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swappermanent · 7 days ago

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Laying the Foundation

Owning a general contracting firm isn’t the most exciting job in the world, but it does have its perks. And by perks, I mostly mean the eye candy. Whether it’s a sweaty crew under the summer sun or a client’s husband who catches my attention during a site visit, there’s enough visual appeal to keep my day interesting.

I’m glad I can admit that now. For the first 40-something years of my life, I refused to acknowledge the part of me that liked men. It wasn’t just denial—it was an ironclad, church-fed certainty that I was the straightest man alive. I had the life to prove it too: a wife, two great kids, and a job that kept me too busy to dwell on feelings I wasn’t ready to confront.

But five years ago, I couldn’t lie anymore—at least not to myself or my wife. The realization hit me like a freight train one afternoon as I was scrolling aimlessly through my phone, and it scared the hell out of me. I’ll spare you the gory details of how I came out to her; it was messy, emotional, and one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. But if you knew her, you wouldn’t be surprised to hear how kind she was about it.

We got divorced. Not because she hated me—far from it—but because she deserved better. Someone who could love her fully, the way she’d loved me. She was understanding, even supportive, but understandably, she wanted a fresh start. She moved a few states away, which meant our boys, Elias and Remy, followed. They were in college by then, so it wasn’t like they needed me every day, but still—it stung not to see them as often.

Now, I only saw them on the breaks they got from school. Holidays, mostly. Elias was 22 and just starting to figure out his life, and Remy, at 19, was busy living his best college experience. They were good kids, and they didn’t resent me for coming out. At least, I didn’t think they did. But I could tell there were things they didn’t say, questions they didn’t ask. I tried not to push.

In the years since my divorce, I hadn’t exactly been a Casanova. You’d think that, as a newly single gay man, I’d dive headfirst into the wild world of dating apps and endless hookups. But it hadn’t played out that way. I didn’t know where to start, honestly. Bars felt too young for me, apps were overwhelming, and after decades of repressing this part of myself, I felt like I didn’t even know the rules.

And so, I stayed busy. Running my business. Keeping in touch with the boys. Pretending I wasn’t lonely. Pretending I wasn’t deeply, madly crushing on Tomas.

Tomas was one of my best guys—a foreman who had worked for me for almost six years. Early thirties, 6’1”, with the kind of lean, sculpted build that made work boots and a tool belt look like runway fashion. Tomas had short-cropped black hair, caramel skin that seemed to glow in the sun, and a confident swagger that made my heart skip a beat every time he walked past me.

He was also, without a doubt, the hottest man I’d ever laid eyes on. I wasn’t sure if it was his deep, musical laugh, the way his smile seemed to light up an entire room, or the sharp intelligence he brought to every project. Whatever it was, I was hooked. Hooked in a way that made my chest ache and my thoughts stray where they shouldn’t.

I knew I shouldn’t be thinking about him like that. I was his boss, for starters. And besides, for all I knew, he was straight and happily taken. But every time I saw him in the field, bending over to check a level or cracking a joke with the guys, I couldn’t help but fantasize. About what it would be like to pull him close, to feel his strength, to hear him say my name in a way that wasn’t professional.

I tried to keep my distance. Tried to focus on the work, on the business, on anything but the growing knot of desire that had taken up permanent residence in my chest. But Tomas was always there. Always just a few feet away, making me laugh, making me blush, making me feel things I hadn’t let myself feel in years.

I didn’t know what to do about it. Hell, I didn’t even know if there was anything to do about it. But one thing was for sure: I couldn’t take my mind off him.

---

The worst part about my unrequited crush on Tomas was the fact that I knew he was gay. I hadn’t guessed or pieced it together from subtle clues—no, I knew. I’d stumbled across his Grindr profile late one night while I was lying in bed, half-torturing myself by scrolling through profiles I had no intention of messaging.

Seeing his photo there had been like a punch to the gut. He looked incredible, of course—shirtless, smoldering, his chest lightly dusted with hair. I had stared at the profile for longer than I should have, memorizing the details: 33 years old, "masc4masc," and then the words that dashed any wild hopes I might have been clinging to: Please no guys over 30.

I closed the app immediately, my face burning with embarrassment even though no one else was there to see it. For days afterward, I kept replaying those words in my head. No guys over 30. Meanwhile, I was 50. Twenty years his senior, his boss, and, apparently, the exact opposite of what he was looking for.

After that, I resigned myself to suffering in silence. I’d accepted that my feelings for Tomas weren’t going anywhere and that I’d just have to live with it. It wasn’t like I could quit my job or fire him—he was too damn good at what he did, and I needed him on my team. So I kept my head down and my feelings buried, figuring that was the best I could do.

That is, until Miguel came along.

Miguel was the newest addition to the team, just 21 years old and fresh out of trade school. He was the youngest guy I’d ever hired, but he came with glowing recommendations, and within a week of working with him, it was clear they hadn’t been exaggerated. Miguel was a dynamo—hardworking, quick to learn, and always eager to take on more responsibility. He had an upbeat attitude that set him apart from the rest of the crew, and he never let the tougher, more grizzled guys intimidate him.

But while Miguel’s work ethic was impeccable, his looks were something else entirely. The kid was gorgeous. A fuckboy face if I’d ever seen one, with sharp cheekbones, thick lashes, a sexy dusting of a beard, and a jawline that could cut glass. His hair was a messy mop of jet-black curls, and his dark brown eyes sparkled with the kind of mischief that could make you question all your good decisions.

Even at his young age, Miguel had this natural charisma that drew people to him like moths to a flame. He wasn’t trying to be sexy—he just was. Whether it was the way he laughed or the easy confidence in his stride, you could tell he had everyone swooning at his feet. And that included Tomas.

I wasn’t blind. I saw the way Tomas’s eyes lingered on Miguel during lunch breaks or how he found excuses to talk to him on the job. At first, I thought it might just be professional—Tomas mentoring the new guy, making sure he felt welcome. But it didn’t take long to realize there was more to it than that. Tomas was interested in Miguel. You could see it in the way he stood just a little too close or laughed a little too hard at Miguel’s jokes.

The funny thing was, Miguel didn’t seem to notice his effect on everyone else. Despite his looks and charm, he had this air of innocence about him, like he didn’t quite realize the power he had. He worked hard, showed up early, and went home late, never sticking around for beers or banter with the guys. It was almost like he didn’t want to be seen as just a pretty face.

Watching the dynamic between Tomas and Miguel unfold was like a slow kind of torture. On the one hand, I wanted Tomas to be happy, even if it wasn’t with me. On the other hand, the idea of him falling for someone so much younger, so effortlessly magnetic, made my stomach churn with jealousy. Not toward Miguel, exactly—he hadn’t done anything wrong—but at the reminder of what I couldn’t have.

---

A few months into Miguel working with us, I reached my breaking point. Watching Tomas flirt with him day after day, while Miguel remained blissfully unaware, was driving me insane. Tomas’s lingering glances, the playful shoulder taps, the overly friendly banter—it was everything I’d fantasized about, happening right in front of me, but directed at someone else. Someone younger. Someone who didn’t even notice.

Damn it. Why couldn’t that be me?

I had to do something. Anything. The jealousy was eating me alive, and the hopelessness of my situation was unbearable. So, in a moment of desperation, I decided to use something unconventional. Something I’d never planned to use at all.

