now I can put up enough queries and request for clarification that you'll die of old age in that chair.

If you just want to kill someone for Mars you're not going to get a better target than me. If you want to stop this idiotic fucking war and find out who's actually behind it, get back to your desk and find out who wants what wording"

Bobbie was silent for a long moment. "You mean that as a rhetorical device," she said at last, "but it would make a certain amount of sense to kill you, and I can do it."

A tiny chill hit Avasarala's spine, but she didn't let it reach her face "I'll try not the oversell the point in the future, now get back to work"

[oopsarboreal]

Taurice doesn’t know it, and you wouldn’t expect it due to his age and the fact that his designations are basically roundabout ways of giving him more work without extra trust or pay, but he has the attention of the upstairs. So to speak. They (primarily Dr. Samosin) believe him to have incredible potential to serve the Foundation due to his prime motivation having to do with the anomalies themselves rather than surrounding facts such as monetary gain or scientific progress. This was made clear by the manner in which he came into the Foundation. If manipulated correctly, he'd be a wonderful figurehead later on down the line. A man who so deeply desires to look at the unknown is less easily swayed by bribery or danger.

This also explains his ability to skirt regulations with a somewhat suspicious amount of luck. Taurice is, bluntly put, a rule-breaker. He should have met the consequences of his actions already- plenty of hotshots enter the Foundation and even climb the ranks believing themselves to be special exceptions to the rules. They come and- often fatally- go.

It is Samosin who has kept him safe from heavy inspection and/or extreme punishment. She knows that Taurice only operates well under the belief that he is in control. Such a belief is only possible in the Foundation via delusion, but it would seem that the interrogator is eased into submission to heavy, suicidal tasks if he only succeeds in dodging a rule about dress codes.

So, he's on a sort of threshold. Not yet skilled or connected enough to entrust, but still has enough potential for Samosin to secretly aid his employment. He's unaware that if he became un-useful in her eyes, he'd be in a lotta danger. From his point of view, she's just a higher-up who sometimes conducts unofficial performance reviews and happened to be the one to get him hired initially.

[reality-detective]

This 👇 you might find interesting.

Melissa Fleming, Under-Secretary-General for Global Communications, UN

Prebunking - at the Department of Global Communication this will be a key preoccupation as we adapt the UN "Verified" initiative to address climate disinformation...Particular attention should be given to ensuring that young people, adolescents and children are fully aware of their rights in online spaces. Such user empowerment will be one of the key principle of the UN Code of Conduct on information integrity on digital platforms which my team and I are working on. The Code will be presented at the Summit of the Future in September 2024 and will set a global gold standard to make the digital sphere more humane and it will call for a firm global commitment to information integrity. 🤔

[sincerelywhistler]

New month, new continuation

✨PART 4✨ of things my husband does that are so violently Asher Coded, I had to compile a written list and turn them into headcanons:

part 1 • part 2 • part 3

• his phone consistently below 20%. Babe has to plug it in every night cause he sure ain’t gonna

• saw the meme image thing on how to break your thumb ligament by flicking your wrist. Sat in quiet contemplation for a few minutes, visibly weighing the pros and cons of conducting this experiment. Moved on with his day without a word (the smart choice)

• “oh, you know you love meeeeeee” when he senses that he’s getting on my nerves, which is all the time /j of course.. mostly

• yoinks our nintendo switch to romance Sebastian in Stardew Valley every single play-through because it’s against his moral code to leave Tsundere characters un-kissed (what does this say about me)

• sends posts of two animals interacting, no matter what they’re doing, and captions it “this is literally us”

• also sends posts of the most scrungliest and disheveled creatures, captioning it “this is you”

• alternating turns of getting one another ‘just because’ flowers. I originally initiated it, so if Babe did the same, Asher would die I think

• does have a thorough skin/hair/hygiene routine, but will wash his face with Dawn dish soap if he’s tired and it’s more convenient

• conks out the second his head hits the pillow like HOW?? Babe lays there awake, wondering what sorts of dark magic he’s really capable of

• makes a questionable decision, and when anyone begins to address it 0.5 seconds after it happens, he’ll jokingly say “it’s in the past now, that was the old me”

• uses the 😳 emoji in the most confusing and unfitting places, so much so it really makes you rethink the original meaning of his texts?? “Can I take your car today? 😳” “Work let us have some of the leftover chicken for dinner😳”

• can and will turn goof mode off at the drop of a hat when needed. It’s actually kinda scary if you get the chance to experience it bc the whole atmosphere of the room changes

• received a uh *noise complaint* and proceeded to bake AND decorate a whole cake to “celebrate the achievement” (photographic evidence exists)

• but that’s not before fully removing the still beeping smoke detector from the ceiling and handing it to me in a panic, asking me to turn it off because he didn’t know how to (photographic evidence also exists)

• can’t cuddle like a normal person, he has to either suffocate you with the weight of his body or you gotta coddle him like he is oh so fragile and the most delicate of waifs— no in between. Great Dane who thinks he’s a lap dog vibes

• gives the BEST advice and pep talks to people. He‘s studying forensic psychology to be a counselor and I think Ash would make a great counselor or advisor of sorts, just in a more lighthearted environment

• knows he has the pretty privilege card, but only uses it for the most unnecessary reasons? Like of course you can have a some of my pasta you freak I literally made you your own bowl, why are you batting your eyelashes and trying to persuade me via brainwave manipulation

[quilloleander]

Strange Phenomenon #2

Translated Prompt: How about one where Sparkling Megatron becomes very attached to Shockwave and constantly wants to be with him? This causes some problems when separating Megatron from Shockwave, or Megatron becomes jealous of the others because they steal Shockwave's attention. Or he gets lost in the base, trying to find Shockwave and causing a huge scare for the others. Original Prompt: ¿Que tal uno en donde el Sparkling Megatron se encariñe mucho con shockwave y no deja de querer estar junto a él? lo que ocasiona algunos problemas al momento de separar a megatron de shockwave, o que megatron se ponga celoso de los demás, porque le roban la atención de shockwave. O que se pierda en la base, tratando de encontrar a shockwave y causando un gran susto a los demás.

This is part of the High Guard + Sparkling Megatron One-Shot Book I promised to make.

Hi!! First of all thank you to senator_shockwave for the request! I apologize if my understanding of the request is wrong cause I had to use a google translator to understand the original comment. Unfortunately, I cannot speak Spanish so hopefully I got it right. Also, I do hope that you're able to properly read this too and that there's no weird discrepancy on your end cause I wrote this entirely in English.

So, a bit of a deviation from the original prompt, this is sort of a continuation of the "Strange Phenomenon #1" one-shot except this time Shockwave is the one suffering lmao. I just thought it would be funny if he freaked out that Megatron has become clingy to him and he's just lowkey wondering what to do. So yes… apologies but this is written in first person POV again because I lied and decided to write a second part to "Strange Phenomenon #1" skskkss.

Ao3 Link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65467561/chapters/171658489

================================================

Note before Proceeding:

File contains personal observation logs made throughout the course of the previous astroweek. It contains confidential information, therefore, anyone caught accessing these files without explicit permission shall forfeit their rights to Shockwave and be considered a volunteer for his next experiment. If you wish to proceed without clearance, then you have been made aware of the consequences and any injuries or fatalities incurred during experimentation shall entirely be your fault.

This is your final warning.

FILE CONFIDENTIAL TO ALL BUT SHOCKWAVE. DO NOT OPEN.

THAT MEANS YOU, SKYWARP.

—

Strange Phenomenon #2 - Log #1

Main Overseer of Phenomenon: Shockwave

Main Observation:

Since the terrible “Seeker Incident,” I have grown wary of the possible negative side effects sparklings could impose upon vulnerable and sensitive mechs. It is unfortunate that the High Guard only has one specimen, for I would like to conduct a few tests, yet I know that Commander Starscream would not grant approval for my recent study of interest.

I am not sparkless, I simply wish to conduct a few minor experiments that would cause no harm to the small sparkling known as Megatron, yet it is to be expected that caretakers hold illogical codes of overprotectiveness.

It is rather unfortunate for it appears Megatron, hereby dubbed as “the contagion,” has set about bringing my very destruction. During the “Seeker Incident,” he had sought out Colonel Slipstream as his primary caretaker in the absence of Commander Starscream. However, it appears the contagion has mutated for now he has chosen to seek another victim despite the presence of Commander Starscream in the base.

He has chosen me as his second victim of choice.

I came to this conclusion this solar cycle.

I was in the midst of experimentation when the door to my laboratory had slid open.

I had turned off my audials, expecting Commander Starscream or, Primus forbid, General Skywarp. It was the protocol in the case that anyone enters my laboratory while I was in the middle of conducting an experiment. Unless they wish for the entire High Guard base to take damage in an explosion, they know well not to interrupt me when I was in my laboratory.

