Post by Bateman on Jun 24, 2007 10:28:44 GMT -5
(OOC: i guess there is some sort of editor on here when it comes to dirty language so some of the curse words are mis-spelled, that is not my mistake it is only the regulator on the site... enjoy.)
“My name is Rex Bateman and I am a sex addict.”
We meet every other Wednesday night in a dank little bingo hall. When old ladies aren’t trying score an extra few dollars for their Percodan addiction the hall is alive with nymphomaniacs. Teaming with taboos. The bright blue florescent lights dance on and off singing a low pitched buzz just barely audible but enough to make you feel like you are trapped inside some sort of asylum for sex junkies. The chairs are shaped in a perfect circle so all of us can see one another. Size each other up. Check each other out. There is just one thing I haven’t told you yet. I am not a sex addict.
“My name is Lilith Connelly and I am a sex addict.”
I don’t go here just to get laid although most of the time that happens as well. I go here because I am addicted to the attention, to the stories I make up for myself, the new me if you will.
“When I was nine years old I was raped by father,”
A simultaneous burst of sympathy from the rest of us and Lilith continues.
“The experience has stuck with me and by the time I got to the eighth grade the only why I thought people would love is if I let them use my body. I would go over to boys sleep overs and just give myself to them all at once. No one ever had any objections, keep in mind these were all boys going through puberty, walking hard-ons”
Everyone is a victim of their own sins. Everybody here is so caught up in their own personal pity party trying to invite everyone else too it baiting them with the promise of getting laid. Most girls here have been raped, so they become promiscuous little sluts. Makes sense right? Most guys here jerked off nine times a day when they were dorks in high school which lead to endless nights with prostitutes. A lot of these people use peanut butter to lore their dogs into molesting them the same way they are using these sexually explicit stories to lore someone in tonight. Lilith, she keeps talking.
“I tried to so hard to experience love but no matter what I did it would only come to me 15 minutes at a time. By my sophomore year of high school I had already been with 40 people. Guys, girls, dads, moms, teachers, anyone you can think of I had probably fucked.”
The truth is, almost everyone here is a good fuck, they are all veterans, professionals if you will. Most of them put porn stars to shame. Lilith Connelly she keeps speaking but I begin to zone out my eyes drift down past her chin and rest upon two giant mountains of breasts stretching the cheap cotton of a pink K-Mart shirt, she placed a black bra so meticulously underneath so you can still see the outline. Her stomach is fit but poked out just a tiny bit, not enough to bother anyone. Her black slacks barely lay over her wide hips. I cannot see behind her but if I know my sex addicts (and I do) then her ass is sticking half a foot out accentuating the already goddess like curve of her body. Most of the time the women don’t look like this. Most of the time they are used up old hags with matted hair and running mascara, but her make up is perfect. And her dark hair brings out her green eyes. She finally sits after she is done and the next man stands.
This same ceremony goes on for about half an hour longer. Every one and their sexual exploits. All these people and their myths. Greek gods weren’t this horny. Thirty minutes later and it is my pity party. Right before I stand I try to think of the sickest most twisted shit I can think of. Fact of life: The lower you go the more people pretend to care about you. Like I said, I love the attention, I think that’s the same reason I am a professional athlete. My turn.
“My name is Jack Crowe and I am a sex addict.” Most people use fake names. I do.
My name is Rex Bateman and I am a liar.
Now all the fiends’ eyes are on me. Every one of them undressing me, trying me out in their own sick twisted little brain. I am tying them up, or Cumming all over their face. If it is a guy then I am probably standing behind him, thrusting. Each one with their own little make believe story, like kids playing doctor. Grown ups playing sex. We all did the same thing to Lilith Connelly, or Bruce Arnold, or whoever else.
“When I was young I used to go down stairs and sneak into my parent’s room at night and hide. I would sit there all night waiting for them to have sex. I used to watch every second, hang on every moan and every thrust.”
Of course this is all fabricated. I didn’t even have a two story house growing up.
“Then the next day at school I would pull my best friend aside and take her into the bathroom where I would stick my hand down her pants. My little fingers caressing the lips of her vagina.”