A few years ago, I’d taken a trip to South America—a solo getaway to clear my head after the divorce. While exploring a small town nestled in the Andes, I’d stumbled upon an old shop filled with trinkets, charms, and artifacts that seemed plucked from legend. One item caught my eye: a smooth, jet-black stone about the size of a silver dollar, etched with intricate carvings that seemed to shift when you looked at them too long. The shopkeeper had insisted it was a swapping stone, a relic capable of exchanging bodies between two willing participants.

At the time, I’d bought it as a novelty. A conversation piece. But now, staring at it on my nightstand, an idea took root in my mind—an idea so reckless and audacious that I couldn’t believe I was considering it.

The next morning, I pulled Miguel aside during a coffee break. He looked surprised but didn’t question it, following me into my office.

“What’s up, boss?” he asked, plopping down into the chair opposite me with his usual relaxed energy.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. “Miguel, I’ve been watching you these past few months, and I’ve got to say—you’ve been doing a hell of a job. The crew loves you, and you’ve been busting your ass out there.”

He shrugged, clearly uncomfortable with the praise. “Thanks, but I’m just doing my part.”

I nodded, then leaned forward, clasping my hands on the desk. “Look, I know how hard this kind of work is. It’s physically demanding, and you’ve been carrying a lot of weight for someone so young. So I wanted to offer you something.”

His eyebrows raised. “Offer me what?”

I pulled the stone out of my desk drawer and set it between us. “A swap.”

Miguel tilted his head, his confusion evident. “A swap?”

“Yes. A swap. With me.” I gestured toward the stone. “This… is a bit of a long story, but let’s just say it’s not an ordinary rock. It has the power to let us trade places—temporarily, of course. I’d take your body, and you’d take mine.”

Miguel stared at me, silent for a long moment, before letting out a disbelieving laugh. “Boss, are you feeling okay?”

“I’m serious.” I pushed the stone closer to him. “Think about it. You’re out there every day breaking your back, while I’m in here taking calls and pushing paperwork. If we swap, you’d get to enjoy the perks of being the boss—shorter hours, no manual labor. You could take my car, my house, my money. Do whatever you want for a while.”

His ears perked up at that. “Whatever I want?”

I chuckled. “Whatever you want. Look, I may be in my fifties, but I’m still in good shape, and I’ve got the resources to make it worth your while. You could have some fun. Live it up.”

Miguel leaned back in his chair, studying me. “Okay, but what’s in it for you? Why would you want to swap with me?”

I hesitated, trying to come up with something that didn’t make me sound like a crazy old man. “Honestly? I’ve been in this business a long time, and I want to understand it better. Really get a feel for what it’s like to be on the ground again.”

Miguel raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical.

“And…” I added, with a sheepish grin, “maybe I want to relive my youth a bit. See what it’s like to be in my twenties again. Humor an old man, will you?”

That got him. He burst out laughing, shaking his head. “Man, you’re something else.”

“So, what do you say?” I asked, my heart pounding.

Miguel studied the stone, his lips pressed into a thoughtful line. Then he looked back at me, a mischievous glint in his eye. “If you’re serious, boss, then yeah. Why not? Let’s do it.”

Little did he know, my motivations had nothing to do with reliving my youth or gaining a new perspective. My eyes were set firmly on Tomas,

We both stood in my office, the stone resting between us on the desk. Miguel seemed skeptical but game, his trademark grin lighting up his face. I couldn’t help but marvel at his confidence—effortless, natural, the kind that came with being young and having the world at your feet.

“So, what’s the magic phrase, boss?” he asked, clearly humoring me.

“It’s in Spanish,” I said, picking up the stone and holding it out to him. “I did get it in Chile, after all. We both have to hold it and say, ‘Quiero cambiar.’ It means, ‘I want to swap.’ Simple enough, right?”

Miguel gave me a look that was equal parts curiosity and amusement, then shrugged. “Alright, boss. Let’s see this thing work.”

He wrapped his calloused hand around one side of the stone, and I gripped the other. For a moment, I hesitated, wondering if this was really the right thing to do. But then I glanced at him, at the youthful energy in his face and the opportunity shimmering in his eyes, and I knew there was no turning back.

We spoke the words together: “Quiero cambiar.”

The moment the last syllable left my lips, I felt it. A strange warmth radiated from the stone, seeping into my palm and spreading up my arm like a current. My back arched involuntarily, and a sensation like liquid sunlight flooded my chest, pulling me out of myself. It wasn’t painful, but it was overwhelming—intense, euphoric, like every nerve in my body was alight.

Across from me, Miguel was going through the same thing. His head tilted back, his body trembling as the same warm glow overtook him. I could hear his sharp intake of breath, followed by a low, guttural moan. We both stumbled a step back, clutching at the air, though there wasn’t anything visible leaving our bodies—just the overwhelming sense of movement.

And then it stopped. Like flipping a switch, the warmth vanished, leaving me standing there, panting, in Miguel’s body.

The first thing I noticed was how much lighter I felt. My limbs moved easily, like I could leap ten feet in the air if I tried. My skin was smooth, my shoulders lean but sturdy. I raised a hand to my cheek, running my fingers along the softer, smoother surface, and then down to my abs—firm and defined, cobblestones under my touch. It was like my body had been built in a dream.

Miguel, now in my body, flexed one of my arms experimentally. “Damn, boss,” he said with a laugh, staring at my bicep, which was massive and veined from years of heavy lifting. “I don’t know if my body’s really any better than yours.”

He turned to the small mirror on the wall, lifting my shirt and giving my old body’s abs a quick once-over. “You’ve been holding out on me, man! If I looked like this at 50, I’d be showing it off all the time.”

I let out a nervous laugh, still getting used to the sound of Miguel’s voice coming out of my mouth. “Yeah, I’m not so sure about that,” I said, my fingers grazing over my new, perfectly sculpted abs. “This feels like a serious upgrade.”

Miguel smirked, striking a mock pose and letting out a low whistle. “You’re not wrong. Your body’s hot as hell now. Don’t break too many hearts, alright?”

I grinned, I had quite the opposite in mind.

#Brett Miles #Peterisf1t #bicepsking

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mostlysignssomeportents · 2 years ago

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Gig apps trap reverse centaurs in Skinner boxes

Enshittification is the process by which digital platforms devour themselves: first they dangle goodies in front of end users. Once users are locked in, the goodies are taken away and dangled before business customers who supply goods to the users. Once those business customers are stuck on the platform, the goodies are clawed away and showered on the platform’s shareholders:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/21/potemkin-ai/#hey-guys

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/12/algorithmic-wage-discrimination/#fishers-of-men

Enshittification isn’t just another way of saying “fraud” or “price gouging” or “wage theft.” Enshittification is intrinsically digital, because moving all those goodies around requires the flexibility that only comes with a digital businesses. Jeff Bezos, grocer, can’t rapidly change the price of eggs at Whole Foods without an army of kids with pricing guns on roller-skates. Jeff Bezos, grocer, can change the price of eggs on Amazon Fresh just by twiddling a knob on the service’s back-end.