However, my assumption will be my undoing.

After approximately thirty kliks, I felt a small servo pat at my leg struts. I must admit it took me a long time to respond to the unwarranted touch.

I thought it would be another one of Commander Soundwave’s underlings, either one of them would have been preferable to the contagion that had clung to my leg struts. I had ripped my attention away from my experiment, glancing down to find the contagion smiling up at me. 

It took approximately one breem before I screamed, alerting Commander Starscream who had been in the hallway looking for the contagion. 

Yet I saw that glint in the contagion’s optics as Commander Starscream carried him out.

I must prepare for the worst case scenario.

End of Observation. To be Continued if More Data is Gathered.

—

Strange Phenomenon #2 - Log #2

Main Overseer of Phenomenon: Shockwave

Main Observation:

The contagion has chosen to strike during my most vulnerable time.

Refueling.

This is not an admission that I have difficulty refueling.

It is not a difficult action to commit to. One consumes the energon and allow the frame to process. Cybertronian biology is complicated yet even the most simple of processors can comprehend the action of refueling.

Energon enters intake. Simple.

However, it is the social aspect that renders one vulnerable. Within the base, it is only logical that there are other bots in the refueling station.

Therefore, it was not possible for me to retaliate when the contagion chose to wander over to where I had chosen to refuel. Those beady yellow optics must have noticed me enter the room immediately for he had wasted no time at all to approach me the moment I had sat down. He had quickly climbed the metal bench before climbing over to sit on my lap, his own cube of energon in his servos. Many of my colleagues will deem me paranoid, but it is an undeniable that the contagion looked downright smug when he had finally settled down.

It would have been impossible for me to remove him, unless I wanted to alert everyone with the assumption that I hate sparklings for I knew the little contagion would begin his loud wailing if I were to attempt it.

Which I do not.

I am simply concerned about their possibility of carrying viruses the likes of which no Cybertronian can ever recover from lest the inevitable stage of growing up begins, and even then…

Therefore, it was necessary that I hold onto the sparkling until he finished refueling.

End of Observation. To be Continued if More Data is Gathered.

—

Strange Phenomenon #2 - Log #3

Main Overseer of Phenomenon: Shockwave

Main Observation:

It appears the contagion has chosen it was not enough to invade my time during refuel, for he has decided to infect the rest of my laboratory with his little presence. 

I am not one to criticize the work of others. However, I find Commander Starscream’s continued allowance of this behavior to be concerning. Still, it is to be expected, for the Commander is heavily infected by the contagion and therefore cannot help but follow his whims.

That is to say, I cannot bar Megatron from my laboratory.

An unfortunate order as Megatron has chosen to remain in the laboratory at the times where I am there. Due to the unpredictability of a sparkling, I have had to focus on much tamer experiments as I do not wish for the sparkling to witness the ones that Skywarp deems “nightmare-inducing.” As such, I have had to return to my base roots of chemistry, yet even that is difficult for I cannot create any pathogens that could potentially release toxins in the air. I may survive for I have no need to cycle air anymore, yet the sparkling may not.

It was necessary to find a perfect balance, yet I found myself unable to indulge in any of my experiments as the contagion is extremely needy. If I take my optic away from him for approximately ten kliks, he becomes agitated and starts to climb my frame. If I do not pay any attention, he then proceeds to bite me which is an effective strategy that perhaps the High Guard should implement in their fighting style. I will recommend this to Commander Starscream.

Therefore, for a few solar cycles, I was in my laboratory holding the contagion in my arms.

My berth in the laboratory was a mere medical slab, for I do not require much recharge nor do I wish to waste a single joor on such unnecessary activities. Which was unfortunate as Megatron would stay in my arms until he fell into a small nap, continuing to cuddle into me and I was not sparkless to place a sparkling on a cold piece of metal. Yet I knew if I attempted to return him to his habsuite, he would throw a fit and cause further problems for me.

Therefore, I made him a smaller berth in my laboratory.

It was the only logical action to be taken. 

Megatron could have his naps, and I can return to my experiments in peace.

However, it cannot be helped that there are moments that I need to stand guard by the berth since I need to observe that Megatron is perfectly in recharge and getting the sufficient energy he needs. At times, I may even carry him back in my arms if he looks restless.

This is merely part of my scientific observation.

Nothing more should be interpreted from this.

End of Observation. To be Continued if More Data is Gathered.

—

Strange Phenomenon #2 - Log #4

Main Overseer of Phenomenon: Shockwave

Main Observation:

I fear I have been thoroughly infected and though I have attempted to find a cure for the seekers, I was unable to do so. Now my incompetence has ruined me for I too have become an unwilling victim of the contagion. 

In the past solar cycles that I have been forced to care for the contagion known as Megatron, I have found it difficult to part with him now that he has seemingly moved onto his primary target, Commander Starscream.

I find that I miss his presence.

Megatron has no longer needed to come to me to refuel, though he has never needed assistance in such a simple matter. However, I write with absolutely no illogical envy or jealousy that he has chosen other High Guard members to sit next to while he is in the refueling station. 

I much prefer it if he refueled in my company so I can deduce and assess if he is receiving the proper amount of energon needed for a sparkling his size. It only assures me that he mostly does sit next to Commander Soundwave during these moments.

He has at least retained his need to be carried. However, I have come to the conclusion that it does not matter who it is that holds him, he simply enjoys the process of being held. I find it within my duties as the former Science Commander and overseer of this phenomenon to be in a position in which he demands to be carried by me. It is the only way I can assure the limitation of the spread of the contagion to other High Guard members.

Additionally, there is one last observation that I find to be entirely illogical…

Aside from the beeping of machinery within the laboratory, it has become silent in a way that I have never noticed before. It is illogical for I know that this was the previous state of the laboratory before the contagion infected me, yet I find the silence to be unnerving. No longer is my concentration broken by a shrill beep or little servos hitting at my leg struts to garner my attention.

It has become almost too difficult to stay in the laboratory these days under such conditions.

Yet I persist… for science.

End of Observation.

I am perfectly stable.

—

Strange Phenomenon #2 - Conclusion

I see no reason for why I need to remove the small berth in my laboratory. The contagion is known to recharge in “interesting” locations around the High Guard base. It would only be logical that the berth remains within my laboratory in the case that Megatron chooses to stay there in the foreseeable future. 

I shall also implement a new part into my daily schedule and that is to gather more observation on the contagion known as Megatron.

This is not to be interpreted as a desperate attempt to spend more time with the sparkling.

[dapper-lil-arts]

One g1 villain that I think could have worked really well as like the big bad of an arc if he was translated to g4 is Wizard Wantall , basically he was an insanely powerful magic user who was obsessed with collected everything even people (in fact he was so powerful in g1 that queen majesty was un able to go up against him like at all)

I see, it was like Marvel comics's collector, a guy that basically wants one or two of everything, not even in a noah's arc thing, but like, an universal level kleptomaniac, I think its a pretty ballin' idea! He doesn't even have to be evil. He just yoinks. I do like villains that arent like "Mwahaha I'm evil" but rather just have an infallible code of conduct that they adhere to that is easily seen as evil by the protags. Like how Kraven the hunter just wants to hunt incredibly strong beings, which leads him to butt heads with villains and heroes, and spiderman, being a guy that preserves life, will naturally oppose. Banging

[beardedmrbean]

The Taliban morality police in Afghanistan have detained men and their barbers over hairstyles and others for missing prayers at mosques during the holy month of Ramadan, a U.N. report said Thursday, six months after laws regulating people’s conduct came into effect.

The Vice and Virtue Ministry published laws last August covering many aspects everyday life in Afghanistan, including public transport, music, shaving and celebrations. Most notably, the ministry issued a ban on women’s voices and bare faces in public.

That same month, a top U.N. official warned the laws provided a “distressing vision” for the country’s future by adding to existing employment, education, and dress code restrictions on women and girls. Taliban officials have rejected U.N. concerns about the morality laws.

Thursday’s report, from the U.N. mission in Afghanistan, said in the first 6 months of the laws’ implementation, over half of detentions made under it concerned “either men not having the compliant beard length or hairstyle, or barbers providing non-compliant beard trimming or haircuts.”

The report said that the morality police regularly detained people arbitrarily "without due process and legal protections.”

During the holy fasting month of Ramadan, men’s attendance at mandated congregational prayers was closely monitored, leading at times to arbitrary detention of those who didn't show up, the report added.

The U.N. mission said that both sexes were negatively affected, particularly people with small businesses such as private education centers, barbers and hairdressers, tailors, wedding caterers and restaurants, leading to a reduction or total loss of income and employment opportunities.

The direct and indirect socio-economic effects of the laws’ implementation were likely to compound Afghanistan’s dire economic situation, it said. A World Bank study has assessed that authorities’ ban on women from education and work could cost the country over $1.4 billion per year.

