Getting It Out Of My System

Recently I've had my hours cut back at work to such an extent that its getting very difficult to get by. So I'm looking around for new or additional work, polishing up my resume, working on cover letters.

Dancing the Dance of Bullshit, as I like to call it. You know what I'm talking about--saying things like, "I am a results-driven team player who holds himself up to the highest standard..." yadda yadda yadda. Trying to talk in professional/corporate weenie-speak.

And I can't stand talking like that, so stuffy and dishonest and artificial.

So I have to get the following out of my system, the cover letter I WISH I could send these HR bastards. :P

Dear Sir or Madam:

I am interested in the XX position with your company.

I am currently living in a van down by the river, existing only upon my own body vermin that I share dwellings with. It isn’t pleasant. I don’t much care for it. I need a real job.

Actually, that’s a lie. I don’t want a job per se. Its work, isn’t it? If it was something I wanted to do, like cover several naked and blonde Valkyrie Goddesses with chocolate syrup and lick every glorious inch clean, that would be fun, and not work.

And since our society is so backward in that we only get paid for things that we really don't want to do, (i.e work), I come to you.

I’m sure you didn’t want your job either: let’s be honest with ourselves and say that we’re only in for the money--the root of all evil.

As much as I despise this capitalistic, money-grubbing, career ladder ascending society in which we live in I must confess that when you have to barbeque your own body lice to survive, there’s something to be said for an hourly wage. Drug dealers will not take credit, after all.

And, to make matters more urgent, the doctors say if I sell any more of my precious bodily fluids I might not make it, and so they won’t let me do it any more.

Hire me or I will follow you and hunt you down wherever you go. I will find what you love most in the world and kick it in the crotch. Your mother, your child, your dog, I don’t care. I’m eating goddamn fleas for crying out loud.

And when the grand glorious Revolution comes and the capitalist running dogs are put up against the wall and shot, I will put in a good word for you and thus keep you from being offed with the rest of the pigs. That is, if you give me this job I want. Or just the money. I don’t even need to come to the office, really, and considering the smell in this van you might not want me in the office anyway.

I can provide many glowing references from my current place of underpaid, underappreciated employment (I like to call it Hell), because there’s an office pool as to when I’ll snap and kill someone and I think they’ll say a lot of nice things just to see me go.

And if they don’t say anything nice, please, let me know. Someone might just win that pool after all.

Thank you for your time and consideration.

Sincerely,

Sleeping Violation

The idea of creeping up on someone & ravishing them in their sleep is one that runs though quite a lot of my fantasies. And as pre-engineered scenes go it’s an easy one to put together on the spur of the moment. So last night I decided to throw tia a mighty swerve and ‘rape’ him in his sleep.

My mojo has been seriously limping lately. Worries about money, about the kids, about my health and that of my loved ones; all the usual crap of life has been dragging me down. And I’ve been going around bitching and whining about needing a domme fix for weeks.

We’d shot a scene together yesterday that went pretty well. It wasn’t enough to get my fires blazing, but it was a decent spark. Then after I tucked tia in bed I did a few more solo clips that fanned those flames a good bit higher. By the time I was ready to quit for the night I was also ready for some serious action.

And tia was asleep.

Naturally my mind supplied the favorite arousal-button of the sleeping violation, so I quickly assembled my “rape kit”: Strapon (of course) but no lube, as I happened to know my victim had some on his bedside table. *whistles innocently* A long scarf to tie his wrists with. A nice fat ballgag and a damp washcloth.

(I actually took some time debating how best to secure his wrists. Shackles? Rope? I needed it to be fast but not terribly secure; knowing my slut he was more likely to beg for more than put up any serious resistance. The scarf won on grounds of speediness.)

Silently opening his door I saw that he had a pillow over his face. Good; the light wouldn’t wake him and I’d be able to be on him before he knew I was there. I pulled the door almost shut; leaving a sliver of light that was just enough to see by. Didn’t want to rouse my victim’s roommate! Then, laying the washcloth down beside the bed and moving the lube within easy reach, I climbed on top of him. I shoved the gag into his mouth and leaned down to growl in his ear “do exactly as I say and you won’t get hurt bitch”.

The gag fastened in place I pushed him over onto his stomach, grabbing one arm and twisting it up behind his back as I did so. My scarf made a quick lark’s head around one wrist and the ends were available to bind the other, which I was already tugging into place. His hands secured, I climbed off his shivering body. I stopped beside him, my hand on his ass, to murmur in his ear again: “Mmm, that’s a sweet ass you got there bitch. I’m really gonna like sticking my dick in it. And if it’s not as much fun for you as it is for me…well, too bad”. He shivered as I gave his ass a solid smack.