Twiddling is the key to enshittification: rapidly adjusting prices, conditions and offers. As with any shell game, the quickness of the hand deceives the eye. Tech monopolists aren’t smarter than the Gilded Age sociopaths who monopolized rail or coal — they use the same tricks as those monsters of history, but they do them faster and with computers:

https://doctorow.medium.com/twiddler-1b5c9690cce6

If Rockefeller wanted to crush a freight company, he couldn’t just click a mouse and lay down a pipeline that ran on the same route, and then click another mouse to make it go away when he was done. When Bezos wants to bankrupt Diapers.com — a company that refused to sell itself to Amazon — he just moved a slider so that diapers on Amazon were being sold below cost. Amazon lost $100m over three months, diapers.com went bankrupt, and every investor learned that competing with Amazon was a losing bet:

https://slate.com/technology/2013/10/amazon-book-how-jeff-bezos-went-thermonuclear-on-diapers-com.html

That’s the power of twiddling — but twiddling cuts both ways. The same flexibility that digital businesses enjoy is hypothetically available to workers and users. The airlines pioneered twiddling ticket prices, and that naturally gave rise to countertwiddling, in the form of comparison shopping sites that scraped the airlines’ sites to predict when tickets would be cheapest:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/27/knob-jockeys/#bros-be-twiddlin

The airlines — like all abusive businesses — refused to tolerate this. They were allowed to touch their knobs as much as they wanted — indeed, they couldn’t stop touching those knobs — but when we tried to twiddle back, that was “felony contempt of business model,” and the airlines sued:

https://www.cnbc.com/2014/12/30/airline-sues-man-for-founding-a-cheap-flights-website.html

And sued:

https://www.nytimes.com/2018/01/06/business/southwest-airlines-lawsuit-prices.html

Platforms don’t just hate it when end-users twiddle back — if anything they are even more aggressive when their business-users dare to twiddle. Take Para, an app that Doordash drivers used to get a peek at the wages offered for jobs before they accepted them — something that Doordash hid from its workers. Doordash ruthlessly attacked Para, saying that by letting drivers know how much they’d earn before they did the work, Para was violating the law:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2021/08/tech-rights-are-workers-rights-doordash-edition

Which law? Well, take your pick. The modern meaning of “IP” is “any law that lets me use the law to control my competitors, competition or customers.” Platforms use a mix of anticircumvention law, patent, copyright, contract, cybersecurity and other legal systems to weave together a thicket of rules that allow them to shut down rivals for their Felony Contempt of Business Model:

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

Enshittification relies on unlimited twiddling (by platforms), and a general prohibition on countertwiddling (by platform users). Enshittification is a form of fishing, in which bait is dangled before different groups of users and then nimbly withdrawn when they lunge for it. Twiddling puts the suppleness into the enshittifier’s fishing-rod, and a ban on countertwiddling weighs down platform users so they’re always a bit too slow to catch the bait.

Nowhere do we see twiddling’s impact more than in the “gig economy,” where workers are misclassified as independent contractors and put to work for an app that scripts their every move to the finest degree. When an app is your boss, you work for an employer who docks your pay for violating rules that you aren’t allowed to know — and where your attempts to learn those rules are constantly frustrated by the endless back-end twiddling that changes the rules faster than you can learn them.

As with every question of technology, the issue isn’t twiddling per se — it’s who does the twiddling and who gets twiddled. A worker armed with digital tools can play gig work employers off each other and force them to bid up the price of their labor; they can form co-ops with other workers that auto-refuse jobs that don’t pay enough, and use digital tools to organize to shift power from bosses to workers:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/02/not-what-it-does/#who-it-does-it-to

Take “reverse centaurs.” In AI research, a “centaur” is a human assisted by a machine that does more than either could do on their own. For example, a chess master and a chess program can play a better game together than either could play separately. A reverse centaur is a machine assisted by a human, where the machine is in charge and the human is a meat-puppet.

Think of Amazon warehouse workers wearing haptic location-aware wristbands that buzz at them continuously dictating where their hands must be; or Amazon drivers whose eye-movements are continuously tracked in order to penalize drivers who look in the “wrong” direction:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/17/reverse-centaur/#reverse-centaur

The difference between a centaur and a reverse centaur is the difference between a machine that makes your life better and a machine that makes your life worse so that your boss gets richer. Reverse centaurism is the 21st Century’s answer to Taylorism, the pseudoscience that saw white-coated “experts” subject workers to humiliating choreography down to the smallest movement of your fingertip:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/21/great-taylors-ghost/#solidarity-or-bust

While reverse centaurism was born in warehouses and other company-owned facilities, gig work let it make the leap into workers’ homes and cars. The 21st century has seen a return to the cottage industry — a form of production that once saw workers labor far from their bosses and thus beyond their control — but shriven of the autonomy and dignity that working from home once afforded:

https://doctorow.medium.com/gig-work-is-the-opposite-of-steampunk-463e2730ef0d

The rise and rise of bossware — which allows for remote surveillance of workers in their homes and cars — has turned “work from home” into “live at work.” Reverse centaurs can now be chickenized — a term from labor economics that describes how poultry farmers, who sell their birds to one of three vast poultry processors who have divided up the country like the Pope dividing up the “New World,” are uniquely exploited:

https://onezero.medium.com/revenge-of-the-chickenized-reverse-centaurs-b2e8d5cda826

A chickenized reverse centaur has it rough: they must pay for the machines they use to make money for their bosses, they must obey the orders of the app that controls their work, and they are denied any of the protections that a traditional worker might enjoy, even as they are prohibited from deploying digital self-help measures that let them twiddle back to bargain for a better wage.

All of this sets the stage for a phenomenon called algorithmic wage discrimination, in which two workers doing the same job under the same conditions will see radically different payouts for that work. These payouts are continuously tweaked in the background by an algorithm that tries to predict the minimum sum a worker will accept to remain available without payment, to ensure sufficient workers to pick up jobs as they arise.

This phenomenon — and proposed policy and labor solutions to it — is expertly analyzed in “On Algorithmic Wage Discrimination,” a superb paper by UC Law San Franciscos Veena Dubal:

https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=4331080

Dubal uses empirical data and enthnographic accounts from Uber drivers and other gig workers to explain how endless, self-directed twiddling allows gig companies pay workers less and pay themselves more. As @[email protected] explains in his LA Times article on Dubal’s research, the goal of the payment algorithm is to guess how often a given driver needs to receive fair compensation in order to keep them driving when the payments are unfair:

https://www.latimes.com/business/technology/story/2023-04-11/algorithmic-wage-discrimination

The algorithm combines nonconsensual dossiers compiled on individual drivers with population-scale data to seek an equilibrium between keeping drivers waiting, unpaid, for a job; and how much a driver needs to be paid for an individual job, in order to keep that driver from clocking out and doing something else. @ Here’s how that works. Sergio Avedian, a writer for The Rideshare Guy, ran an experiment with two brothers who both drove for Uber; one drove a Tesla and drove intermittently, the other brother rented a hybrid sedan and drove frequently. Sitting side-by-side with the brothers, Avedian showed how the brother with the Tesla was offered more for every trip:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UADTiL3S67I

Uber wants to lure intermittent drivers into becoming frequent drivers. Uber doesn’t pay for an oversupply of drivers, because it only pays drivers when they have a passenger in the car. Having drivers on call — but idle — is a way for Uber to shift the cost of maintaining a capacity cushion to its workers.