But the Taliban leader, Hibatullah Akhundzada, has emphasized the primacy of Islamic law and the role of the Ministry of Vice and Virtue in reforming Afghan society and its people.

In a message issued ahead of the religious Eid Al-Fitr festival that marks the end of Ramadan, Akhundzada said it was necessary “to establish a society free from corruption and trials, and to prevent future generations from becoming victims of misguided beliefs, harmful practices and bad morals.”

More than 3,300 mostly male inspectors are tasked with informing people about the law and enforcing it, according to the report.

The ministry has resolved thousands of people's complaints and defended the rights of Afghan women, according to its spokesman Saif ur Rahman Khyber.

This was in addition to “implementing divine decrees in the fields of promoting virtue, preventing vice, establishing affirmations, preventing bad deeds, and eliminating bad customs.”

The ministry was committed to all Islamic and human rights and had proven this in practice, he said Thursday, rejecting attempts to “sabotage or spread rumors” about its activities.

[saltnsugarbear]

THE ANON CODE OF CONDUCT

since some of y'all want to act a fool, here's how you behave under anon! or even when you're not under anon.

im gonna get mean, I dont give a fuck. I'm tired of y'all thinking you can run my friends with your shit.

all fuckin right

this? un-fucking-called for. it takes you less time to scroll by a post then to complain in someone's inbox. it's not that fucking deep. tagging is not that deep. exposure is the point.

again, it takes less time to scroll away than to complain.

this in response to Maggie changing her theme? go fuck yourself.

this is in repsonse to the no anon and how maggie told them to fuck off. doesn't matter if it's harsh. first anon started it with being a dick

putting these two together. it takes to seconds to read over someone's intro post. where you can see right there what they're up to currently. it also takes the same amount of time to look at someone's masterlists instead of asking if they plan on writing more. go explore their other works first.

this is fine. maggie answered it perfectly.

however, understand this

we might not be inspired by something, we might have a bigger plan, or youve made us uncomfortable and we've deleted it without making a scene.

NOW THAT THE EXAMPLES ARE DONE HERES HOW Y'ALL ARE GONNA ACT

dont go around getting pressed when someone expresses their opinions. they're allowed to. it's tumblr, fuck off.

don't pick fights. you're fucking exhausting. get a job.

in the grand scheme, none of this shit is that deep. let people have fun. don't be a dick, we won't have a problem.

you're gonna treat these writers with respect because they're all doing this for free. we don't have to contribute and we can stop just as fast as we start. youre the fucker's who run people off platforms cause you're exhausting.

I see any shit I'm fucking coming for you cause I'm sick of y'all disrespecting my friends. get your act together and be fucking normal.

[mariacallous]

As G7 leaders attended a summit in Canada on Monday, Russia unleashed one of the largest bombardments of the Ukrainian capital since the start of Moscow’s invasion more than three years ago. The overnight Russian attack on Kyiv involved hundreds of drones and missiles targeting residential districts across the city. At least fifteen Ukrainian civilians were killed with many more injured.

While this latest Kyiv blitz was by no means unprecedented in a war that has been marked by frequent Russian attacks on Ukraine’s civilian population, the timing is unlikely to have been coincidental. Like a mafia boss ordering elaborate killings to send coded messages, Putin has repeatedly scheduled major bombardments of Ukraine to coincide with international summits and gatherings of Western leaders. For example, Russia bombed Kyiv, Odesa, and other Ukrainian cities on the eve of NATO’s 2023 summit, and conducted a targeted missile strike on Ukraine’s biggest children’s hospital as NATO leaders prepared to meet in Washington DC last summer.

Bombing raids have also taken place during high-profile visits of international dignitaries. In spring 2022, Russia launched an airstrike on Kyiv while UN Secretary General António Guterres was in the Ukrainian capital. At the time, Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy said the attack was a deliberate attempt by the Kremlin to “humiliate” the United Nations. Two years later, Russia subjected Ukrainian Black Sea port Odesa to intense bombardment as Greek PM Kyriakos Mitsotakis visited the city.

The massive bombardment of Kyiv and other Ukrainian cities during this week’s G7 summit is the latest example of Putin’s penchant for sending messages with missiles. On this occasion his message could hardly have been clearer: Russia does not want peace. On the contrary, Moscow feels increasingly emboldened by growing signs of Western weakness and is more confident than ever of securing victory in Ukraine.

[meret118]

This week, we spoke with four federal-government IT professionals—all experienced contractors and civil servants who have built, modified, or maintained the kind of technological infrastructure that Musk’s inexperienced employees at his newly created Department of Government Efficiency are attempting to access. In our conversations, each expert was unequivocal: They are terrified and struggling to articulate the scale of the crisis.

. . .

“This is the largest data breach and the largest IT security breach in our country’s history—at least that’s publicly known,” one contractor who has worked on classified information-security systems at numerous government agencies told us this week. “You can’t un-ring this bell. Once these DOGE guys have access to these data systems, they can ostensibly do with it what they want.”

. . .

Given the scope of what these systems do, key government services might stop working properly, citizens could be harmed, and the damage might be difficult or impossible to undo. As one administrator for a federal agency with deep knowledge about the government’s IT operations told us, “I don’t think the public quite understands the level of danger.”

. . .

These systems are immense, they are complex, and they are critical. A single program run by the FAA to help air-traffic controllers, En Route Automation Modernization, contains nearly 2 million lines of code; an average iPhone app, for comparison, has about 50,000. The Treasury Department disburses trillions of dollars in payments per year.

Many systems and databases in a given agency feed into others, but access to them is restricted. Employees, contractors, civil-service government workers, and political appointees have strict controls on what they can access and limited visibility into the system as a whole. This is by design, as even the most mundane government databases can contain highly sensitive personal information. A security-clearance database such as those used by the Department of Justice or the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives, one contractor told us, could include information about a person’s mental-health or sexual history, as well as disclosures about any information that a foreign government could use to blackmail them.

Even if DOGE has not tapped into these particular databases, TheWashington Post reported on Wednesday that the group has accessed sensitive personnel data at OPM. Mother Jones also reported on Wednesday that an effort may be under way to effectively give Musk control over IT for the entire federal government, broadening his access to these agencies.

. . .

With relatively basic “read only” access, Musk’s people could easily find individuals in databases or clone entire servers and transfer that secure information somewhere else. Even if Musk eventually loses access to these systems—owing to a temporary court order such as the one approved yesterday, say—whatever data he siphons now could be his forever.

With a higher level of access—“write access”—a motivated person may be able to put their own code into the system, potentially without any oversight. The possibilities here are staggering. One could alter the data these systems process, or they could change the way the software operates—without any of the testing that would normally accompany changes to a critical system. Still another level of access, administrator privileges, could grant the broad ability to control a system, including hiding evidence of other alterations. “They could change or manipulate treasury data directly in the database with no way for people to audit or capture it,” one contractor told us. “We’d have very little way to know it even happened.”

. . .

Musk’s efforts represent a dramatic shift in the way the government’s business has traditionally been conducted. Previously, security protocols were so strict that a contractor plugging a non-government-issued computer into an ethernet port in a government agency office was considered a major security violation. Contrast that with DOGE’s incursion. CNN reported yesterday that a 23-year-old former SpaceX intern without a background check was given a basic, low tier of access to Department of Energy IT systems, despite objections from department lawyers and information experts. “That these guys, who may not even have clearances, are just pulling up and plugging in their own servers is madness,” one source told us, referring to an allegation that DOGE had connected its own server at OPM. “It’s really hard to find good analogies for how big of a deal this is.” The simple fact that Musk loyalists are in the building with their own computers is the heart of the problem—and helps explain why activities ostensibly authorized by the president are widely viewed as a catastrophic data breach.

-----

“‘Upgrading’ a system of which you know nothing about is a good way to break it, and breaking air travel is a worst-case scenario with consequences that will ripple out into all aspects of civilian life. It could easily get to a place where you can’t guarantee the safety of flights taking off and landing.” Nevertheless, on Wednesday Musk posted that “the DOGE team will aim to make rapid safety upgrades to the air traffic control system.”

Even if DOGE members are looking to modernize these systems, they may find themselves flummoxed. The government is big and old and complicated. One former official with experience in government IT systems, including at the Treasury, told us that old could mean that the systems were installed in 1962, 1992, or 2012. They might use a combination of software written in different programming languages: a little COBOL in the 1970s, a bit of Java in the 1990s. Knowledge about one system doesn’t give anyone—including Musk’s DOGE workers, some of whom were not even alive for Y2K—the ability to make intricate changes to another.

. . .

