#60-feet wide road

[vivmaek]

POETRY FOR YOUR MOON SIGN

✰ my masterlist poems written by someone who has the same moon sign as you <3

☾PISCES☽

Edgar Allen Poe, A Dream Within a Dream

“Take this kiss upon the brow! / And, in parting from you now, / Thus much let me avow – / You are not wrong, who deem / That my days have been a dream; / Yet if hope has flown away / In a night, or in a day, / In a vision, or in none, / Is it therefore the less gone? / All that we see or seem / Is but a dream within a dream.”

June Jordan, You Came with Shells

“You came with shells. And left them: / shells. / They lay beautiful on the table. / Now they lie on my desk / peculiar / extraordinary under 60 watts.”

Toni Morrison, It Comes Unadorned

“it comes / Unadorned / Like a phrase / Strong enough to cast a spell; / It comes / Unbidden, / Like the turn of sun through hills / Or stars in wheels of song. / The jeweled feet of women dance the earth. / Arousing it to spring. / Shoulders broad as a road bend to share the weight of years. / Profiles breach the distance and lean / Toward an ordinary kiss. / Bliss. / it comes naked into the world like a charm.”

☾AQUARIUS☽

W.B Yeats, A Coat

“I made my song a coat / Covered with embroideries / Out of old mythologies / From heel to throat; / But the fools caught it, / Wore it in the world’s eyes / As though they’d wrought it. / Song, let them take it / For there’s more enterprise / In walking naked.”

W.B Yeats, The Lover Tells of the Roses in His Heart

“All things uncomely and broken, all things worn out and old, / The cry of a child by the roadway, the creak of a lumbering cart, / The heavy steps of the ploughman, splashing the wintry mould, / Are wronging your image that blossoms a rose in the deeps of my heart. / The wrong of unshapely things is a wrong too great to be told; I hunger to build them anew and sit on a green knoll apart, / With the earth and the sky and the water, re-made, like a casket of gold / For my dreams of your image that blossoms a rose in the deeps of my heart.”

Louisa May Alcott, The Lay of a Golden Goose

“Oh! Be not rash,” her father said, / A mild Socratic bird; / Her mother begged her not to stray / With many a warning word. / But little goosey was perverse / And eagerly did cry, / “I’ve got a lovely pair of wings, / Of course I Ought to fly.”

☾CAPRICORN☽

John Milton, Sonnet 19

“When I consider how my light is spent, / Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide, / And that one talent which is death to hide / Lodged with me useless, through my soul more bent / To serve therewith my Maker,”

Jala al-Din Rumi, The Guest House

“This being human is a guest house. / Every morning a new arrival. / A joy, a depression, a meanness, / some momentary awareness comes / As an unexpected visitor. / Welcome and entertain them all! / Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows, / who violently sweep your house / empty of its furniture, / still treat each guest honorably. / He may be clearing you out / for some new delight. / The dark thought, the shame, the malice, / meet them at the door laughing, / and invite them in. / Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent / as a guide from beyond.”

Gwendolyn Brooks, a song in the front yard

“I’ve stayed in the front yard all my life. / I want a peek at the back / Where it’s rough and untended and hungry weed / grows. / A girl gets sick of a rose.”

☾SAGITTARIUS☽

Lewis Carroll, A Boat Beneath a Sunny Sky

“In a Wonderland they lie, / Dreaming as the days go by, / Dreaming as the summers die: / Ever drifting down the stream – / Lingering in the golden gleam – / Life, what it is but a dream?”

Dante Alighieri, From “Inferno”

“It’s the pain / of the people down there that empties my / face. / It’s pity / that you’ve mistaken for fear. / And it’s the long way / that pushes us now. / Let’s go.”

Victor Hugo, Tomorrow, At Dawn

“Tomorrow, at dawn, at the hour when the countryside whitens, / I will set out. You see, I know that you wait for me. / I will go by the forest, I will go by the mountain. / I can no longer remain far from you. / I will walk with my eyes fixed on my thoughts, / Seeing nothing of outdoors, hearing no noise / Alone, unknown, my back curved, my hands crossed, / Sorrowed, and the day for me will be as night.”

☾SCORPIO☽

Sarojini Naid, Autumn Song

“Like a joy on the heart of a sorrow, / The sunset hangs on a cloud; / A golden storm of glittering sheaves, / Of fair and frail and fluttering leaves, / The wild wind blows in a cloud. / Hark to a voice that is calling / To my heart in the voice of the wind: / My heart is weary and sad and alone, / For its dreams like the fluttering leaves have gone, / And why should I stay behind?”

Shel Silverstein, Dreadful

“Someone ate the baby. / It’s absolutely clear / Someone ate the baby / ‘Cause the baby isn’t here. / We’ll give away her toys and clothes. / We’ll never have to wipe her nose. / Dad says, “That’s the way it goes.” / Someone ate the baby.”

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Aftermath

“When the summer fields are mown, / When the birds are fledged and flown, / And the dry leaves strew the path; / With the falling of the snow, / With the cawing of the crow, / Once again the fields we mow / And gather in the aftermath.”

☾LIBRA☽

Maya Angelou, Caged Bird

“A free bird leaps / on the back of the wind / and floats downstream / till the current ends / and dips his wing / in the orange sun rays / and dares to claim the sky.”

Emily Dickinson, Good Morning – Midnight

“Good Morning – Midnight – / I’m coming Home – / Day – got tired of Me – / How could I – of Him? / Sunshine was a sweet place – / I liked to stay – / But Morn – didn’t want me – now – / So – Goodnight – Day!”

Elizabeth Barrett Browning, My Heart and I

“You see we’re tired, my heart and I. / We dealt with books, we trusted men, / And in our own blood drenched the pen, / As is such colours could not fly. / We walked too straight for fortune’s end, / We loved too true to keep a friend ; / At last we’re tired, my heart and I.”

☾VIRGO☽

Robert Hayden, Those Winter Sundays

“Sundays too my father got up early / and put his clothes on in the blueback cold, / then with cracked hands that ached / from labor in the weekday weather made / banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him. / I’d wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking / When the rooms were warm, he’d call, / and slowly I would rise and dress, / fearing the chronic angers of that house, / Speaking indifferently to him , / who had driven out the cold / and polished my good shoes well. / What did I know, what did I know / of love's austere and lonely offices?”

Jack Kerouac, How to Meditate

“Thinking’s just like not thinking- / So I don't have to think / any / more”

William Faulkner, Study

“Muted dreams for them / for me / Bitter science. Exams are near / And my thoughts uncontrollably / Wander, and I cannot hear / The voice telling me that work I must, / For everything will be the same when I’m dead / A thousand years. I wish I were a bust / All head.”

☾LEO☽

Walt Whitman, I sing the Body Electric

“I sing the body electric, / The armies of those I love engirth me and I engirth them,”

Oscar Wilde, The Ballad of Reading Gaol

“Yet each man kills the thing he loves, / By each let this be heard, / Some do it with a bitter look, / Some with a flattering word, / The coward does it with a kiss, / The brave men with a sword!”

Ralph Waldo Emerson, Friendship

“A ruddy drop of manly blood / The surging sea outweighs, / The world uncertain comes and goes; / The lover rooted stays. / I fancied he was fled, – / And, after many a year, / Glowed unexhausted kindliness, / Like daily sunrise there. / My careful heart was free again, / O friend, my bosom said, / Through thee alone the sky is arched, / Through thee the rose is red; / All things through thee take nobler form, / And look beyond the earth, / The mill-round of our fate appears / A sun-path in thy worth. / Me too thy nobleness had taught / To master my despair; / The fountains of my hidden life / Are through thy friendship fair.”

☾CANCER☽

Shakespear, Sonnet 147

“My love is as a fever, longing still / For that which longer nurseth the disease, / Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,”

Robert Frost, Acquainted with the Night

“I have been one acquainted with the night. / I have walked out in rain – and back in rain. / I have outwalked the furthest city light. / I have looked down the saddest city lane. / I have passed by the watchman on his beat / And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain. / I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet / When far away an interrupted cry / Came over houses from another street, / But not to call me back or say good-bye; / And further still at an unearthly height, / One luminary clock against the sky / Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right. / I have been one acquainted with the night.”

William Blake, Auguries of innocence

“To see a World in a Grain of Sand / And a Heaven in a wild flower / Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand / And eternity in an hour”

☾GEMINI☽

Rudyard Kipling, Blue Roses

“Half the world I wandered through, / Seeking where such flowers grew. / Half the world unto my quest / Answered me with laugh and jest. / Home I came at wintertide, / But my silly love had died / Seeking with her latest breath / Roses from the arms of Death.”

John Keats, To Sleep

“Save me from curious Conscience, that still lords / Its strength for darkness, burrowing like a mole; / Turn the key deftly into the oiled wards, / And seal the hushed Casket of my soul.”

Lord Tennyson, The Eagle

“He clasps the crag with crooked hands; Close to the sun in lonely lands, / Ring’d with the azure world, he stands. / The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls; / He watches from his mountain walls, / And like thunderbolt he falls.”

☾TAURUS☽

John Donne, Air and Angels

“Twice or thrice had I lov’d thee, / Before I knew thy face or name; / So in a voice, so in a shapeless flame / Angels affects us oft, and worshipp’d be;”

Audre Lorde, Recreation

“my body / writes into your flesh / the poem / you make of me. / Touching you I catch midnight / as moon fires set in my throat / I love you flesh into blossom / I made you / and take you made / into me.”

Margaret Walker, Lineage

“My grandmothers were strong. / They followed plows and bent to toil. / They moved through fields sowing seed. / They touched earth and grain grew. / They were full of sturdiness and singing. / My grandmothers were strong. / My grandmothers are full of memories / Smelling of soap and onions and wet clay / With veins rolling roughly over quick hands / They have many clean words to say. / My grandmothers were strong. / Why am I not as they?”

☾ARIES☽

E.E Cummings, Love is more thicker than forget

“love is more thicker than forget / more thinner than recall / more seldom than a wave is wet / more frequent than to fail”

Mark Twain, Genius

“But above all things, / to deftly throw the incoherent ravings of insanity into verse / and then rush off and get booming drunk, / is the surest of all the different signs / of genius.”

Paul Laurence Dunbar, Ships that Pass in the Night

“Out in the sky the great dark clouds are massing; / I look far out into the pregnant night, / Where I can hear a solemn booming gun / And I catch the gleaming of a random light, / That tells me that the ship I seek is passing, passing.”

[97-liners]

characters: mingyu, a gender neutral y/n

tags: zombie apocalypse, horror

warnings: major character death, gore, gun violence (and other violence, idk this is a zombie apocalypse setting), resource scarcity (see setting), mentions of a global pandemic (see setting)

60-minute free writing exercise

words: 2.3k

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Mingyu was silent when he died.

Your hand on the trigger, his knees at your feet, you looked down the barrel to see him crying. In a moment of clarity, he had stopped fighting, and he was Mingyu again. Your Mingyu. And you knew that it was your Mingyu, that he still loved you, because he let his hands still at his sides and sat back on his heels, eyes glassy and wide and terrified, afraid to die, but afraid of what would happen if he didn’t. And because you knew he loved you, and because you loved him, loved him so much it was like a vice grip on your chest and on your finger-- because you loved him, you didn’t let his last little gift go to waste. Before the moment of clarity could pass, you pulled the trigger.

That was a week ago.

Now, you’re in your car-- his car, Mingyu’s old Toyota that he bought when he graduated college and got his first real engineering job. The days are long, and the nights are dark, but you have a destination in mind. The two of you were going to go to California together, where there’s a large settlement on the coast. In the last days before the cell towers went down, Mingyu had been on the phone with one of his old childhood friends, talking about it. “Let’s go,” his hand on yours, chest full of that stupid optimism that got him through junior year and the first six months of his shitty job in Jersey City and the time the two of you were stuck waiting for the MTA for 45 minutes, “Minghao says there's space for two.”

You’re alone now, driving through Nebraska on the I-80. There’s gas stockpiled in the trunk, and there’s still about a hundred miles until you get to Cheyenne, where you’ll get out and look for a gas station with still-functional pumps. The shotgun is on the passenger seat, accompanying you like a friend— like a lover. (There’s still blood and brains in the crevices of the gun. You spent hours with a rag next to a muddy puddle of water by the side of the road, wiping down every square inch you could see. Fresh water is hard to come by, however, and it’s not smart to stay in one place for too long. Hell, you haven’t even been able to shower in weeks. Your skin still bears the chemical burns from when you had wiped yourself down in bleach. It hurt, but you couldn’t risk the virus getting into your bloodstream, even accidentally.)

It’s sunny today. Nearly painfully bright. It feels like it shouldn’t be this sunny, not after everything that’s happened. But the sun is distant and uncaring and beats relentlessly down on the rolling plains around you.

And then, from miles away, you see it— a rest stop. The light-up sign has long since blinked out, but the shape is unmistakeable in the sea of blond grass rippling in the wind. A box-shaped building, next to it the hollowed-out remains of a Wendy’s. And a gas station. The huge kind, with two rows of pumps and a parking lot. Your breath hitches as you get closer and closer and the details materialize into view. There’s even gas prices still posted on the sign — under five bucks a gallon. That must have been put up before people started panicking in earnest and entrepreneurial gas station owners cranked up the prices to fifteen, twenty dollars a gallon, until the power lines went down and cell service went out and paying with a credit card didn’t really matter anymore. This far out into the country, when it’s been hours since you last saw anything but miles of prairie in every direction and the empty cassette ribbon of the I-80 cutting through the land, there’s a real possibility that the gas station and the accompanying convenience store might still be intact.

You pull into the parking lot. The windows are unbroken and the door is still chained shut — a good sign. You reach behind to grab the crowbar from the back seat, and when you twist back forward, you’re almost certain you catch a glimpse of Mingyu in the passenger seat. A flash of golden tan skin, of scruffy black hair, and you swear you could almost see his face, but when you turn around fully, the passenger seat is empty, save for the shotgun. And in an instant, you make the stupid decision to leave the car without bringing the gun. It’s quiet, you rationalize. There’s nobody out here. Nothing out here.

(In the days since he died, you think you’ve been hallucinating. You see the fuzzy figure of Mingyu in reflections, in shadows, in the staticky darkness when you close your eyes. Maybe it’s normal. After all, the two of you were always together, even before the pandemic. Since the first time he told you he loved you, this has been the longest time the two of you have been apart. Will be apart. Forever, you brain supplies unhelpfully.)

The door is easy to pry off its hinges, and the glass breaks but it doesn’t shatter. The inside of the convenience store is everything you had hoped for— dark, cobwebbed, but stocked full of mass-produced junk food filled with preservatives. They’re calories, artificially fortified with nutrients and chemical flavoring, meant to last for years on a shelf. Immediately, you head to where the granola bars are and begin to empty the shelves, filling your backpack in the process. Your mind is thinking ahead — this is more than enough food to last you the entire trip. This is enough to feed a couple of people for a few weeks. Is there food in Minghao’s settlement in California? How much should you take? Can all of this fit in your car? How many trips back and forth should you make?

Your stomach grumbles and you’re reminded that you’re hungry— it’s been a few days— so you take a Clif bar off the shelf and tear open the wrapper. You eat ravenously.

(Mingyu was always good at cooking. He knew how to make every soup imaginable, how to pull together the end of the month pantry staples and wilted produce and fill your tiny Brooklyn apartment with the smell of home. He knew how to fish, how to gut and clean the dirty little perch that he pulled from the Hudson, how to fry them over a fire to make them taste less like mud and more like food. How to build the fire so the smoke wouldn’t be seen, how to put it out so the embers wouldn’t give away your campsite.

You can’t cook. You’ve never had to learn, not with Mingyu by your side.)

Like your own shadow, little piece of Mingyu follow you as you make your way up and down the aisles. It’s just the hallucinations, you tell yourself. At the end of the cereal aisle, you stand still for a moment and stare at yourself in the fisheye reflection of the security mirror mounted on the ceiling. The store is dark, and the mirror is dusty. For a moment, you think you can see Mingyu standing next to you. You see him, tall, broad, alive, so beautiful he might be an angel.

It’s still breathlessly silent around you, however. You know Mingyu can’t be standing beside you, because the air around you feels empty. But there he is, in the blurry reflection of a convenience store security mirror. You blink, and he’s still there.

Suddenly, you begin to feel uneasy. He’s just another hallucination, isn’t he? The mirror is too blurry for you to get a good look at his face, and a large part of you doesn't want to see his face anyway. You're certain it’s him in the reflection. You could recognize him anywhere just from the way he stands. But something about his figure isn’t quite right.

You know what you need to do. You need to look to your side, where he’s standing in the mirror. You know, whatever it is you’re seeing, you need to just turn your head to the side and look to know what it is. Just look, it seems to tell you. I’m right here, Mingyu says.

You blink, and the Mingyu in the reflection is gone.

It’s just you, standing there in a dark convenience store, backpack open in your hands. And uneasily, you laugh. “Hey, Mingyu,” you say aloud. It’s been a week since you last said anything, and your voice sounds thin and reedy in your head. You don’t hear a response.

“Mingyu, wouldn’t it be fucked up if ghosts were real too?”

A few months ago, zombies were just something you’d see in a video game or TV show. Maybe it’s not a hallucination, but you’re not sure if that makes you feel better.

By the time you’re done raiding the convenience store, several trips back and forth to your car later, the back seat is stocked with all kinds of shelf-stable calorie-dense food. Like little luxuries, you made sure to leave some room for toilet paper, for shampoo and soap, for toothpaste, for a few boxes of instant coffee. You still need to fill up the two empty gas cans in the trunk, but first, you think you’ll use the bathrooms here.

The doors to the bathroom are on the outside of the building, and you find the keys hanging by the staff break room in the back of the store. It takes a few tries, but eventually the key turns in the lock and you’re able to push the heavy steel door open with your body weight.

As soon as the door closes behind you with a loud bang, you instantly get a bad feeling. Everything in your intuition is telling you to run. The bathroom is dark, save for one humming emergency light still illuminated overhead, and it’s completely silent. You exhale, and the sound bounces off the tiled walls and floors, whispering before settling back into that tense silence from a moment ago.

By the entrance, there are three sinks lined up in front of a large cracked mirror. You peer around the corner to see three stalls, each separated by a wall, with tall floor-to-ceiling doors that don’t leave even a centimeter of a gap between the wall. It’s still completely silent, but the persistent buzzing undercurrent of anxiety in your head is screaming at you— something isn’t right. You inch forward, skin prickling, and lightly push on the first door. It swings open. Then, you push on the third door, which also opens. You place your hand on the center door, and you can immediately tell that it’s locked.

But the bathroom is so, so quiet. Even when you stand still, glued to your spot in front of the stalls, and listen, you don’t hear anything. It’s empty, it has to be. You glance back over your shoulder at the wide mirror hanging over the sinks, and you half-expect to see Mingyu standing next to you again, but all you see is yourself—dirty, greasy, haggard— and the bathroom behind you. It’s empty.

Slowly and quietly, you walk past the center stall and enter the last one. There’s no toilet paper, but it doesn’t matter. You finish peeing and consider flushing the toilet. There’s probably still water in the tank. But something about creating all that noise doesn’t sit right with you, so you decide to forgo the last little bit of socialization clinging to your brain and exit the stall. You should probably wash your hands, you realize, so you step up to the sink and turn one of handles and, to your surprise, a stream of clean water dribbles out.

You put your hand under the water. It feels decadent. It feels like an unspeakable luxury, as you push on the soap dispenser and let some of the pink slime fall into your palm, as you lather it up into a foam. You scrub at your hands, trying your best to get out every last bit of dirt and blood embedded beneath your fingernails. And when your hands are rubbed raw but clean, you cup your hands and collect some water to rinse your face with. You wash your face with the same pink liquid soap you used to wash your hands, something you would be aghast at in another life, but now it practically feels like a spa day. Weeks of grime dissolving under your fingertips and swirling down the drain.

You shut off the water and reach for the paper towel dispenser. Maybe the bathroom really is empty and your instincts are all wrong. The door to the middle stall could be jammed, or it could have been locked by building staff before the pandemic even broke out. It would be stupid of you not to come back and fill a jug with clean water, no matter what your intuition says.

For a moment, you stand stock-still, just so you can get another gauge on the bathroom. The last bit of water leaves the sink drain and it’s silent again. You watch yourself in the mirror, hold your breath, try to sense even the tiniest shift in the air. It smells like Mingyu, you realize. Clean and soapy and warm. It’s the same scent his skin used to carry. Like he’s here, next to you.

The bathroom is silent.

Your reflection stares back at you. The overhead light casts harsh shadows over your face, leaving your eyes dark and empty.

The bathroom is silent.

Mingyu’s scent, but it’s not comforting at all. Not in the way you used to nudge your nose against his throat during lazy Sunday mornings and inhale his warmth. Not in the way you’d wear his hoodies and press your face against the lining.