What’s more, what Uber charges customers is not based on how much it pays its workers. As Uber’s head of product explained: Uber uses “machine-learning techniques to estimate how much groups of customers are willing to shell out for a ride. Uber calculates riders’ propensity for paying a higher price for a particular route at a certain time of day. For instance, someone traveling from a wealthy neighborhood to another tony spot might be asked to pay more than another person heading to a poorer part of town, even if demand, traffic and distance are the same.”

https://qz.com/990131/uber-is-practicing-price-discrimination-economists-say-that-might-not-be-a-bad-thing/

Uber has historically described its business a pure supply-and-demand matching system, where a rush of demand for rides triggers surge pricing, which lures out drivers, which takes care of the demand. That’s not how it works today, and it’s unclear if it ever worked that way. Today, a driver who consults the rider version of the Uber app before accepting a job — to compare how much the rider is paying to how much they stand to earn — is booted off the app and denied further journeys.

Surging, instead, has become just another way to twiddle drivers. One of Dubal’s subjects, Derrick, describes how Uber uses fake surges to lure drivers to airports: “You go to the airport, once the lot get kind of full, then the surge go away.” Other drivers describe how they use groupchats to call out fake surges: “I’m in the Marina. It’s dead. Fake surge.”

That’s pure twiddling. Twiddling turns gamification into gamblification, where your labor buys you a spin on a roulette wheel in a rigged casino. As a driver called Melissa, who had doubled down on her availability to earn a $100 bonus awarded for clocking a certain number of rides, told Dubal, “When you get close to the bonus, the rides start trickling in more slowly…. And it makes sense. It’s really the type of shit that they can do when it’s okay to have a surplus labor force that is just sitting there that they don’t have to pay for.”

Wherever you find reverse-centaurs, you get this kind of gamblification, where the rules are twiddled continuously to make sure that the house always wins. As a contract driver Amazon reverse centaur told Lauren Gurley for Motherboard, “Amazon uses these cameras allegedly to make sure they have a safer driving workforce, but they’re actually using them not to pay delivery companies”:

https://www.vice.com/en/article/88npjv/amazons-ai-cameras-are-punishing-drivers-for-mistakes-they-didnt-make

Algorithmic wage discrimination is the robot overlord of our nightmares: its job is to relentlessly quest for vulnerabilities and exploit them. Drivers divide themselves into “ants” (drivers who take every job) and “pickers” (drivers who cherry-pick high-paying jobs). The algorithm’s job is ensuring that pickers get the plum assignments, not the ants, in the hopes of converting those pickers to app-dependent ants.

In my work on enshittification, I call this the “giant teddy bear” gambit. At every county fair, you’ll always spot some poor jerk carrying around a giant teddy-bear they “won” on the midway. But they didn’t win it — not by getting three balls in the peach-basket. Rather, the carny running the rigged game either chose not to operate the “scissor” that kicks balls out of the basket. Or, if the game is “honest” (that is, merely impossible to win, rather than gimmicked), the operator will make a too-good-to-refuse offer: “Get one ball in and I’ll give you this keychain. Win two keychains and I’ll let you trade them for this giant teddy bear.”

Carnies aren’t in the business of giving away giant teddy bears — rather, the gambit is an investment. Giving a mark a giant teddy bear to carry around the midway all day acts as a convincer, luring other marks to try to land three balls in the basket and win their own teddy bear.

In the same way, platforms like Uber distribute giant teddy bears to pickers, as a way of keeping the ants scurrying from job to job, and as a way of convincing the pickers to give up whatever work allows them to discriminate among Uber’s offers and hold out for the plum deals, whereupon then can be transmogrified into ants themselves.

Dubal describes the experience of Adil, a Syrian refugee who drives for Uber in the Bay Area. His colleagues are pickers, and showed him screenshots of how much they earned. Determined to get a share of that money, Adil became a model ant, driving two hours to San Francisco, driving three days straight, napping in his car, spending only one day per week with his family. The algorithm noticed that Adil needed the work, so it paid him less.

Adil responded the way the system predicted he would, by driving even more: “My friends they make it, so I keep going, maybe I can figure it out. It’s unsecure, and I don’t know how people they do it. I don’t know how I am doing it, but I have to. I mean, I don’t find another option. In a minute, if I find something else, oh man, I will be out immediately. I am a very patient person, that’s why I can continue.”

Another driver, Diego, told Dubal about how the winners of the giant teddy bears fell into the trap of thinking that they were “good at the app”: “Any time there’s some big shot getting high pay outs, they always shame everyone else and say you don’t know how to use the app. I think there’s secret PR campaigns going on that gives targeted payouts to select workers, and they just think it’s all them.”

That’s the power of twiddling: by hoarding all the flexibility offered by digital tools, the management at platforms can become centaurs, able to string along thousands of workers, while the workers are reverse-centaurs, puppeteered by the apps.

As the example of Adil shows, the algorithm doesn’t need to be very sophisticated in order to figure out which workers it can underpay. The system automates the kind of racial and gender discrimination that is formally illegal, but which is masked by the smokescreen of digitization. An employer who systematically paid women less than men, or Black people less than white people, would be liable to criminal and civil sanctions. But if an algorithm simply notices that people who have fewer job prospects drive more and will thus accept lower wages, that’s just “optimization,” not racism or sexism.

This is the key to understanding the AI hype bubble: when ghouls from multinational banks predict 13 trillion dollar markets for “AI,” what they mean is that digital tools will speed up the twiddling and other wage-suppression techniques to transfer $13T in value from workers and consumers to shareholders.

The American business lobby is relentlessly focused on the goal of reducing wages. That’s the force behind “free trade,” “right to work,” and other codewords for “paying workers less,” including “gig work.” Tech workers long saw themselves as above this fray, immune to labor exploitation because they worked for a noble profession that took care of its own.

But the epidemic of mass tech-worker layoffs, following on the heels of massive stock buybacks, has demonstrated that tech bosses are just like any other boss: willing to pay as little as they can get away with, and no more. Tech bosses are so comfortable with their market dominance and the lock-in of their customers that they are happy to turn out hundreds of thousands of skilled workers, convinced that the twiddling systems they’ve built are the kinds of self-licking ice-cream cones that are so simple even a manager can use them — no morlocks required.

The tech worker layoffs are best understood as an all-out war on tech worker morale, because that morale is the source of tech workers’ confidence and thus their demands for a larger share of the value generated by their labor. The current tech layoff template is very different from previous tech layoffs: today’s layoffs are taking place over a period of months, long after they are announced, and laid off tech worker is likely to be offered a months of paid post-layoff work, rather than severance. This means that tech workplaces are now haunted by the walking dead, workers who have been laid off but need to come into the office for months, even as the threat of layoffs looms over the heads of the workers who remain. As an old friend, recently laid off from Microsoft after decades of service, wrote to me, this is “a new arrow in the quiver of bringing tech workers to heel and ensuring that we’re properly thankful for the jobs we have (had?).”

Dubal is interested in more than analysis, she’s interested in action. She looks at the tactics already deployed by gig workers, who have not taken all this abuse lying down. Workers in the UK and EU organized through Worker Info Exchange and the App Drivers and Couriers Union have used the GDPR (the EU’s privacy law) to demand “algorithmic transparency,” as well as access to their data. In California, drivers hope to use similar provisions in the CCPA (a state privacy law) to do the same.

