Hotel voyeur window

2020.11.11 17:56 blackfridayswitch13 Hotel voyeur window


READ ME: PART 1
READ ME: PART 2
READ ME: PART 3
READ ME: PART 4
READ ME: PART 5
READ ME: PART 6
READ ME: PART 7
READ ME: PART 8
I sat looking out my window as the rain fell. It seemed like it was always raining these days.
I curled inside my blankets and fell asleep.
I had strange dreams. It was honestly more impressive I had any dreams at all. I had not recalled a dream for years. Only, I would have been fine without remembering these dreams.
I dreamt of a vampire taking me by the neck. Just as he was about to put his teeth inside my vein, I woke in a horrifying sweat.
I took off my pajama top and tossed it to the ground. It was drenched in sweat. I stood up and shuffled to the bathroom, disoriented, and dizzy. I turned on the bathroom light and looked into the mirror. I was having trouble seeing well, so I threw cold water upon my face. I took a deep breath and looked at myself in the mirror.
“You old goat,” I said to myself.
Then from the corner of my eyes, I saw him. There was a shadow in my bedroom standing in the corner. I could feel its eyes on me, and I felt myself trembling.
“Who’s there?” I asked.
There was no response from it. It only came closer to the edge of the bed towards the door of my bathroom.
I saw a figure with a cape suddenly emerge into the light. All I could see were two shining amber eyes, and then with a quick flick of his finger, he wrapped the cape around his body, and he disappeared.
I stood in awe, although I am not entirely sure why, after all, I had seen these last few weeks.
I looked at my room, turning on a light, and I looked at the clock. It was just after midnight. I had only been asleep a little over an hour. I crawled inside my bed, trying to forget the figure, then I heard it. Music was coming from my parlor. It sounded like circus music, and I wrapped my pillow around my head until it got louder. Finally, I could take it no more, grabbed my glasses off my bedstand, putting them on, I walked downstairs, grabbing my robe as I went.
I threw on my robe as I rushed downstairs, expecting to find some teenagers partying outside my window, only it was coming from the bookcase where I housed the “READ ME” book. I sighed. I should have known by now.
I was usually okay with it, but right now, I wanted nothing more than to sleep! I was not in the mood to read stories and rescue sorry souls, create magic, or - as I had the thought that is when I saw it. My entire parlor turned into a circus tent.
I could see animals with dresses on, people tons of people in their best-dressed attire; there was a man on stilts, there was a dancing ballerina, a man running as he breathed fire at the crowds. In the corner were a fortune teller and a bearded lady. I looked at the sign, and it said Whitman and Briarton Circus.
I smiled a bit; it had been such a long time since I had seen a real circus. With all the animal rights activists shutting down the circus in most towns, it was fun to relive a living memory, if even for a second. This is what it had to be. I had not seen the Whitman and Briarton Circus act in over fifty years. I was a small child the last time I had seen the circus. I could smell the popcorn, see the clowns dancing, and for a second, I stood up ready to walk the long corridors of the tents set up so I could join the patrons. Only the images seemed to move away from me when I stepped closer to them. It was that, an illusion.
I saw it float by me, turning its crispy pages in mid-air, waiting on me to grab on to it. I took the book, and it fell into me hard and heavy.
“Fine, you win,” I said.
THE MAGICIAN
I looked at the pages of the book, and they seemed to grow before me. The pages spread out, and like a giant cape, they wrapped themselves around me. They seemed to grow in size until I could barely breathe. That is when I heard a loud popping of a gun going off.
I could smell the smoke, and then I saw it.
“You see here?” said a tall, thin man. “This is no ordinary rabbit.” he held up the rabbit.
Then I saw him look directly at me. For the first time, one of the characters in the book looked at me.
“Hello, Robert.”
I took a deep breath.
“Won’t you step out of your world and into ours? I think you will enjoy the story more if you join us.”
I smiled, and as I walked towards him, I found a seat and sat down in front of him.
He turned his attention away from me and towards the crowd of people dressed in clothing from another time. He seemed to forget me now and escaped back into what he was doing in another time and place.
I watched on as the crowd cheered when he presented a white handkerchief in place of the rabbit, putting the handkerchief back in his upside-down hat, and then pulled out the white rabbit again.
I smiled to myself. I looked around the small tent and noticed a man standing towards the back of the crowd. I kept watching him expecting him to do something. Instead, he did nothing but kept a sinister gaze on our friendly magician.
The magician noticed the man and abruptly ended his show.
“Well, that is all for now. Won’t you head on over to the main tent where you will see the acrobatic splendor of the tigers?”
The crowd got up, and the magician led them out of the tent as he held his hat upside down, and they put coins inside of it as they left.
When they were gone, the sinister-looking man came out of the shadows.
“Vincent, you have much to learn.”
“Oh, I saw you catch the end of the show. Did you like it?”
“Childs Play.”
“I did all the tricks you taught me back in Germany.”
“You should have grown by now. You are nothing more than a side show’s sideshow act. I have seen all I came to see.”
The young magician pleaded with the older man as I watched on.
“Please, Mr. Dobbins, can’t I show you some of the other tricks I have found?”
“If you must, but I am leaving to go back to my hotel. I’m tired now. I will be back tomorrow evening.”
“I wasn’t this bad always.” said the young magician to his white rabbit, who sat in its cage eating grasses.
A cold gust of wind blew into the tent and nearly knocked over the chairs. I could feel it’s chill, and then I saw her in the doorway. The young magician looked at her bewildered. A woman stood in a red sequin dress, she had fiery auburn hair and her lips looked like sweet cherries.
“Can I help you?” asked the young magician.
“I think you most certainly can. You are exactly what I have been looking for on this chilly night,” she said with a slight accent.
The young magician looked upon her bewildered and yet mesmerized. The woman whose beauty matched no women before or after stepped inside the tent and looked at the young man, and then he, without thinking, took her pale hand.
She looked at him, doe-eyed. “My name is Amalie; what is yours?”
“Vincent.”
“Perfect,” she said and kissed his cheek.
In a strange fit, if frenzy, he kissed her hard on the mouth. She smiled and then kissed him back, nearly taking off her clothes right there. I felt odd watching as though I were a voyeur. Then I saw her face change. Her eyes became serpent-like, and her mouth doubled open, and she sunk two layers of teeth into his neck. The young man screamed, and yet the euphoria he felt kept him from running away. Instead, he accepted all that she was taking from him.
“You’re no lady,” he whispered to her.
“No, I’m not. I am your salvation,” and she sunk her teeth inside of his neck again.
The pages that had wrapped themselves around me so warmly now opened back up and shrunk to their average size. I was holding the book in my hand when I looked down at the book.
Words fell before me now, in Vincent’s own words.
It was a night that I met Countess Amalie. I had forgotten what had taken place that very first night we met, but from that moment on, she was at my side. She never left me.
I had known Mr. Dobbins most of my life. He had taken me in when I was a child after my parents died in the war. He was our neighbor then, a funny older man that worked as a magician. Germans killed his wife and children during the war, so he was never quite the same. He took me in saving my life, teaching me everything that I knew. He could be a harsh critic. I had my life to thank him for. I didn’t like giving up on my dreams, so I worked hard as a magician. I strived to create new acts to hold the interest of anyone that would watch me.
Mr. Dobbins remained unimpressed. Then I met Countess Amalie, and that changed.
Mr. Dobbins had come back the very next evening, just as he promised, and this time Amalie met him at the tent opening.
“You must be Mr. Dobbins.”
“Yes, what is it to you?”
“I am Vincent’s pretty helper for the evening.”
“Oh, well, let us get on with it then.”
Amalie walked over to me and took my hand, “Tonight we shall levitate.”
“What? I have never done that before.”
“Watch and learn. Just say abracadabra, and I will float all on my own.” she smiled at me, kissing my cheek.
I did as told, and the crowd, now sitting before me watching on in amazement. Mr. Dobbins, my teacher, watched on as well, expecting failure.
“Ladies and gentlemen, won’t you meet the amazing Amalie. She will be my helper tonight. She has extraordinary talents. Did you know she can fly?” I asked the crowd, and Amalie smiled onward, bowing demurely.
Mr. Dobbins crossed his arms and stood back with a look of pure disgust and disdain.
However, I didn’t let it deter me, and I set up the blocks, but Amalie told me not just to say the words.
“Abracadabra!”
In one motion, Amalie did a summersault in mid-air. She stayed up in the air and then began to float. She floated up higher and higher and then flew over the crowd of people who screamed in excitement.
Then she floated back down slowly back to the stage, and I took her hand, and we stood there bowing.
It was magnificent. I don’t know how she was able to do it.
When the show was over, Mr. Dobbins came over to me beaming.
“Vincent, I am so proud of you. However, did you do it?”
“A true magician never gives up his secrets,” Amalie spoke to Mr. Dobbins, situating herself in front of me.
“Ah, yes, very true. I’m sorry old boy, won’t you let me take you to dinner at the hotel I’m staying at?”
“I’d like that very much,” I said
“Amalie, you must join us,” said Mr. Dobbins.
“I couldn’t. I’m on my very own special diet that keeps my figure what you see here. You two go and enjoy yourselves.” She kissed my cheek.
When we left and were in Mr. Dobbin’s car, we drove off to the city. The lights were delightful, and I was happy to be in his presence. He had grown so much like a father to me over the years.
“Tell me, Vincent, how did you and Amalie meet?”
I couldn’t recall. For once in my life, I tried and could not remember how we had met.
“Oh, you know circus life, you meet a lot of people.”
“Yes, I suppose. Here we are.” He said, pulling into the parking lot of a grand hotel. He had a valet park his car, and we went inside to the main restaurant.
We were sitting down, and Mr. Dobbins couldn’t seem to take the smile off his face.
“I am so proud of you. I was worried for a while about how you would turn out after the war. Your parents meant so much to me. You mean so much to me.”
“I know that. I am thankful for all you have done for me. Truly I am. Although I have to say working in the circus isn’t my ideal job. I hope I can have my show in Vegas. As soon as Amalie and I make enough money, we are out of here.”
Mr. Dobbins had tears in his eyes, and I ordered us some ale, and he patted me on the back.
Later that night, when I got back to my trailer, Amalie was missing. She had been with me for weeks, and yet tonight, she was gone. Where had she gone off to?
Shortly after midnight, a figure appeared over my bed. I turned on the light next to my bed, and there stood Amalie with a severe expression on her face. She was looking at me, but not in my eyes. She was staring at my neck.
“Amalie, are you alright?”
She seemed to snap out of it, and a small grin fell over her face. I noticed her white blouse and jeans had blood on them. She didn’t say anything. She just crawled inside the bed next to me.
That afternoon I busied myself helping out some of the other circus workers while Amalie slept. I couldn’t help but wonder about Amalie. She was beautiful in every way, perfect even. She seemed to love me, and honestly, I couldn’t recall when I didn’t love her, but she was a stranger to me.
Amalie and I were growing to be successful, and people from far and wide came to see our sideshow act expecting to see the levitating woman.
Mr. Dobbins stuck around, offering his authority, and trying to manage us. Amalie was having none of it. She used her charms to persuade Mr. Dobbins to stay out of our way.
One evening, Amalie was ill. She claimed she could not go on that night. I kept pressing her to drink soda, but she claimed she was too sick. Her face was pale, and it worried me. I was afraid that all the money we had made and the sold tickets would have to be given back.
“What can I do?” I asked her.
“Come closer, my dearest,” she whispered, and then I felt her kiss my neck. Amalie then opened her mouth and latched on to my neck with razor-sharp teeth. I screamed, and as I did, my friend Mr. Dobbins rushed in, finding us in this compromising position.
Without thinking, he pulled me away, grabbing a knife from my tiny kitchen.
“Stay away from him!” Mr. Dobbins warned her.
I was still bleeding, but her pale face seemed to be getting its color back.
“What do you know of him?” she hissed at Mr. Dobbins.
“You are a demon. I have taken care of Vincent his entire life.”
“You are using him. Did you tell him what you were planning on doing?”
I watched on as her yellow eyes and fangs seemed to encapsulate her very existence. Her beautiful face was gone now. She looked like a snake as she crept towards Mr. Dobbins. I looked at him, wondering what he had been up to.
“I am only looking out for his best interest, which is more than I can say for you! I want you out of here immediately!”
“What of the circus? Didn’t they pay you to keep Vincent here for another three years?”
I looked at Mr. Dobbins. I felt betrayed. He knew I wished to leave the circus. How could he? I looked at Amalie, who I no longer recognized. I felt betrayed.
Then I saw Mr. Dobbins strike her.
I attacked him back, trying to pull him off her. It was too late. He had already shoved the knife inside her heart.
“Why did you do that?”
“Son, she was a vampire. She was going to kill you!”
“No, no, she wasn’t,” I knew that without a shadow of a doubt she loved me. The person that didn’t seem to love me any longer was Mr. Dobbins. He had grown selfish in his care of me. It wasn’t about love, but now it was money that drove him. I saw hatred and jealousy in his eyes now. I could do nothing except run from the tent and run from Mr. Dobbins and my lover Amalie. I felt like I had no one left in this world. It had been taken from me.
I ran into the woods, camping out for days. It was on the third night I began to feel strangely ill. I had no idea what had come over me, and I craved raw meat, and I craved blood.
Had she turned me? I knew now I had become a creature of the night.
I went back into town, went back to my trailer at the circus. Mr. Dobbins was there waiting on me still.
“Vincent, please let me explain.”
“I do not need to hear from you. I already know what you will say. I wish never to see you again.”
“Vincent, please-”
“GO!” I screamed, and as I did, my mouth felt strange. I could feel the teeth inside it, and I could see his heart under his skin. I didn’t want to kill him, but his blood was thick, and the smell was sweet like candy.
Mr. Dobbins backed away in fear. He ran off towards his car, and that was the last time I ever saw him.
I made amends with Amalie in my way. Her gift to me was everlasting life. I found my way to vegas after all. I was a one-person act able to levitate all on my own.
I had learned the hard way that money isn’t everything. I also learned that with money comes enemies, and eventually, I found I had many.
It was not long before another vampire faction found out I was showing the world my secrets during my magic act. Something that goes against the very pack mentality, and I was taken and murdered.
My soul never rests now. I only see the fury my spirit has for others, except Amalie. I loved her. I truly did. I treasure the times I had with her, and someday I hope we unite again.
I looked at the book, and it began to shake beneath my hands. I sat it on the coffee table in my parlor and watched it.
What gifts would it bestow now to me? I stood up when I didn’t see anything else happening, and I happened to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked ten years younger. Had the vampire gifted me my youth? I laughed heartedly and inwardly thanked Vincent. I was sorry for what had happened to him and Amalie.
I walked upstairs to my room and fell into my bed.
I woke with a start sometime later.
Bright lights encased me, and I was on a bed tied with leather straps. My body looked like that of a child. I heard banging outside a metal door I now lying in front of.
Was I asleep? The question was met with a cruel answer as a woman came in and injected me with something. I felt the needle, and I looked at her face. It was a nurse- the same nurse that had creeped me out time and time before. I looked at her tag. With a shattering realization, I knew I was now stuck inside this horrifying place, and this was no dream.
LIBERTY HILL LUNATIC ASYLUM
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2020.11.11 17:54 blackfridayswitch13 Window voyeur hotel