Like the FAA employee, the payment-systems expert also fears that the most likely result of DOGE activity on federal systems will be breaking them, especially because of incompetence and lack of proper care. DOGE, he observed, may be prepared to view or hoover up data, but. . . it doesn’t appear to be prepared to carry out savvy and effective alterations to how the system operates.

. . .

But DOGE workers could try anyway. Mainframe computers have a keyboard and display, unlike the cloud-computing servers in data centers. According to the former Treasury IT expert, someone who could get into the room and had credentials for the system could access it and, via the same machine or a networked one, probably also deploy software changes to it. It’s far more likely that they would break, rather than improve, a Treasury disbursement system in so doing, one source told us. “The volume of information they deal with [at the Treasury] is absolutely enormous, well beyond what anyone would deal with at SpaceX,” the source said. Even a small alteration to a part of the system that has to do with the distribution of funds could wreak havoc, preventing those funds from being distributed or distributing them wrongly, for example. “It’s like walking into a nuclear reactor and deciding to handle some plutonium.”

. . .

DOGE is many things—a dismantling of the federal government, a political project to flex power and punish perceived enemies—but it is also the logical end point of a strain of thought that’s become popular in Silicon Valley during the boom times of Big Tech and easy money: that building software and writing code aren’t just dominant skills for the 21st century, but proof of competence in any realm. In a post on X this week, John Shedletsky, a developer and an early employee at the popular gaming platform Roblox, summed up the philosophy nicely: “Silicon Valley built the modern world. Why shouldn’t we run it?”

More at the link.

The coup has already happened, and we lost.

[workersolidarity]

[ 📹 Civilians flee for their lives as the Israeli occupation forces open fire on civilians near a school in the Hamdan area of the Jabalia Camp, in the northern Gaza Strip, coinciding with occupation artillery shelling near the displaced Palestinians looking for shelter. 📸 Photos of the Jabalia Camp's massive destruction following the withdrawal of occupation forces from some areas of the camp. ]

🇮🇱⚔️🇵🇸 🚀🏘️💥🚑 🚨

DAY 237: ISRAELI OCCUPATION FORCES WITHDRAW FROM PARTS OF JABALIA, AID TO GAZA DECREASES BY 67%, ISRAELI KNESSET TO DECLARE UNRWA A "TERRORIST ORGANIZATION", UN SECURITY COUNCIL TO VOTE ON DRAFT RESOLUTION TO END OPS IN RAFAH, OCCUPATION BOMBINGS CONTINUE

On 237th day of the Israeli occupation's ongoing special genocide operation in the Gaza Strip, the Israeli occupation forces (IOF) committed a total of 5 new massacres of Palestinian families, resulting in the deaths of no less than 53 Palestinian civilians, mostly women and children, while another 357 others were wounded over the previous 24-hours.

It should be noted that as a result of the constant Israeli bombardment of Gaza's healthcare system, infrastructure, residential and commercial buildings, local paramedic and civil defense crews are unable to recover countless hundreds, even thousands, of victims who remain trapped under the rubble, or who's bodies remain strewn across the streets of Gaza.

This leaves the official death toll vastly undercounted, as Gaza's healthcare officials are unable to accurately tally those killed and maimed in this genocide, which must be kept in mind when considering the scale of the mass murder.

The United Nations Security Council (UNSC) will vote today on a draft resolution to stop the ongoing Israeli aggression in Rafah.

The draft resolution, proposed by member-state Algeria, calls for Security Council to "decide that Israel, the occupying power, must immediately cease its military attack and any other action in Rafah."

The draft resolution would also demand an "immediate ceasefire respected by all parties," also demanding the "immediate and unconditional release of all hostages," and further, calls on all parties to "comply with their obligations under International law with respect to all persons they detain."

The draft resolution is the first of its kind since the Israeli attack over the weekend on a UNRWA displacement camp for Palestinian refugees that killed 46 and wounded 249 others, while Algeria is also expected to follow up the resolution with other steps at the level of the Security Council.

Previously, the International Court of Justice (ICJ) at The Hague called on the Israeli occupation to "immediately halt its military offensive, and any other action in the Rafah Governate" which could inflict on Palestinians "conditions of life that could bring about its physical destruction in whole or in part," and to comply with any and all UN or independent international investigations.

At the same time, the Israeli Knesset approved today a draft law which would declare the United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestine (UNRWA) a "terrorist organization".

The draft law was submitted to the Israeli Knesset at the request of member Yulia Milinovsky from the Yisrael Beiteina Party, and was supported by 42 members, with six opposing.

The draft law would apply the "Anti-terrorism Law" to the UNRWA, declaring that "all communications between Israel and its citizens and UNRWA shall be halted, and the agency's offices in Israel shall be closed," and would apply the applicable provisions of the penal code to that refer to "terrorist organizations".

Previously, an investigation conducted by the Independent Review Group on the UNRWA, led by former French Minister Catherine Colonna, along with the participation of three research institutes, found no evidence for the agency's lack of impartiality, nor the participation of its staff in the events of October 7th, 2023, and found that the organization had established a large number of mechanisms and procedures to ensure its commitment to humanitarian principles, with a focus on neutrality.

In other news, the United Nations has announced that humanitarian aid entering the Gaza Strip has been reduced by 67% since the Israeli occupation army took over and closed the Rafah border crossing on May 7th.

The announcement came as part of a press conference held by United Nations spokesperson, Stephanie Dujarric, on Wednesday and based the claim on information the spokesperson received from colleagues in the field.

Dujarric declared that the entry of humanitarian aid into the Gaza Strip had decreased by 67% since May 7th, telling reporters that the main reason behind the sharp reduction of aid was a result of the closure of the Rafah border crossing.

Dujarric went on to emphasize that health agencies, hospitals and other healthcare services are being closed one after another, and that the displacement of civilians due to Israeli attacks further reduces its ability to distribute resources in Gaza.

The UN spokesperson also pointed out that only one hospital in Rafah remains functional at this time, and that the United Nations and its partners are doing their best, despite the extreme conditions faced in the Strip.

Yesterday, it was announced by Gaza's Ministry of Health that all hospitals except for a single Maternity ward had been closed as a result of the Israeli occupation's ongoing assault on the Rafah Governate.

Meanwhile, the Israeli occupation continues its attacks on Rafah, as well as various other axis in the Gaza Strip, bombing and shelling all sectors of the enclave.

At the same time, Israeli occupation forces (IOF) withdrew from some areas of the Jabalia Refugee Camp, in the northern Gaza Strip, leaving behind an unearthly landscape of extreme destruction, with entire neighborhoods destroyed by occupation bombing, shelling and the purposeful detonations of buildings and residential squares.

The occupation army refocused its assaults back on the Rafah Governate, as well as some neighborhoods of Gaza City, along with other sectors, with fierce battles ongoing with local Resistance forces.

In the south of Gaza, the occupation army continued advancing in the city of Rafah, coinciding with the violent bombardment of the city, with at least 21 civilians killed over the last 24-hours, while at least 12 have been killed in the Rafah area just since dawn this morning.

The Palestinian Red Crescent Society (PRCS) announced the deaths of two paramedics after the Israeli occupation army bombed a PRCS ambulance recovering wounded civilians from the area of the Abu Al-Saeed roundabout, in the Tal al-Sultan neighborhood, west of Rafah, in the southern Gaza Strip.

The two paramedics killed in the criminal attack were Haitham Tabasi and Suhail Rasras.

In another atrocity, occupation fighter jets bombed a house belonging to the Al-Muhtaseb family, in the Tal al-Sultan neighborhood, killing three Palestinians and injuring several others.

Zionist warplanes also bombed a civilian vehicle near the Al-Alam roundabout, west of Rafah, while another bombing killed a child belonging to the Al-Shaer family.

Israeli bombing and artillery shelling also hammered neighborhoods east of Rafah, while at the European Gaza Hospital, southeast of Khan Yunis, the bodies of 13 Palestinians arrived due to bombings in southern Gaza, including 6 from the Rafah area, while 4 were killed in a bombing south of Khan Yunis, and three more were killed when occupation forces targeted a police officer in a bombing.

Zionist aircraft also targeted a residential home belonging to the Zaqout family, on block C of the Nuseirat Camp, in the central Gaza Strip, resulting in the tragic deaths of four civilians and wounding at least 15 others, while a number of others remain missing under the rubble.

IOF warplanes also bombarded three residential homes in central Gaza, leading to the deaths of two Palestinians and wounding many others, while another occupation raid west of Deir al-Balah killed a civilian.

Zionist artillery detatchments also shelled a UNRWA clinic in the Al-Maghazi Camp, in the central Gaza Strip.

In Gaza's north, IOF fighter jets bombed a residential house belonging to the Al-Hato family, in the vicinity of the Al-Zahraa School in the Al-Daraj neighborhood, east of Gaza City, resulting in the martyrdom of 5 civilians and wounding several others.