Moving around to straddle his legs, I spread his buttcheeks and slid my silicone hard-on between them. I could feel the moisture of our earlier congress still present; there seemed to be quite a lot of it. “Well well, the little slut’s all juiced up already” I taunted him, rubbing my cockhead around his anus. “Were you waiting for me to come and fuck you bitch? I bet you were, I know how you slutty little sissy whores are, always wanting to have a cock in you. I bet I don’t even need to use any lube do I?” I continued, abruptly shoving the first two inches of my dick past his sphincter.

I immediately pulled back out as his sharp gasp let me know how much the sudden intrusion hurt. A few seconds pause to let the spasm subside and I knew he would take me much easier. Wanting to be on the safe side but still maintain the illusion of an unprepared entry I sneakily squirted the tiniest dab of lube I could onto the head of my dick while I was at it. Then, taking aim once more, I pushed my entire length into him in one firm stroke. “That’s it, take every inch of it baby. Gonna fill that sweet ass up with my cock whether you like it or not.” He moaned as I began to slide in and out.

After a few seconds of fucking I shifted position so that one of my knees was between his thighs. Now I was at a better angle to tease my clit with the strapon, and I could balance my weight on my legs, freeing my hands to do other things. I kept one hand on his hip, squeezing it, using it to pull his pelvis toward me in time with my thrusts, occasionally giving him another smack. My other hand was at his wrists, pinning them down. Then in his hair, pulling his head back as I snarled: “oh yeah, you like that bitch, don’t you? Having that big ol cock all the way up in there, being used like the slutty little whore you are. We both know what a filthy sissy tramp you are, don’t we? DON’T WE?” He moans in helpless acquiescence as I yank his head back even harder.

I continued shoving my fucktool into him, telling him what a whore he was, a horny, cum-craving sissy whore, telling him that I knew slutty little sissy bitches like him needed their hungry asses filled, murmuring words of filthy humiliation in his ear as I ground my pelvis against his soft white ass. Until, at last (though it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes really), I came.

I always am a little surprised I don’t ejaculate when I cum. It sure FEELS like I do; a jumping, throbbing pulse that squeezeshoots out bursts of…something. From the cock that’s not my flesh squirting into the body of my lover/victim, which I can almost(still not really) feel squeezing around me. I guess it’s at these moments that I most feel a…lack…in my body, or a closeness to the genital equipment I might have opted for, if given a choice.

A-ny-way, back to my story…I gave tia’s ass one more smack and informed him “you’re a nice piece of ass bitch, a fine little piece of fuckmeat. I really enjoyed sticking it to you.” Three more pounding thrusts HARD into his butt to emphasize my point and I yanked my purple phallus out of his abused asshole.

“But you’re not done yet bitch” I continued, hastily scrubbing the dildo with my damp washcloth. (Were you wondering when I’d get to that?) I released one of his bound hands and tugged both arms so that I could re-tie them above his head. Then, moving to kneel beside his face, I unfastened the ball-gag and placed the tip of my cock against his lips. “You got my cock all dirty, now you have to lick it clean” I said as I shoved it into his whimpering mouth.

I swear, that boy never gives such good blowjobs as when he’s half asleep. Or maybe it’s just that his throat is more relaxed, he’s able to open up and let me just fuck the shit out of his face. That’s definitely what I was doing now; I’d meant to give a few thrusts just to drive home his enslavement and humiliation. But he was so receptive, taking my dick down his throat with such moaning ease, that I started to get really aroused again. I wound one hand through his hair and with the other reached down to grab his little cock. I kept pulling and yanking on it, roughly jerking him while I fucked his face. I didn’t think I was likely to cum again but it felt so good I didn’t want to stop. The physical sensations, the dildo pressing rhythmically against my mons, pulling his hair, feeling his cockette twitching in my hand…and the sense of sheer dominant triumph at having him helpless, at my mercy, and using him so…the combination was intoxicating.

But stop I did, eventually, pulling my dick out of his mouth with an audible ‘plop’. I smacked him with it a few times, rubbing his face in it, then used the palm of my hand for one last stinging slap on the cheek. “See you later bitch” I threatened, and as he lay there naked and trembling, hands still bound and whimpering with frustrated need, I walked, laughing, out the door.

Its Official: God exists.

I consider this a sign that there IS a God after all, and that he loves us kinky geeky types very much indeed!

A SCI FI BROTHEL IN VEGAS.

I MUST GO! :D

It is a Moral Imperative. Or an Immoral Imperative, if you prefer!