READ ME: PART 1
READ ME: PART 2
READ ME: PART 3
READ ME: PART 4
READ ME: PART 5
READ ME: PART 6
READ ME: PART 7
PART 8
I sat looking out my window as the rain fell. It seemed like it was always raining these days.
I curled inside my blankets and fell asleep.
I had strange dreams. It was honestly more impressive I had any dreams at all. I had not recalled a dream for years. Only, I would have been fine without remembering these dreams.
I dreamt of a vampire taking me by the neck. Just as he was about to put his teeth inside my vein, I woke in a horrifying sweat.
I took off my pajama top and tossed it to the ground. It was drenched in sweat. I stood up and shuffled to the bathroom, disoriented, and dizzy. I turned on the bathroom light and looked into the mirror. I was having trouble seeing well, so I threw cold water upon my face. I took a deep breath and looked at myself in the mirror.
“You old goat,” I said to myself.
Then from the corner of my eyes, I saw him. There was a shadow in my bedroom standing in the corner. I could feel its eyes on me, and I felt myself trembling.
“Who’s there?” I asked.
There was no response from it. It only came closer to the edge of the bed towards the door of my bathroom.
I saw a figure with a cape suddenly emerge into the light. All I could see were two shining amber eyes, and then with a quick flick of his finger, he wrapped the cape around his body, and he disappeared.
I stood in awe, although I am not entirely sure why, after all, I had seen these last few weeks.
I looked at my room, turning on a light, and I looked at the clock. It was just after midnight. I had only been asleep a little over an hour. I crawled inside my bed, trying to forget the figure, then I heard it. Music was coming from my parlor. It sounded like circus music, and I wrapped my pillow around my head until it got louder. Finally, I could take it no more, grabbed my glasses off my bedstand, putting them on, I walked downstairs, grabbing my robe as I went.
I threw on my robe as I rushed downstairs, expecting to find some teenagers partying outside my window, only it was coming from the bookcase where I housed the “READ ME” book. I sighed. I should have known by now.
I was usually okay with it, but right now, I wanted nothing more than to sleep! I was not in the mood to read stories and rescue sorry souls, create magic, or - as I had the thought that is when I saw it. My entire parlor turned into a circus tent.
I could see animals with dresses on, people tons of people in their best-dressed attire; there was a man on stilts, there was a dancing ballerina, a man running as he breathed fire at the crowds. In the corner were a fortune teller and a bearded lady. I looked at the sign, and it said Whitman and Briarton Circus.
I smiled a bit; it had been such a long time since I had seen a real circus. With all the animal rights activists shutting down the circus in most towns, it was fun to relive a living memory, if even for a second. This is what it had to be. I had not seen the Whitman and Briarton Circus act in over fifty years. I was a small child the last time I had seen the circus. I could smell the popcorn, see the clowns dancing, and for a second, I stood up ready to walk the long corridors of the tents set up so I could join the patrons. Only the images seemed to move away from me when I stepped closer to them. It was that, an illusion.
I saw it float by me, turning its crispy pages in mid-air, waiting on me to grab on to it. I took the book, and it fell into me hard and heavy.
“Fine, you win,” I said.
THE MAGICIAN
I looked at the pages of the book, and they seemed to grow before me. The pages spread out, and like a giant cape, they wrapped themselves around me. They seemed to grow in size until I could barely breathe. That is when I heard a loud popping of a gun going off.
I could smell the smoke, and then I saw it.
“You see here?” said a tall, thin man. “This is no ordinary rabbit.” he held up the rabbit.
Then I saw him look directly at me. For the first time, one of the characters in the book looked at me.
“Hello, Robert.”
I took a deep breath.
“Won’t you step out of your world and into ours? I think you will enjoy the story more if you join us.”
I smiled, and as I walked towards him, I found a seat and sat down in front of him.
He turned his attention away from me and towards the crowd of people dressed in clothing from another time. He seemed to forget me now and escaped back into what he was doing in another time and place.
I watched on as the crowd cheered when he presented a white handkerchief in place of the rabbit, putting the handkerchief back in his upside-down hat, and then pulled out the white rabbit again.
I smiled to myself. I looked around the small tent and noticed a man standing towards the back of the crowd. I kept watching him expecting him to do something. Instead, he did nothing but kept a sinister gaze on our friendly magician.
The magician noticed the man and abruptly ended his show.
“Well, that is all for now. Won’t you head on over to the main tent where you will see the acrobatic splendor of the tigers?”
The crowd got up, and the magician led them out of the tent as he held his hat upside down, and they put coins inside of it as they left.
When they were gone, the sinister-looking man came out of the shadows.
“Vincent, you have much to learn.”
“Oh, I saw you catch the end of the show. Did you like it?”
“Childs Play.”
“I did all the tricks you taught me back in Germany.”
“You should have grown by now. You are nothing more than a side show’s sideshow act. I have seen all I came to see.”
The young magician pleaded with the older man as I watched on.
“Please, Mr. Dobbins, can’t I show you some of the other tricks I have found?”
“If you must, but I am leaving to go back to my hotel. I’m tired now. I will be back tomorrow evening.”
“I wasn’t this bad always.” said the young magician to his white rabbit, who sat in its cage eating grasses.
A cold gust of wind blew into the tent and nearly knocked over the chairs. I could feel it’s chill, and then I saw her in the doorway. The young magician looked at her bewildered. A woman stood in a red sequin dress, she had fiery auburn hair and her lips looked like sweet cherries.
“Can I help you?” asked the young magician.
“I think you most certainly can. You are exactly what I have been looking for on this chilly night,” she said with a slight accent.
The young magician looked upon her bewildered and yet mesmerized. The woman whose beauty matched no women before or after stepped inside the tent and looked at the young man, and then he, without thinking, took her pale hand.
She looked at him, doe-eyed. “My name is Amalie; what is yours?”
“Vincent.”
“Perfect,” she said and kissed his cheek.
In a strange fit, if frenzy, he kissed her hard on the mouth. She smiled and then kissed him back, nearly taking off her clothes right there. I felt odd watching as though I were a voyeur. Then I saw her face change. Her eyes became serpent-like, and her mouth doubled open, and she sunk two layers of teeth into his neck. The young man screamed, and yet the euphoria he felt kept him from running away. Instead, he accepted all that she was taking from him.
“You’re no lady,” he whispered to her.
“No, I’m not. I am your salvation,” and she sunk her teeth inside of his neck again.
The pages that had wrapped themselves around me so warmly now opened back up and shrunk to their average size. I was holding the book in my hand when I looked down at the book.
Words fell before me now, in Vincent’s own words.
It was a night that I met Countess Amalie. I had forgotten what had taken place that very first night we met, but from that moment on, she was at my side. She never left me.
I had known Mr. Dobbins most of my life. He had taken me in when I was a child after my parents died in the war. He was our neighbor then, a funny older man that worked as a magician. Germans killed his wife and children during the war, so he was never quite the same. He took me in saving my life, teaching me everything that I knew. He could be a harsh critic. I had my life to thank him for. I didn’t like giving up on my dreams, so I worked hard as a magician. I strived to create new acts to hold the interest of anyone that would watch me.
Mr. Dobbins remained unimpressed. Then I met Countess Amalie, and that changed.
Mr. Dobbins had come back the very next evening, just as he promised, and this time Amalie met him at the tent opening.
“You must be Mr. Dobbins.”
“Yes, what is it to you?”
“I am Vincent’s pretty helper for the evening.”
“Oh, well, let us get on with it then.”
Amalie walked over to me and took my hand, “Tonight we shall levitate.”
“What? I have never done that before.”
“Watch and learn. Just say abracadabra, and I will float all on my own.” she smiled at me, kissing my cheek.
I did as told, and the crowd, now sitting before me watching on in amazement. Mr. Dobbins, my teacher, watched on as well, expecting failure.
“Ladies and gentlemen, won’t you meet the amazing Amalie. She will be my helper tonight. She has extraordinary talents. Did you know she can fly?” I asked the crowd, and Amalie smiled onward, bowing demurely.
Mr. Dobbins crossed his arms and stood back with a look of pure disgust and disdain.
However, I didn’t let it deter me, and I set up the blocks, but Amalie told me not just to say the words.
“Abracadabra!”
In one motion, Amalie did a summersault in mid-air. She stayed up in the air and then began to float. She floated up higher and higher and then flew over the crowd of people who screamed in excitement.
Then she floated back down slowly back to the stage, and I took her hand, and we stood there bowing.
It was magnificent. I don’t know how she was able to do it.
When the show was over, Mr. Dobbins came over to me beaming.
“Vincent, I am so proud of you. However, did you do it?”
“A true magician never gives up his secrets,” Amalie spoke to Mr. Dobbins, situating herself in front of me.
“Ah, yes, very true. I’m sorry old boy, won’t you let me take you to dinner at the hotel I’m staying at?”
“I’d like that very much,” I said
“Amalie, you must join us,” said Mr. Dobbins.
“I couldn’t. I’m on my very own special diet that keeps my figure what you see here. You two go and enjoy yourselves.” She kissed my cheek.
When we left and were in Mr. Dobbin’s car, we drove off to the city. The lights were delightful, and I was happy to be in his presence. He had grown so much like a father to me over the years.
“Tell me, Vincent, how did you and Amalie meet?”
I couldn’t recall. For once in my life, I tried and could not remember how we had met.
“Oh, you know circus life, you meet a lot of people.”
“Yes, I suppose. Here we are.” He said, pulling into the parking lot of a grand hotel. He had a valet park his car, and we went inside to the main restaurant.
We were sitting down, and Mr. Dobbins couldn’t seem to take the smile off his face.
“I am so proud of you. I was worried for a while about how you would turn out after the war. Your parents meant so much to me. You mean so much to me.”
“I know that. I am thankful for all you have done for me. Truly I am. Although I have to say working in the circus isn’t my ideal job. I hope I can have my show in Vegas. As soon as Amalie and I make enough money, we are out of here.”
Mr. Dobbins had tears in his eyes, and I ordered us some ale, and he patted me on the back.
Later that night, when I got back to my trailer, Amalie was missing. She had been with me for weeks, and yet tonight, she was gone. Where had she gone off to?
Shortly after midnight, a figure appeared over my bed. I turned on the light next to my bed, and there stood Amalie with a severe expression on her face. She was looking at me, but not in my eyes. She was staring at my neck.
“Amalie, are you alright?”
She seemed to snap out of it, and a small grin fell over her face. I noticed her white blouse and jeans had blood on them. She didn’t say anything. She just crawled inside the bed next to me.
That afternoon I busied myself helping out some of the other circus workers while Amalie slept. I couldn’t help but wonder about Amalie. She was beautiful in every way, perfect even. She seemed to love me, and honestly, I couldn’t recall when I didn’t love her, but she was a stranger to me.
Amalie and I were growing to be successful, and people from far and wide came to see our sideshow act expecting to see the levitating woman.
Mr. Dobbins stuck around, offering his authority, and trying to manage us. Amalie was having none of it. She used her charms to persuade Mr. Dobbins to stay out of our way.
One evening, Amalie was ill. She claimed she could not go on that night. I kept pressing her to drink soda, but she claimed she was too sick. Her face was pale, and it worried me. I was afraid that all the money we had made and the sold tickets would have to be given back.
“What can I do?” I asked her.
“Come closer, my dearest,” she whispered, and then I felt her kiss my neck. Amalie then opened her mouth and latched on to my neck with razor-sharp teeth. I screamed, and as I did, my friend Mr. Dobbins rushed in, finding us in this compromising position.
Without thinking, he pulled me away, grabbing a knife from my tiny kitchen.
“Stay away from him!” Mr. Dobbins warned her.
I was still bleeding, but her pale face seemed to be getting its color back.
“What do you know of him?” she hissed at Mr. Dobbins.
“You are a demon. I have taken care of Vincent his entire life.”
“You are using him. Did you tell him what you were planning on doing?”
I watched on as her yellow eyes and fangs seemed to encapsulate her very existence. Her beautiful face was gone now. She looked like a snake as she crept towards Mr. Dobbins. I looked at him, wondering what he had been up to.
“I am only looking out for his best interest, which is more than I can say for you! I want you out of here immediately!”
“What of the circus? Didn’t they pay you to keep Vincent here for another three years?”
I looked at Mr. Dobbins. I felt betrayed. He knew I wished to leave the circus. How could he? I looked at Amalie, who I no longer recognized. I felt betrayed.
Then I saw Mr. Dobbins strike her.
I attacked him back, trying to pull him off her. It was too late. He had already shoved the knife inside her heart.
“Why did you do that?”
“Son, she was a vampire. She was going to kill you!”
“No, no, she wasn’t,” I knew that without a shadow of a doubt she loved me. The person that didn’t seem to love me any longer was Mr. Dobbins. He had grown selfish in his care of me. It wasn’t about love, but now it was money that drove him. I saw hatred and jealousy in his eyes now. I could do nothing except run from the tent and run from Mr. Dobbins and my lover Amalie. I felt like I had no one left in this world. It had been taken from me.
I ran into the woods, camping out for days. It was on the third night I began to feel strangely ill. I had no idea what had come over me, and I craved raw meat, and I craved blood.
Had she turned me? I knew now I had become a creature of the night.
I went back into town, went back to my trailer at the circus. Mr. Dobbins was there waiting on me still.
“Vincent, please let me explain.”
“I do not need to hear from you. I already know what you will say. I wish never to see you again.”
“Vincent, please-”
“GO!” I screamed, and as I did, my mouth felt strange. I could feel the teeth inside it, and I could see his heart under his skin. I didn’t want to kill him, but his blood was thick, and the smell was sweet like candy.
Mr. Dobbins backed away in fear. He ran off towards his car, and that was the last time I ever saw him.
I made amends with Amalie in my way. Her gift to me was everlasting life. I found my way to vegas after all. I was a one-person act able to levitate all on my own.
I had learned the hard way that money isn’t everything. I also learned that with money comes enemies, and eventually, I found I had many.
It was not long before another vampire faction found out I was showing the world my secrets during my magic act. Something that goes against the very pack mentality, and I was taken and murdered.
My soul never rests now. I only see the fury my spirit has for others, except Amalie. I loved her. I truly did. I treasure the times I had with her, and someday I hope we unite again.
I looked at the book, and it began to shake beneath my hands. I sat it on the coffee table in my parlor and watched it.
What gifts would it bestow now to me? I stood up when I didn’t see anything else happening, and I happened to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked ten years younger. Had the vampire gifted me my youth? I laughed heartedly and inwardly thanked Vincent. I was sorry for what had happened to him and Amalie.
I walked upstairs to my room and fell into my bed.
I woke with a start sometime later.
Bright lights encased me, and I was on a bed tied with leather straps. My body looked like that of a child. I heard banging outside a metal door I now lying in front of.
Was I asleep? The question was met with a cruel answer as a woman came in and injected me with something. I felt the needle, and I looked at her face. It was a nurse- the same nurse that had creeped me out time and time before. I looked at her tag. With a shattering realization, I knew I was now stuck inside this horrifying place, and this was no dream.
LIBERTY HILL LUNATIC ASYLUM
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2020.02.06 20:02 YourMomsFluids Hotel Security Confessions 1