Additionally, Zionist sniper fire resulted in several casualties on Street 8 near the University College, south of Gaza City, while the occupation army bombed a house for the Al-Zaanoun family, southwest of Gaza City, also leading to a number of casualties.

Another civilian was killed, and 6 others wounded, after occupation forces bombed a residential house in the Al-Shati Refugee Camp, west of Gaza City, while in the Beit Lahiya Project, several civilians were wounded as a result of an occupation airstrike on a residential apartment.

In the meantime, occupation Merkava tanks continued its control over several blocks of the Jabalia Camp, including blocks 1-8, coinciding with the detonation of civilian homes.

An Israeli quadcopter drone also killed several people in the Sultan's area of Beit Lahiya, in the northern Gaza Strip, while two others were killed in a bombing on the town of Jabalia al-Balad.

As a result of the Israeli occupation's ongoing special genocide operation in the Gaza Strip, the death toll among the local population has risen to exceed 36'224 Palestinians killed, including over 15'000 children and 10'000 women, while another 81'777 others have been wounded since the start of the current round of Zionist aggression, beginning with the events of October 7th, 2023.

May 30th, 2024.

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#photosource

#videosource

@WorkerSolidarityNews

[slamminslamminmcgill]

Perrito Chapter 2: Protection - Lalo Salamanca/FTM Reader (NSFW!)

prequel to the events of chapter 1. you and lalo meet in the prison showers and strike a deal. rather than face the mercy of the other inmates, you agree to surrender yourself completely to him. tags/warnings: public humiliation/degradation, homophobic/transphobic slurs, shower sex, public sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, pet play, rimming, oral sex, face-slapping, face-spitting, squirting, spanking, hair-pulling, implied/referenced rape (nothing actually happens), BDSM, possessive behavior anatomical terms: cunt/pussy/hole/g-spot, (t-)dick words: 6,693 ao3 link author's notes: i am so unfathomably normal about lalo salamanca /lie como siempre no soy un hablante nativo pero estoy aprendiendo. entonces por favor corríjame si se encuentra algo de errores :3

Whoever said space was the final frontier must have never had to shower in prison.

As if being locked up with hundreds of dangerous, violent men nearly double your size wasn’t bad enough, you were now expected to get naked in front of witnesses. Your size, age, body type, and criminal charges were already working against you. They painted a picture of a weak young man, a little boy, really, who’s no stranger to whoring himself out. Your fellow inmates seemed to heckle you wherever you went, eager to stake their claim in you. It hadn’t even been a day, and yet you were already one of the hottest commodities in here. That alone was scary, but coupled with the fact that you were trans, it was downright horrifying. You thought you’d be lucky to last 4 seconds naked in the shower before someone grabbed you. If people knew you had a pussy, everyone around you would be clamoring to tear it up.

You’d almost resigned yourself to it. It was going to happen. You were going to walk into the shower dirty, and somehow leave even dirtier, if you left at all, that is. You figured if you wanted a slim chance of maintaining your dignity, you should go when the least amount of people were there. Hopefully, less people in the room meant less eyes on you. 

Carrying a plastic bag filled with prison-issue shower necessities, you managed to sneak away from the cafeteria at lunch time and head for the showers. Before you went inside, you decided to peek in and check for other inmates. You couldn’t see anyone, but you heard one lone shower running. That’s it. No voices, no footsteps, nothing but that one lone stream. You sighed, partly in relief, partly in disappointment. One other person was probably the most privacy you were going to get. You prayed that they wouldn’t pay attention to you. You took a deep breath, scrounged up all the strength and confidence you could find, and barged in. 

Men’s bathroom etiquette was something you’d picked up after transition. Obviously, you had no experience with prison bathrooms, but you assumed the code of conduct was the same. Look down at the floor or straight ahead. Do not speak. Do not make eye contact. Do your business quickly and then leave. Lingering for longer than necessary would signal that you were open for business, which you most certainly were not. You stood up straight with your brow furrowed, probably looking more like a disgruntled bunny rabbit than a prisoner not to be fucked with, and speedwalked to an available shower. There were partitions dividing them, but no door or curtain for privacy. Honestly, that was still better than you were expecting; you only had one vulnerable side instead of three. You picked a stall and tossed your bag in without carefully checking your surroundings, which ended up being the wrong move. 

A voice that was entirely too close to you called out, “Well, hey there, little guy! What’s your name?”

You nearly jumped out of your skin. You’d been hoping to get through your shower in relative solitude, but you didn’t even have to strip to be harassed by someone. Still, it was the first time anyone here spoke to you like a person rather than a set of at least two holes on legs. You cautiously turned over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of your neighbor. 

He didn’t look like whatever menacing figure you had in mind. He was bigger and buffer than you, sure, but he seemed like a nice guy. Well, nice by prison standards. Actually, he was kinda hot, and he had a friendly smile on his face as he washed his salt-and-pepper hair. “Yeah, you, kid! What’s your name?”

You told him that and not much else.

He kept talking to fill in the silence. “Hm. Cute! It suits you. My name is Eduardo. Eduardo Salamanca, but you can call me Lalo. How’d a pretty little thing like you end up in here? What’d you do?”

Oh boy, here we go. You thought. You’d heard not to lie about your charges; it made you seem untrustworthy. Though with your circumstances, it might have just been easier to tape a giant “FUCK ME” sign to your back. Nevertheless, you confessed. “Drug possession and… prostitution.” You mumbled the last word, hoping he’d mishear it for ‘arson’ or something less conspicuous.

But he didn’t. “Really? Wow…” You could tell he was eyefucking you a little bit, but thankfully you still had your clothes on. Almost everything was left to his imagination. “Jeez, you poor kid. I bet you were busy on the streets. Well, at least you can get a little break from that. How long you in for?”

“6 months.” You answered. Of course, that was the best case scenario. If you left any earlier, it would probably be in a body bag.

Apparently, Lalo could read your mind. “6 months? Gonna be honest here. A little guy like you would be lucky to last 6 weeks.”

You don’t know the half of it, buddy, your inner monologue replied. What you said to him was something different, though. “Yeah, uh… I kinda got that vibe already. Honestly, you’re the first person to like… actually talk to me. I’ve been getting catcalled everywhere I go.” Catcalled being the nice way to put it. Threatened was probably more accurate.

Lalo sighed. “Yeah, unfortunately that’s par for the course for small guys here. Unless they get protection.”

“Protection?” You asked, probably already knowing the answer. “What do you mean?”

“Hm… Let me think of a nice way to say this…” Lalo pondered, and came up with, “I guess I don’t have to tell you that guys like you get passed around, right?”

“No, you do not.” You replied with a sarcastic smile. Laughing about your misfortune made it feel like it was survivable. If you didn’t take it seriously and decided to ‘yes and’ your inevitable trauma, you could move past it. The show must go on, even if the show is an improv night in Hell. 

Lalo snickered. “Right, yeah. So, it’s not exactly protection, more like a protector. Basically, you get someone to claim you as theirs. That way, you’re private property instead of public property. You get me?”

That was about what you expected. “Ah, yeah. That makes sense.” It wasn’t an ideal situation by any means, but better one than everyone. “How, uh… How would I go about finding someone for that?” 

“Well, for starters, you should get in the shower. No one’s gonna want you if you’re stinky.” Lalo pointed to your shower faucet, and tilted his head back to rinse the shampoo out of his hair.

You glanced up at the shower head. The way it hung from the ceiling so ominously, waiting to be the executor of your fate, it might as well have been a noose. Was this what it was like to die? Taking your last bow in front of the audience as you kicked over the chair? “Right…” You cleared your throat and turned fully around, making sure your back was to Lalo. Maybe if you kept your back to him, he wouldn’t notice. Hell, maybe he wasn’t even looking. Just don’t turn around. Don’t face forward. You took a deep breath and pulled your orange shirt off over your head, though you couldn’t figure out where to put it.

Evidently, Lalo saw your confusion. “You can put your clothes in your bag. Tie it up, though, otherwise they’ll get wet.”

Your heart sank. He was watching you. Intently. You dared not turn around to verify. “Thanks…” You mumbled as you stuffed your shirt in the bag. Figuring it wasn’t going to get any easier the longer you waited, you pulled your pants and underwear down and put them away as well. Naked but for the prophylactic flip-flops required in any public shower, you grabbed the bar of soap and bottle of shampoo from the bag, tied it up, and dropped it on the floor, all without turning around. 

Okay. You can do this. The hard part’s over. Just don’t turn around. Don’t face forward. Don’t turn around. Don’t face forward, you thought. It turned out that wasn’t the hard part, though, because whoever designed the shower controls must have been a goddamn NASA engineer. You couldn’t figure it out for the life of you.

Again, Lalo saw you struggling. “Yeah, it’s pretty tricky to get the hang of. Want some help?”