The key is to make it as vivid as possible, this turns on the fiends even more. I shoot my eyes across the room and I see Lilith. Her lips are slightly parted and the waves of her breast are moving up and down hard, she is panting, ready.
I continue on telling them all a story about when I was in ninth grade, something about a gym teacher and two of his students. Then I move onto my girlfriends mother move down the ranks of her entire family. Something only the shittiest of human beings would do.
That is the point of these meetings, one person speaks then the next tries to outdo, make his life way more ridiculous. The winner is the one who gets the biggest “Awwww”. Or goes home with the most people.
After the meeting I see Lilith Connelly and her green eyes starring at me. She is sliding strands of hair behind her ear with one hand and rubbing her thigh with the other. I smile at her and she smiles back but doesn’t look at the ground like most girls. She nods her and bites her bottom lip. This all sounds so stereotypical but it is true, it really is that easy. My smile grows bigger and I strut over to her.
“Is Jack even your real name?” she asks.
No. “Is Lilith yours?”
“Nope.” She smiles. “You know, as much as I love coming here and being around people with problems similar to mine I’d much rather just chat over a cup of coffee.”
She is good, real good. “There is a Starbucks on every block, I am sure we can find one.”
“I prefer homemade coffee.” Her evil smile growing with every word.
“Well I don’t have a coffee machine but I have a bottle of cheap vodka and a brand new pack of condoms.” This wouldn’t work anywhere else in the world but here.
“I love vodka.”
She smiles. I smile. We are some smiley motherfuckers at this point. She turns first toward the exit and I follow her out the door, staring at her ass cheeks fight one another for the center of her body the entire time. We get to the car, I take her to my place. We fuck. I’ll take her back to her car in the morning.
BLOGassholeS.com
“Because no one gives a shit what you have to say!”
Brutality TV
June 21, 2007
Current Mood: ;DExcited
Current Music: Butthole Surfers – Shame of Life
Well journal it has been a long time since I have written in you, you must be so lonely so I brought you some thoughts to cheer you up. Just got back from my bi-weekly meetings at the bingo hall and guess what? I met someone, but that is neither here nor there because I will probably never see her again but the big news in Rex Bateman’s life is I got a job with a new promotion. Exciting isn’t it?
UWS, Ultraviolent Wrestling Syndicate. Sounds kind of creepy right? And I know what you are thinking “But Rex, you aren’t even a hardcore wrestler!” well that is true but I am here to show these assholes that all the weapons in the world are useless when I break their arms, legs, back, etc., etc.
I am apart of the main event, at a time where all slates are clean, where no matter how well you have done in the past doesn’t matter because this is day one for everyone, including the UWS. We are all just small sharks looking for weak fish to devour and grow, and I have a huge appetite to look out for. Hellraiser and his bitch, Jenni Jacobs are the first two little fish, the appetizers.
Hellraiser, is a big guy probably pumped up on Dianabol thinking that all his big muscles can win him every match. The big shark is not always the winner, sometimes it’s the smaller, smarter shark with the huge stomach who becomes the king of the sea. The shark with the hundred rows of hidden teeth so he just keeps on biting no matter how bad you think you have him broken down.
That is probably all I am going to say about the shark analogies.
But seriously, I bet you have lived by your own rules all your life. Of course you have, you are the big man. Playing hero, saving damsels is that what you do? Is that who you are? You use that hero act to get your way, to bully people around. Your name says it all. Well Mr. Hellraiser it is a damn shame I am going to have to rain on your parade right from day one. So come on big man, bring your big war guns, bring your hero muscles and make your move. Bring out that hero in you, let’s see it. Everyone is waiting for you to step up and calm this evil but let me let you in on a little secret. The real evil is you, you do gooder no good fuck. Falsifying yourself to keep up with an accidental image, you are just as sick, just as twisted as I am. But now that you have this reputation to protect you so conveniently forgot about who you really are underneath that tub of steroids you call a body.
Everyone always forgets that they are just human, and by being human that makes you one evil bastard. All the muscles, good looks and arm candy in the world wont save you form you. So allow me to be your hero Hellraiser. Allow me to be your hero and raise you from your own personal hell.