I worked as Director of Security for 2 years at a hotel. It was my job to be in the shadows and places people normally weren’t which always gave me plausible deniability in the event someone questioned why I happened to be somewhere. The names are changed, but the ages are real. I saw a lot of just about everything, even participated in a few things along the way. But this is just one of the voyeur stories I have.
One particular evening I was coming around the side of our pool building. It was inside behind a mostly glass facade, but being 1030pm they were like mirrors to anyone inside as I learned though a few months of testing and observing when I was in there.
The hot tub was where most people decided they wanted to fool around, and I would sit in a closed maintenance section and wait until I saw the tell tale sings of a couple that I knew was probably going fool around. I don’t know why they got so easy to spot, but after a while they just do. I would then sneak down to the windows that were about 2ft away where I had a hide in an area off limits to the public and somewhere none of the staff ever went anyway.
Most all of the couples that I saw would make out for a bit, maybe a quick hand job and then lose their nerve or someone would come to the pool desk and they would stop. Which was usually disappointing, but that’s the life of a voyeur sometimes.
One evening I was not really watching the hot tub for action because it was a slow winter night. During my rounds I came around the corner of the pool building and looked down like I normally did to check the hot tub and looked right into the face of a 22yo brunette, her small A-cup tits and puffy nipples hanging just outside of her suit in someone’s face. There was a slight bounce to her tits I caught as she bounced up and down. We will call her Beth to simplify.
Because I wasn’t expecting anyone to be there I would have been busted straight off, but by the grace of god her eyes were closed in that moment and she didn’t see Me just outside the window, so I was able to get back behind the building to my place to see. Oh did I get a view...
I had seen her earlier in the evening with her SO and another couple. The other couple was slightly older, probably in their late 20s or so, and I had already made note of the room numbers to take a look at their windows on my rounds anyway because the other chick was 28(as I found out) and that kind of a slender sexy with dirty blond hair. (We will call her Jennifer)
Because of the depth and the way it sits it’s hard to see who someone is in the hot tub with, and I had assumed she was riding her boyfriend. What I saw when I got settled in was not her SO, but the chick from the other couple and they were grinding on one another in the hot tub and I was the only one with a view.
At first Beth was bouncing slightly, almost unnoticeably up and down. What gave it away was he face. Eyes closed, head back with the mischievous grin as she straddled Jennifer’s leg underwater. She was working back and forth on her leg or hand underwater.
Jennifer then reached up and began biting her nipples gently and rubbing her small, puffy tits. This obviously was enough to cause Beth to orgasm, because I could hear the moan though the weatherproof glass as her face contorted and she slumped down against Jennifer’s tits.
I was absolutely motionless watching this, feeling as if I was floating there 2ft away, totally invisible to them and everyone else. You still feel paranoid, vulnerable to being seen and then subsequently judged by someone, even when you know you’re good. It’s the adrenaline, it pounds in your ears.
I continued to watch as Beth tugged her own nipples one last time, he face giving that last little bit of pleasure. She then covered her little tits slid off and sat beside Jennifer in the hot tub. I was rock hard and knowing I was in a relatively safe place, decided to pull my cock out because I was almost too painful now.
Beth reached down in the water and, what I presume, started fingering Jennifer. One of the best things about being a voyeur isn’t necessarily seeing the sex, but seeing the private moment and the pleasure on someone’s face. Hearing the moans is someone. That was about the only view I got, but got to listen to Jennifer gently wimpier though the window, her face contorting but trying not to give away what was a happening beneath the bubbles.
Jennifer reached down momentarily, and I thought we was going to stop her friend there from continuing. But she wasn’t, she wanted to move across the hot tub so they were facing me and not the courtyard of people on the other side of the pool building.
I was getting the best view I could of both of their faces, Jennifer letting herself go now, knowing all anyone could see was the back of her head. (Or so she thought)
Between the adrenaline and seeing what I was, I wasn’t able to last long at all. I could now make out Beth’s fingers beneath the water, running into her friends bathing suit bottom, the thin fabric moving up and down.
I could only fantasize at what she was doing to Jennifer’s pussy. Rubbing her clit? Fingering her wet hole? But what made me blow my load on the ground was Jennifer’s orgasm, that secret way women orgasm, her body shuddering continuously, her eyes rolled back and head laid on the pool deck looking straight up in ecstasy will forever be etched into my brain.
I saw the 4 of them later that evening having dinner together in our restaurant and had to wonder if either of their SO’s knew what they had done earlier... I know I did.
I have more of these, quite a few actually. If response is positive I’ll keep posting more. Enjoy!
Edit: Removed Errant Emoji
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2019.01.04 00:33 ray_ray69 Voyeur window hotel