“N-No, thanks. I think I got it...” You lied. But how hard could it be? Just turn this dial here, right? No, wait. Maybe it’s this one? There we go! You were christened in your success with a stream of cold water.

Freezing cold water.

You cringed the second it hit your skin. “Shit!” You shouted and instinctively backed against the corner, narrowly escaping Snow Miser’s rain of terror. Shivering and dripping wet, you tried to reach for the controls, only to realize how badly you just fucked up.

You had turned around.

And you were facing forward.

Not only that, but you were facing Lalo.

And Lalo was looking exactly where you hoped he wouldn’t be. 

His mouth agape, he squinted to get a better look at your peculiar body. “No mames… (No fucking way…)” He muttered. 

You didn’t know what that meant, but it didn’t sound good. You quickly turned back around, pressing your face into the corner. It was pointless. He already saw everything, but maybe you just did that to hide the tears that were sure to come. You wrapped your arms over your chest and hugged yourself for the tiniest bit of comfort and warmth. Your voice cracked as you said to him, “Please… Please don’t…”, not entirely sure what you were asking him not to do.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, little man. I’m not gonna hurt you.” Lalo assured you, cooing to you like you were a cat stuck in a tree. You half-expected him to start going pspspspsps to get you out of the corner. The distinctive sound of flip-flops on wet tile told you that he was walking over to you. You were left petrified and shivering as the cold water dripped down your exposed body. Eventually, the flip-flops stopped flopping. You heard a splash of water, the metal squeaking of the shower controls, and another splash. “Ah, mucho mejor… (Ah, much better…)” Lalo patted you on the shoulder, sharing some of his body heat to melt your cold demeanor. “See? I warmed it up for you, mijo. Now, can you turn around for me?”

You shimmied your stiff body around to face Lalo, who wasted no time eyeing you up and down. You could actually see his eyes flicker back and forth between your face, chest, and crotch in a perfect rhythm. One two three, four five six. Face chest crotch, crotch chest face.

“Wow…” Lalo sighed and rested both his hands on your shoulders as he continued to scan your body. He was trying to photograph every curve, every inch of you, as if he was afraid he’d never see you again.  “You… My god, you’re gorgeous… You probably made bank on the streets, huh? Body like that, I’d sell it too. Maybe even buy myself a nice place in Cancún with all the money I get for it.” 

You snorted with laughter. His sickly-sweet talk had you forgetting all about the sheer terror you were feeling just moments ago. He was an expert at talking you down, and you tried to find the best words to give him in return. “I… I wish man! You make it sound nice!”

“Well, a pretty boy like you deserves nice things. You deserve to be treated nice.” Lalo chuckled as he dragged his hands down, across the scars on your chest and over the curves of your hips. He bit his lip and looked back up at your face, “If you were mine? Psh, I’d treat you so nice. I’d give you everything you’ve ever wanted, querido, I promise. Would you like that?”

Hell, you’d like anything if it came out of that voice, a rich baritone with a sultry accent, warming you up like a crackling fireplace on a winter’s night. “Y-Yeah…” you hummed, hoping that your legs wouldn’t liquify in front of him. “So, uh… when you say, like… being yours, uh… does that mean you’ll-?”

Lalo answered your question before you finished asking it, “I’ll protect you, sweetheart. You won’t have to worry about anyone else.” He pulled you in for a hug and under the shower stream, which was now as warm and comforting as he was. He smooched your forehead before patting your shoulders and locking eyes with you. “So? You in?”

You were in. In over your head, but in nonetheless. “Yeah… Yeah, I’m in.”

“Good! I’m glad to have you.” Lalo kissed your forehead again. “But, I don’t just protect anyone, y’know. You gotta earn your keep, understand? You gotta prove to me that you’re worth protecting.”

At this point, you were used to bartering with your body. You’d spent plenty an evening face down, ass up, in some cheap motel room, scrolling through Twitter and fake moaning while you waited for whichever loser was behind you to cum inside the condom he’d bitched about wearing. But this, but Lalo, Lalo was more than just a client. He felt like much more. 

And when you looked down, you noticed that he was packing much more than your usual clientele. 

Like he had done to you, your gaze flickered back and forth from his crotch to his face. One, two, one, two. Face, cock, face, cooock. You couldn’t help yourself. Even at half-mast, you could tell he was big. Thick, uncut, trimmed hair, fat juicy balls, and fresh from the shower. It was gorgeous, and you had quite the portfolio for comparison. You’d said the same lies to every client that whipped it out: “Oh, wooow, it’s so biiiiig. I don’t know if I can take it all.” Lies, acting, stage presence, whatever you want to call it, but with Lalo, it was the truth. You unconsciously licked your lips.

Lalo was amused, but growing impatient. “You gonna do something or just stare at it all day?”

You snapped out of your cock-blinded haze and scoffed. “In a second, man! I’m just…” You dropped to your knees, gliding your hands down his back until they rested on his ass. “Just admiring what I have to work with.” You closed your eyes and maneuvered your mouth onto his beautiful cock, slurping and sucking to get it fully erect, which you did in record time.  

Lalo exhaled and ran his fingers through your wet hair, scratching your scalp as you worked. “Oh, there we go. That’s a good boy… You got good technique, huh? Get a lot of practice?”

“Mhm…” You answered with a mouthful of dick, lips buzzing around his head. For some reason, the way he said good boy went straight to your head (and your junk). You weren’t sure why, but you felt an overwhelming, soul-crushing desire to please him. Protecting yourself was definitely part of it, but self-preservation alone wouldn’t have you so enthusiastic. You’d give him whatever he wanted, anything he could ever ask for, just to hear him praise you again. You relaxed your throat as best you could, and pushed his butt towards you to get his cock all the way down. 

“Ooh, you naughty little thing, you like that?” Lalo growled, tightening his grip on your hair and jerking his hips into your face. “You like getting your throat fucked?” 

He kept you down for longer than you would have done yourself. Your throat convulsed and you spat up, coating him in drool. He yanked you off and let you gasp for air. You took a couple quick breaths, not wanting to be away from that cock for too long, and latched your spit-covered lips onto his balls. You licked, slurped, sucked, and slobbered on them while you stroked his shaft. 

Lalo threw his head back and moaned. “Oh, fuck, yeah, that’s it. Just like that. Good boy.”

There it was again, your call to action, your sleeper agent trigger phrase. You ripped your lips off his balls and took him back into your mouth, jacking him off with your throat. You got him all the way in again, your nose nuzzling into his pubic hair while your tongue lapped at his balls. You struggled to breathe through your nose, but you didn’t care. Cock was more important than oxygen. 

Lalo laughed over your choking, not maliciously, but in pure glee at the sight before him. “Oh my god, look at you! You’re adorable!” He pulled you off before you could asphyxiate yourself, and crouched down to cup your face in his hands. He kissed your forehead and ruffled your hair, shaking some water out of it. “Heh, I’m real lucky, aren’t I? I got the best little cocksucker in this damn place, all to myself. Such a good boy.”

There it was again. He had to know what he was doing. Like Pavlov and his dog, he was conditioning you, training you to be his dog, and it was working. You were on your knees, panting with your tongue hanging out, covered in drool, being rewarded with headpats and kisses from your master. You were so happy, so proud to be doing a good job. You let your eyes close and your head lull, giggling and basking in his affection. 

Lalo took note of the effect he had on you. “You really like it when I call you that, yeah? And when I pet you? Dios mío, you're like a little puppy. So cute, so happy, so obedient… I bet if I told you to bark, you’d actually do it, wouldn’t you?”

You froze, taking a moment to assess your situation and how far you’d sunk. You weren’t actually considering this, were you? Then again, Lalo was the only one standing between you and every other violent criminal in here. His wish would have to be your command. But then again, would that be so bad? You liked what he had for you so far. “Do… Do you want me to?”

Lalo blinked a few times, like he wasn’t expecting you to be up for it. “Y’know what?” He stood up and stretched his arms over his head, letting the water cascade down his body and sighing as he let his tension go. “Yeah, I do. I do want you to bark for me.” He grabbed your hair and tilted your head back so you could look him in the eye. “Go on. Bark for me, boy.”

Before you bit the bullet, you thanked your lucky stars that no one else had walked into the showers to hear you debase yourself like this. “Woof! Woof!”

Lalo cackled, letting go of your hair to steady himself on the wall as he doubled over from laughter. When he was able to breathe, he answered you mockingly, clearly enjoying the role he’d put you in. “Woof, woof!” He took a moment to collect himself and wipe some tears from his eyes before he spoke to you again. “Oh, you’re precious, you know that?” His fingers raked through your hair, smoothing it out under the shower stream and scratching behind your ears as he purred to you in his native tongue. “Oh, mi chico bueno… Tan lindo… Tan lindo y solo mío… (Oh, my good boy… So cute… So cute and all mine…)” 

You weren’t listening intently, instead mainly just enjoying how sexy his voice sounded in Spanish. Though when you did hear English again, it was a question that, along with another sharp pull on your hair, shocked you out of your stupor. 