The bathroom is silent. And then, with a click, the middle door unlocks.

[princess-glassred]

The Night Henrietta Bowers Disappeared

The analog clock besides their bed flashed one am repeatedly as Henrietta Bowers tossed and turned with restless wide eyes.

She sighed and squirmed away from the loudly snoring figure, peeling back their soft floral duvet to get up.

Their old rickety floor boards creeked underneath her weight like it was gonna crack in half, and the cold floor nearly made her shriek and slink back to bed the moment her big toe touched the ground.

She clapped a hand over her mouth and worriedly glanced over to her husband, certain that creeky board and shriek had just given away her grand plan.

He didn't react at all though, when Butch Bowers slept he was usually impossible to wake, for better or for worse.

There were many times through out their marriage Henrietta had needed something, the keys to the truck, money for the store, formula for Henry, but Butch would always be out like a light by the time he got home.

That was typical for their marriage like theirs though, white trash, toxic, shotgun style.

It definetly warranted a divorce, but things like that just weren't done in places like Derry, more people killed their spouses than left them over here.

Butch wouldn't allow a divorce anyways, his temper always had a way of ruining any of Henrietta's attempts at happiness, and it often made her wonder if their marriage had ever even been good to begin with, or she had just diluted herself into thinking Butch wasn't always such a monster.

She still loved him though, she really shouldn't have, and she knew that very well, but she loved him so very much and just couldn't quit him.

She loved Butch despite the alcoholism, beer belly, laziness, and extreme violence, he was awful, but he was still her husband.

He was the father of her child, he provideded for her, beatings and scoldings be damned.

In many respects, Butch was her own alcohol, maybe just as Butch knew alcohol made him an asshole but he kept on drinking it, Henrietta knew Butch was hurting her, but she kept on loving him just to get through the day.

But even if Henrietta still loved Butch, that didn't mean Butch loved her back, he loved beer more than her or Henry at the very least.

She could have just stayed right there forever and ever, staring on at her husband's large sleeping figure, with his pot belly showing under the blanket's and the stench of booze and road houses under his breath.

She couldn't take it anymore though, and that part of her that reminded her over and over again of their love had to be snuffed out tonight for her own good.

She finally rose to her feet, confident enough that she wouldn't wake him, then walked over to his side of the bed.

Closer inspection of his face revealed premature wrinkles and twinges of grey hair, showing what the stress of his job and going to bars 24/7 had been doing to her husband's previously handsome face.

When they had met he looked so kind and loving, like a fairytale prince but a bit harier and harder around the edges, but thr fairytale seemed to die after he got back from the marines.

They were both only in their 30's but Butch had drank so much now his body looked 60, and living with a guy like Butch wasn't doing any favors to Henrietta's face either.

The stress would turn her beautiful blonde locks grey before too long now, and walking on eggshells around butch had already begun to give her early signs of crows feet.

It was like he was sucking out all the color from her life the longer she stayed, like the prospect of a happy ending was becoming farther and farther away from her with each day she kept calling Butch her husband.

She had to get away now, or she might never get the strength to leave ever again, and the next time she did, it might be too late to do anything.

She sighed once again with a shallow shakey breath, then pinched her little fingers around Butch's gold wedding band to slide it right off.

The ring glinted in the moonlight that spilled through their bedside windows, it was much too big to fit on Henriettas dainty fingers, but she could certainly pawn it off for money to escape.

Even if she couldn't, she still didn't wanna let Butch keep anything that reminded him of her, the ring was honestly better off at the bottom of a lake than on him.

She shoved the ring into one of her dressing gown pockets and opened the closet to reveal an already packed suit case.

It'd been sitting in there for months now, brought out then shoved back in three times before, those three times being Henrietta's other numerous attempts at leaving.

She had chickened out so many times, it almost felt unreal to think it was actually happening now, and that this would (hopefully) be the very last time she'd ever see her husband.

She sneaked out of the bedroom, carefully dodging creaky floor board after creaky floor board until she reached the front door of the house.

She placed her hand on the door knob, but something stopped her from walking out of the door right then and there.

Despite the urgency of the situation and Henrietta's fears, she couldn't leave just yet, she still had one more thing she needed to do, and it was probably the hardest thing she'd ever have to do in her whole life, much harder than leaving Butch.

She placed her suit case by the front door and creeped into the hallway, gently pressing against a door with big colorful letters that crookedly spelled out "Henry's" in the center.

The room looked like your standard toddler's room, toys strewn about, chairs to sit in, and a big basket of tiny clothes that needed to be washed, and over in the corner, right by a window, was a little toddler cot, with a sleepy toddler resting soundly on his stomache.

Henry was only 4, brown eyed, cherub curled, rosy cheeked, and so so very tiny. She knew that was quite an odd thing to note about your son, most other mothers would go on about how their sons were so handsome or strong for their age, and even though little Henry was both of those things, Henrietta could never get over just how freaking tiny he was.

He was a little bit smaller than your average four year old, probably due to the fact he was born premature.

Butch had caused her water to break 2 weeks earlier than the due date, and Henrietta couldn't even remember over what.

She just remembered him screaming and hitting at her a lot and suddenly being rushed to the hospital to give birth.

Thankfully, the doctors they'd taken him to said he was quite the lucky, despite the complications in his birth he was mostly healthy, and a growth spurt would probably fix his height no biggie, but for now he was still just a fairly tiny tot.

She knelt down beside him, rubbing a gentle hand across his cheek as she took in every bit of her son she could.

His mouth was hung open, and his right hand was balled into a little fist with his thumb still sticking out.

Poor Henry often sucked on his thumb for comfort, something that Henrietta found kinda cute but seemed to enrage Butch to no end.

He'd often notice Henry calmly sucking on his thumb in the living room and rip it right out of his mouth, telling him he was too old for that and it'd make his teeth grow in crooked and ugly.

He'd been trying to get Henry to break the habit for a while now, even resorting to soaking the boys thumb in vinegar, but the habit persisted.

Henrietta closed her eyes and exhaled out of her nose, then gently picked up Henry's hand and tenderly stuck his thumb back in his mouth.

Even if it was a bad habit he needed to break eventually, it felt cruel to force it on him now, he deserved to be comforted in his dreams.

He deserved to suck his thumb and cuddle with plushies and laugh at things that weren't funny.

She hoped he could hold onto that for as long as possible, innocence is such a rare thing these days, she wished for him to stay little and niave so maybe he wouldn't suffer so much grief.

She considered for a brief moment taking Henry with her, but she quickly dismissed it.

She wouldn't dare, a boy needs his father, they need each other.

She couldn't raise him all by herself, the entire reason she married butch at all was she was pregnant and didn't wanna be a single mother.

She'd seen the way people reacted to single mothers in Derry, it wasn't good, and he didn't want Henry to grow up with that stigma either.

"Better to be left by mommy than daddy" Henrietta mumbled, rubbing his other hand.

"I know you'll hate me for this. I know you'll never forgive me, but I hope you can understand one day why i'm leaving. I want you to be happy Henry, I want you to grow up big and strong, to be a protector, I want you to be everything your father isn't. I'm from a long line of Henry's and they all did great things. That name carries weight. I know you'll grow up good, and i'm sorry i won't be around to see it.".

She stood back up and walked back over to Henry's bedroom door with tears in her eyes, then turned to give him one last glance before she walked out forever.

"I love you Henry. I'll always love you. Even if you don't always love me." She said, nodding.

And with that final confession, she closed Henry's door, picked up her suit case, and left.

Come morning time, Butch Bowers nearly smashed everything in the whole house, and poor poor Henry was left all alone...

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

So on the way to that little spiritualist shop which was only 25 minutes away by bike, Siri made me go through wilderness trails because I had chosen the “less busy roads” route… and I hadn’t anticipated how difficult these trails would be.

First she made me go through ankle-deep swamp water from the rainfall (should’ve anticipated it from the night before but I’m a little dumb like that), then these really tightly-enclosed, tightly-winding, rough, steep, downhill passages which I couldn’t even ride my bike through without breaking my fucking neck. I had to tensely jog/scuttle my bike down these stupidly-dangerous hills on foot, in the middle of a hatch with at least five mosquitos in my face at any given moment. And THEN the path narrowed to two feet wide and went UPHILL at a 60-degree angle. I tried to go up it, but I realized I couldn’t go up any more without falling and sliding down the mini-cliff because of the mud and the fact that I was hauling my bike on foot. But I also couldn’t go down either because the path was two feet wide, muddy, and I couldn’t turn my bike or myself around very easily… so I was kind of stuck there for a bit thinking about how the hell to get down without bathing myself in mud and breaking my neck. And in the meantime the mosquitoes are using my face like it’s a tavern. AND THEN THIS KID AND HIS DAD WALKED BY AND WERE LIKE “HI HOW ARE YA?” ????? I’M FIGHTING FOR MY FUCKING LIFE UP HERE THANKS FOR ASKING.

But of course I said “Good” because I am no delicate little flower; I am a hard ROCK and man/woman enough to handle myself. Toxic masculinity for the win!

So I waited for them to pass so no one would see me eat shit on my bike because I would rather eat shit on my bike than have mosquitoes eat me. Also, it looked like they exited the woods, which is precisely what I wanted to do in that moment. So I very VERY carefully turned myself around and mountain-goat scuttled myself and my bike downhill with the bike backwards, without eating shit.

Anyway once I got the chance to look in a bathroom mirror when I went to the mall after going to the spiritual shop, I realized that I’ve been walking around this whole time looking like I’ve been punched in the eye because of the stupid mosquitoes. And I have work in the morning. Lord have mercy

[urmom609402]

Part 2 of The Cold

Happy Halloween!! I saw the interaction with the first part of this story and was really relieved to see that people enjoyed it. I hope this new addition will suffice, again, much love <33

PS. this is NSFW- w/w and w/m (I've never written smut so forgive me, but again, any notes or suggestions I will happily read them)

What felt like hours had passed, I was starving and even if I didn’t want to admit it…cold. Beyond all other feelings I somehow felt calm. It wasn’t Otis making me feel this way, but the fact that I was out of the storm. As the sky boomed outside I heard a clash of yelling and laughter roaring from below. Before I could try and make out what they were saying, there were stomps right outside the door. 

“Knock Knock poopy-head!” Baby cackled before busting the door down. “What’d my brother do to you? You dont look too good.” She smiled wide. “You need a new dress, I got just the thing.” she ran out the door before popping her head back in. “I’ll untie you when I get back.” She blushed faintly and sauntered across the hall.

Baby was a peculiar woman, precious in a way but clearly a little out of her mind. I enjoyed her company, although that could just be because she was the only person my age in the house. More than anything else I wish to get out of this rotting maze of a house, but if I step foot out of this room I know I'm going back to my boyfriend in a bodybag. The thing is, we lived near here too. Always driving past that fork in the road, steering clear of it everytime…like clockwork. But I guess it wasn't a total lie to say I needed a ride home, but i chose to walk home because I knew it was close enough before the convertible got to me. 

"I got just the thing.." Baby lifted up two dresses, one, a vintage flower dress from the early 60s. And the second, lingerie and a robe that looked exactly like Mama's. "I wasn't sure which one you preferred but I thought it could be fun to do a makeover." She smiled and sat in my lap. "You got real pretty eyes, you know? I think the blue flowers would match you well…." She reached around me to untie my wrists from the chair. "I'm gonna untie you, but please don't scream, or run. We'll just have a little makeover while my brothers…" she pauses. "Go find more friends." 

I didn't know how to respond as she was clearly covering herself up, but as she untied me I caught her staring at my exposed cleavage a couple times. I didn't feel uncomfortable per say, but I started to feel an unexplainable tension between us. She stood up in front of me, taking the dress off its hanger and putting it in front of me as I very slowly got up on my feet, taking a quick spin to get a better look at Otis' room. The drawings on the wall were unlike any I've ever seen, it was grotesque but beautiful. He had a talent for arts of some kind, clearly, but of what I couldn't tell beyond the walls. Baby quickly grabbed the sides of my hips.

"Hey silly? Gotta take your clothes off if you wanna look nice for Otis!" She smiled wide, spinning me around to face her.

"For Otis?" I asked, face still shocked from her hands.

"Yeah! I saw how he looked at you… you two know each other. I assume you two must've fucked or something-" she laughed softly at my discomfort. "Oh… my bad, but you'll still look very pretty once I'm done…" She blushed gently, holding my arms up in the air to take off my T-shirt. It was drenched in sweat, tears, rain and dirt. I had gone through hell and back and now she just took off all the pressure I've felt for the past few hours. As she undressed me I felt her hands explore a little more than expected. Pulling the dress over my breasts gently sliding up and down seeing if I noticed her touch or not- I had- or how her hands always hovered over mine as I slid the bottom of the dress down my thighs when I sat down again. She looked at me as if I was some goddess, a beauty she's never seen before.

"Thank you…I feel much better now." I said, voice a little hoarse.

"You look much better too… got a nice set of tits on you, huh?" She bit her lip taking me all in. 

"Thanks, not too bad yourself." I saw her mouth curve into a small grin before pouncing me onto the bed.

"You flirting with me?" She plays with my hair, tugging on it gently, as I try to weigh out my options. She tugs on one long strand hard "Heyy!!" She sounded annoyed like a little kid about to throw a tantrum. "Are you flirting with me or not?" 

Putting my hand over hers I tried to calm her down as her gaze became slightly animalistic over me. "Yes." Her face lit up, she readjusted herself so her knees were against my thighs, leaning over me. 

"Otis hasn't touched you has he?" She whispered before kissing my neck.

"No… should I be concerned about that?" I said petting her hair. I was too paralyzed and surprisingly turned on to move away.

"Maybe… he usually doesn't keep someone alive for this long so he must really admire you. Don't be surprised if he does more than touch you though…" she giggles softly and peppers kisses over my head and neck.

I felt a shiver go down my spine as she touched me.. caressing each curve with passion, slowly rocking herself back and forth over my thighs unknowingly. I felt so desperate for escape I just did what I needed to. Explore her. She didn't mind, but I had ever been with a woman, that became clear as soon as I tried to dip my hand between her thighs. 

She giggled, shoving my hand against her inner thigh. "You wanna feel how happy you make me?" She keeps my hand still as I try to glide up and down, a weak attempt at teasing. "Say it!" She said angrily. 

I sat up, hand still between her legs and nodded. "I want to feel every inch of you Baby." I took my other hand and hooked it onto her other leg, spreading them out more, so I can flip her under me. Before I could do that she stuck her hand under the dress knocking me back down onto the bed, kneading my breasts. As my breath grows shaky, I feel my pussy throb, desperate for some kind of touch. As I reached my free hand under the new panties she had given me, before she grabbed it and pinned my arms to my side.

"Let me help." Never breaking eye contact she snaked her way down onto the ground, grasping my ankles and draping my legs over her shoulders. As she dipped her head between my legs, she left long, soft kisses on my inner thighs. When I clamped my legs together she playfully bit my left leg. "I'll be gentle… just keep them apart for me.." she whispered sweetly, all previous emotions out of the window, no more anger, or animalistic urges, she wanted to help me out.

***

Bang bang bang

"Open the fucking door! This is my room Baby you better get your fucking ass out of it before I send a bullet through your god damn skull and drag you out myself!" Otis frustratedly screamed from the other end of the door. 

Baby wiped her lips, and looked behind us at the door. "Make me!" She pushed my legs back into the bed as if nothing happened, leaving me to lay down star-struck in the middle of the bed.

Soon there was a crash, door flying open to see Otis, now shirtless and a little bloodied. As he held himself back from smacking the shit out of Baby, he locked eyes with me, splayed out on his bed, legs trembling as my chest heaved post-orgasm. His stare wasn't how it was before, it wasn't the look of death.. it was a look of the admiration Baby mentioned before. He looked back at me, and then back at Baby, who was now flushed in the face as red as I was, giggling and licking my cum off her fingers trying to continue seducing me from across the room.

"Oh Jesus Baby you didnt!" Otis groaned, ripping her fingers out of her mouth.

"You're just jealous I got to her first!" She said hitting him and wiping the remainder of liquids from her hands on her dress. Otis pushed her out of the room leaving us alone together.

"Baby really touch you?" He gruffed walking over to me.

"She did more than touch.." I smiled.

He sat down on the other end of the bed. "Up." 

"Why?"

"Don't ask questions, just do it." He barked, flicking his finger up at the ceiling.

I felt very wobbly, unable to balance. I stood against the bed and looked back at him. He gave another inquisitive look at my face, and panned down my body.

"What are you doing?" I mumbled.

"Seeing what I'm working with sweetheart." I felt myself cringe at the pet name but tried not to let it show in my face as he edged closer to me, tracing his fingers against my waist. "Baby treated you real good didn't she?" He tisked. "If you just waited for me to come back like I said.. you would've been just as warm." He slapped my ass, holding me up causing me to jump. "You move an inch and I'll rip your spine out, y'hear me?"

I nodded. He let go of my ass and worked his way off the bed and onto his feet, looking down at me, gripping my chin firmly to get me to look at him.

"Here's what's gonna happen. You wanted to feel warm, so I'll make you feel like you're burning." He lifted my dress up. "Baby's?"

"Yeah… gave me a makeover."

"Good…” He took the dress and flung it across the room, taking in every inch of my body. “She gave you bruises, you know.”

“I don’t mind…”

“You don’t mind a little pain with your pleasure momma?” He smirks and leans down. “Baby treated you real good… but I can treat you better.” 

Suddenly, Otis took a quick bite on my neck, causing me to hold onto his shoulder. As he bit he gently kissed the wound, working his way around it with his tongue, noticing how I would jump a little under his touch. He understood I was afraid, and tried his best to control himself. The kisses he gave reached from my neck to my breasts, taking his sweet time. This lasted for nearly twenty minutes, simple kisses, nothing more, he wanted to tease me. 

Seduce me.

But who am I kidding? His goal was to tease.

And it was a success, I felt comfort and lust unlike any previous encounters I've had with a man...which freaked me out. How come a man who looked like he was going to kill me only hours before be able to turn me on so much? A question I’ll never be able to answer, I kept it in the back of my mind letting my body give into this wave of pleasure- forgetting I was stranded in a house of horrors. 

[scotianostra]

On April 23rd 1733 work began on the bridge over the River Tay at Aberfeldy with General Wade laying the foundation Stone.

Many people might not like the fact that Wade was in Scotland, but regardless of you opinion on him, many of you will have at some point travelled on a road, or crossed a bridge that was part of his work here in Scotland.

In 1925 Wade was charged with building a network of roads and bridges throughout the Scottish Highlands to aid the transport of men and equipment. The government was rightly concerned about the possibility of another Jacobite uprising following the '15, and wanted to make sure that military transport was as efficient as possible in case of another revolt.Over the next 15 years, Wade oversaw the building of 250 miles of roads - the first engineered roads in Britain since the departure of the Romans in the early 5th century. To link those roads he also built over 40 bridges.

The most impressive 'Wade bridge' spanned the River Tay at what is now Aberfeldy. At the time it was the only bridge across the Tay, allowing access to the central and eastern Highlands from the south. It is sometimes known as the Tay Bridge, although since the construction of the bridges at Dundee that name has gradually worn off, although I do know some Jacbites out there that will not call them Wades Bridge or Roads, the roads especially are called “Old Military Roads”

The humpbacked bridge was designed by the famous Scottish architect William Adam, father of Robert Adamwho went on to become perhaps the foremost country house architect in the country. General Wade considered the elder Adam 'the best architect in Scotland'.

Adam's design was much more than a purely functional piece of military architecture; he created a neo-classical five-arched bridge stretching 112m (368 feet), with a central span of 18.2m (60 feet). Adam added Baroque details, including four obelisks over the central span and decorative pyramids at each end. The central span also has a raised parapet. The roadway is 14 feet wide.

To ease the impact of water on the bridge piers there are triangular cutwaters. The arches are segmental, and the bridge is composed of grey chlorite schist with rubble spandrels and arch rings of dressed stone. The piers were supported by 1200 timber piles encased in with iron sunk into the river bed.

On the inner face of the parapet in the centre of the bridge is a dedication panel in Latin which translates as:

Admire this military road stretching on this

side and that 250 miles beyond the limits of the

Roman one, mocking moors and bogs, opened

up through rocks and over mountains, and, as

you see, crossing the indignant Tay. This

diffIcult work G. Wade, Commander-in-Chief of

the Forces in Scotland, accomplished by his own

skill and ten years labour of his soldiers in the

year of the Christian Era, 1733. Behold how

much avail the Royal auspices of George 2nd.

The exterior of the central arch bears another panel with relief carvings of a crown and crossed swords and the monogram of George II between them.

Stone was quarried at Farrowchil, a mile away. Skilled masons were brought from all across the north of England and they worked on finishing the blocks through the winter so that it could be quickly assembled in the summer. It was opened to traffic in October 1734, though the official opening ceremony did not take place until the summer of 1735.