These efforts have borne fruit. When Cornell economists, led by Louis Hyman, published research (paid for by Uber) claiming that Uber drivers earned an average of $23/hour, it was data from these efforts that revealed the true average Uber driver’s wage was $9.74. Subsequent research in California found that Uber drivers’ wage fell to $6.22/hour after the passage of Prop 22, a worker misclassification law that gig companies spent $225m to pass, only to have the law struck down because of a careless drafting error:

https://www.latimes.com/california/newsletter/2021-08-23/proposition-22-lyft-uber-decision-essential-california

But Dubal is skeptical that data-coops and transparency will achieve transformative change and build real worker power. Knowing how the algorithm works is useful, but it doesn’t mean you can do anything about it, not least because the platform owners can keep touching their knobs, twiddling the payout schedule on their rigged slot-machines.

Data co-ops start from the proposition that “data extraction is an inevitable form of labor for which workers should be remunerated.” It makes on-the-job surveillance acceptable, provided that workers are compensated for the spying. But co-ops aren’t unions, and they don’t have the power to bargain for a fair price for that data, and coops themselves lack the vast resources — “to store, clean, and understand” — data.

Co-ops are also badly situated to understand the true value of the data that is extracted from their members: “Workers cannot know whether the data collected will, at the population level, violate the civil rights of others or amplifies their own social oppression.”

Instead, Dubal wants an outright, nonwaivable prohibition on algorithmic wage discrimination. Just make it illegal. If firms cannot use gambling mechanisms to control worker behavior through variable pay systems, they will have to find ways to maintain flexible workforces while paying their workforce predictable wages under an employment model. If a firm cannot manage wages through digitally-determined variable pay systems, then the firm is less likely to employ algorithmic management.”

In other words, rather than using market mechanisms too constrain platform twiddling, Dubal just wants to make certain kinds of twiddling illegal. This is a growing trend in legal scholarship. For example, the economist Ramsi Woodcock has proposed a ban on surge pricing as a per se violation of Section 1 of the Sherman Act:

https://ilr.law.uiowa.edu/print/volume-105-issue-4/the-efficient-queue-and-the-case-against-dynamic-pricing

Similarly, Dubal proposes that algorithmic wage discrimination violates another antitrust law: the Robinson-Patman Act, which “bans sellers from charging competing buyers different prices for the same commodity. Robinson-Patman enforcement was effectively halted under Reagan, kicking off a host of pathologies, like the rise of Walmart:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/27/walmarts-jackals/#cheater-sizes

I really liked Dubal’s legal reasoning and argument, and to it I would add a call to reinvigorate countertwiddling: reforming laws that get in the way of workers who want to reverse-engineer, spoof, and control the apps that currently control them. Adversarial interoperability (AKA competitive compatibility or comcom) is key tool for building worker power in an era of digital Taylorism:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2019/10/adversarial-interoperability

To see how that works, look to other jursidictions where workers have leapfrogged their European and American cousins, such as Indonesia, where gig workers and toolsmiths collaborate to make a whole suite of “tuyul apps,” which let them override the apps that gig companies expect them to use.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/07/08/tuyul-apps/#gojek

For example, ride-hailing companies won’t assign a train-station pickup to a driver unless they’re circling the station — which is incredibly dangerous during the congested moments after a train arrives. A tuyul app lets a driver park nearby and then spoof their phone’s GPS fix to the ridehailing company so that they appear to be right out front of the station.

In an ideal world, those workers would have a union, and be able to dictate the app’s functionality to their bosses. But workers shouldn’t have to wait for an ideal world: they don’t just need jam tomorrow — they need jam today. Tuyul apps, and apps like Para, which allow workers to extract more money under better working conditions, are a prelude to unionization and employer regulation, not a substitute for it.

Employers will not give workers one iota more power than they have to. Just look at the asymmetry between the regulation of union employees versus union busters. Under US law, employees of a union need to account for every single hour they work, every mile they drive, every location they visit, in public filings. Meanwhile, the union-busting industry — far larger and richer than unions — operate under a cloak of total secrecy, Workers aren’t even told which union busters their employers have hired — let alone get an accounting of how those union busters spend money, or how many of them are working undercover, pretending to be workers in order to sabotage the union.

Twiddling will only get an employer so far. Twiddling — like all “AI” — is based on analyzing the past to predict the future. The heuristics an algorithm creates to lure workers into their cars can’t account for rapid changes in the wider world, which is why companies who relied on “AI” scheduling apps (for example, to prevent their employees from logging enough hours to be entitled to benefits) were caught flatfooted by the Great Resignation.

Workers suddenly found themselves with bargaining power thanks to the departure of millions of workers — a mix of early retirees and workers who were killed or permanently disabled by covid — and they used that shortage to demand a larger share of the fruits of their labor. The outraged howls of the capital class at this development were telling: these companies are operated by the kinds of “capitalists” that MLK once identified, who want “socialism for the rich and rugged individualism for the poor.”

https://twitter.com/KaseyKlimes/status/821836823022354432/

There's only 5 days left in the Kickstarter campaign for the audiobook of my next novel, a post-cyberpunk anti-finance finance thriller about Silicon Valley scams called Red Team Blues. Amazon's Audible refuses to carry my audiobooks because they're DRM free, but crowdfunding makes them possible.

Image: Stephen Drake (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Analog_Test_Array_modular_synth_by_sduck409.jpg

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en

—

Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

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Louis (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Chestnut_horse_head,_all_excited.jpg

CC BY-SA 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/deed.en

[Image ID: A complex mandala of knobs from a modular synth. In the foreground, limned in a blue electric halo, is a man in a hi-viz vest with the head of a horse. The horse's eyes have been replaced with the sinister red eyes of HAL9000 from Kubrick's '2001: A Space Odyssey.'"]

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agirlandherkinks · 11 months ago

Text

Hypnovisor: Beta Test (TGTF, Hypno)

James had always been a tech super-fan. The newest phone, newest headphones, shiniest laptop, he had to stay abreast of and on top of the current trends. So when he read about some fancy new VR company that wanted beta testers for a headset, provided for free (minus shipping), his vision blurred and he signed up before he even considered finishing reading the ad.

Three weeks of anticipation and waiting passed until his doorbell finally rung, accompanied by the corresponding buzz of an email notification on his phone. Scrambling from his couch he flung the apartment door open, and to his mild surprise saw that the postman was nowhere in site. There was just a nondescript cardboard box labelled "Fragile", which fortunately bore none of the expected dents and scratches one would associate with the postal service and delicate freight. Practically bouncing with undignified delight, James scooped his parcel up and dashed back inside, barely remembering to lock the door behind him.

The headset looked even better than he had imagined. Sleek plastic curves surrounded a central visor that was just translucent enough to see through, meaning you could walk around safely if you turned a program's opacity down. It fit beautifully when he tried it on, more comfortable than anything he'd ever worn. Wearing it felt wonderful and... right, somehow. His only complaint was that the black headset was decorated in hot pink highlights, although it still looked futuristic enough to sooth his fragile masculinity. His roommate and best friend Erik certainly agreed, interspersing James' insightful comments with appropriate "Ooh's" and "Aah's". Waiting for the battery to charge seemed to take a thousand years, although chatting with each other about what it could do replaced their boredom with swiftly growing excitement.