“Hey, you ever eat ass before?”

You stared up at him and shook your head. No client had ever asked, thank god, and none of your previous partners had either. You’d been on the receiving end a few times, and you’d liked it well enough. The thought of being the giver had never crossed your mind, until now. 

“Well, you’re about to. Don’t worry, it’s fun! Shower’s the best place to try it. You’ll like it, I’m sure.” He held onto your hair like a briefcase and spun his body around, letting go of you when his voluptuous ass was in your face. “Whenever you’re ready, mijo.”

You brought your hands up to his big butt and gave it a squeeze, like you were pinching it to see if it was real. Having confirmed its existence in this physical realm, you spread his cheeks apart with your thumbs. You took a deep breath to settle your nerves, and then dove in. You lapped at his hole, slicking it up with a little bit of spit. Not nearly enough, though, so you pulled back and spat directly on it for good measure. That allowed you to slide your tongue right in. 

“Ooh, yeah, that’s it…” Lalo groaned, “Knew you’d be good at this. You’re a natural!” He reached behind you to push your face in deeper. 

You got the hint and started to tonguefuck his asshole, thrusting in and out as deep as you could go. Surprisingly, you found yourself really enjoying it. Your shameless moans reverberated between his cheeks and vibrated his sensitive rim. You braced your hands on his hips and flicked your tongue up and down, side to side, in and out, anywhere you could get it. Lalo was right, you were a natural. 

But he still felt like you needed some assistance. Lalo grabbed one of your wrists and brought your hand up front, your fingertips blindly grazing his length. “Hey. Stroke my dick while you do that. C’mon.” He demanded, and you obliged, pumping his cock as you dug your tongue deep into his ass. You knew you had it right when he said, “Oh, there you go! Can’t forget that, right?”

You definitely could not. You were drunk off his cock and addicted to his ass. Everything about him was intoxicating. You stuck your tongue out and swiped it down over his rim and to his balls, sucking on one, then the other. When you got your fill of that, you spat on his hole again and went back to tonguefucking him. 

You must have been doing a good job, because Lalo couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “Ay, te chico sucio, lámelo. Lame me pinche culo, puto. Usa ese pinche boca sucia. ¿Te gusta, verdad? ¿Te gusta lamiendo mi ano? Claro que te gusta, maricón. (Ay, you dirty boy, lick it. Lick my fucking ass, whore. Use that dirty fucking mouth. You like that, right? You like licking my asshole? Of course you like it, faggot.)” He hissed in pleasure and kept talking, “Carajo, te sientes tan bueno. (Fuck, you feel so good.)”  

You couldn’t tell exactly what he was saying, but he said it with a lot of conviction and passion. Your tongue must have grazed his prostate, because when it did, he cried out salaciously and leaked precum all over your fingers. “¡Ay, Dios mío! (Ah, oh my God!)” 

You were ready to hit that spot over and over, but Lalo was quicker than you were, and pulled your face out by your hair. “Alright! That’s enough of that!” He laughed as he turned to you and petted your hair again. “A few seconds longer and I would’ve been done for! Told you you’d be good at it! Good boy! Such a good boy!”

You whined like the pathetic little dog you were, and took his praise to heart. “Thank you, Lalo…”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. Now, come here.” He crouched down to pick you up off the floor and stand you upright. Once he had you on your own two feet, he backed you up against the wall. Lalo’s lips interlocked with yours faster than you could process it. His hand moved with the same urgency, rushing to slip between your legs. Predictably, your dick was rock hard and your cunt was soaking wet. Lalo chuckled as he rocked his fingers against you. “Awww, look who’s excited! You want me that bad?”

You started to grind your hips into his hand while he sucked and bit your neck. “Yeah… Yeah, fuck… Y-Yeah…”

Lalo ripped his lips off you with enough intensity that was sure to bruise. “Tell me what you want.”

Because it could never be that easy, right? You’d always have to put yourself down before getting what you want. Though this time, you were feeling playful. You stuttered out a snarky response. “Isn’t- ah… Isn’t it kinda obvious?”

Lalo seemed to like your snark, supplementing it with some of his own. “Oh, it’s very obvious.” He grabbed you by your hips and lifted you off the floor, lining your hole up with his cock. You squirmed, trying to fineagle it in yourself, but he kept you still. “But I want to hear you say it first. Tell me, what do you want me to do with you?”

You didn’t miss a beat. “F-Fuck me… Fuck me right now, please… Please…”

Rather than quench your thirst, Lalo fanned the flames. “Right now? You want it right here? Anyone could walk in and see us, y’know.”

That was true, though his tone implied that it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Quite honestly, he made it sound kind of alluring. You pushed it out of your mind, consenting to anything that’d get his cock inside you faster. 

You shook your head. “That’s… gah, that’s fine, I don’t care… I don’t care, please, just… Just fuck me, already…”

Lalo laughed, “Alright, alright, I will! So needy!” and brushed some wet hair out of your face. “Such a needy little puppy...”

Before you could even think of reacting, he slammed your hips down and filled you to the brim. The stretch was intense, enough for you to let out an involuntary cry of, “Oh, fuck!”

…

Having realized how great the acoustics were in the prison showers, you slapped your hand over your mouth and shut your eyes, not wanting to test your vocal performance capabilities any longer. 

Lalo took your wrists one at a time and put your hands on his shoulders, “No, no. Look at me. Don’t be shy…” He took hold of your hips again and squeezed hard enough for you to pop your eyelids open. After making sure you two were eye to eye, he thrust himself up into you. You moaned reflexively, like he’d just hit the squeaker on a chew toy. A dog’s chew toy. “Let them hear you, doggy.”

That was easy enough, because Lalo had you practically howling as he fucked you up against the shower wall. Within a matter of seconds, other prisoners came in to investigate, and you had amassed an audience.

“Yooo, check out what Salamanca’s got.”

“Holy shit!”

You yelped and snapped your neck to the side, where you saw two of your fellow inmates, two burly dudes fully clothed in prison orange, ogling your naked body. You repeatedly tapped Lalo’s chest to get him to stop. 

But he didn’t. He couldn’t give less of a fuck that they were there, let alone that they were talking about you. They were beneath him. Literally. Little did you know, you’d gotten lucky. The one guy you stumbled upon in the shower, the sweet, sexy, salt-and-pepper Lalo Salamanca, who had promised to keep you safe, just so happened to be top dog among everyone locked up in MDC Albuquerque. Hell, even the guards kissed his ass everywhere he went, though with not as much tongue as you did. He barked an order at you, like you were but one of the many people who did what he said. “Don’t look at them, look at me.”

You pouted and whined as Lalo fucked you into submission, rolling your head back to face him at his command. Still, even though you were a whiny, weak, submissive, slutty little bitch, you had the nerve to question him. “Nghhhh, but they’re staring at me…”

“So?” Lalo’s tone let you know how stupid that was, “I’m not gonna stop,” but he was quick to sweet talk you into it. That sneaky, sexy, Salamanca. “Everyone’s gotta find out you’re owned, somehow. Might as well have a little fun with it, yeah? And besides,” He gave you an especially hard thrust. “I think you like getting watched.”

You did. You really, truly did. As more and more prisoners packed into the tight corridor of the shower, you heard more and more voices join the ensemble. At one point, Lalo had pulled you in for a kiss, and when it was over, you were stuck staring at the spectators. You weren’t sure exactly how many of your peers were out there, definitely more than you could count on your hands, but they were all talking about you. 

“Look at that!”

“Who’s this little faggot?”

“Dunno. Never seen him before.”

“I hear he’s a whore. Just arrived today. Got half a year for prostitution.”

“No way! You think Salamanca was the one pimping him out?”

“Probably was. He’s lettin’ the kid have it.”

“You like what they’re saying about you? That you’re my whore? Heh. You wish you were good enough to be my whore. You’re barely good enough to be my dog. You wanna show them how much of a dog you really are?”. Lalo slapped you across the face like the bitch you were. “Bark for them, doggy. C’mon. Be a good boy and let everyone hear you bark.”

You had no thought in your head, no possible reason to do otherwise, because you couldn’t reason. Animals aren’t capable of reason. As the two of you fucked like rabbits, you clung to him like a koala, and barked like a dog. “R-Ruff, ruff! Ruff!”

The concert hall of the showers echoed with a standing ovation. The onlookers hurled cheers at Lalo, and cheers, leers, and jeers at you. 

“Hahaha! He’s fuckin’ pathetic!”

“Oh my god, he actually did it!”