The bridge cost a total of 4095 pounds (another source puts the cost at 3,596 pounds) and Wade considered it his finest achievement.

The building of Wade's Bridge was directly responsible for the town of Aberfeldy. At the time it was the only road bridge across the Tay, so it formed a vital link in transport routes. A settlement grew up near the east end of the bridge and in very short order grew to a considerable size.

Wade considered his network of roads and bridges an essential step in keeping peace in the turbulent Highlands. However, the only military commander to actually benefit directly was Bonnie Prince Charlie, whose Jacobite troops used the road network to their advantage during the '45 Uprising.

Bonnie Prince Charlie himself crossed the bridge in February 1746 on his retreat north after Derby. He stayed at Castle Menzies, just a mile away, for two days. Just two days after that a contingent of the Duke of Cumberland's soldiers followed him across the bridge. They would eventually catch up with the Prince and his men at the Culloden near Inverness, a battle that effectively ended Jacobite hopes.

Though many of General Wade's military roads are still in use today, the bridge in Aberfeldy is the only one of Wade's bridges still in daily use. Today it carries the B846 over the River Tay. It was not designed to carry two lanes of traffic so there are lights at each end to regulate traffic flow.

Although the bridge as a whole is impressive, the masonry is quite different from the smooth neatness of Telford’s or Smeaton’s later bridges – the outside is neater than the inside, but it’s still a quite different style.

[transportaplooza]

1987 Buick GNX in Escondido, California

Let's talk about a car that's not just cool but also seriously powerful – the 1987 Buick GNX. This car is special because it's not like your regular ride. It's like a superhero in disguise – it looks normal on the outside, but under the hood, it's a beast!

A Quick Look Back

Back in the '80s, Buick – a car company – decided to do something really awesome. They already had a car called the Grand National, which was pretty fast. But Buick wanted to make it even faster. So, they teamed up with some other cool companies to make something truly amazing – the 1987 Buick GNX.

Looks and Features

When you first see the GNX, it might not seem like anything special. It's black and looks pretty sleek. But if you look closer, you'll notice it has some cool features. The car sits low to the ground, has wide fenders, and a cool front grille. Inside, it's comfy with leather seats and fancy digital displays. But don't let the comfort fool you – this car is all about power!

The Power Inside

What makes the GNX so awesome is what's under the hood. It's got a special turbocharged engine – like a mini rocket engine for cars! This engine can make 276 horsepower and 360 pound-feet of torque. That's a fancy way of saying it's really, really powerful! With this engine, the GNX can go from 0 to 60 mph in just 4.6 seconds. That's like going from standing still to super fast in the blink of an eye!

Why It's Special

Even though they only made a few hundred of these cars, the GNX left a big mark. People still talk about it today because it was so fast and so cool. It's like a rare treasure for car fans. And because of cars like the GNX, we still see really fast and awesome cars on the roads today.

When you hear about the 1987 Buick GNX, remember it's not just a car – it's a legend. It's a reminder of how powerful and amazing cars can be. And who knows, maybe one day, you'll get to see one in person and feel the thrill of its power!

[russburlingame]

B is for Blockbuster

Okay, so this story isn’t about Blockbuster, but it’s about video stores. And for a generation of people – my generation – video stores and Blockbuster Video are inextricably bound together.

This is a fictionalized account -- or at least, the bit about my relationship with "Erin" (not her real name) is. What’s true, what’s not? Doesn’t really matter. The stuff that matters is true, and you get to decide what about this story matters.

I was 21 years old when my heart was broken for the first time.

I had been dating Erin – a friend from high school who turned into more – for a little over a year, and I was sure – absolutely sure – that I was going to marry her. When she got accepted to the University of New Hampshire – a several-hour-drive away – I bought my first car (hers) just so I could go see her on the weekends.

On her birthday, I was waiting for Erin to get back from dinner and call me, to let me know she had gotten home okay. She was on a trip with her sailing club – yeah, apparently that’s a thing at some colleges – and I just wanted to touch base before going to sleep. No, this isn’t a tragic story of somebody lost at sea. She just got drunk and made out with somebody.

Either way, she didn’t call me that night, or until well into the next day. This was 2001, and it wasn’t especially common for people to be in constant contact via text, so sometimes, you just…didn’t know what was up with people you loved. Crazy, I know.

Erin finally called me, tearfully confessed, and I forgave her. I was scared for her safety and glad to find out that she was fine.

We talked for hours that day, but a week later, she called again: she didn’t think she could keep up the distance thing. She needed more than a weekend boyfriend.

I was crushed, and I begged her to hold off on making a decision until we had seen each other again. The summer was coming up, and we were both really excited about seeing Jay & Silent Bob Strike Back, so I figured it was worth having one last day out, and a long talk face to face.

It didn’t really work out that way. She agreed to the idea, but didn’t call me again for the rest of the semester, and it was pretty obvious things were doomed. When she got home from school, she asked if I wanted to come over for an afternoon, and I did – although this was about a month and change early for Kevin Smith.

We hung out, played Scrabble, fooled around, and got into a playful wrestling match. She managed to pin me to the ground, and instead of taking advantage of my helplessness, she kissed me on the cheek and got back up.

Oof.

With a few hours left before her parents came home, we decided on watching a movie.

What movie?

No ideas came. Erin suggested a trip to the video store.

Now, you young’uns don’t understand that the video store was a great place to hang out in the days before the modern internet. I could kill hours there. So, hell yeah, let’s go to the video store. Erin drove, and we headed east out onto the big boulevard where all the stores are. To my surprise, we passed right by Blockbuster. Where were we going?

The local Blockbuster, which was about a half-mile from Erin’s house, was the only video store I knew of on this side of town. To go anywhere else I knew about, it was at least an extra ten to fifteen minutes of driving. Chimney’s, the great video store that had been another mile or so down the road, had recently folded, much to everyone’s collective chagrin.

Erin turned toward Chimney’s, and I figured maybe she was just confused.

“Chimney’s is closed,” I said, bemused.

“Yeah, I know. I’m going to a place my dad likes,” she answered. Another mile, a turn, and…well, damn. There’s another video store.

Emerald City Video was a store with a narrow storefront, but inside, it was cavernous. The store was probably 20 feet wide by 60 feet deep, with a great selection and an adult room hidden in the back corner. Movie props hung from some of the walls – high enough up that you couldn’t take them down and mess with them – including a shield from Spartacus, a costume used in Killer Klowns From Outer Space, and high-end replicas of props from The Mummy and the James Bond franchise.

This. Was. Heaven.

I was so immediately taken with the place, that I barely noticed when the guy behind the register greeted us. I wandered to the “special interest” section – where they had cult classics, documentaries, and anything LGBT-themed – and looked it up and down. A middle-aged woman with short hair and glasses saw me staring, and asked if I needed help.

“Oh – no, I was just checking things out. I’ve never been here,” I admitted. “This is a great store.”

Erin had gone to a more mainstream section of the store to find a movie we could watch while cuddling. It would be the last time, and by this point both of us knew it, so she looked for something sweet and timeless and sentimental. She really went all in on giving this relationship a proper sendoff.

Me? I was sitting in the Special Interest section, talking with…umm…

“I’m Russ,” I said, offering my hand. The woman took it.

“I’m Rita,” she said. “I’m one of the owners.”

I don’t remember what movie Erin and I watched. I don’t remember what Rita and I talked about. What I do remember, is that by the end of the conversation, Rita suggested I should apply for a job at the store.

I had just, days before, started a job at Barnes & Noble. Like basically everyone else, I applied to be a bookseller, and got immediately hired to sling coffees for B&N/Starbucks. I take black coffee, and am very – very – bad at making sweet, frothy coffee drinks. I knew my days were numbered. I took the application. It’s been more than 20 years since I walked into that store for the first time, and as far as I know, there are no extant photos of “Store 1” – the location where I first encountered Emerald City Video. But I can still see it when I close my eyes. It was – ironic, given its name – a magical place.

I would work at Emerald City Video – mostly at Store 2 – on and off for the next 7 years, before moving to New York City to chase down my dreams of being an entertainment writer.

Where was Store 2? Well, we manage to get hold of the store formerly known as Chimney’s. For years, it had been our town’s home entertainment Mecca, and now, ECV was going to restore it to its former glory.

Of course, now it’s split up between a cardio kickboxing place and a laser hair removal center. But still.

I still love Erin. Dating her was good for my personal development, good for my soul. She’s a good person, and the once-in-a-blue-moon when we get to chat, I always enjoy it. And on top of everything else, Erin gets to claim credit for introducing to the place that would change my life.

When I was 24, I first met my (now) wife Cali…at Emerald City Video.

Cali was a customer, and she had a crush on me. I was in another relationship, and entirely oblivious to her interest. My obliviousness was taken as disinterest, and nothing happened for a handful of years, before we finally bumped into each other while single. But it’s funny to think about how the first girl to really, truly break my heart, was the one who brought me to Emerald City Video. She put me in the right place, at the right time, to meet the person who still makes that heart swell every day.

In 2021, I fulfilled a life-long dream and published my first book. For a variety of reasons, I went the self-publishing route. The name of my publisher? ECV Analog. The logo: a modified version of the old Emerald City Video logo. Rita and her husband Jim, the owners of Emerald City, joined me at a movie theater nearby to celebrate the book launch.

[mariacallous]

LIMA, Peru—When Dina Boluarte was abruptly sworn in on Dec. 7, 2022, the fact that she was the first female president in Peru’s 201-year history was widely noted, yet barely explored by Peruvian media. Journalists had other things on their minds: Boluarte’s inauguration took place just hours after her predecessor Pedro Castillo was impeached for attempting to dissolve Congress and rule by decree, bringing down the curtain on a 17-month administration that had tipped the Andean republic into unremitting political instability and chaos.

Boluarte’s professional credentials as a lawyer felt like a qualitative leap forward for the presidency—regardless of the fact that she, like her predecessor, had never held public office before becoming vice president for the self-declared Marxist-Leninist Free Peru party in the June 2021 elections.

The youngest of 14 children from a working-class family in the remote Andean market town of Chalhuanca, nearly 10,000 feet above sea level, Boluarte said in her maiden presidential speech that her priority would be to fight for “the nobodies, the excluded, the others, to have the opportunity and access that has historically been denied to them.”

“More than a politician, I am a Peruvian citizen and mother who fully understands the high responsibility that history has put on my shoulders,” she declared. “Responding to that high responsibility is [a show of] my respect for the millions of Peruvian mothers who day after day provide sustenance for their families.”

Now, three months since Boluarte’s swearing in, her presidency has descended into a dark mess of severe human rights violations, its legitimacy decimated by allegations of principle-free political opportunism, brutal authoritarianism, and racism. It looks increasingly inevitable that Peru’s first ever female president will face a similar fate to Castillo, the country’s first ever campesino president (in Peru, the term means someone of indigenous ancestry who works the land), with a post-presidency dogged by legal problems and a potentially lengthy jail sentence.

At the time of writing, 48 Peruvians had been killed by security forces, some while protesting violently; some while demonstrating peacefully; and some who were just bystanders, including a medical intern treating an injured protester. Another dozen people died after protestors’ road blockades prevented them from receiving emergency medical treatment, and one police officer was found dead in a burnt-out patrol car.

In a searing report released in February, Amnesty International warned that Boluarte had presided over an out-of-control police and armed forces that, motivated by “systemic racism ingrained in Peruvian society,” had repeatedly violated international human rights standards by using “lethal ammunition to control demonstrations.” Many Peruvians view Boluarte as having blood on her hands. Three-quarters want her to resign.

“We are not celebrating her presidency,” Indigenous feminist activist Tarcila Rivera Zea said. “For us, it has meant pain and sadness, with so many deaths. More than anything else, it is a feeling of frustration and disappointment.

Boluarte, 60, who is bilingual in Spanish and the indigenous Quechua language, started her presidency relatively well. Indeed, in her inaugural address, she distanced herself from Castillo, referencing her “revulsion” at his flagrant alleged graft and condemning his “attempted coup.” Having been expelled from the Free Peru party nearly a year earlier after openly disagreeing with the party’s more extreme politics—and after managing to stay clear of her predecessor’s endless corruption scandals—she had some credibility in the matter.

But her legacy, to the extent she has one, will remain inseparable from that of her predecessor. This is not only a matter of the authoritarian excesses of her leadership over security forces, but also her emphasis on social conservatism, which has been one of the few areas of common ground between Free Peru’s presidential administrations and the hard-right congressional majority. Free Peru’s campaign manifesto has even been accused of advocating “machismo Leninism” for accusing the state of “subcontracting” its obligation to provide for the children of separated parents to absent fathers by requiring them to pay child support.

“It’s also a lesson learned,” Rivera Zea added. “What her presidency shows is that it is not enough to be a woman or speak Quechua if you don’t have that sensibility or identification with the historically excluded. She could have been a president who showed strength, wisdom, justice, and respect for human rights. Instead, she has aligned herself with the worst in Peruvian politics.”

Far from being carried on the back of a feminist wave, Boluarte’s rise to power came at a particularly challenging time for gender rights in Peru, even as some other Latin American nations have been relaxing restrictions on abortion and increasingly tackling gender violence. Peru was already one of the most socially conservative societies in Latin America, with what are thought to be some of the highest rates of sexual violence in the region, and where abortion is only allowed in cases where the mother’s health is at risk.

It is unclear whether Boluarte has ever identified with the feminist movement, although she has shown an appreciation of gender issues. “[Boluarte’s] not a feminist in the sense of a feminist activist,” Alexandra Ames, a political scientist at Lima’s University of the Pacific, said. “But she’s definitely a woman who feels that she has got ahead by working hard, harder than men would normally have to, and seems to have that awareness.”

While she was vice president, Boluarte also served as minister for development and social inclusion, a role that would normally have a strong gender component. During that time, gender rights came under a sustained assault from lawmakers, one that might have been met with effective resistance from a different executive.

Members of Congress sought to further restrict already highly limited abortion rights with a blanket ban, and change the name of the Ministry of Women to the Ministry for the Family—a switch that in Peru’s machista society could have potentially life-and-death policy consequences for, for example, women facing abusive partners.

But the most damaging counter reform has been a new law allowing parents to block classes with a gender focus—or, as Peruvian conservatives call it, gender ideology.

First introduced to the national curriculum in 2004, gender focus concepts, which include sex education, were aimed at raising awareness among boys and girls of the harms caused by Peru’s patriarchal culture—everything from wage disparities to femicide. Conservatives, often fundamentalist evangelical Christians, caricature gender focus as “cultural Marxism” that encourages premature sexual activity and pressures children into homosexuality and transgenderism.

“Getting rid of gender focus will do enormous damage,” warned Gloria Montenegro, former minister of women. “You’re getting rid of sex education, of a girl’s right to understand herself, to make informed choices, or have good self-esteem. What is so lamentable is that in Peru, we already have so many cases of physical and sexual abuse, of women being raped, often in their own homes, and this is going to make all of that worse.”

Throughout the debate over the curriculum, Boluarte was notable for her silence. She did, at different points during her work as a minister, show protocolary support for gendered development policies, including to empower indigenous women. But she failed to provide any substantive leadership, much less confront the attack on gender focus.

Boluarte did restore gender parity in her government after Castillo’s notorious cabinet appointments, which were not just overwhelmingly male but frequently involved ministers with a track record of misogynistic statements and even domestic abuse—including, briefly, one prime minister.

Ironically, however, that parity was just a return to the status quo ante in a country which, despite its entrenched patriarchy, had previously had some half dozen female prime ministers. Indeed, at one point, just before Castillo’s surprise election victory, almost all the major roles of state barring the presidency had been occupied by women, including the prime minister, foreign minister, defense minister, speaker of Congress, chief prosecutor, head of the judiciary, and chair of the constitutional court.

Boluarte’s term is scheduled to end in 2026, although the deadly repression of anti-government protests means she faces huge and potentially irresistible pressure to resign. Either way, her story as Peru’s first female president seems unlikely to end happily.

Montenegro said Boluarte’s mistake was not realizing she didn’t need to cross the political aisle to build a base of power. “She abandoned the Free Peru program, which, as a party of the left, had a strong social agenda, especially for rural Peru,” she said. “She’s an Andean woman; she should have understood. Where’s the political skill, the ability to broker political compromise and then sell that to the population?”

Protesters are now demanding a constituent assembly to draft a new constitution capable of addressing stark economic injustices. However, a new constitution could also entrench gender inequality. Although there have been no polls on the issue of gender rights in a new constitution, surveys show that most voters want a conservative Magna Carta when it comes to social issues, including prohibiting same-sex marriage and reinstating both compulsory military service and the death penalty.

As for Boluarte personally, the moment she loses her presidential immunity she faces criminal exposure as a head of government who presided over heavily armed police and soldiers gunning down anti-government protesters.

“She’s going to have very serious problems with the justice system,” Montenegro said. “She doesn’t seem to understand that there is no statute of limitations for human rights violations.”

[starshine-hockey-girl]

I posted 2,973 times in 2022

That's 594 more posts than 2021!

492 posts created (17%)

2,481 posts reblogged (83%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@princessphilly

@soft4hardthings

@laurenairay

@horsesandhockeyplayers

@jostystyles

I tagged 585 of my posts in 2022

#never ever have i - 76 posts

#nhl imagine - 75 posts

#nhl fic - 60 posts

#nhl fiction - 60 posts

#nhl smut - 47 posts

#stars lb - 44 posts

#hockey rpf - 42 posts

#sidney crosby imagine - 41 posts

#sidney crosby fanfiction - 41 posts

#jamie oleksiak - 36 posts

Longest Tag: 119 characters

#reboosting for those who may not have seen the original one. a mixture of hockey and marvel? what is there not to love?

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Baby, You're An All Star- Never Ever Have I Chapter Ten

Author's Note: Sidney and Evie continue to make plans for their future. Evie plots a surprise for Sidney and then accompanies Sidney to the All Star game

Warnings- consensual sex, semi-public sex, alcohol use, Daddy/Breeding Kink

@fallinallincurls @penstxgal1968 @princessphilly @newlibrary @pattiemac1

January 3rd, 2019

"Evie," Sidney called as he walked into Evie's cottage from his road trip, "I'm home".  He had a small package in his hand that he placed on the kitchen counter. Evie bounded down the stairs and smiled at him. She was wrapped in a towel with her hair up in a messy bun. He laughed, "Why are you not dressed?" 

"I was dressed earlier, but just got home from a workout and took a shower so I wasn't all stinky for my man," she teased. She walked close to him and kissed his chest, "How was the flight? Did you get any sleep?" 

"Why do you ask?” He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her waist. 

She dropped her towel, "I wanted to make sure you are well rested. I have a workout in mind that I want to try with you. Ever heard of naked yoga?" 

He shook his head no playfully, "Ma'am, I am a simple boy from Nova Scotia. We don't have fancy workouts like that." 

"Let the big city girl show you. Now get naked, Sidney.” She backed away with a grin and motioned him to follow. https://www.healthline.com/health/sex-yoga#yoga-poses

She lowered her body to the rug and winked at him. Sidney started stripping his clothes off and followed her onto the rug. "Let's start with something simple- cat and cow pose.” Evie demonstrated the stretch as Sidney smirked. Sitting on her hands and knees, her back stretched up into cat position. She then arched her back and lifted her bottom high into air. He gave her ass a playful swat before performing the pose. She moved into bridge pose. Sidney plopped down to the floor, rolled to his side and watched as Evie laid on her back with her legs spread hip width apart and lifted her hips into the air. He moved to his knees, crawled between her legs and put his torso on her chest, pushing her hips down to the ground with his weight. She laughed, "Sidney, I can't do my workout with you on top of me." She could feel his erection pressing against her as she tried to lift her hips again. 

He kissed her neck, "Workout time is over. Let's move on to sexy time." His hands reached down to grab her hands and put them above her head. 

She resisted against his grasp, "Sidney, one more pose. I want to show you the best one. You will like it. I promise." He reluctantly let go of her hands and sat back on his knees. She bent her knees toward her abdomen and grasped the bottom of her feet. She held her feet as her knees widened and she stretched herself wide open. "Guess what the pose is called?”, she smiled. "Happy Baby. I think it should be Happy Baby Girl. Will you make your Baby Girl happy?" 

Sidney licked his lips, "I like you opened wide for me. Are you ready for Daddy? I am going to make you feel so good." He guided his cock to her slick folds, rubbing the tip up and down. He smirked at her, "Answer the question for Daddy. Are you ready for Daddy? Are you ready to take Daddy deep?”

Evie rocked her hips, stared into his eyes, and moaned, "Yes, Daddy, I am ready for you. Can you feel how wet your Baby Girl is? I can take you deep." She gasped as he slid into her. "Yes, Daddy,so good. Fill me up with your big cock." She wrapped her legs below his ass, drawing him in deeper. 