Two hours later, a soft buzz from the headset in the corner signified its charge was complete. Erik cheered, his sandy-blonde hair bouncing behind him, and even James couldn't suppress a soft whoop of excitement. Erik unplugged it and handed it to James with a flourish and a bow, who accepted it with a suitable stuffy speech. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment, but he was so giddy with anticipation he felt he could match Erik's goofiness for once. The advertisement had promised unmatched realism, a luxurious fit, and cutting-edge, groundbreaking technology. Normally James would have discounted claims like that as corporate claptrap, but the headset fit so well he actually believed the rest of it.

Booting up the headset brought a perky, relaxing jingle in his ears and wall of settings text in his vision. He would have read it, but between his own excitement and Erik's infectious enthusiasm he left the settings on default and skipped to the main menu. The feedback for the buttons was amazing, it felt just like he was pressing down on them whenever he touched one! Another little jingle sounded as he confirmed his choices, and a few games and applications bubbled up into his view, imposed over a hot pink background.

"So Erik, what do you think I should try," James asked. "We've got a music player, interior design app, some sorta idle monster game, and a few RPG's." "Surely try out the RPG's man! You've gotta see that high-definition you were yammering about when we called." Erik's voice came back surprisingly muffled, as if he was speaking down a long tunnel. "Bro, I can barely hear you, the noise-cancelling on this headset's insane! It's like I'm in a world of my own!" James took a deep breath, recovering a little of his composure. "Alright, an RPG it is. Fantasy, sci-fi, or modern day?" "Go fantasy! You know we've both got a thing for elf chiiiicks. Hell, with the kind of feedback you were telling me about, you might even get to grab her" Erik's distant voice sounded playful, with a ting of desire and jealousy. And it did make James hard, at the thought of getting to look and squeeze and fondle some busty elf bitch, made entirely to his wishes~

To James' horror a quiet moan escaped his lips, accompanied by faint hysterical laughter from his friend. Brushing it off angrily, he slammed the icon for 'Silverflame: A Magical Journey' (the button felt like thick moss to his touch). Instantly a soft flute begun to play in his ears, accompanied by the gentle lull of a harp and a quiet sparkling. James felt himself relax, all the tension draining out of his body. Erik must have noticed too, because James heard his laughter die down to be replaced with a slightly concerned silence. "Don't worry man," James said, "music's just really pretty..." He trailed off with a slight giggle, but heard Erik give an affirmative just before a silky, sultry voice started to speak.

"Welcome traveler, to the beautiful world of Silverflame. An untamed paradise where strange beasts roam the land, noble adventurers go forth in search of treasure, and the most wonderful magic [James shuddered] is woven. You are the latest brave, beautiful heroine [Heroine? Shouldn't I get to choose my character's gender first?] to step foot into this land. But first, tell us a bit about who you really are."

Pink sparkles rained across the screen, superimposing his view of a vibrant meadow with a series of stats. Physique, IQ, Wisdom, and Charisma, fairly standard stuff. And next to it, a human man with a blank, slightly happy expression on his face [...did he look familiar?]. James gasped, he looked just like a real person! Erik was suitably impressed by this information, and urged him to pick some stats so he can get to the body modification. "You can always change them later man, might as well pick a couple of stats now and get a move on. Sounds like you're not gonna get to pick your gender for a while, which kinda sucks. Buuut if we're being horny about this, you might as well go for a slut scaffold so you make less changes later." James chuckled at this, remembering the build they discussed one night while both sloshed beyond belief. For this game it would be high Physique and Charisma, low IQ and Wisdom. James touched the slider for Physique, and gasped as he felt himself feel... better than he had in a long time.

Not trusting his senses any more, and worrying about Erik being exposed to whatever was happening from the other side of the headset, James brushed off his concerned questions (which he could barely hear now, past the soothing, soothing, music) and suggested he went to the toilet, since he'd been holding it in since he got here. Erik grumbled at missing out, but mercifully left. James was actively sweating from what just went through his body, but couldn't muster the energy or concentration to feel the level of panic he knew he should be. The music was just so, so calming, that fear was harder to feel than usual. The prompt told him he still had to change two more stats, so he decided to turn down Wisdom. He gasped again and his vision went blurry, and when it cleared he felt a bit, fuzzier? In the head. But it wasn't too bad, in fact it was perfectly manageable. He felt even calmer now, so maybe changing another stats would make him feel better. Why not IQ? He tapped the slider.

He groaned as an immense pressure wrapped around his brain. Thoughts, aspirations, memories felt like they were melting from his head faster than they appeared. The pressure seemed like it lasted forever, but eventually it trailed off and he was left panting in his chair. It had felt, really good? Like, tots good, even. James giggled to himself. Something was different about him, but he couldn't think what. Oh well, it'll probably come to him later. He squealed in delight as he realized he could get a step closer to the body modification page, although he looked longingly at the IQ slider. He could come back to it later, for now it was time to make his super-hot elf slut a body!

James clapped to himself with delight as a cute little melody played, a shower of sparkles spiraled [spiraled...] across the screen, and the man on the side moved to the center of the screen. "Firstly", the sultry voice said, "choose what race you want to be." That was an easy choice. He clicked on the 'Elf' button, and shivered as he felt tingles run through his body, intensifying in his ears. Reaching up to touch them, he inhaled as he felt long, pointed tips. In fact, his whole body seemed a bit slimmer. This doesn't quite feel right... he thought. Oh I know! It must be making me an elf too! Maybe we'll be in a party together! Between the strange fuzziness and the pulsating heat in his groin, James quickly flicked to the next page and made his choices. Long, silver hair, gorgeous big purple eyes, and some giant perky lips. "Combination unlocked!" the narrator exclaimed, "+1 Charisma, -1 Wisdom!" James giggled again as the mental fog settled a little tighter around his brain and naughty thoughts about cute girls and boys filled his brain. Boys? Well I guess I've never minded swinging both ways... This felt natural to him, because of course he'd always been bisexual. Next screen!

"Choose your voice young heroine," the woman commanded. James felt a little strange, like her voice was echoing around his head. And why were the sparkles still there, spinning and spinning around the screen. He felt confused, but knew he had to obey that voice. He picked the sexiest combination for his own voice; high pitched, breathy, perky. "Combination unlocked! +1 Charisma, -1 Int." He moaned as that wonderful pressure wrapped his brain and his weekend plans changed to eyeing hunks at the beach. Girls were cool and all, but men had always been more interesting to him [and their pulsing, hard...].

"Now heroine, can you tell me: Are you a girl, or a boy?" The question sent shock waves through his brain. He was a he... right? Why did it feel like there was some longing, some need to acknowledge the woman in him... her? The fog, the music, the spirals, all the feelings he had been having, James could hardly think. Maybe he should think less. Being a girl sounded fun, it's just a character after all. And he needed to be sexy. "Wonderful choice young lady! Now, are you a dominatrix, a super-switch, or a bimbo slut?" Bimbo slut~ James giggled as the words echoed in her brain. She was a bit of a slut, now that she thought about it. It felt odd to pick it, but why not for funsies? "Bimbo slut selected! Wonderful choice, just wonderful. Hold still while your stats are adjusted, and then we'll begin on giving you the perfect, sexy body you've always wanted."