I'm a 24M voyeur living in North Dallas willing to host a couple this weekend. We can meet up at a hotel and can have a fun night tonight, or this weekend. Travel is not an issue for me. If you are exhibitionists, we can find a place where I can watch from either a window, a car, or anything else.
We can start by meeting in public so we are all comfortable. Open to whatever level of excitement y'all are comfortable with. Message me and we can trade pics. Open to all ages and races. Thanks
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2018.07.24 06:13 y_naught- Hotel voyeur window

Okay, so today I think I figured out a deeper level to the story of the album, and unlike most red-yarn corkboard theories, this one genuinely works really really well, has a LOT of evidence, and completely changes the album for me.
I was showing some friends of mine the new video, and one of them, who doesn't really listen to the band or know much about the album, half jokingly mentioned that he got a vibe that reminded him of H. H. Holmes's story. Who, if you're unfamiliar with him, is a guy who ran a hotel that he basically turned into a murder machine to kill his guests.
Now I know that seems like an out of the blue and crazy comparison, but stay with me. It's not quite where I'm going with this.
We thought it was an interesting idea, and it inspired us to put on our tin foil hats and listen to the album together. What we pieced together really surprised me.
Essentially, our thesis is that the protagonist of the album DEFINITELY monitors and spies on the guests of the hotel in a creepy ass horror movie way (much like Gerald Foos's Voyeur Motel). And, just maybe, if you're willing to make a small stretch, should they find out or he gets bored with them, he may kill them too. Insane, I know. Hear me out.
[Link to that story here, definitely give it a read: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gerald_Foos ]
Some points from the videos:

And the biggest point from the videos?
Points from the music:
(some of these are kind of vague on their own but all contribute to a big picture- also a common theme is a modern alex looking back at this as past events and feeling remorse)
I know, it's a lot, but I implore you to listen to the album and watch the videos again with this in mind. It really really adds to it, at least for me.
P.S. Thanks Mars
P.P.S. RIP Alex's Hair
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2018.07.22 01:28 valeriestorm1234 Hotel voyeur window

This is going to be short and sweet. I'll figure it out in the morning. Right now I'm in a hotel room trying to get my thoughts together. Everything can be edited and better written in the morning as right now my thoughts are not clear, my head is still reeling.
I drove all the way up here to meet with him. Long distance relationships are difficult at best, and I wanted to surprise him with a visit. Show up with a ton of food, wine, sweet kisses, and spend a week making love with my sweetheart. Anything he wanted to do was fine by me as long as the day ended with his strong arms around me again. I missed that physical closeness so much. Phone calls, e-mails, messages are all lovely. But nothing beats the close physical contact of being with the man you love. I waited until I was ten minutes out until I call him with the news, just in case he wanted to pick up the house a bit. Maybe he might want jump in the shower, check the funds in the bank, you know, surprise him, but not show up completely out of the blue looking needy.
He sounded surprised, and not in a good way. I should have called sooner I silently chastised myself. He always loved surprise visits, dropped in on me unannounced many times when we lived in the same town. He had a key to my apartment and would come and go as he pleased. We both did. Moving fluidly in and out of each other's lives. He might show up with flowers and Chinese food, or just as easily scare the shit out of me by slipping into the shower behind me as I would be blindly soaping my hair. I was his, he was mine. No question. No boundaries.
I thought I heard voices in the background, but of course I assumed his kids were over for a visit, or a TV left on. That female intuition whispers in my ear but I shrugged it off..."Sweetie, I'll be there in your driveway in roughly 90 minutes or so, are you up for an impromptu visit? I was thinking an afternoon hike today, showers together, dinner, a movie, and the spend all day together tomorrow just snuggled up and making plans to do nothing. Whaddya say?" I laughed. Clothes rustling in the background, more whispers. Anxious whispers. Me, "Hon? Are the kids up this weekend? We can take them swimming instead?" A moment of silence, more rustling. My heart is starting to race, my brain automatically thinking stupid things. He answers after an uncomfortable pause. "That's awesome babe! An hour or so gives me just enough time to tidy up a bit, wash some laundry, pick up a few groceries, and hop in the shower. This is great! Can't wait to see you! Kisses! I love you honey." Keep in mind I'm really ten minutes out. Well, now less than five.
There was something different about his voice...an undertone of urgency? Frustration perhaps? Maybe these months separated by the miles had erased some of the ease of familiarity that was ours in the city. His job temporarily pulled him to this beautiful country town in the Ozarks to work on a building project. The separation has been hard on both of us, but the financial opportunity too fantastic to pass up he said. This one year assignment would bring us peace and security. A home, a bigger paycheck, a promotion, and if everything falls into place as planned?? Marriage. A child of our own. His kids live with his ex-wife but stay with him often for visits. Have even stayed with me on occasion. I'll leave their names out now, knowing what I know, but I love them. His young daughter just turned nine, his teenage son already a handful at fifteen. Great kids. Back to the story. I recall that I asked him if the kids were up this weekend. I don't recall if he answered that question or not. Did he? Forget the wine and fast food. I'm driving straight in. Surely I'm wrong. I need to shut that stupid women's intuition voice down NOW! Not every man is like this. Certainly not Kevin. Not my Kevin.
I rounded the corner just in time to see his big red manly pick-up truck, her tiny blue top-less mini car. A mini-cooper I think. I don't know the names of vehicles. Who cares about the fucking vehicles right now. My beautiful 6'2" tan, red-headed flawless beast of a man cut quite the picture in the early afternoon sun. He could steal any girl's breath away. Think Micheal C Hall on Dexter. Ginger, chiseled, but just a little older. Shirtless, worn blue jeans, perfect. Except for the fact that he was walking holding hands with a beautiful young girl half his age. A girl that I had never seen before. Walking so very, very close. My heart caught in my throat. Should I bother to describe her? You know the type. Young, blonde, gorgeous and perfect. Tan, glowing skin with non-stop curves. Breasts that came dangerously close to bursting out of her tight black tank top and tight blue jean shorts just like I wore back in my sexy days. His golden retriever Heidi happily close to both of them, flag tail waving high. Signs of familiarity? I was 3 houses down and I slowed to watch the encounter that I didn't really want to see, but I forced myself to watch, to be certain. I can't assume. This could be completely innocent. He went to whisper something in her ear and as his hand slipped down to cup her breast in his hand, her voice rang out in musical laughter. She tossed her hair back and his mouth found hers covering her lips to drown out her laughter in a kiss that should have been mine.
A short honk behind me snapped me back to reality. I'm still on the road. I am now an outsider looking in. A voyeur spying on something that I thought was mine. There was no anger flooding through me. No sadness. I didn't have a tear in my eye, I don't think I could cry at that moment if someone had paid me to perform the actions of the betrayed fiance. Nothing but an icy numbness as if glacial waters had begun to seep through my veins. A second honk. Both of their heads swivel towards me to question this car paused a few houses down that is now blocking traffic. I'm not prepared to deal with this just yet. I'm sure he didn't recognize me. I ease on the gas and move pass their questioning looks. He half-turns to watch me drive away as if on some level he half suspects that just might have been me. Yeah, that wasn't his niece. No explanation needed.
I'm on these soft pillows letting the cool air of the hotel rush over me. I've slept a few hours. I entertained the idea of listening to his lies, the confrontation, more lies, etc. It would be lies wouldn't it? After all if he was going to end our relationship, telling me would have been the decent thing to do. That should have happened well before this point. No this is deceit pure and simple. He wanted his little fling, and it seemed to me perhaps it had been going on more than a few days. I don't know. It doesn't matter at this point. I've decided that it isn't worth the drama. Or investing any more time. Surprising really, how fast five years of feelings for someone, all that invested time and emotion, can turn to cold ice after witnessing a betraying.
I shouldn't have checked my messages. 42 from him. Voice messages. Text messages. Missed phone calls. "Where are you?" "Are you ok? Did you decide to get a hotel instead honey? Please let me know." "Can't wait to see you baby! I'm waiting for you." That last message included a picture of himself in bed under the covers obviously supporting a massive erection. Yeah. I'm not sure how many places that erection has been now. I prefer being single to sharing. She can have him. If he will cheat so easily on me, she will find herself in the same situation soon enough. I'm going back to sleep. 47 messages now. I need sleep more than drama. I pushed the delete button on my phone, blocking his number, blocking him from my life.
.......
I am cleaning out my sister's files on her computer and I find this. I'm the one sitting here stunned now. We are going through her belongings deciding what to keep as family momentos of our precious Connie. What to keep, what to give to charity. She may not have been able to cry but I am bawling my eyes out as I write this. That bastard. She called me on her way home as she left the Ozarks. She. Never. Said. A. Word. Fucking Kevin. She talked as she drove, talking about gardening on her week off instead since Kevin had been called in to work. Barely mentioned him in fact. She told me twice she loved me. She never does that. Always so reserved with her emotions our Connie. A hug. A sweet smile. That's about all the emotional sharing we could expect.
The rental car company called us because she was late but we had been trying to reach her at least 3 days by that point. Kevin was actually the one that tipped us off something was wrong. Said she never made it there to his house, so unlike her to not respond to messages, and he had left hundreds. Soon we all had.
Searcy County Arkansas Sheriff's department found her car at the bottom of a very steep cliff. Several hundred feet straight down a rocky embankment well hidden in the pine trees. There were no skid marks. It was assumed that perhaps she had swerved to hit a deer and gone right off into an abyss. Were it not for the rental cars reverse location pinpoint system, she may not have been found for much, much longer. It wasn't pretty. I didn't have to view her body, but my parents did. They said animals had gotten in through the smashed windows and eaten much of her face. Her eyes were gone, but that grimace of a smile was beyond horrible. Her lips were gone. The paperwork reads something like vehicular death, accident, traumatic injury. My parents have copies but I don't want to read them. It comforts me that her skull was crushed on impact and she didn't suffer.
But now, sitting here with her laptop in my hands reading this...this....event that occurred between she and Kevin I can't help but wonder. She may not have suffered physically from the impact but I believe her soul was crushed from the betrayal. Did she mean to send this? Were we meant to find this later in order to gain some understanding of it all? My dear sweet sister my heart breaks for you now even though you are long past feeling anything. Rest in peace my darling sister. Rest in peace.
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2017.10.03 16:45 RnB419 Our first experience in the Lifestyle