Sidney grabbed her wrists and held them above her head. His mouth went to her ear, "Good girl, keep your hands above your head." She nodded her understanding. "Daddy is going to give you more than his cock today. I am going to fill you up with my cum. I am going to make you mine forever. Put a baby into you. Put a baby into my Baby Girl." Evie's eyes widened. Her body went to another level of desire with his words. "You want that Baby Girl? You want Daddy to fill you with my hot seed?" Evie squeezed herself onto his cock. "Yes, milk it out of me. You want it. I can tell." he moaned.

"Please, Daddy, please," she begged into his ear. "Do it. Put a baby into me." 

He grabbed her hips and lifted her up into the air to adjust the angle. She threw her head back and arched her back even more. "Cum for Daddy. Cum like the good girl you are," he panted as Evie's legs quaked and shivered. He grunted as he thrust deeply, "Get ready, Evie. Daddy's cumming for you." Her legs squeezed tight under his ass and she held him there as he filled her completely. 

He collapsed onto her chest and she smiled as he showered her neck with kisses. He looked at her shyly, "That was okay? You liked it?" 

She ran her fingers through his hair, "Ummm, surprisingly yes. It was hot." 

He lifted his body off of hers slightly, "You are going to look so good when you grow our baby inside of you."

She smiled lazily, "You think?"

He nodded, "I can't wait. One day, Evie, one day."

Evie sighed contently, "Yes, one day."

He nuzzled her neck, "I missed you. Being with you all the time in Cole Harbour spoiled me."

"Beso, this has been great, but I am freezing.” Evie wiggled underneath him, “I am going to take a shower and get dressed." He rolled onto his side and watched her get up. "Do you want to take a shower too? I kind of got you messy."

He smiled and nodded yes. "Hey, I brought a package inside from the porch. It's on the counter."

She went to the kitchen and picked up the package. She did a little happy dance, "It came. Your last gift is here, Beso. I can't wait to show you." He got up and lifted her over his shoulder, "Sidney!!",she shrieked as he carried her up the stairs. He deposited her on the counter of the bathroom with a laugh before he turned on the shower.

He placed his hand on her cheek and smiled at her, "What's my present?" 

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62 notes - Posted March 14, 2022

#4

Crosby Crew Part Three

The third and final chapter

Author's Note- Big day for the crew- Callie's game day finally arrives and hijinks ensue

Sera felt Sidney wrap his warm body around hers and place his large hands on her bump. She wiggled back into him and hummed softly. "Mr. Crosby," she murmured, "What time is it?" 

He nipped at her ear and replied, "Callie's not awake. She probably won't wake up for at least forty five minutes. Seraphina, I can think of a lot of things we can do in forty five minutes." He feathered her neck with kisses as he pressed into her.

"I think those things are how I ended up with this huge baby bump," she teased.

"There has never been a more beautiful bump in history," he moaned in her ear

Suddenly the door flung wide open. "Daddy, Daddy, Daddy," Callie shrieked as she ran into the room. "Do you know what today is?" She questioned as if he somehow forgot. Sidney groaned and adjusted himself so that evidence of his arousal was concealed. "Daddy, do you not remember? Why were you hugging Mommy from behind?"

Sera laughed out loud and rocked herself to get out of bed. Sidney groaned again and mumbled, "Traitor," at his wife's abandonment of him in bed. Sera made her way to the bathroom for yet another trip to pee. He raised up on his elbows and stared at Callie. She had clearly been up for a while because she was fully dressed. "Remind me what today is. I seem to have forgotten," he teased his baby girl.

“Did you really forget?” she said with wonder.

“Calllie, Callie, Callie- I know what today is-Saturday which means it is DONUT day!” he said loudly, “Is there anything else going on?”

She crossed her arms and stomped her feet. "It's not funny," she screamed, "it's not funny, Daddy." He got out of bed and scooped her into his arms. She tried to squirm away. “No thank you, Daddy,” she whined, “I don’t like it when you tease me.” He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and put her back on the ground. 

He squatted in front of her and spoke softly, “I am sorry, Callie. It was rude of Daddy to not acknowledge that this is a big day for you. Thank you for using your words to share your feelings.” Callie stomped her foot again and pouted. She turned away from him before turning back to him. He held open his arms and she threw herself into them. “I know that this game day for you. It’s your first one and it’s a big deal,” he whispered, “Daddy will always know the big days for you. Are you still feeling nervous?”

“A little,” she whispered.

“Okay, thanks for telling me. I think that you are going to do great today,” he whispered back, “Go brush your hair and teeth. I wasn’t kidding about the donuts.”

“Yes, Sir,” she ran back to her room and scrambled to get dressed. 

Sidney walked into the bathroom and wrapped his arms around Sera while she brushed her teeth. “So close yet so far,” he teased as he kissed her neck. She leaned back against him as he reached down and lifted her bump lightly, relieving the pressure on her back. A soft moan came from her mouth. “Better?” he whispered as she nodded. She shook her head yes. “You are amazing, Seraphina. I don’t tell you enough,” he whispered in her ear, “I am taking Callie to get donuts. You need a break before all hell breaks loose later.” 

“Mmmm, you are not so bad yourself, Sidney.” she hummed, “When do they arrive?”

“They will be here at about ten,” he answered, “I have Callie this morning. Please get some rest, Seraphina.”

“Thank you, Sidney,” she smiled, “Maybe we can sneak away before the game?”

His eyebrows raised, “You think?”

She nodded her head, “I think it can be arranged.”

Sidney raised his fists in victory and yelled, “Callie, let’s go!”

Callie sat at the kitchen table, nibbling the frosting off of her pink donut, while she colored in her coloring book. Sidney watched with mild bemusement as she stuck her tongue out as she focused on completing the intricate gown of Belle. Callie had made an executive decision to change the color of Belle’s gown from yellow to purple because “I like purple better Daddy.” Sera reclined on the couch reading her novel and mentally counting the kicks inside of her bump. Her son was fully awake and on a kicking binge. 

Sidney’s phone lit up with an incoming Facetime call from Geno. “Hey G,” he said before fully looking at the phone. Nikita Malkin’s face appeared on the screen. “Oh sorry, hey Nikita, what’s up?” 

Nikita coughed into his elbow then stared into the screen. Sidney could hear Geno tell Nikita, “Ask to speak to Callie.” Then he walked up behind Nikita and waved to Sidney, “He still learn manners.”

Nikita spoke loudly, “I like to speak to Callie.”

Sidney smiled before Callie snatched the phone from his hand and walked out of the room. Sidney called, “Callie, where are you going?”

“I need privacy, Daddy,” she called back as she sat on the stairs to talk to her friend.

Callie smiled brightly, “Hi Nikita! Are you going to come to my game today?”

See the full post

71 notes - Posted August 15, 2022

#3

The Crosby Crew- Part Two

Author’s Note- It originally started as a little blurb that grew into a story about Sidney Crosby as a hockey dad to his adorable daughter Callie.

Part Two- Callie has her last practice before her first game

Word Count-6K

Part One- https://starshine-hockey-girl.tumblr.com/post/661790024969420801/authors-note-just-a-small-little-blurb-that-came

@fallinallincurls @pattiemac1 @princessphilly @penstxgal1968

Crosby House- Sewickley, PA

"Callie!" Sidney called from the bottom of the stairs, "You need to be downstairs, dressed for practice, in five minutes." He stood and waited for a response before calling again, "Callie girl, please answer or acknowledge me." Sera walked past Sidney into the kitchen. "Your daughter isn't listening, Seraphina," he teased.

"I guarantee that she is upstairs playing Minecraft," she replied with an eyebrow raised. Sidney stared at her, thought about responding, and thought better of it. Playing Minecraft started as a way to connect with Callie while he was on the road. He hadn't anticipated the hold it would take in Callie's life. Now it was next to impossible to get her to focus on anything else.

He called again, "Calliope Alexandria Crosby, you now have four minutes to get downstairs."

The petite brunette appeared at the top of the stairs holding her hockey bag, "I am coming, Daddy." She lumbered down the stairs towards her father. He smiled as she passed him. Together they walked into the kitchen. Sera stood at the kitchen island packing the snack bag for Callie's pre-practice and post-practice snacks. "Mama, are you coming with us?"

Sera looked down at her large baby bump and swollen feet. "Callie, I need to rest up. Daddy will send me lots of pictures." Callie pouted slightly, dropped her bag and kicked at it. Sera and Sidney shared a look and did a quick game of rock, paper, scissors to determine who would deal with the action. Sidney’s paper covered her rock and she stuck her tongue out at him. “Callie, I understand that you are disappointed that I am not going but you are not going to even notice that I am not there at all. You’ll be focused on your coach," she said as bent down to Callie's eye level. She stood up straight again and smiled, "If I remember right, I believe your father agreed to a stop for ice cream if you work hard at practice. Isn’t that right, Daddy?” He nodded in agreement with a smirk. There had been no such agreement but he wasn’t about to argue with his wife who was due to give birth to his son within the next two weeks. “In the meantime, please pick up your bag and carry it properly. Until you play in the NHL, you need to manage your own equipment. Please and thank you.”

Callie gathered her bag and walked to the door. Sidney walked over to his wife and kissed her, “Get some rest, Seraphina. Your ankles look swollen. You need to put them up.” She looked down and shook her head in disbelief. “What flavor?” he called from the door.

“What do you mean?” Sera asked sweetly.

“What flavor of ice cream do you want, Sera?” he laughed, “I am not foolish enough to come back to this house empty handed.”

“You decide. You know what I like,” she smiled, glad that he picked up on the hint.

In the car, Sidney buckled Callie into her booster seat then got in the front seat. He started the short drive to the rink. “So Callie, are you excited for your last practice before the big game?” Callie stared out the window and didn’t respond. “Callie Girl, what’s up with you?” he teased. She took a deep breath and nodded yes. Sidney was unsatisfied with her response but decided not to pursue it any further.

They drove in silence until he pulled into the rink parking lot. She stood stoically by the trunk while he retrieved her bag and stick from the trunk. She picked them up and put the bag straps over her shoulder, grabbed her father’s hand and began walking into the rink. She kept her head down and ignored the looks and whispers that accompanied going anywhere with her father. When they got through the double doors separating the rink from the lobby, Callie dropped her father’s hand and started running to the aluminum stands on the far side of the rink. “Lilyanna!” she called as she saw her friend who sat on the bench while her mother dressed her. Lilyanna stood up and ran to Callie. They embraced with joyful hugs. Callie looked back at her father, “Come on Daddy, we have to get dressed.” Callie’s face beamed as she sat next to her friend. Sidney knelt down with a nod to the mom beside him and unzipped the bag.

The mom looked over and smiled, “Don’t let Callie fool you. Sera makes her do her gear herself with the exception of the sock tape.” Sidney’s head popped up in surprise.

Callie’s eyes got wide. “Trying to fool Daddy, eh?” Sidney laughed. “Go ahead and show me how you do it,” he stated as he stood up to watch. She looked down at the bag and sighed. She was tempted to tell Lilyanna’s mom to mind her own business, but knew that would be met with a strong reaction from her father. She started with her shin pads and began dressing. Once she got her hockey socks on, she taped the bottom and looked at Sidney. He bent down and tore the tape. He handed it back to Callie, “Good job so far. Keep going.” She smiled and quickly worked to finish getting dressed. “So Mom makes you do this yourself?” he asked.

Callie nodded as she struggled with her jersey. She said as she tangled her limbs up in it, “Sometimes she has to help with this part.” Sidney straightened out the jersey and looked around at the other parents dressing their kids. He made a mental note to have a conversation with Sera later. Callie stood and put her helmet on. The gate opened and the coach whistled for the team to get on the ice. Callie looked at the ice and back at her father, “You have to do the thing, Daddy.”

“What thing?” he asked.

“You’re not doing it right, Daddy,” she whined.

“What am I not doing?” he asked, confused.

“You have to say ‘Okay Callie Crosby- what do we do on the ice?’ Then I say ‘Listen the first time, do my best and have fun’ and then you say ‘Love you Callie Girl’” she instructed, “You have to do it before I go on the ice. Hurry Daddy, I’ll be late!”

“Callie Crosby- what do we do on the ice?” he said with a smile.

“Listen the first time, do my best, and have fun,” she responded.

“Love you Callie Girl,” he yelled as she sprinted to the door.

There was a gaggle of kids trying to squeeze through the door. Callie and Xander tried to squeeze in at the same time. He knocked Callie over in the process and skated off to put his water bottle on the bench ledge. She skated over and gave him a death glare before she placed her water bottle on the ledge. Sidney crossed his arms and watched as they warmed up. When the coach blew the whistle, Callie took a knee in front of him and focused on his words. Xader and the rest of the boys traded funny faces and laughs while the Coach spoke. When he finished his explanation, the tiny players lined up to start. Xander stood behind Callie, "Hey Callie.”

She turned to him with an exasperated sigh, “What Xander?”

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92 notes - Posted July 14, 2022

#2

Hello Sunshine- Winter Fic Exchange

.

This story is written for@jxmieoleksiaks- She requested following players and genres: Tyler Seguin, Jamie Oleksiak. fluff, smut (18+ only), hurt/comfort, angst - with a happy ending, alternate universe. Reader Insert or OC

Summary-The last thing you expect when arriving at the rink is running into one of the Dallas Stars' biggest names. but when the day unfolds and you're getting swept up in his kindness, much more happens than you ever would have imagined

Warnings- light body shaming, adult language, alcohol use, consensual sex

Huge thanks to @fallinallincurls for her support and feedback.

@antoineroussel

You had been skating for almost a year, the result of a bet that your friends were sure that you would lose. They had looked at your larger size and dismissed your dream of playing ice hockey. You had no real ambitions other than to add another type of workout to your routine and maybe learn more about hockey by actually playing it. You had recently become fan of the Dallas Stars so why not join the proverbial club?

You tugged at your Penguins Oleksiak jersey over your head and pulled it down. You grabbed your stick and water bottle and made your way out of the locker room to wait by the ice. The crowd slowly started to grow and you leaned on your stick, making note of the competition. The dark jerseys seemed to be made of a couple of high school kids, some clearly wannabe NHL rejects and a couple of Papa Bear older men. You were the only female. “Great,” you thought to yourself. You were accustomed to being the lone female on the ice most of the time. However, it was nice to have a dose of estrogen every once in a while.

The buzzer sounded and you skated across the ice to the bench. You placed your water bottle down and watched as the pick-up game develop. After a several minute shift by the first group, you understood how this game would go and gritted your teeth. Still, you remained determined to get whatever you could out of the experience. When you finally got onto the ice and assumed your usual defensive position, you were feeling relaxed and confident. The feeling was short-lived when a young punk stripped you of the puck and skated down the ice to score easily. “Fuck,” you thought to yourself and skated back to the bench. That set the tone for the session. You had several more shifts of condescending remarks- ”Watch yourself, Princess”, unnecessary hits along the boards and one accidental “tripping” before you let the frustration get the better of you. It was the jeer of “So long, Big Rig!” that sent you over the edge.

You ripped open the door and slammed it behind with a growl. You stormed through the hall that connected to the two rinks. “Motherfuckers,” you muttered to yourself. You made the turn to the left, muttering to yourself, “Fucking Big Rig. I’ll show you fucking Big Rig.” Your eyes stung with tears that you refused to release. With your head down you didn’t see the tall giant walking in the other direction until you ran smack into his chest and bounced off. You looked up to see the blonde curls and blue eyes staring down at you. Your eyes blinked in disbelief. It looked like Jamie Oleksiak. It felt exactly like how you would imagine running into his buff body at full speed would feel like. Yet your mind momentarily refused to accept that it WAS actually him.

“Watch out there,” he joked, “You’ll knock a guy over.”

You stared up at him, blinking slowly.

“Nice jersey,” he fingered your jersey lightly. “I don’t see many of those down here.”

“You’re….. You’re…. ,” you stammered.

“Jamie,” he took a step back. “Why are you over on this side? They usually keep it shut down for us to use when there isn’t a practice scheduled.”

Finally, you shook her head and cleared your head. “Sorry, I was over on the other ice at the drop-in. I came over here after the epic fail.” Your eyes betrayed you and released the tears that had been pent up.

“Hey, are you okay? Are you hurt?” he asked softly. “What’s wrong?”

"There is no crying in hockey, you should know that," you joked, trying to rein in your tears. You walked past him and wiped your tears. "Don't worry, I'll be fine."

He stood and waited patiently for you to turn around. When you did, he gave you a lopsided smile. 'Seriously, what is wrong? I heard you cussing like a true hockey player before you nearly knocked me on my ass."

"I don't think you would understand. You play in the NHL," you whined.

He kept his gaze on you and sat on the bench, "Try me."

You paced back and forth, "Don't laugh."

"Scout's honor," he replied.

"I got frustrated. I am out here trying to get better at my game and these guys are assholes for no reason. They take these three and four minute shifts. They hog the puck, will only pass to each other and push me around. I end up skating blue line to blue line for no fucking reason," you ramble.

"Have you tried being more aggressive? Challenging them?” he asked.

You turned to him and spit out, "Of course, I have tried being more aggressive and challenging them. I am not an idiot, but despite my size-they are bigger than me and can push me off the puck."

He put his hands up in defense, "Whoa, just a question. There are ways to defend against someone bigger than you. I could show you sometime."

“And who the fuck is bigger than you?” you looked at him warily, "and why would you do that?"

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93 notes - Posted January 29, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

See You Again- Tyler Seguin Stand Alone

Summary- When Addy meets Tyler through mutual friends, it's attraction at first sight. Tyler, however, cannot shake the sense of deja vu.

Word Count- 10.5K (sorry)

Warnings- alcohol use, public sex, SMUT, discussion of slut shaming

@fallinallincurls @newlibrary @penstxgal1968 @princessphilly @laurenairay @mattyseggy1991 @horsesandhockeyplayers

August 2022

Addy checked her reflection in the mirror and adjusted her top as she listened to her friend, Gina, go over the details for the evening. She was half-listening, as usual, when Gina mentioned that Tom may have a friend drop by the bar. "Wait, what?" she whined, "Gina, this isn't a set-up, right?"

"No, Addy, I swear-I don't even know the guy's name," Gina responded. "Show me what you're going to wear."

Addy sent the snap.

"No, absolutely not," Gina chided, "Let go of the athleisure wear. Wear a skirt at least."

Addy rolled her eyes, "I will compromise on a nice pair of shorts and crop top. It’s hotter than hell."

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128 notes - Posted April 19, 2022

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[estatedekho04]

Apartments for sale in Narsingi Hyderabad

Discovering 2 BHK, 3 BHK, and 4 BHK Apartments in Narsingi, Hyderabad: A Homebuyer’s Guide

Ah, Narsingi! The name might sound like something straight out of a Bollywood movie, but it's actually one of Hyderabad's hottest real estate markets. Nestled right next to the Financial District and the outer ring road, Narsingi is like that cool cousin who suddenly got rich overnight. If you're in the market for a new place, whether it's a cozy 2 BHK, a spacious 3 BHK, or a luxurious 4 BHK apartment in Narsingi, you're in for a treat.

But before we dive into the nitty-gritty, let's take a quick detour. Imagine Narsingi as a massive buffet, with apartments as different dishes. There’s something for everyone: from the health-conscious to those with a taste for luxury. Ready to find out which dish... um, apartment suits you best? Let’s dig in!

Why Narsingi? A Quick Look at the Locale

Narsingi is like the rising star of Hyderabad’s real estate. It has all the right ingredients: strategic location, connectivity, and infrastructure development. Imagine having a home where you can escape the city's hustle but still be close enough to dive into it when the need (or mood) arises. That’s Narsingi for you. Plus, the outer ring road is just around the corner, making commutes feel like a breeze. You can be at your workplace in no time, leaving you more moments to sip that extra cup of coffee in the morning.

Top Reasons to Choose Narsingi:

Proximity to IT Hubs: Just a hop, skip, and jump away from Gachibowli and HITEC City.

Infrastructure: Upcoming metro lines, wide roads, and everything you need to make life easy.

Serenity: Despite its growth, Narsingi still has that charm of a peaceful suburb.

Investment Potential: Property values are on the rise, so buying now could be a smart move.

2 BHK Apartments in Narsingi: Cozy Comforts for New Beginnings

Let's start with the classic choice 2 BHK apartments in Narsingi. Perfect for young couples, small families, or even singles who enjoy a bit of extra space. A 2 BHK is like that reliable friend who’s always there for you, offering the right balance of space, comfort, and affordability.

Key Features of 2 BHK Apartments in Narsingi:

Size and Layout: Generally ranging from 900 to 1200 square feet, these apartments offer two bedrooms, a living room, a kitchen, and typically two bathrooms.

Cost: Prices usually range between ₹60 lakhs to ₹1 crore, depending on the amenities and location within Narsingi.

Target Audience: Ideal for young professionals, newlyweds, or small families. It’s also a good option for retirees looking to downsize but still want to live comfortably.

Why Choose a 2 BHK in Narsingi?

Affordability: Compared to larger apartments, 2 BHK units are more budget-friendly. They offer just the right amount of space without burning a hole in your pocket.