The spirals filled her view and began increasing in speed. James was taken aback at first, but quickly felt oddly calm and receptive to that sultry voice.

"Physique +1, Physique +1, Physique +1." James felt wonderful, like every ache and blemish in his body had faded away.

"Wisdom -1, Wisdom -1." Thinking was fuzzy, but Jamella felt so content she didn't care.

"Charisma +1, Charisma +1, Charisma +1, Charisma +1. Charisma +1." Jamella gasped as visions of sexy men, pecs and abs and juicy, throbbing cocks filled her mind. A desperate heat filled her, and she began touching her groin against her will to try and ease it.

"IQ -1." She moaned, feeling light.

"IQ-1." Empty. She was so, wonderfully empty.

"IQ -1." This was like, so much funsies! She didn't know what was going on, but everything felt so nice~

"IQ -1. Congratulations Ella, you now have the 'Bimbo Slut' build."

Ella giggled absently. Thinking was like, so hard, and she felt like, so hard~. The fun spirals had disappeared... But the nice lady was talking to her again! With great effort, she listened in. "Now that your mental changes are complete, it's time for the physical changes!" Ella rubbed her thighs together and cheered in excitement. She couldn't wait to have more fun! "Unless you choose so now, the process will be au-to-ma-tic [...why was she using such big words?]. You can choose to take over at any time, or wait until the end and adjust as you please [...please. That word felt funny in her brain]".

"No user input detected. Body adjustment commencing."

A nice shiver went through Ella's body as she felt her headset warm against her face. Looking at the boring young man she'd begun to customize (her reflection, of course), she couldn't wait to begin! She sighed happily as waves of pretty silver hair drifted into her view and cascaded down her back. It felt especially nice against her smooth, soft skin, and she couldn't help but gently shake her head to watch it sway. A cool feeling brought her attention to her face, and the alluring amethyst eyes now set in it. Her face itself became much more elegant [but cutesy, too!], and she puckered her lips as a lovely pressure made them swell and bulge out, giving her a sexy and kissable pout [the boys'll love this look! boys~]. She felt herself shrink a few centimeters, gulping as her Adam's apple disappeared into her body. In fact, her whole body had become even more slender, with narrow shoulders, adorably small hands [pretty purple nails!], and a tiny little waist. She gasped, then clasped her hands over her mouth in delight. Her voice was so high and cutesy! She couldn't stop herself from giving out tiny, high-pitched giggles, just to hear how cute she was!

"Basic body structure altered. Adjusting outfit in preparation for primary and secondary sexual characteristics."

Ella ooh'ed appreciatively as a stream of sparkles enveloped her body. And when they disappeared, she squealed in delight! Her drab t-shirt and denim shorts were gone! In their place was a beautiful silver mini-dress that shimmered like starlight when she moved. She frowned in vexation, though. The plunging chest and shoulder-less design was very pretty, but her chest was flat! [shouldn't I have tiddies? The boys won't like me like this...] And the way it clung to her waist and hips would have been sexy, but as it was there was barely any difference between them! Her ass wasn't nearly big enough to justify how the dress cut off barely past it, and with how tight the fabric was Ella could see how achingly hard she was [wait, why do I have a cock? I'm supposed to get cock! In my mouth, in my ass, in my tight little pussy~]. It wasn't right!

"Thank you for your patience sweetie. Optimal figure calculated. Prepare for adjustment of sexual characteristics."

Ella let out a moan as a wave of heat and pleasure washed over her. With how horny she was she could barely keep her eyes open, but she knew she wanted to watch herself become the sexy little [cum] slut she was meant to be [I want it... I want to be~]. The heat settled in her hips, her ass, and her chest, and she moaned again as the changes begun.

Her nipples grew first, more than doubling in size and stiffening through the soft fabric of her dress. Tentatively touching them induced a gasp of pleasure [so nice~] and sent her rocking backwards. The motion made her giggle, because in that time she'd grown a cute pair of B-cup breasts that jiggled when she rocked. Jiggle makes me giggle. I like giggling. I like jiggling. Ella nodded thoughtfully to herself, feeling very wise. Her boobies grew to C-cups. She jiggled some more. She giggled some more.

A tightness around her hips distracted Ella from her tiddies. They were growing! She groaned as fabric and flesh tightened around them, too euphoric to feel pain. Sliding her hands from her waist to her hips made her squeal happily. She had such a sexy hourglass figure, she knew any girl worth her money would be jealous [and the boys would wanna hold me and squeeze me and fuck me raw]. Thighs thickening dramatically in response to her growth, she slapped her ass in impatience. Why won't it get bigger already!

But get bigger it did, swelling out in response to her touch. She fell forward as sheer pleasure blanketed her mind and weakened her knees. Squishing her boobies against the ground made her feel even nicer, until she was panting and moaning for somebody to help, to hit her again and make her bigger~

A slap landed on her booty, and she groaned in delight as it and her thighs swelled again. More. More! I NEED MORE! She moaned in ecstasy as blow after blow landed, making her swell and grow and grow and swell and feel so gooooood! Her tits inflated to D, then E-cups [good for the boys. I can jiggle so well for them~]. Her hips widened and thighs thickened, until she looked ridiculously large compared to her waist [ridicu... ridic... really, really sexy...] And her ass kept growing, and growing, and growing and growing and growing and growing! Tighter! Around my cock! Cock... I... oh~ Too... too... much! Too much! I'm~ I'm!

OooOOoOoOOooOoOoooOOOOOHHH~

Ella screamed in delight as she came, just cumming and cumming and cumming her tiny little brain out.

"Wisdom -1. IQ -1. Charisma +1. Charisma +1."

She was desperate, humping against the ground as the flow of cum abated from her cock. Everything she had been was flowing out of her messy stupid brain, and everything that she should be was coming in. Boys... Cock... Need fuck... Breed~ I'm such a dumb little cum slut~ She giggled to herself.

"Final adjustment required."

Ella stood up shakily, the bottom of her dress a cum-soaked mess. She squealed with delight as the mental fog settled even tighter and she felt an intense heat in her groin. She could see the tops of nipples trying to break free from her dress, and could feel the air drift over her ass, which had mostly escaped the fabric in her growth. So sexy. Hehe~ Boy can take me~ Don't even need dress off~ Thinking hard... Her ass and hips had pulled up so much fabric that her cock was visible now, deflating and still leaking from her orgasm, but she gasped in pleasure as it began rising up again. And, as she felt something long and hard brush her booty [cock? Boys? Fuck?].

A pressure like hands on her shoulders forced her to her knees, and she whimpered in desire as she felt an unseen cock touch her cheek. At the same time, something began intensely stimulating her own. She reflexively opened her mouth in a moan, but was cut off as she felt the cock shove inside [Feels~ Feels!].

All thought stopped.