The wife (38F) and I (39M) had been planning a trip to the club for a few weeks. It was everything we expected and more. We can't wait to go back.
We have been married for 15 years. She had more sexual experience than me when we met. She had been with a few guys and she was my first. About 5 years ago, she brought up the idea of a sex club, but it took us many years of conversations and role playing before we were able to commit to exploring further. We eventually decided to jump in and drive 3 hours to the Body Shop in Canton, Ohio so we wouldn't run into anyone we knew.
We only had one guideline for each other. Anything that was going to happen, was going to happen with both of our agreement. Either one of us could stop things at any time. We were still conflicted on same room vs separate. She wasn't ready to physically watch me have sex with anyone else, but I wanted to watch her if she did.
Upon arriving, a couple of single males made friends with me and my very outgoing wife. After hanging out for a while, the topic of sex was brought up with one of them. The wife and I had a quick sidebar and we both decided that she should take him to a play room and I should tag along. My intentions were to fulfill a fantasy and watch my wife get it on. In the back, the (much) younger guy got to work and I sat there and enjoyed the show. The Mrs. was enjoying herself but it soon became clear that the other guy wasn't going to get her to finish. Being the good hubby that I am, I non verbally let the other guy know that I would be joining. I got her to spin around and we ended up spirtroasting her. It was an amazing experience for both the wife and I. After the MMF, we went back to the dance area and started mingling again. I expressed to my wife that I felt like she was focusing more of her energy on the single guys and less on me and "our" experience. She agreed. A little while later I needed to excuse myself to visit the restroom. Upon my return, she was chatting with an older couple that we had met earlier in the night. As I sit down and join, and the wife says "she wants to fuck you". I give it a few seconds of thought and delightfully agree to take a hot cougar into the back. In the back, I enjoyed only the second woman I've ever been with. It was amazing, but different. As I'm pounding away, I hear some loud moaning from down the hall. I stop and tell the cougar, "That's my wife". We focused on finishing up, and afterward, we quickly parted ways. She went back to the dance floor and I headed down the hall. I found them in a voyeur room that had a small window in the door. I stood there and watched until he finished. I knocked on the door and he let me in. The wife was all smiles. The other guy was too and quickly left. I ask "how'd that happen?" She said that I was taking forever and somehow she ended up at the glory hole with this guy from earlier and from there things just progressed and she thought they should fuck. I expressed to her that I wasn't mad, but it should have been run by me first. If I wasn't around, it should have waited until I returned. Plus, I wanted to try out the glory hole! lol
Upon returning to our hotel room, we had amazing sex. It was nice to explore our limits, but it is great to make love to your soulmate too.
We've had many conversations in the last few days about our experiences. It made her feel sexy that no one cared about her mom bod. She was worried about how we would feel trying to separate love and sex. It was easier then either of us thought it would be. She's not jealous knowing that I fucked someone else. I'm not jealous that she fucked two random guys. We both feel like we need to do this again. There's so much more to experience!
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2017.03.30 20:09 throw-away-wide-open Hotel voyeur window

I recently had a couple of experiences at 2 different hotels and am curious to see what the consensus of this crowd is.
For the record I love hotels and always leave my curtains open. I realize that some people may see me and I don't really care. I don't do anything inappropriate but normal routines can put me in compromising situations. I don't assume privacy.
However, other people leave their curtains open too. Certainly that's no invitation to watch but it also opens them to being seen.
As one who is very comfortable with exhibition of my own volition I take my chances. But as a voyeur I'm going to watch if it's right there. Couples get adventurous at hotels and recently I've seen plenty. Am I "wrong" to observe this? Should I look away? It's not like I'm hiding in bushes outside windows. But at the same time there's nothing on the hotel television that is quite as compelling.
What's the verdict on showing/watching from hotel windows?
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2017.01.04 14:32 BrassHound Hotel voyeur window