Ease of Maintenance: Smaller space means less cleaning. Let’s be honest, nobody loves vacuuming all weekend.

Rental Income Potential: If you’re thinking of buying an apartment as an investment, 2 BHKs have a high rental demand, especially from young IT professionals.

3 BHK Apartments in Narsingi: Space for Growing Families

Next up, the 3 BHK apartments in Narsingi. If 2 BHKs are like a reliable sedan, 3 BHKs are the SUVs of the apartment world. Spacious, practical, and perfect for families that need that extra room. Got kids who need space to run around? Or maybe you're working from home and need an office? A 3 BHK has got you covered.

Key Features of 3 BHK Apartments in Narsingi:

Size and Layout: Typically ranging from 1300 to 1800 square feet, offering three bedrooms, a living room, kitchen, and two to three bathrooms.

Cost: Prices usually range from ₹1 crore to ₹1.5 crores, depending on the project and amenities.

Target Audience: Best suited for larger families, professionals with work-from-home needs, or anyone who enjoys hosting guests.

Why Opt for a 3 BHK in Narsingi?

Room for Growth: A 3 BHK provides ample space for a growing family. Kids get their own rooms, or you can have a guest room for visiting friends and family.

Flexible Living Space: More rooms mean more options. Set up a home office, a playroom for the kids, or even a mini gym.

Resale Value: 3 BHK apartments often have better resale value because they cater to a broader market segment.

4 BHK Apartments in Narsingi: The Lap of Luxury

Finally, we have the grand 4 BHK apartments in Narsingi. These are the penthouses of suburban living. If a 3 BHK is an SUV, then a 4 BHK is a luxury yacht. Spacious, opulent, and designed for those who believe in living life king-size.

Key Features of 4 BHK Apartments in Narsingi:

Size and Layout: Ranging from 2000 to 3000 square feet. They typically offer four bedrooms, a large living area, a spacious kitchen, and three to four bathrooms.

Cost: Prices can start from ₹1.5 crores and go upwards, depending on the location, view, and amenities.

Target Audience: Ideal for large families, executives, or those looking for luxurious living spaces with all modern amenities.

Why Go for a 4 BHK in Narsingi?

Luxury and Comfort: More rooms, more space, and a lifestyle that spells luxury. Ideal for those who enjoy the finer things in life.

Entertaining Guests: Perfect for hosting gatherings, with ample space for guests to stay over.

Prestige Factor: Let’s be honest, telling people you live in a 4 BHK has a certain ring to it. It’s like saying you drive a Tesla instant prestige!

Choosing the Right Apartment: A Quick Checklist

Before you pull out your checkbook (or open your bank app, because who uses checks these days?), here are some things to consider:

Location Matters

Proximity to Work: How close is it to your workplace? Narsingi’s advantage is its closeness to IT hubs, but make sure your apartment’s location is convenient for you.

Schools and Hospitals: Check out the nearest schools and healthcare facilities. Good education and healthcare options can significantly add to the property’s value.

Amenities Check

Basic Amenities: Ensure there’s 24/7 water supply, power backup, and security.

Lifestyle Amenities: Gyms, swimming pools, and parks can add significant value to your living experience. After all, who doesn’t like the idea of a morning swim or an evening jog without leaving the complex?

Budget Planning

Upfront Costs: Consider not just the price of the apartment but also registration fees, maintenance charges, and other hidden costs.

Home Loans and EMIs: Have a clear picture of your finances. How much loan can you get? What will the monthly EMIs look like? A little planning now can save a lot of stress later.

A Glimpse into the Future: The Growth Potential of Narsingi

Narsingi is not just about the present, it's also about the future. The area is rapidly developing, with new infrastructure projects in the pipeline. The upcoming metro expansion is set to make commuting even easier, and the development of new commercial spaces will bring in more employment opportunities.

What This Means for Homebuyers:

Appreciation in Property Value: Investing in Narsingi now means you’re likely to see good returns in the future.

Quality of Life: As more facilities and amenities come up, the quality of life in Narsingi will only improve. You’re looking at a lifestyle that’s modern, convenient, and fulfilling.

Final Thoughts: Making Narsingi Your Home

Choosing the right apartment can feel like a daunting task, but it’s all about finding a place that fits your needs, lifestyle, and budget. Whether it’s a 2 BHK that offers cozy comfort, a 3 BHK that provides ample space, or a 4 BHK that indulges in luxury, Narsingi has it all.

In the words of a wise (and possibly fictional) real estate guru, "A home is where the heart is, but a good home is where the WiFi connects automatically." So, take your time, explore your options, and find that perfect apartment in Narsingi. After all, it’s not just about buying a house, it's about finding a place to create memories, enjoy life, and maybe even host that housewarming party you’ve been dreaming of!

Visit estatedekho.com for more information about 2 BHK, 3 BHK, 4 BHK Apartments for Sale in Narsingi Hyderabad. Estatedekho is an online platform that offers sellers, potential clients, buyers verified plots, and professional agents at service.

[techtired]

Tesla Cybertruck: Excellent Engineering Restrained In 2024

Since Elon Musk smashed a glass in it on stage in 2019, it has been the most discussed automobile ever. The Tesla Cybertruck is the outstanding vehicle of the year. It does not mean that the car is the best one for 2024. Indeed, the "bulletproof" stainless steel Tesla pickup represents the most extreme manifestation of our split society of fear, and thanks to Musk's money, its creation was anything from typical. Still, you can now purchase an actual automobile with Bioweapon Defense Mode included. Regardless of what I say going forward, it's okay if you don't change your view about the Cybertruck. Driving turned out to be fun. Does that imply that everyone should have one or that I want one? Not regularly. I'll take care of it. As a technical showpiece, it is equally striking and distinctive and offers a fresh concept that might improve trucks and other commercial vehicles. How Does Tesla Cybertruck Work? The Cybertruck is the first to have a stainless steel body since the DeLorean DMC-12. Though its wedge-shaped body does not show a Tesla branding anywhere, you can easily distinguish it from other vehicles on the road. Four-wheel handling, a 123-kWh battery pack that can be employed, a six-foot bed four feet wide, and ground clearance of up to sixteen inches are features of all Cybertruks. Like all Teslas, The truck's controls are largely on a large 18.5-inch tablet in the middle and a 9.4-inch touchscreen in the rear. What I Felt While Driving? The standard model Cybertruck with two motors and all-wheel drive runs $79,990; the Cyberbeast with three motors runs $99,990. Tesla also specifies a rear-drive vehicle scheduled for production in 2025 on its website. For now, let's only discuss the AWD models you might be able to afford. I drove a twin-motor Foundation Series truck. It was a launch model with all-terrain tires, distinctive trim and logos, and a home charger operating in both directions. The Foundation Series is mainly there so that keen Cybertruck purchasers may bypass the queue for an additional $20,000. With two engines and an all-wheel drive, the Cybertruck can run from 0 to 60 mph in 4.1 seconds and has a 340-mile range. Conversely, the Cyberbeast runs for 2.6 seconds and forfeits 20 miles of range. In an eighth-mile drag race, you saw the Cyberbeast in Tesla's introduction film pulling another 911 while beating a Porsche 911. My Views On The Tesla Cybertruck's driving technique: The Cybertruck is steer-by-wire; hence, there is no mechanical link or steering column between the front wheels and the steering wheel. Instead, electronic motors turn all four wheels; the steering wheel has a rapidly adjustable ratio. In actual life, this transforms everything. Making 90- and 180-degree turns doesn't need you to cross your hands. Just move the steering wheel about 75 degrees for a right turn; turn the wheel around for a U-turn, roughly 120 degrees. To find out how far to spin the steering wheel, you need not move it or clasp your hands together. It makes turning simpler, and when coupled with the low center of gravity of the Cybertruck, it feels far more flexible than it is. Understanding The Design Is Important It's hard to talk about the Cybertruck if you don't mention how it looks. The Tesla truck's doorstop shape hasn't changed much since it was first shown in 2019. This is during a time when concept cars don't often make it to production, and auto design directors complain about "jelly bean" EVs. Everything else has changed, but I'm getting off track. As you drive, cell phones appear all over the place. Men point and gently poke their partners. In bed, women blink and poke their partners. Dogs shake with fear. Okay, not that last one. You must be comfortable being the center of attention when driving a Cybertruck. I never got the hang of it, maybe because I was shy in high school. Still, this kind of care was fair and suitable for everyone. More than anyone else, buyers liked the truck the most. I thought they would laugh. Even though the Cybertruck looks cold, you should be very nice if you own one. They look appealing alone, mainly from the side and three-quarter perspectives. Nothing is too much bother; a car looking like an eight-year-old's future sketch is appealing. From straight on, the front and rear seem a little weighty. Practically, Cybertruck's stainless steel construction is a fingerprint magnet, which already presents a challenge for its owners. One day of driving was all it took to get the trunk, doors, and rear view filthy. You'll get used to having others see your unclean refrigerator, or you'll have microfiber towels and spray cleaner with you every time you visit. Points to the first person who places an alphabet magnet on it. Points To Remember! Problems arise not only from the unusual form of the Cybertruck. Discerning massive sail panels, a small rear window, a giant console, and tall A-pillars up front is challenging. To view the camera feed in the rearview mirror—a shockingly cheap addition—you must take your eyes off the road and down at the dash tablet. If you signal to change lanes, it disappears and is replaced with a camera searching for blind areas. You won't be able to, so another vehicle will probably keep far away as they can see this object approaching from a mile away. Additionally, it is challenging to load goods from the sides into the bed because the large side slabs provide the truck with their wedge-like form. Rivals of Tesla Cybertruck Although most Cybertruck customers might not do extensive cross-shopping, it's interesting how it ranks versus other electric trucks in its class—the GMC Hummer EV, Rivian R1T, and Ford F-150 Lightning. Though blocky and refrigerator-like, the Cybertruck is among this class's smaller vehicles. The high-performance "Cyberbeast" tops the scales at 6,843 pounds; the dual-motor variant weighs 6,603 pounds. Though heavier than the 6,015-pound Ford F-150 Lightning, the Cybertruck is over a ton lighter than the 9,063-pound Hummer EV, several hundred pounds lighter than the 7,148-pound Rivian R1T. Though smaller than the substantial 212-kWh pack of the Hummer, the 123-kWh battery pack is comparable to the extended-range batteries Ford and Rivian employ. With an 18-inch larger bed extending six feet in length, the Cybertruck is six inches longer than the Rivian. It is three inches narrower, though, which makes loading from any direction save the rear more challenging. Price Comparison with Rivals At $79,990, the all-wheel-drive Cybertruck fits Rivian's Dual-Motor AWD R1T with its big 135-kWh battery pack. Performance is similar, and the Cybertruck provides a similar range of 340 miles as opposed to the R1T's EPA estimates. Still, buying a Cybertruck for the posted price could prove challenging. The Cybertruck is positioned in the Foundation Series alongside the Max-pack Performance R1T from Rivian, which boasts 410 miles of range. Though a range-extending battery will be available for the Cybertruck, it is projected to occupy a third of the truck bed and cost $16,000. With the extended range pack, which gives 320 miles, the Ford F-150 Lightning Lariat level starts at $77,495. In terms of specs, this closely corresponds with the Cybertruck AWD. Value for money favors Ford and Rivian until the Cybertruck enters mass production. Closing Notes Although the Tesla Cybertruck is a remarkable electric car, its unusual design and current price approach slightly compromise it. Though the innovation behind the Cybertruck is creative—particularly about its steering system—the design restrictions and price range have confined it to being more of a novelty than a helpful tool like its competitors. Driven and maneuvered like a significantly smaller vehicle, this three-ton truck is Although there is always potential for development, the present performance of the Cybertruck begs questions about how much better—or worse—it could have been. I can't picture myself buying a Cybertruck for now; if you are still reading this instead of sharing the most recent Elon Musk updates, you might not. But if Cybertruck's technology points to the future, what follows will surely be worth seeing. Let me say, trust me. Read the full article

[rvtravellife]

The Complete RV Set Up Checklist: Over 60 Items Essential to Consider

by Paige Breedon Preparing for your first RV venture into the great outdoors? Check out our list of must-know items..... Why You Need an RV Set Up Checklist You are preparing for your venture into the great outdoors in your travel trailer or motor home, but you're trying to figure out what to bring. It's important to bring essentials and creature comforts. But an RV has limited space, and you'll find that you'll be forced to make trade-offs. That 60-inch big-screen TV may be great at home, but you'll be cursing when climbing over it to get to the bed in your RV. We've put together some ideas on this RV camping checklist that are essential items you should consider including to get your RV set up before heading out. You want to make sure you have a great camping experience! The worst thing is when you forget that essential item. Take our suggestions as a baseline; you won’t have to worry about missing anything important. This will help you feel secure and prepared to take on any camping adventure. RV Outdoor Patio Setup an RV has limited space, and you'll find that you'll be forced to make trade offs. Gearing Up: Introduction to RV Life What is an RV? An RV, or Recreational Vehicle, is a motor vehicle or trailer that includes living quarters designed for accommodation. Types of RVs include motorhomes, caravans, campervans, fifth-wheel trailers, popup campers, and truck campers. These vehicles provide the freedom and flexibility to travel wherever you want while bringing along the comforts of home. But they all come with size limitations because they have to be portable by nature, they are width-restricted by the size of road lanes, and length and height are restricted by traffic laws. This means your space is limited to about 8 feet wide by a maximum of 40-45 feet long by at most 8 feet high. So, at best, you have about 2600 cubic feet to store everything you need to live, travel, and have fun. That sounds like a lot, but deduct space for furniture, cabinetry, and moving around, and it gets small fast. Also, care must be taken to ensure that you don't overload the trailer or motorhome's weight-carrying capacity. You can add additional storage space that might be available in your tow vehicle or towed vehicle, but you will still have much less space than in the average house to work with. This is why it's important to organize the items you are going to take with an RV set up checklist. Why Hit the Road in an RV? Traveling in an RV motorhome or travel trailer allows you to embark on adventures at your own pace. You can enjoy scenic routes, stop at interesting points along the way, and stay overnight in beautiful locations. Moreover, an RV offers the comforts of home, including sleeping areas, a kitchen, and a bathroom. This makes traveling more convenient and less stressful, especially for long trips. But you must have the right equipment and accessories for every situation and eventuality. So putting some thought into the individual items you will take is an important step to take to be sure you have absolutely everything you need......but nothing more. An RV set up checklist will help you do that. RV Set up Checklist: Everything You Need. Setting up your RV involves several steps, from choosing a site to hooking up utilities. Here's a detailed RV camping checklist to help guide you through the process. Inside Your RV Essential Kitchen Supplies for Delicious Meals on the Go An RV kitchen should have all the essentials needed to prepare meals. This includes pots and pans, utensils, plates, and glasses. Additionally, consider bringing a cooler or refrigerator to keep perishable foods fresh. And don't forget about basic kitchen supplies like aluminum foil, plastic wrap, and storage containers. An RV kitchen should have all the essentials needed to prepare meals. Next, let's consider some major RV appliances that may be of great use to you by making preparing meals more convenient. Your RV likely has one or more of these installed already. RV coffee makers can be a very convenient way to brew a delicious cup of coffee to start off your day. Consider a kettle to make French press coffee or other delicious beverages like a warm cup of tea. Microwaves are also helpful appliances for heating up food or drinks. You can also get convection microwaves that double as an oven, allowing you to bake or roast food. If you are opting for a cold drink, which is often the case in summer months, having an RV ice maker can also be a great appliance to make ice conveniently without having to use messy and inefficient trays. It will pay for itself very quickly if you are used to paying for bagged ice on your RV camping trips. RV ranges and cooktops are also great if you want to make more complicated, homemade meals. Full-sized RV refrigerators keep food, ingredients, and condiments fresh! A real luxury is having something to clean the dishes with so you can relax by the campfire. That's where RV dishwashers come in handy..... Read More... Read the full article

[olympic-paris]

STORY: Big Sarge

I just loved nights like this, warm and sultry, no work the following day to get up for, feeling on top of the world, fit and randy with just enough alcohol to take the fetters off. As I rode my bike a couple of towns away to my intended rest stop I revelled in the feel of the wind over my legs and slightly up my shorts, also flowing over my chest through the half done zip on my jacket. Feeling the weight of heavy chain around my neck balanced by the leather straps round my cock and balls just waiting to be joined by the wrist and ankle restraints kept my mind and my cock well occupied for the hour it took me to cover the odd 60 miles.

When I pulled of the road into the dirty sandy parking area I could see my luck was probably in.

Three artic lorries probably putting up for the night and several cars came into immediate view under the moonlight as I switched off my engine and heads, coasting over to the trees by the rest room to park up myself. I knew my body was slightly on display in the shadows as I removed my jacket and old boots, placing them in a pannier and taking out the leather restraints. Taking my time to fit them, ankles, wrists, upper arm, I made sure anyone watching got glimpses of various parts of my body being twisted and flexed in order to fit the straps. Finally passing another leather belt around my waist I stood up and moved slowly toward the restroom.

I just knew there were eyes on my body as it strolled in and out of the shadows and heard at least a couple of vehicle doors open and close during my journey. As I got closer it could be seen the lights were out, or more probably broken but that was no matter as I knew sufficient light came through the dirty skylights to see what might be happening without being bright enough to see any faults with the bodies I anticipated making use of mine shortly.

It was the smell that did it, that mixture of damp cement mixed with piss and sex, the minute I walked through the door my erection hardened to an extent that was painful. It would have been painful even if my cock and balls had not been strapped up. As it was the sudden increase in constriction had me gasp and come to a stop. I didn't even notice for a moment the floor was wet and slightly muddy from the evening showers under my bare feet, or that there were already a few men standing at the urinal.

I can't claim I was the best-looking guy in there but knew I looked quite good, especially dressed as I was. I felt myself to be on display and of course that was the general idea, it fucked with my brain to know other men were looking at my near naked body with only one thing on their minds. Sex.

Hopefully some of them would be happy to use my body to get their rocks off. I'm 24, nearly six foot with a slim, reasonable body and mousy blond hair, no body hair as what little I do have is shaved each weekend. Making my way toward the urinal which consisted of a wide flush trough a couple of the present occupants moved to one side as I turned round and crouched down with my back to the cool piss soaked tiles.

In a moment there was a short fat cock being waved around in front of my face, 'You want my piss boy?'

'Yes Please Sir.' As you can see I was brought up to be polite.

He wasn't the only one as within a moment there were two streams of piss playing over my face, body and open mouth, soaking my hair and running down to re-soak my shorts that hadn't been washed now for several visits here.

'That's a real pig boy we got here.' 'Yeah! Seen him before. He's real good.' 'That's filthy.' I didn't hear whomever that was leaving in a hurry. 'He'll be filthier before we leave.' All that sort of talk was getting to me, helping to separate my mind from my body, sending it to that place where it would float, looking down on my abused body with a sense of wonder and satisfaction. It would take a while yet and a fair bit of action but I could feel something good was going to happen.

'Get up!' A hand slapped my face lightly and then yanking bon my hair half pulled me erect. 'Drop those shorts boy. You wont be needing them for a while.' All I had to do was unfasten my belt and wriggle my hips for the weight of the soaking shorts dropped them down to my ankles into the piss filled trough. 'Step right out of them now, they can stay down there and get nice and dirty for you to ride home in.' I didn't recognise either the black face or the voice but either he'd been here and seen me used before or was a natural.

'Yes Sir!'

'You wont be needing this either but I will,' as he reached forward and removed the spare leather belt still laying loosely round my waist. 'I will need it wont I boy?' When I took a moment to reply his hand came up and backslapped my face left and right, 'Answer me.'

'Of course you will Sir. Its for your enjoyment.'

'That's better boy. Stand out here where everyone can see you better. You got any weights for those balls?'

'Yes Sir! In my shorts.'

'Don't fuck me around then. Get down there and fish them out.'

As I knelt to feel for my shorts laying in the half flooded trough my belt landed across my backside with a crack. 'Get a move on boy!' It landed again, this time with enough force to jerk my body forward where my lowered head came in contact with the trough and I surfaced gasping and spluttering from being half drowned with a mixture of piss and whatever else had been falling in that trough this evening.

'Can't get enough eh? Have to see if we can give you the rest later on. The stalls stink enough to be full.' Oh No! That was seldom my scene. This night may be going too far.

Even so, I stood up, holding a couple of weights hanging on short chains in one hand and a pair of nipple clamps in the other which I held out toward him only to receive another couple of backhanders that half stunned me for a moment.

'I don't want them stupid boy. They're for you. Put the clamps on, quick now.'

I couldn't help but gasp as I clamped them on my nipples and adjusted the side screws to increase the tension. My nipples had not been touched for several days and were not really ready for this sort of abuse. 'Hurts I hope?' he asked.

'Yes thank you Sir,' I replied.

'Good. Your stomach as fit as it looks?

''I think so Sir.'