“Dude, he has to. Salamanca tells you to bark, you fuckin’ bark. I don’t wanna be the guy to tell him no.”

“Yeahhh, get it!”

“¡Tómalo, puto! (Take it, bitch!)”

“Bark some more for us, doggy!”

“He’s a dog, alright. He’s a bitch in heat.”

“Yeah, yeah, YEAH! Take it! You take it, bitch! That’s how we fucking DO! You tell my cousin ‘thank you’, BITCH!”

“¿Qué? ¿Tuco?” Now Lalo was the one checking out the crowd. You guessed from context clues that ‘Tuco’ was his cousin that just told you to say thank you, and Lalo must have been looking for him. He scanned the mosh pit of inmates watching the show, and upon realizing that it’d take too long to find ‘Tuco’ in the sea of semi-clothed, muscular men, gave up. “Ah, no importa. (Ah, doesn’t matter.)” He shrugged and turned his attention back to you. “He’s right, though.” He slapped your other cheek, grabbed you by the jaw, and spat in your face. “Say thank you.”

On top of the other animals he’d reduced you to, you could now add parrot to the list. “Ah, thank you! Thank you, La-lo! Fuck! Thank you!”

“Aw, you’re welcome, nene.” Lalo said as he brushed his spit off your face, the evidence of your degradation disappearing down the drain. He planted a tender kiss on your O-shaped lips. “Now, I want you to stroke your dick for me. You’re gonna make yourself cum in front of all these nice men, and you’re gonna keep telling me thank you like the good boy you are. Can you do that for me, puppy?”

Of course you could. You brought one of your hands off his shoulders and pinched your t-dick. You frantically jerked it, not even caring about anyone seeing your body anymore. Thankfully, they all saw you from the side. No one had caught on yet. Over your desperate cries of “Thank you! Thank you, Lalo! Thank you!” you could just barely hear the encouragement and epithets from the audience.

“Yeah, cum for us, queer!”

“We wanna see you cum!”

“Heh. Little faggot’s dick is so tiny, his whole hand covers it.”

“Look at his face. He’s even panting like a dog. I give him 30 seconds, tops.”

30 seconds was, of course, a gross overestimation. It was probably closer to 3 before you cried out “Tha-ank! You! La-lo! F-Fuck! Fuck!!!” and came, spurts of fluid gushing out with his every thrust. Everyone had screamed for you when your orgasm started, but by the time it faded away, they’d been reduced to quiet, confused murmuring. They were perplexed by the excess liquid now dripping onto the floor underneath you. You couldn’t hear a single word clearly. Your heart stopped. The shadow of dread loomed over your head once more. 

But where you saw danger, Lalo saw opportunity. Keeping you impaled on his cock, he kissed and caressed your cheek, speaking with his gentle, generous tone. “Shh, it’s okay. Look at me.” Calloused fingertips poked your jaw in his direction. When you saw his face, he gave you a great big smile, and kissed your nose. “I’m gonna show them, okay?”

Again, his ability to talk you down was uncanny. Or, maybe you were just a dumb, silly little puppy that’d go along with whatever its master said. You giggled, still riding the high from your orgasm, and nodded. 

Lalo kissed your neck, whispered to you, “Good boy. You feel so good,” and set you down on the floor. He clapped his hands on your shoulders, and engaged the crowd. “You guys wanna see the best thing about him?” 

And before a single cheer, clap, or whistle could be sounded, Lalo spun you around, and bared your front to the audience. 

If you thought the prisoners had gone crazy before, they would’ve needed lobotomies after seeing you in full. The collective screeching in the room sounded unhuman. Some couldn’t believe their very eyes, and were left questioning reality. 

“Oh my god!”

“Ayo, what the FUCK?!”

“No shot, dude! There’s no way!”

“That’s not real! You’re fucking with me! That can’t be real!”

“Lucky bastard!”

“Is that a pussy?! Fuuuck, it’s been so long…”

Some knew that what they were seeing was real, but struggled to make sense of it. 

“Wait, wait, wait, so then did he just fucking squirt?!”

“Is that a chick? How she get in the men’s block?”

“That don’t look like a chick, though, man. How’d this dude get a pussy?”

“Shi-i-it, can I get one too?”

“Yeah. I’ll carve you one.”

“I think he’s a tranny, right? Or is that just when chicks have dicks? Didn’t know they could go the other way.”

“Is that why he just got here today? Salamanca wanted some pussy, so he just had one of his whores get caught and sent to him?”

“Wouldn’t surprise me. He could do it.”

“Yeah, he’s a gorgeous little puppy, isn’t he?” Lalo laughed and shook you gently, as if to emphasize your already eye-catching presence. He snaked one of his hands down to your crotch and spread your pussy lips open, showing off your cute little dick and your drenched hole. You squealed with embarrassment and closed your eyes, not wanting to see the hundreds of prisoners salivating over you. “Think he tastes as good as he looks?” 

Wait, what?

Whatever he just said, it drove the peanut gallery wild. Your ears started to ring from all the shouting.

“Well, let’s find out!” Lalo took his hand off your front and slapped you on the behind. “Put your hands on the wall and bend over.”

“Ah! Okay! Ok-kay…” You shuffled back over to the side, faced the wall, and braced yourself with palms splayed on wet tile. Then, you bent over, sticking your ass out with your legs far apart. “Like… Like this?”

“Perfect!” Lalo spanked you again. “Stay just like that.” He groped your ass and knelt down behind you. Having been in his position not too long ago, you could guess what was coming, though you still groaned when he dragged his tongue up your slit. 

“Ohhh, f-fuck, thank you, Lalooo~…”

Lalo said “you’re welcome” by slurping up as much of your essence as he could. He swallowed a mouthful and then winked at the crowd. “Tastes pretty damn good.” He pursed his lips around your dick and sucked, making your knees buckle and your hands slide down the wall.

A few seconds of that had you begging for mercy. You knew if he kept it up, you’d inevitably collapse onto the grimy shower floor. “F-Fuck! Fuck, Lalo! Lalo! Oh, god, I can’t take it! P-Please!"

Lalo popped your dick out of his mouth, and spat your words back at you. “You can’t take it?” He got up off his knees and forced two of his fingers into your sopping wet hole. Then, he rammed them into your g-spot over and over, as fast as he possibly could. When you started wailing, he grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked your head back so he could growl in your ear. “Well, you’re gonna take it. You’re gonna take what I fucking give you, whore. You’re my bitch. And I get to do whatever I want with you. Do you understand that?”

“Y-Yes! Yes, yes, ah, fuck, yes! Yes, Lalo!”

“Say thank you.”

“Nghhh, thank you, Lalooo…”

“Aww, good boy! You’re such a good boy! Who’s my stupid little slut? You are! Yes you are! You’re my stupid little slut! And you’re not gonna cum until I say you can, right?”

You balled your hands into fists and dug them into the wall, sobbing from the intense pressure building inside you. You knew you were going to break, but you agreed to his terms nonetheless. “Mhm! Ah! Uh huh! I… w-won’t… c-cum… I wo-oh fu-u-uck, I can’t! H-Hold it! Please!”

Lalo sighed, and decided to take the slightest bit of pity on you. “Oh, alright. But you gotta bark first. C’mon, doggy. Bark if you wanna cum.”

You took no time to process the depravity of his request. You just followed the command instinctively, like the well-trained puppy you were. “R-Ruff! Ruff, ruff! Woof! Woof!”

Lalo chuckled, satisfied with what he’d made of you. “Good boy. Now, you can cum.”

And with his permission, you squirted all over his fingers as he jackhammered them into you. Your throat was sore from moaning so much, and you imagined the audience must have felt the same from cheering. It was understandable, though; it’d probably been years since any of them had seen a pussy in person, let alone one that belonged to a cute boy and could gush like a firehose. 

Lalo slid his fingers out of your hole, sucked them clean, and quickly replaced them with his cock. You let out a garbled moan as he bottomed out again, yet he spoke to the inmates with perfect poise and posture.

“So!” He pulled you up by your hair and turned your face to the masses. “This kid here? ¿Este chico? He’s mine, got that? Mío. You fuck with him, you fuck with me, and you fuck with my entire family. Si se chingue con él, se chingue conmigo, y se chingue con todo el cartel. ¿Comprende?”

Astonishingly, hundreds of prisoners from all walks of life, all types of crimes, many of which were truly horrendous and unspeakable, answered to Lalo Salamanca. Thanks to him, you had gone from one of the most vulnerable people here, to one of the safest. You were untouchable.  His peers in name alone, his subjects in practice, all chanted in unison. “Yes, sir!” 

“Good! Now, all of you get out of here so I can finish up with him.”

[lizclipse]

my work's code-of-conduct is very comprehensive. it mentions things like UN conventions, modern slavery, and waste management (all in the context of "dont do bad shit")