This was not how she wanted to spend her birthday; a soulless hotel room, a strange city, and no friends or family. Sure, she had called them, but that's not the same. The girl at the reception desk got her a little cupcake with a candle on top to cheer her up, which was nice.
The thing that got her down most was how alone she felt. She needed to fix that. She went through her luggage, but all she packed were office attire, nothing that would turn heads at a bar or club. Thank God she did pack her lingerie, wearing a sexy set underneath her boring and plain clothes made her feel sexy and empowered, and best of all, it made her have a secret noone knows about. It'd have to do, she picked out a half cup bra, a red and black thong, and stockings that went all the way up to her wonderfully round butt. She put on a white blouse and buttoned it so it shows just the right amount of cleavage, right on that fine border between slutty and sexy. A navy pencil skirt accents the curve of her ass perfectly, especially when she's wearing those high heels.
She takes a cab to a bar the receptionist recommended, and inside she can already feel the looks being thrown at her. Good, she sexed up her business clothes enough to get the attention she desires. She orders a whiskey, neat, and scopes out her potential preys. Too clean, too scruffy, too eager, a lot of guys, but none fit the bill. "Here you go, ma'am, courtesy of that gentleman over there." She looks down and finds another whiskey, she looks in the direction the bartender has nodded, and a guy lifts his glass. She responds in kind and he comes over. He works for a travel agency and he travels around to scope out potential destinations. He and his friends are checking out a cabin just outside town, by the lake. She hears the words, but it's more interested in his physique. Not too muscular, not far, he takes care of himself, and his friends don't look so bad either. It is her birthday after all.... she excuses herself, and in the bathroom unbuttons one extra button, fixes her make-up, and walks straight to the guy and his 4 friends. She leans over on the table and says "guys, today is my birthday. I'm all alone in this godforsaken town, and my boss stuffed me in a hotel that's even more boring than the color grey. How would you like it if we went back to your cabin?" To make her intentions clear, she runs her hands down her blouse. "If you guys are up for it, of course." They look at each other, and one stutters "do you mean..." And he points at all of the guys, and then at her. She nods. "It's been on my bucket list since forever and tonight... I think one just won't suffice and toys won't do it either. I'll let you guys talk it over while I get some more drinks." By the time she gets back, they greet her with 5 big grins. “Easy boys, just drink your drinks, this is happening. No need to rush things. Just to be clear about tonight: there'll be no kissing and no hitting, kicking or biting. I assume you all have plenty of condoms with you, there'll be no penetrating without them. Tonight's safeword is petunia, if I say it, everything stops, understand?” Everyone nods and after they finished their drinks, they go outside to find a stretched limo waiting outside. “One of the perks of my job, is that I can rent this and claim it as a business expense,” she says.
Inside, she grabs the champagne and pops the cork. “To a wonderful and memorable night!” One of the guys reaches over to grab the glasses, but she stops him. “We don't need glasses silly.” And she pours some over her blouse. The cold champagne presses her blouse against her skin, her nipples become rock hard. “Oops” she smiles and pours some more down her cleavage. “Who wants to clean that up for me?” One by one, they guys drink champagne from her tits and she loves the attention. “Okay, my turn, get your dicks out.” The guys are a little hesitant, as if they only now realized that tonight means they need to get naked in front of each other. Luckily, she understands the situation, and grabs the first guy by his dick, looks him dead in the eyes and says “I want this, covered in champagne, in my mouth. Give it to me.” She undoes his belt, opens his fly, pulls out his hard cock, pours champagne over it and starts sucking it. The others follow suit at the sight of her wonderful oral skills.
After she had her taste of the fifth serving of champagne, she sits up and asks the limo driver how long until the cabin. “We've passed the cabin twice now, ma'am, but you seemed preoccupied, I didn't want to run the moment for these fine gentlemen, so I took the liberty of driving around until you were good and ready.” She smiles and says “that's very considerate of you.” “To be perfectly honest, I was also enjoying the view of your ass sticking up in the air while you were blowing them.” she blushes, she hadn't thought about the driver being able to look in, but the thought of a voyeur excited her more than she thought it would, even if she was about to partake in a gangbang. “Guys, you go in, and prepare the cabin, grab a shower and put on some music, while I handle everything with the driver.”
The guys pop out of the car and into the cabin, as she beckons the driver to come and have a seat in the back. When he opens the door, she's on her knees on the floor and he has a great view at her amazing cleavage. She turns around. “So you like my ass? Hmm?”and she carefully and slowly bends over. She looks over her shoulder to gauge his reaction, and manages to slap his hand just before he grabs her ass. “No touching.” She turns around again, points at his crotch and says “out, get it out.” He whips out his Johnson and she immediately regrets her decision. By the gods, it's huge. How on earth is she going to blow that. He comforts her and tells her not to be afraid. She starts with just kissing the tip and fondling the balls. Slowly, she puts it farther and farther down her throat, ignoring her gagreflex. She can feel him hardening, and she increases the tempo until finally he explodes in her mouth, ejaculating his cum right down her throat. “Thanks for the great service,” she says with a wink and steps out.
As she gets into the cabin, she hears sensual music, the fireplace is burning and one of the guys offers her a glass of whiskey. They take a seat on the floor around the fireplace, looks around and notices the tension in the room. “So, how do you guys normally do this?” She says jokingly. The guys laugh, the ice is broken. “Well, we thought we let you decide how and with who we get started, since you're the one who came up with this idea.” “Well, to be honest this is my first time in a gangbang as well, so I hadn't planned much further ahead than ‘get a couple of guys together and have fun’. I got you guys together and we had some fun in the limo, right?” everyone nods. She gets up, swaying her hips to the rythm of the music, and starts dancing around the room. All eyes are fixated on her curves, which she moves so well. The music hits a guitar solo, and she takes it as a cue to start unbuttoning her shirt to the rythm, as if the guitarist is using her buttons as strings. Her hands run over her breasts, her nipples are fully erect despite the high temperature in the cabin. As the solo build to its crescendo, she starts to move more vigorously, and ultimately throws her blouse in the face of one of the guys.
As the singer mutters his sweet gentle words, she opens her skirt, and as she turns around the room she slowly pulls it down, revealing her round asscheecks underneath. She's the centre of attention and she's loving it. It's her goddamn birthday and she should be the center of attention. She keeps turning around, bending over from time to time to give them a good view of her tits and ass, and she sees everyone has got a bulge in their pants. She randomly selects her first victim, walks over to him, turns around and drops her ass in his lap and starts grinding her ass on his dick. She can hear his moans and sees the eager eyes of the rest as she looks around. With a grin on her face she stands up, grabs the guy by his hair and buries his face between her cheeks. He sticks out his tongue and licks her asshole like she hoped he would.
Another guy stands up, walks up to her, lifts her up and lays her down on the coffee table. He rips her panties apart to unveil her soaking wet pussy, and starts licking up her sweet nectar. Another takes his place on her other end and gently starts fucking her throat. He's by no means small, but compared to that gargantuan monster she just throated, this is the easy as pie. Her hands are guided to two more dicks and she wonders what the fifth one is up to. She can hear him walk out the room, come back and walk around the table where she's being displayed and used. She can hear “cheers” and ”thanks” and “aw yeah, great thinking.” The guy between her legs even paused for a minute…
She gets up, looks around and asks “what was that just now?” They smile and tell her they just popped a Viagra, so she can enjoy tonight for a bit longer if she wants to. “I like the way you think.” she responds and gets down on all fours. She climbs up on one of the sofas and seductively sticks her ass out as an open invitation. The guys have no problem reading this request and they form a line behind her as the first starts fucking her. He quickly cums, less than 40 seconds, she hoped for something better, but they're excited, she thinks, so let's not jump to conclusions yet. The second one isn't much better and third and fourth were actually quicker. The fifth guy lasted a bit longer, but not much. At least his size was something she enjoyed. The second round was a huge improvement, the first guy took his sweet time and fucked her to climax once, and as she was still quivering, he grabbed her tits and fucked her even harder until she screamed and cried. This was going great, this was the feeling she was looking for. She was still trembling even she felt the next dick going in her soaking wet pussy. He had a firm grip on her hips as he pounded her relentlessly. This felt so good, he was playing her g spot like a goddamn fiddle, she was cumming do hard and so fast, she stopped counting. It was like she was a beach and waves of extacy kept hitting her. The only brief pause she got was when they switched, and there she went again. In her mind she saw herself, on her knees wearing her stockings and heels, getting fucked by an endless amount of dicks.
She wanted more. She needed more. “One of you flat on the ground.” She crawled on top of him, ran her fingers through her pussy sand used it to lube her asshole with her fingers. First one, then two, and a third. She puts the dick in her pussy slowly, and looks over her shoulder to the next guy in line. “In my ass, please fuck my ass.” She feels his cock slide in and the sensation of those two big dicks inside is wonderful. The waves start coming again, lasting longer and more intense this time. She can't even tell when they switch turns anymore, she's just riding the waves of extacy, feeling the thrusts down her ass and pussy, sometimes in unison, other times in two different rythms. It doesn't matter, it feels good, being this filled up, getting railed this hard. She needs to stop, she can't take it anymore, but the dicks keep coming, there's no end to it, how are they doing this? She wants to take a break, but this just feels so good, she can't stop. Finally, she caves. “S...S...S….stop, please, I need a break.” As she climbs on to the couch, she sees the wet spots on the carpet. With a questioning look, she looks around. “That's all you, babe, you started squirting about 20 minutes ago. You were way into it.” “But I never squirt…” “you did now”.
One of the guys puts a blindfold over her eyes.”what's this?” She asks. “Well, since you like it rough, we're going to turn it up a notch.” He answers as he picks her up. When she gets put down again, she feels a hard flat surface under her. Her head is free to move, her feet are on the ground, it must be the dining table. A firm hand holds her down, while she feels ropes getting bound around her wrists and ankles. She can feel the rope pulling on her ankles, and she struggles to keep her legs together, just to play it hard. Three fingers enter her still wett pussy and all will power and strength go out the window. Her legs are pulled apart as she can feel her arms getting restrained as well. There she is, a little fucktoy for these five guys. The last inch of control was just lost, she's at the mercy of five guys on Viagra and she's loving it. She can even feel her juices flowing down her thighs just from thinking about what they're about to do. A gentle hand cups her chin and she obediently opens her mouth and welcomes the hard cock in her throat. “Don't you dare puke on my dick.”she hears from above her as his dick goes down her throat until she can feel his stomach against her forehead and his balls on her chin. A stinging pain runs through her left asscheeck. She has to fight the urge to scream, or worse, bite down. Another on the right. Simultaneously. She can feel her skin becoming red and hot. She moans in agonizing pleasure. More slaps. More pleasure. She feels a finger gently rubbing her clit, and then stops only to slap her ass again. Two fingers violently jammed in her pussy and a thumb in her asshole, he starts fingerfucking her hard. It feels so good she forgets to suck, but gets reminded by two hands holding her head while he rams his cock down her throat again. As she starts to squirt, he removes his fingers and almost instantly, she can feel the icecube in her neck. He runs it down, she shivers as he runs it over her still burning ass, but she's shocked when he jams it in her pussy. He pushes it down with his finger, and she can feel the cold inside her. Then the familiar feel of two hands on her hips right before he pushes his dick inside her, pushing the icecube further down, making her shiver and tremble all over, she's loving this sensation so much, if only it could last forever. The waves of extacy start to roll in again and she's riding every single one of them. Dick after dick, orgasm after orgasm, all while she's sucking one cock after another. There's cum and saliva dripping down her chin, pussy juice running down her legs.
Finally, after the guys had their way and the Viagra starts to wear off, they untie her. “You know, I always wanted to do this.” She says. “Owh we know.” One of the guys answers. “What? But how?” he grabs a cell phone, dials and gives it to her. A familiar voice on the other end, her best friend. “Happy birthday.”
submitted by BrassHound to sexstories [link] [comments]


2016.01.03 01:05 TylerIsONLINE Something Weird I Wrote A Couple Years Ago [Crit] **Reformatted**