'Clench it then boy. I'm going to find out,' and he swung a fist lightly at me. I couldn't help but flinch as his fist just lightly grazed me.

'I never told you to move boy. That needs punishment. Get down on the floor and clean my boots.'

I wasn't quick enough for him and the belt landed a couple of times across my shoulders before I knelt down and lowered my head to his black leather half boots.

'Get flat on the floor. Lay your slave body flat in all that mud and piss and cum so these people can see just what your body is here for.' I lay down flat as instructed, feeling all the muck he mentioned squish under me. He raised one foot and placed it on my head, increasing the pressure until my face lay flat sidewise down and I could see his other boot just in front of my mouth. 'Start licking boy.'

I stuck my tongue out and found it would just reach his boot which I started to lick and clean as far as my position would allow.

I half heard comments from the crowd now filling the restroom and watching my abuse. 'Gross! 'I wouldn't do that' 'Id fuck that are though' 'Wonder what his mouth is like.' Wouldn't mind working that body over.' All sorts of things like that.

'You cant do a good job like that boy. Turn over.' He removed his foot from my head and I turned over onto my back looking straight up at a crowded ring of faces. 'Open your legs,' this accompanied by a kick to my waist.

'His foot was pressing on my balls. Squashing them against the floor. 'Is that good boy? Can you feel it.'

'Yes Sir,' I just about manage to gasp out between moans, 'Thank you.'

He lifted his foot and rested it on my stomach. 'What were we saying about your tum? Is it as strong as it looks?' applying more weight. I was gasping, my body attempting to wriggle around and away from the pressure but to no avail. I knew my eyes were watering and could feel my face getting hot. The pressure eased. 'What will you do if I take my foot off boy?

'Anything you say Sir.'

'Anything?'

'Whatever will please you Sir. Its what I'm here for. For you.'

He'd hardly used the belt on me and not with any great force but I was already starting to fly.

Sense and sensibility had flown out of the dirty skylight.

Chapter Two

'Get up on your knees lad and open that mouth of yours.'

My whole body was dripping wet and filthy from the mess on the floor but I knelt there as instructed with my head bowed down until he grabbed hold of it by the hair and wrenching it upright continued, 'Just look at these man cocks here. You will crawl up to each one and beg to suck it.' When I didn't respond at once he slapped my head with his other hand and half dragged me forward to what looked like eight inches of fully erect manhood being rapidly given a hand job.

'Don't waste your energy man. Use this cum boys' mouth to take care of your wants. He's begging for it, aren't you boy?'

'Yes Sir. Please may I suck your cock Sir? Cum in or over me Sir.'

That cock I could only see out of the corner of my eyes now was placed carefully just inside my mouth and then as its owner got a little bolder slowly further and deeper until it came up against the back of my throat causing me to gag slightly. I could sense it was about to be withdrawn even though I closed my lips tightly round it but heard the man say, 'Here. Grab hold of his hair and bend his head back so you drop down easier.'

That was easy for him to say. It was my hair and my throat being attacked. The floor was hard and that cock was reacting just as it should, violating my mouth and throat, pulling in and out over my clamped lips. He was pulling my hair so hard and so far backwards I required every little brain cell still working to gasp enough oxygen through my leaking nose to remain conscious. My body felt several streams of cum and piss land on it, probably being orchestrated by the man who started to abuse me. It was fantastic.

Bang. Bang. My hair was gripped even tighter and my face and his groin crashed into each other as his cock started shooting cum; cum; cum; down my throat and filling my mouth when I was unable to swallow fast enough.

Finally his spasms finished and he pulled out, remnants of his cum leaking from my mouth and down my chin. My original tormenters denim clad groin reappeared before me. I knew it was him because the first thing he did was backhand me across the face, left and right, 'I didn't hear you thank the nice man,' and he backhanded me again.

'Thank you for allowing me to milk your cock sir.'

'That's better. Did you like it boy?'

'No Sir. This boy is here to serve, not to enjoy.'

That was one hell of a lie. I'd enjoyed every single aspect of my abuse and degradation; all my body wanted now was more of the same. It was what my body needed. What it was crying out for deep inside where that other part of me lived, the part that could fly, could separate and look down on its host being hurt. I wanted to revel in the pain and humiliation.

'Anyone else want this lads mouth at the moment?' I couldn't have argued as he'd grasped hold of my hair again and had one boot pressing against my groin, not hard but enough to know I'd get hurt if I tried to move. There were no immediate acceptances but someone said, 'No, but I'd sure like to piss over him while someone beats his arse. Dirty boys like him need to be punished don't they?'

'You hear that?' asked the man holding my hair, 'You'd better get back down flat on the floor so I can give the man what he wants.'

As usual I hesitated a moment only to receive a couple of slashes across my back with the leather belt. 'Get down there boy.'

Why do I hesitate? Is it because I need to be forced, or because I'm just a glutton for punishment? Bits of both I think but I'm sure to some extent its because that part of me starting to disengage with the rest of my body takes time to transmit information back and forth. Whatever, the strokes across my back were no love taps and I cried out, even while doing as told and laying my body flat, face down on the dirty wet floor.

Leather booted feet appeared either side of my head, 'Head up, look forward,' and they shuffled claming my head between them with the toes pushing at my shoulders. 'Wrap your arms round my ankles boy. You better hold on tight as this is going to hurt.' I obeyed quickly this time, pulling my body forward to my shoulders were resting on the toes of his boots, my head trapped firmly now between his ankles and wrapped my arms tightly behind his legs.

'Who wants the belt then.'

Someone took it as shortly I felt some love taps fall across my unprotected backside. 'Don't pussyfoot about.

Whop that arse hard, that's what you want isn't it boy?

'If it pleases you sir.'

I don't know if someone else took control of the belt but the next blow landed with much more force. Crack!

Crack! A slight pause and I just started to breath again when, Crack! Crack! Crack!

I yelled. You would have done.

'Go on. Beat him again. Make him cry. Punish him. Belt him.'

All around sounded as if they were getting off and I was definitely aware of piss streams falling on my poor abused body. It seemed that as soon as one finished another took its place. Whoever had control of the belt didn't hold back any more either. Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!

My body was jerking and writhing around on the wet slimy floor and I held on to the legs trapping my head even tighter. My eyes were streaming, I was calling out for it to 'Stop, Please stop. I'll do anything you want.

Don't hit me any more. Please. Please.'

The beating finished.

I just collapsed, as far as was possible, gasping for breath with my eyes and nose streaming, I was still moaning when I had breath to spare. My front felt nearly as sore from the writhing about on the floor, but I still held tightly to the legs trapping my head.

'God that a red backside,' I heard, then felt someone's boot being placed on it and twisted across my cheeks causing me to cry out 'No', again.

'Yeah,' came from someone else, 'Don't think it could take much more. Pity, It was good the way he cried and squirmed. I could use a boy like that any day.'

'There's still his back. That's still nice and white. You'd like us to whip your back boy wouldn't you?'

'Oh please sir. Whip boy all you want sir. Enjoy hurting me Sir's.'

'Are you sure?' someone asked. 'Should we really be doing this to him. It must hurt.'

'I'm supposed to be hurt Sir. Its what this boy is for, what he's worth. I'll get punished later but right now he should be whipped.'

Ohoops! That was letting the cat out of the bag slightly but I don't think anyone really caught on being too busy jacking off over my dirty red arsed body.

It was only the feet trapping my head squeezing slightly tighter, if that was possible, that gave me any warning. Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack! On and on, sometimes quickly following, sometimes with a pause. I was yelling and throwing my body about risking damage from my contortions and contact with the floor. 'Stop!

Stop! More! Flog me! Help! Don't! Go on!'

There were two quite separate persons now it seemed. One pleading for the torture to cease and the other encouraging even more and more abuse. I was yelling and crying and flying and floating. I didn't know where I was or who I was and I didn't care. I just wanted it to stop. I wanted it to continue. To go on forever.

All of a sudden the beam of a powerful torch flooded the restroom and everything stopped and all went silent.

'Well now. And just what is going on here in one of the Republics dirtiest restrooms?'

'Just a boy needing a little chastisement Sarge,' came from the man still trapping my head.

'Looks like he's been well chastised from here. Everyone finished with him, I'll have to take him back to the station to sort things out.'

'How long have I got Sarge?' asked the boots trapping my head.

'Fifteen long enough?' came the reply.

'Will be, I nearly shot twice already.

Can I take him outside where we can see better. I want to rape his sorry red arse.'

Reaching down he grabbed the chain round my neck and jerked me upright, 'That's right ain't bit boy? Your arse just waiting for my hot cock to rape it?'

I had no need to answer as he pulled my wet, dirty naked body along behind him, past the suddenly sheepish grins and downcast heads of the audience who'd only a few moments before been encouraging the abuse of my body.

'That's alright fellows,' the Sarge reassured them, 'Boy like this only fit for one thing and I can see you attended to that. I've got no problems with you, nothing illegal with what you been up to. Just this boy arrested for being naked in a public place.'

By this time I'd been led/dragged outside under the moonlight and over to a picnic table where my body was roughly flung down lengthwise.

'Grab hold the other end boy and open your legs. I'm going to stick my rod up your arse and fuck the life out of you.'

Chapter Three

I was shivering slightly, it wasn't cold and I wasn't really apprehensive now. It was more a shiver of anticipation but he obviously thought otherwise, or made out he did. 'Cant have you cold boy,lets get you warmed up then. Red arse always better anyway,' and with that he started slapping my arse with his big hand, first one cheek and then the other, slap, slap, slap, slap. It wasn't so much the pain, I've had a belt across there often enough to know what pain is, more the surprise that had my backside moving away from his hand, 'though I still had my hands gripping the other side. 'Stay still boy,' and he reached under me and grabbed my balls, pulling them down so any movement became agony when he'd squeeze tighter. Finding my body now immobile he really laid into my backside this time and if I'd thought before that a hand couldn't cause pain I discovered myself to be mistaken. Shortly I could feel my cheeks burning and my body writhing on the table trapped by the grip and pull at my balls. A hand could hurt as much as a belt. My mouth was emitting groans and my eyes were streaming.

'That's better. I do like a boy in pain. Here we go then.' His hands griped my waist raising it slightly and in he plunged. No teasing the lips of my hole, no slow steady entrance, just Wham! Straight through my tight arse lips and on up into my gut. My groans turned to a series of light shrieks when, having forced an entrance, he immediately turned to fucking my arse as hard as possible. His hands left my waist and made their way easily to my erect nipples as my body was arched from the table in protest at his invasion. He pinched and twisted them, 'Hope that hurts boy. Do you like pain? I can give you pain.' His nails were digging in the tips of my nipples sending jagged streaks of pain across my pecs, I could only twist my head back and forth, moaning and crying, gripping hard at the table edge. 'Oh I'd enjoy putting you through it boy,' he continued, 'If you think this is pain just come and visit me sometime.'

With that last comment he grabbed my body so tightly my hands lost their grasp on the table edge and we stood up momentarily, his cock firmly entrenched up my arse before being forcibly slammed back down on the table as he lost control and shot heavily shot after shot of hot cum deep inside me. It felt like a six-shooter had gone off on automatic, bang, bang, bang. For a moment he lay over me as his cock softened and slowly withdrew from my arse, 'I'd like you to come and visit me if you think you can take it boy.' He whispered in my ear just before he raised his weight from my back. A quick slap on my sore arse, 'Thanks anyway, take care.' And he was gone.

'You just stay there for a moment boy,' said the Sergeant as he walked back toward the restroom carrying a plastic bag. I took no real notice that my assailant accompanied him being too exhausted right then to take anything in. After a while the Sarge returned on his own showing me the bag contained my filthy soaking shorts and nipple clamps. 'Take those weights and straps off and drop them in here as well boy,' pointing at the weights still hanging from my cock. I removed that strap carefully, the wet leather had been shrinking as it dried and my cock and balls had become very tender. 'You dried off yet?' he continued, 'Go get on your bike then. You can fit your boots but you won't need anything else, these shorts too wet. Can't have you catching a cold now. You know where the station is don't you. So just ride your bike in front of me and I'll follow you there, don't think of trying to escape, my bikes faster than yours.'

I had no intention of trying to escape but the thought of riding my bike through the dark night naked apart from some short boots caused a fluttering in my stomach that was nothing to do with the filth I'd swallowed earlier. On the one hand I loved my body being open to the elements and had dreamed of having a spin naked, but then it was illegal, but then again I was being escorted by the local officer, and then again people might see me and they wouldn't be interested in the same way the fellows at the rest stop had been. 'Fire it up boy,' I had no choice.

It was the strangest feeling, riding through the early morning moonlight stark naked, my engine throbbing between my thighs, the beam of my headlamp clearing the road before me and the beam from my escort revealing every aspect of my body to any passing stranger. And there were a few of those. A couple of trucks passing the other way did a double take judging by the way their engines spluttered and one swung round and doubled back, pulling along side the Sarge for a quick word.

Next I knew Sarge was flashing his light and in my mirror I saw him sign me to pull over. I saw was a narrow turning into the woods a short way ahead and signed to turn off. The pickup followed and Sarge parked up by the roadside, which should discourage any uninvited guests. Two men got out of the pickup and I could almost see the drool running down their chins, as they looked me over. I say men but really not much more than old boys, say late teens, both wearing boots, dirty torn jeans and dirty T's. The sign of light stubble on their faces and the sawdust in their cropped hair and clothes showed me they'd just finished the night shift up the wood mill.

'These two boys tell me if I'll let them have a go with you I'll find enough treated lumber in my front yard to build the deck I've been after, Seems like a good proposition to me, not really time to take you down the station now boy.'

What choice did I have? One of the lads called me to come over and I walked toward them, my balls swaying between my legs and my erect prick breaking the air before me. I've no control over that part of my anatomy, if has a mind of its own, what can I do about it?

'See you ready boy,' said number one as he pulled his T over his head, 'And you already dirty so get down there on your knees and get my cock out.' I knelt on the muddy track and reached up to undo his belt and unzip the oil soaked cloth, which exposed a filthy smelly jock. 'Yeah! Gets a bit whiffy down there after a hard nights work, you get your mouth working there boy, suck my jock clean before I let at the real thing.'

Just in case I was having second thoughts he reached out as I knelt in the muddy track and pulled my head into his sweat and piss stinky crutch. Under the damp dirty jock I could see the outline of his thick cock laying from his balls to my right and already twitching in anticipation of my services. When I wet my mouth and sucked started to play that cock like a mouthorgan through his jock the vile taste of several days, if not weeks, stale sweat, piss dribbles and god knows what else swamped my mouth and my taste buds. No way could this boy be classified as the cleanest man around.

I gagged and tried unsuccessfully to pull back. 'No way boy. What you start you have to finish. That's what my old man always tells me so don't make him out to be a liar.' With that his changed his grip from holding the back of my head to gripping my hair so ant movement now tore at my roots, 'Go on now, you suck away and save me having to wash them and maybe, just maybe, I'll let you pull them down and get your sweet lips round my snake.'

His jock was rank and all I could do was work on his cock in the hope he'd soon want something a little more direct. Meanwhile, his companion had been getting himself in the mood and somewhat to my relief I heard, 'Come on Joe, I've not got all morning to muck about and this here is wanting to blow soon. Anyway, you know how Mother gets riled if we don't get home before she leaves. Let me fuck that mouth for a bit if you don't want to.'

My hair was released and the body standing before me replaced by number two. This was a different kettle of fish. Already jeans and jock dropped to boots and shirt removed with a good six or seven inch uncut member standing proud and ready with a pair of nicely rounded balls puckering up underneath. I rather enjoyed the view for a moment but returning to my situation slid forward and engulfed him straight down, twisting my head at just the right moment allowed him full access without causing me to gag. I knew that it was the earlier workout my mouth had suffered that eased his entrance and his remark earlier about his father's homily brought one of my mothers to mind, every cloud has a silver lining. Thinking that almost caused me to gag after all, this time though from laughter.

He rally was getting ready to blow soon, but that wasn't really a surprise as appearing to be only a couple of years older than myself and I seemed ready and willing at the drop of a hat, several times a day. 'God, he's good,' came a breathless voice, better than that slut in the wages office, or that fellow we met at the truck stop. This one really knows how to service a cock, almost convince enough to turn me gay if I'd get service like this every time.'

He was thrusting away by now, in and out of my clenched lips and slightly upturned face, with just a light hand resting on my head. We were both dancing to the same tune. I kept getting flashes of his washboard stomach with just a light sprinkling of almost downy hair round he cute little belly button each time he pulled back and from the corner of my eye saw his brother had now also striped down and beating his meat furiously.

I will admit to an enjoyment of my position, also of the cock I was servicing and brought my hands up to fondle and pull lightly on his matched set of balls causing an outbreak of swearing, especially when I slowed my head and allowed my teeth to lightly nibble toward the end of his cock. His reactions to my services were too much for his brother who calling out, 'Yes, Yes, Yes,' and other things I didn't catch, was suddenly shooting streams of cum over my face and his brothers stomach.

'Hell Jo!' he said, you've cum everywhere, I'm soaked with it.'

Well, wouldn't be the first time bro, just get your boy there to lick it off when you've done.'

That was enough for my other young assailant as placing both hands on my head to hold it steady three rapid face fucks had him repeating his brother and shooting his load, in this case, straight down my throat at first and then as he slowed, filling my mouth. I'm not ageist, couldn't afford to be the way I like cock, but, there is something about a young cock and it contents, both in texture and in taste that just hits the right spot.

In other circumstances I'd happily serviced that stud for the rest of the day but duty called. When I'd fully finished milking him and he pulled out saying with a laugh, 'you can't take it home,' I raised my head and started licking his brothers cum from his stomach.

'Just look at that,' the brother said, 'I bet he'd take our piss as well if Sarge told him to.'

'You haven't got time,' Sarge came back with, 'get him up and face down over your pickup hood, I'm going to have the boys arse.'

'Hell Sarge' said number 2, 'You'll never get that up without killing him. I never knew you were that huge.'

'That's why you two will have to hold his arms either side so he cant get away. Then you can piss over him after.'

That last convinced them, they wanted to piss over me I suppose, anyway, my arms were quickly grabbed and my body flung over the still warm hood of their pickup and one brother stood either side holding my outstretched arm. I heard Sarge spit and spit again to lube his cock and felt him stick a finger up my arse to see if any natural lubrication remained from my recent fucking. Even though it had been a while I could feel a small residue of arse slime and cum leak out as his fingers checked and removing them to wipe over my back he said, 'That will have to do,' and rapidly forced an entry.

My body took off and would have gone into orbit if not for being restrained by the brothers. It didn't take off for joy but in shock and an attempt to escape the abuse. He was huge. I was too shocked to scream, my feet actually left the ground which in retrospect made things worse, being unable to actual levitate my body had to return and in so doing became more firmly impaled on his monster. Sarge was long enough to be fun but it was his width that caused me such anguish. Even though I'd been so thoroughly fucked earlier this was splitting me apart.

'Get it out! Get it out!' I was yelling. The boys keeping tight hold of my outstretched wrists were grinning and laughing to Sarge to 'Rape him! Fuck him!' and the Sarge just told me to 'Hold on boy. Here we go.'

Fuck! Here we did go, well he did anyway. I was unlikely to be going anywhere for a bit, spread-eagled over the pickups hood under the early morning sun starting to percolate through the branches. Sarge got going though, in my arse. Humping and fucking, stretching my hole. There being solid metal under my stomach forcing the air from my lungs with every painful thrust. I'd never get to enjoy being fucked by a cock as broad as his but actually my body was responding because I felt my cock attempt to stand proud under me, which actually made mattes worse seeing as it was trapped under my stomach and was also being squeezed painfully.

His hands reached up to grab my head and was lightly slamming it up and down on the hard metal as he unloaded in my arse, thoroughly re-filling the abused area to the brim and, even being still plugged by his half-hard member, leaking and running down my legs. 'That's how to make use of a boy like this,' the Sarge remarked, 'But, if I ever hear of you two using a girl, or boy, like it I'll be down on you like a ton of bricks. I just knew this one was ready for it. Weren't you boy?'

Pulling out he reached down and catching a handful of the mess escaping from my wide-open hole reached up and wiped it over my face and mouth. 'Oh yes! You were ready,' slathering another handful over my erect cock and bruised balls on display as he pulled me upright. 'Oh well. You better get down on your back so these boys can heave a piss before they get of home hadn't you?' Pushing me reasonably gently till I ended laying on the muddy track, face up, legs bent and wide apart, my aching cock waving in the breeze.

Sarge stood between my legs and after a moment his massively thick member unloaded a hosepipe of piss over my raised legs, cock, balls and stomach. 'Go on boys, you can heave the other end. Make him open his mouth and swallow.'

As first one, and then two thin streams of piss started to play over my closed eyes and chest one asked, How do we do that Sarge?'