That was intense.
I will see you and that little slut of yours at Unleashed, but for now PEACE fuckER!
“My name is Rex Bateman and I am a sex addict.”
We meet every other Wednesday night in a dank little bingo hall. When old ladies aren’t trying score an extra few dollars for their Percodan addiction the hall is alive with nymphomaniacs. Teaming with taboos. The bright blue florescent lights dance on and off singing a low pitched buzz just barely audible but enough to make you feel like you are trapped inside some sort of asylum for sex junkies. The chairs are shaped in a perfect circle so all of us can see one another. Size each other up. Check each other out. There is just one thing I haven’t told you yet. I am not a sex addict.
“My name is Lilith Connelly and I am a sex addict.”
I don’t go here just to get laid although most of the time that happens as well. I go here because I am addicted to the attention, to the stories I make up for myself, the new me if you will.
“When I was nine years old I was raped by father,”
A simultaneous burst of sympathy from the rest of us and Lilith continues.
“The experience has stuck with me and by the time I got to the eighth grade the only why I thought people would love is if I let them use my body. I would go over to boys sleep overs and just give myself to them all at once. No one ever had any objections, keep in mind these were all boys going through puberty, walking hard-ons”
Everyone is a victim of their own sins. Everybody here is so caught up in their own personal pity party trying to invite everyone else too it baiting them with the promise of getting laid. Most girls here have been raped, so they become promiscuous little sluts. Makes sense right? Most guys here jerked off nine times a day when they were dorks in high school which lead to endless nights with prostitutes. A lot of these people use peanut butter to lore their dogs into molesting them the same way they are using these sexually explicit stories to lore someone in tonight. Lilith, she keeps talking.
“I tried to so hard to experience love but no matter what I did it would only come to me 15 minutes at a time. By my sophomore year of high school I had already been with 40 people. Guys, girls, dads, moms, teachers, anyone you can think of I had probably fucked.”
The truth is, almost everyone here is a good fuck, they are all veterans, professionals if you will. Most of them put porn stars to shame. Lilith Connelly she keeps speaking but I begin to zone out my eyes drift down past her chin and rest upon two giant mountains of breasts stretching the cheap cotton of a pink K-Mart shirt, she placed a black bra so meticulously underneath so you can still see the outline. Her stomach is fit but poked out just a tiny bit, not enough to bother anyone. Her black slacks barely lay over her wide hips. I cannot see behind her but if I know my sex addicts (and I do) then her ass is sticking half a foot out accentuating the already goddess like curve of her body. Most of the time the women don’t look like this. Most of the time they are used up old hags with matted hair and running mascara, but her make up is perfect. And her dark hair brings out her green eyes. She finally sits after she is done and the next man stands.
This same ceremony goes on for about half an hour longer. Every one and their sexual exploits. All these people and their myths. Greek gods weren’t this horny. Thirty minutes later and it is my pity party. Right before I stand I try to think of the sickest most twisted shit I can think of. Fact of life: The lower you go the more people pretend to care about you. Like I said, I love the attention, I think that’s the same reason I am a professional athlete. My turn.
“My name is Jack Crowe and I am a sex addict.” Most people use fake names. I do.
My name is Rex Bateman and I am a liar.
Now all the fiends’ eyes are on me. Every one of them undressing me, trying me out in their own sick twisted little brain. I am tying them up, or Cumming all over their face. If it is a guy then I am probably standing behind him, thrusting. Each one with their own little make believe story, like kids playing doctor. Grown ups playing sex. We all did the same thing to Lilith Connelly, or Bruce Arnold, or whoever else.
“When I was young I used to go down stairs and sneak into my parent’s room at night and hide. I would sit there all night waiting for them to have sex. I used to watch every second, hang on every moan and every thrust.”
Of course this is all fabricated. I didn’t even have a two story house growing up.
“Then the next day at school I would pull my best friend aside and take her into the bathroom where I would stick my hand down her pants. My little fingers caressing the lips of her vagina.”
The key is to make it as vivid as possible, this turns on the fiends even more. I shoot my eyes across the room and I see Lilith. Her lips are slightly parted and the waves of her breast are moving up and down hard, she is panting, ready.