Any comments/critiques welcome!
When he was born, the child had no name. He came into the world, seeing nothing but the red of his mother’s womb, the blue of the doctor’s latex gloves and the piercing white of the hospital room’s fluorescent lights. He came into a world of urgency, where all of the babies like himself, and all of the adults like his mother and father needed names to identify themselves. When the child was born, he was taken from his parents, down a long corridor which twisted and turned, revealing the mysteries of the universe to this new child. In the doctor’s sterile hands, the child came to the end of the hallway, which had two doors, but only one of them opened.
The child and the doctor came into the room and were immediately overcome by brilliance of a new light, which was not fluorescent or incandescent or tungsten, but something new; something mythical which emitted the subtle blue tone of a heavenly body. The room was narrow, but long, like another corridor, but without any doors or windows. All that was in the long, narrow room was a woman with pale skin and long, straight red hair, who sat peacefully on a towel on the floor. By some accounts, this woman had as many as six arms; she was the mystic of the hospital; the maternity ward’s etymological expert; the name-giver. She held the child in her arms, delicately, with the ethereal patience of a saint.
“Woodrow,” the mystic said, then set the child on the clean floor and allowed him to find his way back to the door, to the doctor’s arms, and eventually back to his mother and father.
The first memory that Woodrow can recall is an incident between his father and the neighbors when he was still in kindergarten. In the days leading up to the single most significant event in Woodrow’s developmental stage, he noticed his father acting strange. He would sit in a chair near the window for long stretches of time, and say things like “What they hell are those degenerates doing over there?” to Woodrow’s mother. In that time, his father began to smoke. All that Woodrow can remember is the package the cigarettes came in, which had a green illustration of a four-leaf clover, and a long box full of tiny scribbles and foreign symbols with a cartoon of a skull and crossbones. The other thing Woodrow remembers is that his mother didn’t like that his father smoked. But she was timid and said very little of it. The only time she ever verbalized her feelings about her husband’s smoking was when she was bathing Woodrow. She looked him in the eyes and said “If you ever bring cigarettes into this house, I will stop loving you.” Woodrow didn’t understand what this meant.
One afternoon, after his mother had taken him home from school, and Woodrow was sitting in the dining room drinking a glass of water and coloring in a page from an old book, his father burst through the front door, mad.
“Darlene!” he yelled out, and Woodrow’s mother came to him. “The neighbors are filming us.”
“What?” asked Woodrow’s mother.
“The Chinaskis have a camera set up in their upstairs window, pointing down into our bedroom, They have one in their garage, pointing into our living room, and they have one in their bathroom, pointing somewhere that I can’t tell.”
“W-why?”
“They’re a bunch of perverts and voyeurs! They’re creeps, and they want to know what the normal people who live next door are doing 24/7.” Woodrow’s mother didn’t say anything. She was overwhelmed by the situation, and she was timid. Woodrow’s father let the situation play out for a few more days. He started staring out the window more, and smoking a pack a day. Woodrow knew that eventually his father would’ve had to take some sort of action against the Chinaskis; he wasn’t going to let these people invade his home with their video cameras.
On a day when the sun was out, but the wind was blowing hard, so it didn’t seem so hot out, the Chinaskis opened their garage. Inside of the garage were three long tables full of boxes of VHS tapes and laserdiscs. This caught Woodrow’s father's attention; it sparked his rage, and acted as his call to action. He put on his windbreaker and made a beeline to the neighbors’ garage.
“What’s all this?” Woodrow’s father asked, knowing full-well what the answer was, but still genuinely curious as to how these creeps would answer.
“Garage sale,” said the male Chinaski, who was about twenty-years old and had a coarse neckbeard, and smoked clove cigarettes.
“Yeah,” said Woodrow’s father “what are all these boxes?”
“It’s a bunch of tapes,” said Mr. Chinaski.
“Tapes of what?”
“Y’know, like movies.”
“What kind of movies are these?”
“Y’know, like...y’know man, movies, you put’em in a tape-player and you watch em on your television, y’know!” Woodrow’s father placed himself menacingly over the complacent Mr. Chinaski.
“Stay the fuck out of my home, you rotten pervert.”
“Hey, man, what’s the deal with all the accusations--” before Mr. Chinaski could finish the ‘s’ in ‘accusations’, Woodrow’s father flipped over one of the long tables full of VHS tapes and laserdiscs, and threw Mr. Chinaski to the hard concrete floor of the garage. He stomped on his leg once, then crouched down and began to yell vicious, feral and inhuman noises at Mr. Chinaski. Woodrow doesn’t remember everything that he saw from the dining room window. Now the whole experience comes to his mind like an impressionistic painting, with bright colors, grandiose movements and broad gestures; with the sounds of an anti-symphony; and his father’s face, resembling that of Francisco de Goya’s most inhuman characters.
There is a long stretch of Woodrow’s life that he doesn’t recall. His next memory formed at the age of thirteen, when the Chinaskis had long-since moved out and a new neighbor moved in. He was just one man; an old man named Billiam Belafonte. Billiam Bellefonte was tall when he was younger, but as the years added pressure to his spine, he got shorter, and now stands at 5’9 fully-extended, but 5’7 with the slouch with which he normally walks. Every saturday afternoon, Billiam Bellefonte would leave an unsealed letter in Woodrow’s mailbox. The letter contained a list of complaints regarding Woodrow and his family ranging anywhere from “music too loud” to “you remind me of my death” signed “Regards, BB Bellefonte” at the bottom.
Walking to school one morning, Woodrow passed by Billiam Bellefonte’s house. He was sitting on his porch, smoking a cigar. He was the only adult Woodrow knew who smoked cigars, but not cigarettes. As Woodrow passed Bellefonte’s house, he heard
“Hey, boy, come over here, and talk to you friend Billiam.” Woodrow was distraught. He felt like he was being attacked by Bellefonte’s words, but because he was at least sixty years his senior, he figured he had to oblige Bellefonte’s request.
“Where are you headed?” demanded Bellefonte.
“I’m going to school,” said Woodrow.
“School? What grade are you in?”
“I’m in 7th grade.”
“Where do you go?”
“St. Jermaine Baptist downtown.”
“What road do you take there?”
“Dixon.”
“So you pass right by the Golden City then, right?”
“I don’t know what that is, but no, I don’t think that I do.”
“You don’t even know what the Golden City is?” Woodrow regretted talking to Billiam Bellefonte this morning. He knew he was going to have to listen to a story, and he knew that Billiam wasn’t going to be any good at telling stories, and he knew that he was going to make him late to school, and he’d get yelled at and his parents would get a call, and the day would turn out terrible. But he had to listen. It was the only time he’d ever spoken to Bellefonte in his life, and he never did it again after that day.
As Woodrow remembers, Billiam Bellefonte recounted the story of the Golden City. A public housing project which began planning in spring of 1932, started construction in September of 1937, and was abandoned entirely by the winter of 1938, a full year before construction was due to be completed.
The outcome was three half-finished tenement buildings, circling a flat concrete pool with no water in it, which was planned as a community welfare center. Woodrow did not know why Bellefonte was so interested in this Golden City until he began to explain the reasons for its conception.
“Population control!” Woodrow remembers Billiam Bellefonte beginning his explanation. The Golden City was a no-income housing district meant to control the city of Topallia’s homeless population. The theory was that with every homeless person living together in one great big housing unit, the city would be free of the “imposed burden of the lower-low class” as Bellefonte put it. He also called them the antiletariates because they didn’t have jobs, and therefore, weren’t part of the upper class, the middle class, or the working class; they were a class of their own, so they got their own homes.
Bellefonte explained the plan of the Golden City in philanthropic terms, as though the entire community was pitching-in to help these victims of circumstance fulfill their every dream, but even at the age of 13, Woodrow could tell that this plan was a violation of even the most basic of human rights. The Golden City, at it’s core was essentially a concentration camp, where government officials would round up the homeless, and force them to live, without food or clean water in unsafe tenements until they died; which Bellefonte contended “solved the homeless problem.”
This sentiment made Woodrow sick, but without saying a word, he left when Billiam Bellefonte finished his story. Woodrow was late to class, his teacher yelled at him and humiliated him with a call home to his parents in the ear-range of all of his peers. His father answered, and on the speakerphone declared “Woodrow, you ain’t my child.” Woodrow cried.
For some time, Woodrow was depressed. His discovery of what he believed to be the ultimate cruelty in the world, the genocide of America’s homeless population, shook the foundation of his world. He was devastated, and nothing seemed important anymore, not even his own health. He stopped eating more than one meal a day, and in less than three weeks, he lost fifteen pounds. Woodrow wanted to confront his demons. He needed to see this Golden City. He needed definitive proof that humanity couldn’t be so cruel as to build a town to intern innocent people; to let the homeless die. He needed to find this world, because he needed to prove that it didn’t exist.
In early July, Woodrow set out to find his demon. Based only on the information he had from Billiam Bellefonte, he knew that the Golden City was on the way to school. It was near Dixon Street, so that’s where he went. He left his home early in the morning to dodge the suspicion of his parents, who would’ve asked why he was leaving the house. And if Woodrow explained that he was looking for the homeless internment camp, they would’ve asked why he was doing that, and he would’ve had to explain how his world was torn apart by his recent discovery of humanity’s incredible lack of love. If he explained all of this, he didn’t know what his parents would’ve done. That was an area of emotional intimacy to which he’d never explored with anyone. Because of his severe melancholia, Woodrow had to become a lone wolf.
He had no map when he went out to find the housing project. He felt like a blind man, waking up in the morning in a strange hotel, with no bearings, with no landmarks to judge where he was, with no sight and with no information. He was wandering, when he happened upon a small farmhouse, painted firetruck red with a freshly-painted white fence surrounding a large area of trimmed grass. In the large area of trimmed grass was a metallic silo, reaching far into the sky. It had an antenna on the top.
A young man emerged from the front door of the farmhouse. He looked like death. He had pale skin and long blonde hair, tied lazily behind his head in a ponytail. He stood about six or seven feet, and his posture was brilliant, and he carried himself like a giant, and walked towards Woodward, who stood frozen at the side of the road, watching this figure of death approach him.
“Who are you, young man?” asked the figure of death.
“I--I’m Wayne,” Woodrow said. He told the figure of death that his name was Wayne. The comfort he took in this existential deception was greatly outweighed by the terror he felt when confronted by this man. “And who are you?” Still walking slowly towards Woodrow, the man took his time to respond. When he reached the mailbox, which stood between himself and Woodrow, he responded.
“I’m a farmer, a scientist, I dig holes on the sides of the road for the federal government, I designed a weather-modifying silo which I keep stored in my backyard, and when I was younger, I was a folk-rock musician. I played The Troubadour in California every Wednesday night in the eighties, but now, I guess now, you’d call me a farmer. You can call me a farmer.” The Farmer spoke without any inflection. He wasn’t stoic, but he was calm. There was no deception in his words. “And what brings you by my farm, Wayne?”
“I’m...I’m not here for your farm. I’m looking for the Golden City Housing Project. Do you know where it is?”
"I know where it is. I was an architect and a contractor for the Greensboro Estate. That’s the folks that funded the project. But I’m sure you know that by now.” The Farmer leaned against the mailbox. It didn’t look too comfortable, and Woodrow was shocked that it’s flimsy pole could even support the giant farmer.
Woodrow had begun to doubt the reliability of the Farmer. Could this possibly be true? What is the power of coincidence? How could it be that, as Woodrow begins to search for the Golden City, he happens to find this enigmatic architect. He didn’t know how things could line up so perfectly, that he would have to put no effort into his search; he didn’t believe that things could just go right for once, with no obstacles. He didn’t believe the Farmer, but it was all he had, so he decided to hear him out.
The Farmer explained the conception of the Golden City. It was never a humanitarian project; it wasn’t just low income housing. At it’s core, the Golden City was a concentration Camp for the homeless, and everything that Woodrow had assumed was correct. It was conceived by soulless bureaucrats who held money and efficiency in a higher regard that human life and any form of empathy. Woodrow’s hopes were once again dashed. Sadness exists in the world. Cruelty exists in the world.
The Farmer continued his story far beyond an explanation of the Golden City. He began to talk about himself.
His music career (which, never really failed, but just sort of ended), his time serving in the coast guard, and his eventual foray into applied agricultural physics, which culminated in his invention of what he called “The Monolith.”
The Monolith was the large silo penetrating the sky in his backyard. He used it to manipulate the weather in the area immediately surrounding his ten acres of land. The Farmer grows tobacco year-round in a climate that is technically very hostile towards tobacco crops. He makes a good living off of his tobacco plants.
The Golden City was desolate. There were two large, unfinished towers, surrounding a deep hole filled-in with concrete. Weeds grew over everything. It was dilapidated; a dream from the mind of fascists which culminated in nothing. A dream which would have been a nightmare had it come to fruition. Woodrow found some comfort in this. There is bad in the world. Somebody at some point in time had this dream, and convinced other people to follow them. Somebody led a group to the low-income holocaust of the Golden City. Somebody had enough hate--or perhaps indifference--in their heart to make them take action; to make them develop their hate. But there is good as well. Because somebody stopped it. Either somebody realized it was wrong and campaigned to end it or enough people just lost interest in it. Either way, Woodrow theorized that because people weren’t actively pursuing hateful endeavors any longer, there must be some grain of good in the world.
Woodrow hitchhiked his way home. A man picked him up who drove a baby blue pickup truck, wore tattered white clothing, and called himself Killa Chief. Woodrow thought he was the Zodiac killer. Killa Chief assured him that he wasn’t. He assured him that he transcended any interpretations of life and death; presence and being; that he was an immortal, in mortal terms. That when he was young, living in Taiwan in the early sixteenth century, the electric stingray god granted him with the gift of being. He would never die, and his life would drone. He would continue to ride out his presence into eternity. He would see the world around him die, he would see time itself die, then both, at once, be reborn as a Cosmic Egg. Killa Chief was grateful for the electric stingray god, and told Woodrow to look into it. He told Woodrow that life is good. He told Woodrow that he needed to just roll with it.
When Woodrow returned home, he told his parents he was leaving them.
“I’m not running away,” Woodrow said. “I’m leaving. I don’t want to be here anymore. I haven’t liked my life so far, so I’m moving away. I’m going to Tijuana. I’m going to convince a nun that god isn’t real, then I’m going to start a noise-rock band. If you think this is immature, then you aren’t fully-realized. I’m leaving you, and I’m not saying goodbye.” His parents didn’t respond, but now Woodrow remembers hearing Bill O’Reilly on the television talking about healthcare reform. That’s the last memory that Woodrow ever formed.
submitted by TylerIsONLINE to KeepWriting [link] [comments]