'Like this,' and I felt a heavy thick boot placed over my privates and start slowly to press and grind. Of course I opened my mouth, there were now threes streams of piss playing over me and even as my mouth filled the boot increased pressure, squeezing my frustrated bits and pieces and I came. Oh yes! I shot, and shot, and shot. Everywhere. Even through the dying piss streams I could feel it land over my face and chest and still the boot continued to twist and still I continued to shoot.

Finally, thank God, every thing came to an end. My filthy soaking body was too exhausted to move and just lay on the muddy track as I heard Sarge tell the lads to get off home and return, dropping my still wet shorts across my crotch. 'Get yourself dressed boy and off home before someone finds you here and arrests you for indecency,' he said with a grin, 'That was one of the best yet. What will do now next time you decide you have to visit a rest stop to play?'

'I'll text you time and place of course Sarge. Don't I always.'

'You do boy. By the way, I've stuck a card on your handlebars from that coloured gent who had your arse earlier. He says to text your mobile number if you want. I know him slightly and he's quite safe, bit more advanced than you. Has to be your decision. Got to go. You OK?'

I nodded. Quite frankly I was so psyched I'd almost be ready for another session but still had a sixty mile ride home in my filthy state and had to get going.

I found the card Sarge mentioned when putting my T and jacket on. On one side a mobile number, on the other four words in a rough print.

I'LL HURT YOU BOY

Chapter Four

There was something about that card and its terse message that hit a cord somewhere I hadn't known existed. I almost threw it away and then when I finally got home, washed up and recovered, found myself searching frantically for it, finally texting my mobile number before falling into a deep sleep where I dreamed of Darth Vader calling out, 'Come here boy and sit on this.'' Problem was with the lousy lighting and his black costume I just couldn't make out what I had to sit on.

Nothing happened for the rest of that week and I'd almost decided it had been a wind up when I got a text message, 'when are you free for two nights boy?' I replied, 'not for two weeks. Friday pm to Sunday pm.' Did I really want to follow this up, I almost sent a follow up to cancel the last when I received, 'You will call me Sir boy. It's the least of what you'll be calling me in two weeks.'

Well. I could always back out later, say I was ill or something, and this texting might be fun. There continued over the next week a series of texts during which he uncovered my place and hours of work, that I lived alone, that I was not really that experienced just always randy and a whole load of other stuff I never realised I let out. When the second week started his texts changed. Now he was telling me what to do, just little things like stick a plug up my arse and a strap round my cock, and then take the rubbish out in a pair of skimpy running shorts.

I obeyed the first but wore my usual shorts to discover a text waiting the moment I walked back through my door, 'I said your running shorts boy.' Followed by, 'If you can't do a simple thing like that I'll find someone else.' I didn't want him to find someone else; I was getting involved in this strange relationship almost against my will. Tearing into the bedroom I tore my shorts and T off replacing them with just the skimpy runners and rushed back outside, bending over facing the house as if to pick up some rubbish, with my arse in the air and showing the bulge from the plug if anyone had wanted to look.

I waited as long as possible, even chatting to a neighbour for a moment who must have wondered at my mode of dress then returned inside, hardly daring to check my phone. 'OK boy, this time. You wont get another second chance. Same again tomorrow but with full bladder around eight, I'll text.' Eight? It would only just be dusk; anyone going by would see everything. Why was I hard as hell, I grasped my cock and a couple of squeezes had me shooting inside my shorts. He was keeping me aroused every waking moment. I'd just cum and wanted to start again.

The next evening, the last before I was supposed to visit him, by eight I was clothed as he'd instructed, same as previous night but this with a uncomfortable bladder. I wasn't even sure I wanted to go through tonight's little charade, let alone visit for a weekend. Ten past eight I was starting to squeeze my cock in a vain attempt to ease the pressure. That's it, I told myself. I'm being messed around. He won't come. Just go and piss in the bathroom. Forget him.

My legs were almost crossed, the phone rang. 'Now,' it said, 'bring the phone with you.'

I hobbled rather than ran to the front yard, then toward the bins. For the first time I noticed a dark coloured small truck parked over the street with darkened windows in the rear section. Was he there? I played toward the truck anyway and then stood beside my gatepost as if looking down the street. Ding. A text. 'Let it go boy.'

Have you ever tried to piss standing in a public street in the twilight, your cock and balls strapped up, a plug up your arse and just wearing a pair of running shorts. Even though my bladder was bursting I just couldn't make it start. Ding. 'Crouch down and pull the plug from your arse boy.' This was mad. Still I obeyed. It was admittedly a small plug and popped out readily when I managed to get my hand inside the waistband and returning to an upright position I discovered the flow had already started. Flow? More like a gushing torrent soaking my thin shorts and flooding down my legs and trainers to pool under my feet.

jp FREY (frey75014@yahoo.fr) WhatApp +33 6 24 75 81 07

After a while the truck moved off, I never saw anyone move into the drives seat, and I waited a moment longer before making a very careful journey back indoors glad I'd thought to leave an old towel just inside the door.

I only had time to strip what little I wore when Ding.

'You may just do boy. Have to see. Don't wash shorts or trainers, bring with you tomorrow. Expect call when you finish work. That will be your last chance to back out. I WILL HURT YOU.'

That night crowds of storm troopers in leather straps pissing over me and telling me to let it go joined my dreams of Darth Vader. I woke to discover I'd soaked the bed, luckily always made up with a rubber under sheet for solo play and only had time to strip the sheets, start the wash cycle and have a quick shower before off to work. No time for a wank, quick or slow and that I really did need.

I never really got my erection to go down all day and by the time four came round was fed up with comments from the other staff not to mention being in receipt of a slightly sore tip from all the rubbing it had received in my jock.

Five minutes past, I'd only just got to the changing room and picked up my phone to check when Ding. 'Change.

You don't need jock or T. Ride to ...... and I'll call.

It was difficult to hide from my fellow workers that I'd removed my jock but manage to get my denim cut-offs over my package, then socks and boots followed by just my leather jacket. 'No T?' someone asked. 'Too hot,' I replied. They were used to me dressing a bit odd as they called it and I got away with that. Purring down the main roads, then off on a couple of side ones warm wind caressing my chest and up the legs of my shorts did nothing to ease the excitement rumbling bin my groin. When I got to ...... all I wanted to do was rip my fly open and jerk off violently. I think I would have done but that bloody phone went again. Ding. 'Quarter mile down road wood frame house well set back on left. Drive into open garage. Strip. Leave clothes on bike.

Wear trainers and carry run shorts. Come and knock on door. This is your last chance boy. Once in you stay until Sunday afternoon.'

Why didn't I even reconsider? My cock led me; I had no control over that. Also, in retrospect, he'd played me like a master. Well, I suppose he was one. He became mine that weekend.

I followed his instructions exactly.

I found the house without much problem and rode in to the double garage containing another bike and the black van I'd half expected. As I left, quite naked apart from the dirty trainers and carrying the shorts I heard the door slide down behind me. The house was set back from a side road with several trees to shield me, even so I felt quite exposed as I rang the doorbell.

It was several minutes before he stood before me and I got my first real look at the man who would be changing my life.

Very dark as I'd seen before, around six foot so slightly taller than me, close cropped crinkly hair, both eyes and glistening teeth standing out in a frowning face, followed down by a body at least twice a broad as my own, everywhere, but without an ounce of fat to be seen. Washboard stomach, biceps, thighs, bulge in tight cotton shorts, all huge, but somehow not extreme, his body was all beautifully in proportion.

He looked down at me from the doorstep and without warning lashed out with one hand sending me sprawling to the ground. 'Boys like you don't call at front doors. Go round the back and sit on the ground where you belong, also drink the two bottles of water you find there while you wait for me. I'll be out when ready.'

He closed the door with a slam, not waiting to see if I obeyed. What else could I do, my bike and clothes were locked in his garage, all I had were the dirty little shorts I carried so I rose to me feet and trudged carefully round to the back, tears running down my face. But how much they were tears of pain and how much of despondency I couldn't say. My prick was still hard.

Chapter Five

I discovered two bottles of cold water standing under what looked at first appearance to be a frame for climbing plants but as I sat and looked closer it was obviously far to strong being made of six by six, not to mention the rings bolted through at different places and the fact I was sitting on a solid concrete concave slab with a drain hole in the centre. Were it not for the small section of carpet tile I sat on my backside would have been burning from the reflected heat. He'd not told me I couldn't look around and I observed a large probably secluded tree and grass-dominated garden leading from the fair sized half roofed patio. I could only hazard a guess as to the house but estimated it as probably three bedroom and all that went with that, after all he had a large double garage I'd been in and what looked like another single garage that built on the other side that for some reason had its door facing the garden.

It surprised me to discover I'd drunk large bottles of water and my tears had quite finished falling when I became aware of a pair of lightly haired very dark legs clad just in flip flops appear before me. I went to look up and had just caught sight of those cotton shorts with their massive bulge when another almighty slap to my head knocked me to the ground. 'Never raise your head to me unless I make you,' he said, 'when I do you may wish I hadn't' Then his massive hand reached down under my chin to turn my face upwards, 'No tears this time I see!' Did he see everything? 'Stand up and keep your head down.'

I stood. 'Bladder filling boy?'

'Yes Sir.' It wasn't that uncomfortable but there was a pressure there.

'Close your eyes boy,' he put a blindfold over them anyway and then was fastening what I recognised as padded straps round my wrists and ankles, also a solid metal ring round my balls to which he attached a light weight.

'That weight stays on all weekend boy. I'll add or remove others as I see fit.' My body was trembling when he held my now almost flaccid cock and tried to do something with the piss slip. When had my cock gone down? When he blindfolded me so I was unable to see what he would do?

'This wont do. Get down flat on your back and stop shaking, I'm not going to cut it off or anything.' I managed to lay down with his assistance and for the first time in my life had someone slide a small plastic tube up my piss slit and then strap both my cock and the tube to my stomach so they wouldn't come apart. 'Now get up and come over here.' It wasn't easy but with his arms to guide me I sort of shuffled in the direction he wanted and found my body being bent face down at the waist over some apparatus that allowed him to fasten off my wrist and ankles and left my arse, so I thought, stuck in the air at just the right angle for fucking or worse. Those parts of my body not restricted by the straps he was now fastening round me were trembling, part in anticipation but also in some fear. What had I got myself into?

'I'm not really into punishing you boy,' he started, 'I just get off on hurting you and that's what will happen this weekend. I'm not into twenty-four seven relationships or anything and whether you come back or not is quite up to you. However, this weekend you will get hurt and probably auctioned off and I will enjoy every moment. Your enjoyment is of no concern to me.'

Just as I was about to raise some objections he forced a rubber ball gag in my mouth and fastened it off behind my head, which by now was about the only part of my body I could move. 'Breathe through your nose,' I'd not realised there was an air hole through the gag till he plugged it, I discovered soon, with the tube stuck up my prick. 'Hope you ready boy,' as a belt landed across me backside. 'Cant damage that, may want to sell it tomorrow,' and the belt was landing across my back instead. Not regularly or always with the same force, but it just kept on coming.

I'd had my backside belted before but never really my back and certainly never like this and with the ball gag I was also unable to yell or scream. Have you ever been flogged when quite unable to move any part of your body apart from your head, and also unable to squeeze more than a whimper past your gags when all you wanted to do was scream and swear and jerk about and escape. I would have done anything just then to make him stop, not almost anything, but absolutely anything. My eyes weren't just crying, they were the Niagara Falls, I was in agony.

Worse was to come. Through the gag came a liquid I recognised with horror as piss. I knew. I was pissing in my own mouth. No problem, I'd done it before. The problem was I had no awareness of releasing my bladder.

That tube he'd stuck up my piss slit had taken away all feeling apart from some bloating and I had no control over what my bladder would do.

Strangely enough the first feeling when he stopped beating me was more one of loss rather than relief, but was only until the pain really set in. I never struggled at all when he untied me, removed the blindfold and stood me under the wood frame, raising my arms above my head and attaching them to a couple of chains, then knocking my legs apart doing much the same to them. His face only a foot or so from mine his fingers found my nipples.

'Have you been drinking boy?' I nodded. 'Seem to have run out,' he continued and fumbled about down below, 'Be some more soon.'

'Did I hurt you?' I nodded again.

'Did you enjoy it?' as he pinched and twisted my nipples?' I shook my head.

'Too bad. Do you want some more?' I nodded.

I nodded!!! Tears were still streaming down my cheeks and when he left of torturing my nipples and slid his hands over my back my body almost passed out with shock. Yet I agreed to more.

'Just have this little drink first then boy.' His face screwed up slightly as if he were concentrating hard and after a moment a fresh stream of fresh piss swamped my mouth. Somehow he'd connected his own cock to the tube and had enough pressure on board to force a stream up the tube to my mouth. His fingers returned to my nipples, 'Drink deep boy.' What choice did I have?

I heard a phone ringing in the distance and with,' Hang around will you,' and a light slap he moved back to the house. Again a remark I had little choice but to obey strung up as I was. He returned carrying a spray can to tell me, 'You can have a five minute rest. Couple of boys I know on their way who will enjoy hurting you on my behalf. Just as much fun to watch as to indulge. They'll want sex as well, more than once if I remember correctly, but you wont mind that will you?

He shook the can and sprayed the freezing contents my burning back. For a moment it felt even worse if that was possible, but then did seem to ease the pain to a dull throb.

Back to look into my glaring eyes, 'Well you've not said no so obviously you agree to the lads joining in.' He grinned while slapping my dick back and forth a few times. 'I think I'll let them unplug your cock, that will give them another part of your body to play with. Pity if we leave any area out don't you think?' He roughly squeezed some cool cream or grease round the lips and slightly inside my hole and then with a comment of, 'Push out,' thumped my stomach with one hand causing my body to try and double over, while with the other rammed a butt plug straight in and up inside me.

If I'd not been strung up I know I would have tried to hit him. That wasn't pain. It was agony. I'd been split apart.

He attached some sort of belt that fitted tightly round my waist, then a strap down my crack and up either side of my balls, finally being clipped on the waist strap. That held the plug firmly in position not to mention was squeezing the side of my balls. 'Just one more thing,' and he pulled painfully on my balls, attaching a strap round them and leaving them stretched out.

Standing up he looked back in my face, 'Now that wasn't so bad was it?' Actually, now the initial stretching had eased the plug felt quite at home, it was the straps keeping everything tight that were more uncomfortable but even those I could bear for a while. His fingers returned to my nipples and he grinned as I flinched, 'I asked you if it was too much to put up with? I Take it the answer is no sir. That's good.'

Reaching behind me he took a couple of slaps at my backside, 'God I'd love to have a go at that but I can get more for it if reasonably undamaged. Don't worry, I'll have my go when I get you back.'

Chapter Six

I heard a vehicle pull up out front, followed shortly by doors slamming, laughing voices coming round the other garage and then, they as shocked as myself, the two young men Big Sarge had allowed to use me briefly a couple of weeks back.

'Now that's a nice surprise, been looking all over for you,' one of them said, 'Told you we'd enjoy a longer session.'

'Looks like we going to get one now, and some.' Said the other. 'What can we do with him?' turning to my host.

'Whatever you like,' he replied. 'Just leave his backside alone for now. I'm going to take him to the truck park later and auction it off. You can fuck it though, just plug him after, you know they like a dirty arse down there.'

'Can we take his gag out? We like to hear and anyway will need his mouth anyway.'

'OK. Better use the den, sound travels this time of day. Take his piss tube out as well. He can drink from the tap in future.'

How long had I been here? It was already turning dusk. What did he mean about auctioning my backside?

They unclipped my restraints and led me into the other garage. Once inside and the door closed I discovered it to be laid out for torture, not storing motor vehicles. The whole place was painted black apart from red tile paint covering the floor. The two lads had been here before as they rushed round quickly flicking switches and lighting candles bathing the whole room in soft red flickering light apart from some mini white spots over some equipment in the centre. When that got lit up I turned to go. Too late.

My host was standing right behind holding a camcorder in one hand and easily catching and holding me with the other. 'I told you once in, no change of mind.' What about my friends here anyway, they've come all this way for a bit of fun and now find you here to play with they can really go to town. I should get a film out of this I can sell for more than all of their other ones put together.'

I don't know what would have happened if I'd made a real effort to get away then. I will admit to being frightened as to what might happen but there was also this other side that wanted to endure, to take anything he could throw at me, the same side of me that would visit dirty rest stops in the middle of the night dressed in little more than the straps I wore now. Also Big Sarge had some idea of where I'd gone and told me I'd get out in one piece. Even so, I was shaking when they came for me.

The lads had striped right off and now wore little more than studded leather jocks, some odd bits of chain and harness, their original boots, and a couple of small eye masks. I recognised them now from a couple of very vanilla S&M films I'd seen, very vanilla but nice as background for the bodies of the two lads who jerked off for the camera. I'd liked the look of them when Sarge gave them a quick go at me; I'd thought then a longer session might be fun. I'd not been thinking of the type of session it seemed was about to occur.

My host pushed me toward them and I just made out the whir of his camcorder starting, then forgot all about him as they lit into me with hardly a word. One grabbed my shoulders from behind and spun me round to face the cam while the other punched me in the stomach, not quite as hard as it could have been but sufficient to knock the wind out of me and with the other pushing my shoulders I realised I should fold down to the floor. Once down there they wasted little time and fewer words strapping my wrists together, pulling a chain down from the roof to attach them to, then two further chains they attached to each ankle.

Bending to my head the ball gag was removed from my mouth and while I was licking and swallowing to clear my mouth, the tube stuck up my prick was jerked out without warning.

I yelled, for a split second it was an indescribable pain, gone almost at once, just leaving a memory of hell as I heard a clanking and found my legs were being raised from the floor by a hoist that just kept on turning, my legs stretched apart, till my whole body was hanging upside down, my head lying at right angles on the smooth painted floor.

'If we can't warm his arse outside, how about inside?' one of the lads asked my host.

'Don't see why not.'

It wasn't the expected cock that followed a shot of cold grease up my hole however but several fingers, forcing their way straight through my arse lips and turning to twist and pull inside my hole. My body was twisting and scraping against the floor in protest at the invasion and abuse and my mouth was keeping them good company.

'Lets shut him up a bit,' followed by that clanking again and discovering my arms were being pulled up by the chain attached to my bound wrists very shortly followed by my body as the clanking continued. Very shortly I discovered myself hanging from outstretched legs and combined arms a few feet from the floor. It was difficult to hold my head up but I did see a thinner choke chain fitted behind my balls and attached overhead where, when it was released, some weight was applied to assist the stretching my balls.

My head fell back as it was too much effort to hold it up and I couldn't see what else they were doing to me.

Next were fingers prising my mouth open to fit a solid rubber covered ring just behind my teeth with straps fastened off behind my head. I knew what its use was but had only seen one before; never had one fitted or thought it would be needed. I was wrong.

Only a moment later a cock was fed through the ring and part way down my throat accompanied by fingers twisting and pinching my nipples. 'This is one face fuck you wont forget in a hurry.' Apart from my body being hung up and my head falling toward the floor it didn't seem that different so far. The fingers invading my arse were removed and wiped over my chest, shortly to be replaced by the warm solid rod of an aroused cock forcing a violent entrance and not stopping until fully home. This of course swung my body to make my mouth engulf the cock there down to its bush the gag reflex passing quickly due to the angle of my neck.

Breathing was difficult, the cocks filling my mouth and arse were not moving as normal which would have eased the situation, the fingers attacking my nipples were removed and a voice 'Now.'

My body went into spasms, upward, sideways, crashing back down against the chains and back up again as what felt like a pair of prongs were stuck against my body, again and again. My thighs, my sides, my stomach, just once on my groin, that was the worse. Pure unadulterated agony. All the time those cocks spit roasting me from either end remained static, it was the gyrations of my body working on them that caused the increase of blood, that caused them to swell even larger, to throb to heat up.

They were however pushing harder and deeper inside me, 'More. Do him again. Increase the dose. Go on, hurt him.' They were the sort of comments I could hear above a almost continuous moaning I suddenly realised was coming from my own mouth escaping round that plug of a cock. It sounded almost inhuman; the state my body was being subjected to right then was inhuman. Shock after shock after shock.

'Enough,' came a shout and the attack ceased as the cock filling my mouth was withdrawn and rapidly wanked off over my face. 'Don't waste it,' and a hand scraped the resulting mess into my mouth while holding my head upright by its hair. Shortly after the cock in my arse did the same, shooting over my stomach and feeding me the result after removing the mouth ring.

They let my body down to lie limply on the cold floor. I couldn't have moved to save my life. When someone said they wanted a piss and I had to return outside I didn't even respond when being kicked in the side and finally was picked up by my arms and legs, carried out to a muddy area when they just dropped me and pissed all over my body. I didn't, just couldn't, care. The pain had ceased but my body was still in denial and withdrawal.

It was only when I saw raw footage a few weeks later I became aware the boys had only maintained contact with my body with their cocks, their hands holding the chains above my body, while the camera man, my original abuser, kept on poking my body with a battery powered cattle rod.