I continue on telling them all a story about when I was in ninth grade, something about a gym teacher and two of his students. Then I move onto my girlfriends mother move down the ranks of her entire family. Something only the shittiest of human beings would do.
That is the point of these meetings, one person speaks then the next tries to outdo, make his life way more ridiculous. The winner is the one who gets the biggest “Awwww”. Or goes home with the most people.
After the meeting I see Lilith Connelly and her green eyes starring at me. She is sliding strands of hair behind her ear with one hand and rubbing her thigh with the other. I smile at her and she smiles back but doesn’t look at the ground like most girls. She nods her and bites her bottom lip. This all sounds so stereotypical but it is true, it really is that easy. My smile grows bigger and I strut over to her.
“Is Jack even your real name?” she asks.
No. “Is Lilith yours?”
“Nope.” She smiles. “You know, as much as I love coming here and being around people with problems similar to mine I’d much rather just chat over a cup of coffee.”
She is good, real good. “There is a Starbucks on every block, I am sure we can find one.”
“I prefer homemade coffee.” Her evil smile growing with every word.
“Well I don’t have a coffee machine but I have a bottle of cheap vodka and a brand new pack of condoms.” This wouldn’t work anywhere else in the world but here.
“I love vodka.”
She smiles. I smile. We are some smiley motherfuckers at this point. She turns first toward the exit and I follow her out the door, staring at her ass cheeks fight one another for the center of her body the entire time. We get to the car, I take her to my place. We fuck. I’ll take her back to her car in the morning.
BLOGassholeS.com
“Because no one gives a shit what you have to say!”
Brutality TV
June 21, 2007
Current Mood: ;DExcited
Current Music: Butthole Surfers – Shame of Life
Well journal it has been a long time since I have written in you, you must be so lonely so I brought you some thoughts to cheer you up. Just got back from my bi-weekly meetings at the bingo hall and guess what? I met someone, but that is neither here nor there because I will probably never see her again but the big news in Rex Bateman’s life is I got a job with a new promotion. Exciting isn’t it?
UWS, Ultraviolent Wrestling Syndicate. Sounds kind of creepy right? And I know what you are thinking “But Rex, you aren’t even a hardcore wrestler!” well that is true but I am here to show these assholes that all the weapons in the world are useless when I break their arms, legs, back, etc., etc.
I am apart of the main event, at a time where all slates are clean, where no matter how well you have done in the past doesn’t matter because this is day one for everyone, including the UWS. We are all just small sharks looking for weak fish to devour and grow, and I have a huge appetite to look out for. Hellraiser and his bitch, Jenni Jacobs are the first two little fish, the appetizers.
Hellraiser, is a big guy probably pumped up on Dianabol thinking that all his big muscles can win him every match. The big shark is not always the winner, sometimes it’s the smaller, smarter shark with the huge stomach who becomes the king of the sea. The shark with the hundred rows of hidden teeth so he just keeps on biting no matter how bad you think you have him broken down.
That is probably all I am going to say about the shark analogies.
But seriously, I bet you have lived by your own rules all your life. Of course you have, you are the big man. Playing hero, saving damsels is that what you do? Is that who you are? You use that hero act to get your way, to bully people around. Your name says it all. Well Mr. Hellraiser it is a damn shame I am going to have to rain on your parade right from day one. So come on big man, bring your big war guns, bring your hero muscles and make your move. Bring out that hero in you, let’s see it. Everyone is waiting for you to step up and calm this evil but let me let you in on a little secret. The real evil is you, you do gooder no good fuck. Falsifying yourself to keep up with an accidental image, you are just as sick, just as twisted as I am. But now that you have this reputation to protect you so conveniently forgot about who you really are underneath that tub of steroids you call a body.
Everyone always forgets that they are just human, and by being human that makes you one evil bastard. All the muscles, good looks and arm candy in the world wont save you form you. So allow me to be your hero Hellraiser. Allow me to be your hero and raise you from your own personal hell.
That was intense.
I will see you and that little slut of yours at Unleashed, but for now PEACE fuckER!