2015.10.01 13:59 nikoma SysTemD is an STD

Hello and welcome…I'm going to make things very clear. lets begin briefly, shall we? the wonderful shills have ensured that mint's been talked about as attempt to entrap exodus newbies running from windows into settling for another false sense of safety, privacy, and security. These excellent shills are pretending to settle for and install freedom-disrespecting, proprietary mint as well as recommending it in every thread to trick people desperate to switch their OS away from windows.

"hey look guis, look at me pls, oh…well…! I will just use mint because it's my only option… ;)" It is a cheap and common "lemmings over a cliff" style disinformation tactic used to win over people's helpless, FOOLISH minds, and it works surprisingly well… I presume you are all aware of systemd, Correct? It has been made quite sure that the stupid general public believes it's just another pointless thing whiners complain about needlessly… But in reality, systemd effects all Linux OS users!
isn't that great? systemd is an infectious, insidious, and diseased bloated blob plague of systemically parasitic, hypocritical, self-contradictory, purpose-defeating, pretentious, freedom betraying software that its creators daringly pulled off as an init-system! systemd takes away from it's users the freedom of choice and severely limits the control users have over their own computer. systemd is so restrictive and authoritarian to the point that it more than figuratively rapes your whole Operating System.
user makes the choice to remove systemd and use a different init-system
countless packages and programs that existed long before systemd and never required systemd to function are now somehow all tangled in an evil, sticky, and obnoxious web of unnecessary forced artificial false dependencies interconnecting throughout the entire OS
any attempts to regain control rips out half the OS along with everything useful
OS is now a dead husk
SysTemD is an STD
quite evil yes? excellently evil
and Finally as the plan comes together, we have micro$oft releasing it's own linux os, as if enough people didn't find them overwhelmingly abhorrent enough, to the point that unfathomably massive groups of people (who didn't participate in any surveys or statistic gathering) became refugees and migrated to other video game consoles and operating systems after only xbox one what a wonderful nightmare that was… and now again at the release of windows 10 "walking dollar sign to parasitize private data off of, I MEAN CUSTOMER who we care 10 quacks about-edition" http://itsfoss.com/microsoft-announces-linux-os/ http://www.networkworld.com/article/2260199/virtualization/microsoft-stuns-linux-world--submits-source-code-for-kernel.html http://www.mslinux.org/ which brings me to my final point, my great revelation of the plot against freedom itself.
WINDOWS, MINT, AND SYSTEMD ARE ALL CONNECTED!
How would anyone have ever guessed this ingeniously designed plot!? You are all drooling fools!
I will make it easy for a stupid "person" to understand.
windows 10 released
ignorant uninformed people keep using it, even though it steals your wifi and social networking passwords
smarter yet still a multitude of levels more stupid than I, freedom seeking people attempt to flee this evils grasp and beg for knowledge online to the best of their pathetic ability
mint and ubuntu shills pop up and fool a percentage of them promising ease of use
meanwhile other shills scare them away from linux entirely by throwing noobs right into the grinder "installll gentoooo, installlll archhhh, installlllll fedoraaaa, installllll redhattt"
meanwhile yet again, systemd spreads through linux like a virulent plague, infecting and un-freedoming multiple linux distrobutions, forcing users to run around trying to remove it or find another distro with no systemd. So I Welcome you all… to the NSA/Prism hotel where there is a Mint under every pillow and a pervert voyeur looking through your Windows.
You can check in but you can't check out, so enjoy your stay because you are never getting out! -√¿#΅ςγζτεηη–εггôř΅∞8∞8∞8∞8
you can check out, the ticket is truth. may it set you free, now run!
systemd is four-hundred-twenty-five-THOUSAND lines of code for just an init system. systemd is a plot to windows-ize linux and ruin it for everyone who loves freedom. systemd is being shoved down everyone's throats. systemd is massive for an init system. systemd is bloat. systemd is a Linux kernel coup attempt. Systemd tries to incorporate way too much. Many previously isolated components are all carelessly blobbed together which not only widens the angle of attack but also makes the system as a whole less reliable, because one small error and whole system goes down HARD.
http://without-systemd.org/wiki/index.php/Arguments_against_systemd ****
Systemd is being pushed by obviously malicious people. Consider the following: The reason developers have decided to depend on systemd is stated to be that it solves problems with device management, for example. However, several tens of thousands of people have worked for decades without addressing or even mentioning the existence of such a problem. if the problem existed, it would have been mentioned.
If the problem existed, people would have worked on it. Mentioning a problem costs literally nothing and would have been effectively mandatory in dev mailing lists and ircs e.g. when discussing a specific implementation, interface, or approach taken or to be taken by a project. The systemd-backing people almost exclusively use emotions-based arguments to support systemd: "The only other option was sysvinit! If you don't like systemd, you're a sysvinit fanatic! The only people who oppose us are the men in the linux community that have a deep hatred for women!"
The project is strongly endorsed by various feminist groups that have nothing to do with technology. The system is headed by a developer reputed for making low-quality software. If literally any other piece of software had the kind of bugs described in the various systemd issue trackers, they wouldn't even be accepted in distro repos, yet systemd has been widely adopted in a matter of months, breaking compatibility and not offering upgrade paths even on the likes of strong server OSs like debian or centos.
SELinux - a NSA project - developers are strongly for systemd, nevermind the numerous bugs and undoubtedly numerous security vulnerabilities. Speaking of, there has been NO audit of systemd even though everyone is accepting systemd no matter how security-sensitive the distro is meant to be. It's pretty evident that something is really wrong with systemd's adoption. basically the bastards who want to enslave the world decided that the best way to control opensource is to create their own and promote it until it's the standard even though it shouldn't be.
new people would fall for it and the more knowledgeable are facing a lack of support for their alternatives. The project to create an all-encompassing system that can be easily infiltrated by, at will to provide root access and spy on arbitrary non-backdoored systems is being funded by, and is being promoted by the, global elite across the entire community. It's clear that the adoption of systemd is not normal and there's something hiding behind it. Nobody has ever been specific about what kind of problem systemd solves, nobody has ever even mentioned having a problem before systemd appeared, and suddenly it spreads like wildfire.
systemd's design is flawed intentionally to increase its attack vector and make it vulnerable for outside attackers to break it more easily. There is a reason why systemd is pushed by Red hat, an American company with very close ties to the N $ @. Red hat controls Fedora, so Fedora adopted it first, then Red hat enterprise linux and because Red hat funds most of debian, they also caved in.
Basically all of the major distros are controlled by Red hat one way or another. Everyone hates Gnome, yet it is still here, why you ask…… it is Red hat. Red Hat wants control of Linux. Anyone who opposes systemd is in the way of them controlling Linux. They will do whatever they can to make sure that Gentoo, Slackware, Void, and Alpine have the worst time possible by not solely supporting systemd.
After red hat fully takes control with systemd, there is no need for different distros, because basically they will be all the same but with a different logo.
http://without-systemd.org/wiki/index.php/Main_Page
submitted by nikoma to LinuxCirclejerk [link] [comments]