No wonder I made no response when first released, still made little reaction when moved, hosed down, carried to and laid face down in the back of that dark windowed truck I'd seen before, my face toward the rear door. Even when they all climbed in the cab and the vehicle started to move I was only just recovering.

I'd forgotten. He'd said he was going to sell my arse!

Chapter Seven

I must have actually dozed off and only came to when I felt the vehicle pull quickly to a stop and the cab doors open and slam close. I was still laying on my stomach facing the rear doors when they were flung open and a subdued light flooded in.

'Hell, he ain't joking. He had got a lad with a pert arse laying out here. How much to fuck it did you say?'

There was a fair amount of whispering and grumbling then my original abuser climbed in and after raising my groin to shove what felt, and smelt, like an old dirty tarp underneath pointing my backside up in the air, clipped the wrist and ankle straps still attached to rings conveniently placed in each corner of the van.

'Right. He's ready now, which ones first?'

'What if he yell's? Don't want too much attention.'

'He wont,' bending down to look in my face, 'You know better than to make too much noise don't you?'

accompanied by a couple of slaps. 'Just to be safe though,' he reached into the corner and pulling my head up let it fall back down on a rank piss soaked rag. 'That's my old piss and cum filled jock. If he gets too loud just shove that in his mouth. We're off to get a takeaway, don't be long.'

Fuck! He'd left me at the mercy of a bunch of strangers who could do almost anything they wanted and any objections on my part would only result on being gagged by the rank rag lying under my face. This wasn't going to be like my own trips out to be fucked where I did at least have some control over what abuse would happen to my body.

One of the groins standing round in front of the open door stepped forward, for that was all my view allowed, a series of dirty overalls, jeans and a few shorts from thigh to stomach against the shadowed light. He pulled a thick flaccid uncut cock through the gap of his overalls. 'Suck on this lad. You better get it nice and wet before I use it to plug your sweet tight arse hole.'

Well, I may not be quite as sweet or tight as he thought but could see what was hanging there would not find an easy entrance however much I licked and lubed. Even hanging down in its semi limp state what I saw was not a normal prick by any description. It had to be at least ten inches long and I'd never close my fingers round it now, let alone when it woke up. Even Big Sarge would have looked small beside it.

He stuck a small brown bottle under my nose, 'Take a big hot lad, it should help.' Poppers, thank god! Id be needing all the help I could get.

While he held my head loosely and started to wipe his rapidly hardening cock along my lips as if I was playing a mouth organ I felt the van bounce as a couple of people clambered in along side me. 'Are you sure this is OK pop? We can just fuck this arse and no comebacks?'

'You saw me pay the man didn't you. That arse belongs to us for the next thirty minutes and I need you two getting it ready for me. Strip off and fuck boys, I know you love an audience.'

I never did get to see what his sons looked like but judging him as under forty would put them as no more than twenty and it was obvious they did like an audience and the van jiggled around some more as I guessed they were striping off and then, with no warning, several fingers were brutally shoved straight in my hole. I yelped and tried to pull my body away from the invasion.

'He's wet but still tight pop. Shouldn't need any more lube.'

'You warn me before doing that again boys; I was just about to find out how welcoming his mouth was. You oil him up good anyway, He'll need all the help he can get when I take your place.'

It felt as if a whole tube of some thick cold grease or cream was injected in my arse then, 'here I go,' and it was followed by a stiff cock wasting no time in plunging straight down and up to the hilt. The feeling of that thick grease being pushed deep inside my gut was like shitting in reverse, most peculiar. I must have made some sound as the massive cock asked, 'you like that then lad?' Actually I did. The cock was a nice warm rod that fitted perfectly and was now sliding slowly in and out with a natural rhythm I tried to meet. Also, the feeling when the grease started warming up and coating all my gut rather than just the usual arse lips was somehow soothing.

'Yes, thought you'd like my boys. They do a good arse fuck, can keep it up all night between them but we've not got the time. Pity, you've a much better body than most of the boy's I buy them.'

He used his fingers to prise my mouth open and stuck the tip of his cock between me teeth, 'Its all right. I'm not going to fuck your pretty little face lad; I'd have to knock all your teeth out for that. No reason you shouldn't suck on me for a bit though.'

Actually, once my mouth managed to accommodate his girth and the knowledge, hopefully truth, that he wouldn't be trying to get that weapon down my throat, did leave no reason why I shouldn't be sucking away. I was in fact quite enjoying myself. The cock up my arse had increased its speed and could be felt almost sloshing around now that whatever grease had been used was warmed up. He was actually a good fucker, big enough to feel without massive pain, good steady and increasing stroke, and his hands gripping my upper thighs to obtain better grip and angle. He was fucking my arse and intent on his own pleasure, in the process giving me quite a bit as well.

I sucked happily on the fathers weapon, almost forgetting where it would be later as my body surrendered to the attack on my rear. It was, of course, too good to last. The cock up my arse speeded up and unloaded almost without my notice as his thrusts forced more of the father's weapon in my mouth and hitting the back of my throat. Both cocks were withdrawn at almost the same time and my arse was penetrated again, but this time by a considerably larger object and one quite prepared to ram my body through the floor of the van. It was a good thing my mouthful had been removed as I had some trouble not to allow more than the odd whimper or groan escape my lips. This boy knew he was hurting me and obtaining enjoyment from the fact.

'Take it lad,' came from the body before my face, 'He's just opening you up for me. Do you want gagging?' I shook my head. I had no wish for the soaking and stinking filthy jock at present under my chin to be jammed in my mouth. Apart from anything else I'd have to swallow some of the contents and even just smelling it made me gag. So I took it.

Actually, once my body got over the initial forced entry it wasn't too bad. His problem was that he thought the only way to hurt me lay in a forced fuck and I'd been forced, fucked and hurt by experts. He needed training in how to sexually abuse a body and I felt disinclined to assist. At least he was opening my hole somewhat in preparation for the assault to come.

He wasted so much energy and concentration in showing the audience how good he was that he started shooting before he wanted. I heard him, 'Shit! Fuck! Too soon!' And he didn't leave much of a deposit either.

'How was he?' asked the father, causing the truck to tip to one side as he clambered aboard.

'Waste of time,' I replied. Probably a stupid remark in my present circumstances but he was. His brother earlier had actually done a better job of preparing my hole for the violation about to occur.

My smart remark resulted in a fist alongside my head from one of the boys exiting the truck and a follow-up comment from the father. 'You leave him alone now, you've had your turn and he only said what I've told you before when I share a boy with you.' Then, with a change of tone, 'You just try and relax lad, one of you boys popper him up, he's about to get royally fucked.'

The welcome bottle appeared under my nose to be gratefully inhaled. I'd seen what was already probing at the rosebud of my hole, I'd even felt part of it in my mouth, and still couldn't believe it was about to force its way inside and up my gut. There was no way my hole could stretch for that.

It tried though; I'll give it that. He pushed hard at my hole and as I held my breath I actually thought for a moment he'd break through, but no. Even so it hurt.

'Feed him more poppers, he's got to relax more.' The bottle reappeared, this time accompanied by a young face surrounded by damp wiry hair and the most kissable lips.

'You have to let him in. He get there one way or another, what can I do to help?'

'Poppers, and kiss me when he tries again please.' Where did I get the cheek to ask that? This family, and the audience I'd almost forgotten about, had to be as hetro and butch as possible. I'd get my head kicked in for that.

Now I considered it there were voices all around, jostling for space and a view into the truck of my spreadeagled body and the monster cock about to split me. 'Go on. Fuck the cunt. Rape that boy arse. Make him yell,' and other like comments.

The bottle, the feelings of a baseball bat at my rear, and, two hands holding my head and that set of lips clamped tightly against mine. What actually caused my body to allow an entrance I have no idea but I couldn't ignore the fact that something had invaded my arse, something broader than it had ever experienced before.

Something that still had to reach the depths beyond normal access.

Chapter Eight

Thank god for that little bottle. I'd inhaled deeply the moment my hole flinched away from its massive attacker but that alone didn't account for the fact I'd not screamed the place down when the initial violation occurred, let alone as my body was slowly but surely invaded by that monster weapon. I was split in half and then quarters by the slow but steady invasion, I wanted to scream but my lips were sealed and my breath taken by the lips so impossibly clamped to mine, the tongue boldly playing touch and go with my own.

Even when I felt his ball sac and hairy groin slam against my poor arse cheeks he hadn't finished. Reaching down to prise my cheeks further apart he rammed that extra half-inch of his weapon in, nailing my lower body to the floor. As his hands moved again, this time to grip my shoulders the upper section of my body was flexing and writhing in a vain effort to escape his attack, but of course just allowing his cock easier access and movement.

As he started slowly, very slowly thank God, to slide in and out, back and forth, to the accompaniment of voices from out side I'd forgotten about, 'Yeah. Go for it. Fuck the little bastard. Rape his arse. Split him,' and other like comments and suggestions I managed to filter out. As he started, the mouth that had kissed me so deeply changed to a pair of hands holding my head firmly, and a voice, 'Go with it, relax and enjoy.'

How the hell could I enjoy being fucked, no raped, by that monster of a cock?

'Go on,' the voice continued, take it and feed from it. You know you want to really.'

As the speed of my assault increased slightly I realised the voice was right and finally opened my eyes. It was difficult to see much against the lights from outside, untidy shoulder length hair, a smiling young face about my own age and a pair of eyes looking straight into mine. 'It's getting to you now, I just knew he would but I fucked you first. How was I?'

'Lovely,' I managed to gasp as my attacker speeded up again.

'Did I hurt you?' I nodded.

'You enjoyed it?' I nodded again.

'And now?'

'Different? I'd rather it be you any night.'

'What about every night?' he asked.

'Will you punish me?' I asked. Where was this conversation coming from, more to the point, where was it going?

'Every time I feel like it,' he answered. 'You'll move in with me and work in our garage. Anytime I want your arse I'll take it, it will be all mine. I'll probably farm your mouth out though.'

The cock up my arse was really pounding now, my front was going to be black and blue from the punishment it was getting from the van floor. I couldn't concentrate on what he was saying anymore, all I could feel, all I knew, was that cock fucking my arse.

'Go on then, Fuck Me! Stop playing around, rape my fuckin arse.'

That was me, crying, moaning, yelling, yet begging for more. Right then I wanted more. I needed to feel more as he shot his boiling streams of man juice up and inside my sorely abused hole. I needed abuse elsewhere to spread the pain, and I got it. As my fucker raised his body from mine someone was laying across my shoulders and back with a belt.

'Yes! Yes! Yes!' That was me again. I felt a rampant cock pushing at my gasping mouth and opened my lips and teeth to accept it, accept and worship it. Still the belt fell across my unprotected body, now my arse and back encouraging me to service that cock harder and deeper. I wanted that cock to fuck my mouth and throat as thoroughly as my arse had just been used. It did. I needed oxygen, my arse, back and hole were in agony, but still I never even grazed that cock with my teeth. I knew, somehow, who it belonged to, who was feeding me, who I wanted to take me. In the second that sensation blasted into my brain the cock blasted down my throat, I reacted by diving deeper. My nose squashed against his groin, my lips tightened around the base of his shaft and I suckled and licked as best I could. I would have swallowed his cock, right down if that had been an option. I could feel myself going but just was unable to let go, my head was spinning. I needed to service that cock.

I found myself sitting over the edge of the truck, my head between my knees and gasping desperately for breath.

A hand under my chin raised my head, I could see him more clearly now, his naked muscled body gleaming with sweat under the overhead lights. He had no concern about the audience, just about me. I could see it, I knew it. I knew he'd take care of me, as long as I deserved it, on his terms of course. There was no reason to say anything.

'He's mine,' I heard him say; 'I'm taking him home.' He had no concern for others opinions, this was what he wanted and this was what he would do.

'You can't have him; I'm selling him off down the park for a whipping.'

That was a voice I'd managed to half forget. I know he'd promised to hurt me but that idea sounded a bit too much.

'I've changed my mind,' I told him.

'You can't. I've got your clothes and bike. You wont get them back.'

'He wont need clothes this weekend,' retorted my rescuer, 'My dad will pick up the boys bike on his way home.

Big Sarge wouldn't be happy if he knew what you really got up to over the state line would he.'

That seemed to be it, 'Go get in the back of that pickup,' he slapped my backside.

Hardly any comment from the audience to all this, they parted like the red sea, all those macho men, giving way to a lad in his early twenties leading his naked slave. Yes, I realised, that is what I'd just become.

He helped me into the pickup with a swat across my arse, led me to the frame behind the cab and put my arms out to grab hold the top bar.

'Are you going to stand here boy or do I need to tie your hands?'

'I'll stand Sir.'

'Good boy. I'm taking you home to fuck, probably beat you, use you as my toilet and let you sleep at the foot of my bed. How's that sound to you?'

'Perfect Sir,' I replied.

A few moments later the pickup roared from the truck stop, his Masters naked slave standing proudly upright in the rear, exposed to the elements and any passing vehicles. His erect cock and tight balls were bouncing off the cab top, he had a stupid smile stretching from side to side of his face. He'd found his Master and was going home.

by AntBoy

~~

~~

[alukovinyl]

Toyota Camry Car Wrap: Elevate Your Everyday Drive

The Toyota Camry, known for its reliability, comfort, and sleek design, is a staple on roads worldwide. While the Camry is already a standout vehicle, a custom car wrap can take its appearance to the next level. In this article, we'll explore the best car wrap options for different Camry models, the wrap sizes you'll need, and the expected costs.

Choosing the Perfect Car Wrap for Your Toyota Camry

Selecting the right car wrap for your Camry depends on your style and how you want your car to be perceived. Here are some popular options:

Matte Finish: Ideal for a modern and sophisticated look, matte wraps offer a unique appearance that sets your Camry apart from the rest.

Glossy Finish: If you prefer to maintain the factory shine but want to add a personal touch, glossy wraps are a perfect choice. They provide a fresh, polished look.

Satin Finish: Satin wraps strike a balance between matte and glossy finishes, giving your Camry a smooth, luxurious appearance without too much glare.

Metallic Finish: For a bit of sparkle and shine, metallic wraps add a premium feel to your Camry, making it look more upscale and eye-catching.

Color Shift: These wraps change color based on the angle and lighting, giving your Camry a dynamic, ever-changing look that's sure to attract attention.

Wrap Sizes for Different Toyota Camry Models

The size of the wrap you need depends on the model of your Camry. Here's a general guide:

Toyota Camry LE and SE: These standard models typically require a wrap size of around 50 feet by 5 feet to cover the entire car, including bumpers, roof, and side mirrors.

Toyota Camry XLE and XSE: With additional styling elements and larger body dimensions, these models might need slightly more material, about 55 feet by 5 feet.

Toyota Camry TRD: The TRD model, with its sportier design and added aerodynamic features, usually requires around 60 feet by 5 feet for a full wrap.

These measurements can vary based on the complexity of the wrap design and any additional custom elements you may want to include.

Cost of Wrapping Your Toyota Camry

The cost of wrapping a Toyota Camry can vary widely based on several factors, including the type of wrap, the complexity of the installation, and your location. Here's a breakdown of the average costs:

Basic Vinyl Wrap: For a simple, single-color wrap, you can expect to pay between $2,000 and $3,000. This price includes both material and labor.

Custom Designs: If you're opting for a custom design or a more complex wrap, such as a metallic or color shift finish, the cost can range from $3,500 to $5,000.

Additional Elements: Adding extra elements like custom graphics, stripes, or logos can add $500 to $1,000 to the total cost.

DIY Kits: If you're confident in your skills and want to try wrapping your Camry yourself, DIY kits are available starting at around $800. However, professional installation is recommended for the best results.

Conclusion

Wrapping your Toyota Camry is an excellent way to enhance its appearance and make it truly unique. Whether you prefer a matte, glossy, satin, metallic, or color shift finish, there's a car wrap that matches your style. Ensure you measure your specific model correctly to get the right amount of material and consider professional installation for the best outcome. While costs can vary, the investment in a car wrap is well worth it for the transformation it brings to your trusted Camry.

So, elevate your everyday drive and turn heads with a stunning new look that showcases your personality and taste.

[optimalautoparts]

BMW Horsepower King: The 3 Most Powerful Cars Ever Produced

A car without good horsepower is practically useless. Picture driving a car that accelerates sluggishly and drags on the road every time you take it out. It's not a pleasant experience and is a hassle for any car owner.

The greater the horsepower, the better the performance. Your car should always be at its peak performance when you drive. If you’re a BMW enthusiast, you have a wide array of powerful cars to choose from.

BMW has released numerous high-horsepower cars that drive like a dream. These vehicles, powered by impressive BMW V8 engines, boast horsepower ranging from 200 to over 600, with some rumored to reach up to 700 hp.

However, before purchasing your Optimal Used BMW, it’s essential to know which model offers the highest horsepower. A stylish car body isn't enough; you want a reliable vehicle that won't cost a fortune in repairs.

Read this article to discover which BMW has the highest horsepower and its remarkable features, ensuring you get a car that’s truly worth your investment.

2011 BMW M3 GTS (E92) - Packing a robust 444 horsepower

In 2010, BMW's engineers took inspiration from Porsche and created a GTS variant of the M3. They trimmed down the M3 by removing the rear seats, lightening the door trim, and slimming down the center console. Additional weight-saving measures included eliminating most of the sound system, replacing the rear windows with polycarbonate, and equipping the car with a lightweight titanium exhaust system. As a result, the GTS was approximately 100 pounds lighter than the standard M3.

2011 BMW M3 GTS (E92) Performance Specifications

Engine4.4-liter V-8Horsepower444 horsepowerTorque325 pound-feetTransmissionSeven-Speed AutomaticDrivelineRWD0-60 MPH4.4 secondsTop Speed190 mph

The GTS also featured a firmer suspension and a more potent engine. BMW modified the naturally aspirated 4.0-liter V-8, expanding it to a 4.4-liter V-8. Despite the substantial increase in engine size, the GTS generated only 30 additional horsepower and 30 extra foot-pounds of torque compared to the standard M3. However, the combination of increased power and reduced weight made the GTS significantly quicker than the base model. Unfortunately, BMW chose not to release the GTS in the United States.

M4 DTM Champion - A formidable 493 horsepower

To commemorate Marco Wittmann's victories in the Deutsche Tourenwagen Masters of 2014 and 2016, BMW crafted 200 exclusive M4 DTM Champion editions. These special editions were exclusively painted Alpine White, adorned with M racing-themed stripes that accentuated the car's sleek design. The aesthetic was further enhanced by exposed carbon fiber elements, including the front splitter, mirror caps, side skirts, rear diffuser, and rear spoiler, providing a striking contrast against the pristine white bodywork.

M4 DTM Champion Performance Specifications

Engine3.0-liter twin-turbo inline-sixHorsepower493 horsepowerTorque443 pound-feetTransmissionSeven-speed automaticDrivelineRWD0-60 MPH3.8 secondsTop Speed190 mph

This special M4 was not only enhanced for performance but also underwent weight reduction for optimal agility. Equipped with a water injection system, it boasted 49 additional horsepower compared to the M4 with the competition package. To shed weight, components such as the roof, hood, and instrument panel support were crafted from lightweight carbon-reinforced plastic composites. Similar to the BMW M3 GTS, the M4 DTM Champion was not offered in the United States.

Tuners like Manhart have demonstrated the potential for even greater power from the M4 DTM. By extracting 708 horsepower from its engine, they showcased how BMW engineers could have pushed the limits further if they chose to do so.

2022 BMW X3M Competition - 503 Horsepower

The X3M is already an SUV that packs a surprising punch, but the Competition edition takes it to a whole new realm. With an additional 37 pound-feet of torque, it's like turning up the volume to eleven, though that analogy hardly does it justice. While the standard X3M maxes out at 155 miles per hour, the Competition variant pushes the boundaries to 177. Adding to its allure are 21-inch lightweight wheels, a sleek gloss black grille, and mirror caps. Inside, the seats feature more pronounced bolsters, ensuring a dynamic driving experience unmatched in its class.

2022 BMW X3M Performance Specifications

Engine: 3.0L twin-turbo Inline-six

Horsepower: 503 horsepower

Torque: 457 pound-feet

Transmission: Eight-Speed Automatic

Driveline: AWD

0-60 MPH: 3.2 seconds

Top Speed: 177 mph

The X3 M effortlessly blends opulence, performance, and the utilitarian appeal that resonates so well with American SUV enthusiasts. Step inside, and you're greeted with a high-tech digital gauge cluster, plush heated front seats, power-adjustable fronts, and ambient interior lighting that sets the mood just right. Opt for the bells and whistles—like heated rear seats, a panoramic sunroof, and a toasty heated steering wheel—and BMW will happily oblige for a little extra cash. Plus, the X3 M doesn't compromise on practicality, offering ample room for both passengers and cargo, ensuring every journey is as comfortable as it is exhilarating.