Her mind was blank, full of pleasure and desire and happiness. Her cock felt good like it never had before, and the dick in her mouth tasted wonderful~ This was what Ella was made for, what she was meant to be. Feeling good, feeling sexy, feeling a pleasant emptiness that could only be filled with cock. Her haze reached a crescendo. Dimly she was aware of her own cries of ecstasy, muffled by the cock fucking her mouth and mind, as she came harder than she even had before. And as she came, her dick shrunk with each spurt until it went inside her [inside me!]. The cock withdrew from her mouth, filling her with a desperate longing. Emma moaned for her unseen hero, then gasped as she felt him once more. And blinked in surprise as the pretty meadow and her sexy reflection disappeared.

She was kneeling on the floor of an unfamiliar room. Shaking off a little of her confusion [don't need know much anyways...], she gasped as the tell-tale smell of pre-cum filled her nose. There was a man standing in front of her!

Sandy-blonde hair. Body like a surfer hunk! Naked. With a massive, sexy cock, dripping with her saliva and it's own juices. Ella moaned in desire, falling on all fours. Visibly trembling with lust, he tenderly cupped her cheek and slowly moved behind her.

Touching her with his [cock!].

Ever so gently, on the edge of her [...pussy!!!!]

He rammed inside her, and she screamed as an absolute feeling of rightness, of sexiness and pleasure and single-minded happiness rushed through her [MORE! HARDER! COCKKKK~]. Riding his dick she felt herself go into a trance, with nothing, absolutely nothing, disturbing her feelings. Ever. This was right. Ella moaned and surrendered to herself, drifting away on her lover's cock and mindless pleasure.

#hypnosis #tgtf #brain drain #breast expansion #hip expansion #ass expansion #hypnok1nk #bimboification #expansion #ally's kinks

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mystickissies · 10 months ago

Text

GAMER RAGE!~ x fem! reader

*cough cough*

my first smut on this app no laughing at me okie? ꒰⁠⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠꒱⁠˖⁠♡ minors dni pls, contains: piv, S E X!!, your boyfriend being a bully, consensual canoodling.

it's midnight. the soft glow of the computer screen illuminates the room as you hear your boyfriend cursing seemingly for the nth time, he has tough luck winning in the game today.

he leaned back on his chair letting out an exasperated sigh, his headphones dangling, his biceps squeezed in his tight shirt, your boyfriend was such a hottie but you have to admit, seeing a big man desperately try to win a video game was hilarious.

you let out a soft giggle which caught his attention. his head turned to you, uh-oh, his eyes were filled with annoyance and a tad bit of arousal. "what's so funny!" he exclaimed half joking half annoyed.

you didn't get a chance to reply as he jumped on the bed, his ego was bruised as he pulled on your skirt. "i may suck at finding treasure in the game, but i sure can find your g-spot, my love." he winked at his amazing line, which you definitely found cringe.

you chuckled and laid back as your shitty gamer of a boyfriend freed you of your clothes, "m gonna knock the mario coins out of you baby." his fingers found thier way to your soft folds, spreading them apart, he bit his lip in excitement as he saw your clit twitch softly under his thumb, you were already getting wet, but oh no no no you were going to pay for giggling at him earlier.

he stroked his rock hard member as he saw you whine in impatience, he was going to catch you off guard. "you're so pretty y'know, like a sweet-" you squeaked as he suddenly entered, letting out a soft mewl, he grinned in amusement. so adorable.

he was completely filling you up, you wrapped your hands around his neck for support as he thrusted upwards, making you gasp and moan. "a-ah~" that was enough for him to chuckle. "my pretty."

you would've enjoyed the compliment if you weren't getting railed by him, his hips bucked faster and faster as you tried to gain any rhythm of breathing. he was correct, he did find your g-spot - he hit the bundle of nerves with precision.

your squealing couldn't stop, your toes curled up in pleasure, the knot deep in your stomach getting tighter, he was FUCKING you so deliciously. "baby~ cum, cum for me." welp, that was enough for you to break and let out a loud whine as your orgasm hit you like a freight train,

wetting his dick as your lips quivered around him. he exactly wanted this, you losing your mind on his dick, he groaned as cum spilled out of his dick, he aimed it at your face for that extra sense of ownership. "there ya go cutie, now your ego is bruised." he chuckled and kissed your cheek and hugged you close to him.

+ satoru, suguru, toji, mikey, draken, eren, kaiser, rin, sae, scaramouche, heizou, ajax, nagi, itto(?), your fav~

- phew! that was time-consuming lol, hope you enjoyed my dear scroller!

#eren smut #itto smut #blue lock smut #nagi smut #gojo smut #mikey smut #sukuna smut #blade smut #rin smut #sae smut #genshin smut

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artisticdivasworld · 6 months ago

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Staying Healthy as a Long-Haul Truck Driver: Straight Talk

Hitting the open road as a long-haul truck driver isn’t just a job; it’s a lifestyle. And let’s be real, it’s one that comes with its fair share of health challenges. With the long hours and endless miles, staying healthy might seem like a battle. But with a bit of know-how and discipline, you can keep yourself in top shape. We talked about this before here, but feel it bears repeating because…

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itruckdispatch · 5 months ago

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Optimize Your Truck Business with iTruck Dispatch App

Take your truck business to the next level with the iTruck Dispatch App. Our state-of-the-art dispatch software and load tracking app ensure efficient management and seamless operations. Ideal for modern trucking services, the app provides real-time tracking and comprehensive management tools. Discover how iTruck Dispatch can streamline your operations. Visit iTruck Dispatch and transform your trucking business today.

#truck business #dispatch software #trucking services #load tracking app #tracking app #fleet management solution #load management #trucking company #freight tracking

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evaslytherpuff · 11 months ago

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Dark Secrets, Deeper Tongues

Slightly Dark!Ominis x f!OC (Reader's OC)

Characters are 18+!!! MDNI!!!

CW: Light stalking, Manipulation, Corruption Kink, Predator/Prey behavior, Dubious consent, Oral (f!receiving), Fingering, Some blood, Slight monster f***ing (PinV)

Plot: Ominis grows to have strong and possessive feelings for his close friend, OC. She's everything he could want and so much more. There is only one problem, and it's a big one, Ominis has a dark and disturbing secret. This side of him has been clawing its way to the surface, wanting to come out and play with OC, and Ominis is willing to do anything to make that happen.

I'll be using OC for this fic instead of MC. Because MC is a sexy sweetheart and...he's screwing Sebastian! Hehe.😜

Tagging: @myrachondria @ashisgreedy @abeltownshipslittlebitch

Ominis knew it was disapprovingly wrong, his heart pounding rapidly within his chest, as he followed closely behind the unsuspecting young woman. Her scent lingered in the hall and made his mouth water as he inhaled what remained of her sweet perfume. He stifled a groan at the thought of burying his face in her delicate neck, breathing in her sensual essence. Ominis' next step hit the ground a little too harshly, echoing in the long and almost empty hallway. She spun around towards his direction but he was already hidden from her view as he flattened himself against a wall around the corner.

"Hello? Is someone there?" Her lulling voice called out but Ominis chose to remain silent and hidden in the shadows until he heard her footsteps continue to move on towards her destination.

Ominis let out a soft sigh in relief and was glad he wasn't caught by the girl who made him ache for her. OC had become an obsession of his for the past few months and he tried so hard to fight these urges to follow her, be wherever she was, and claim her as his own. He always had a dark side, a part of himself that he desperately tried to hide out of shame. Lately this wicked aspect of himself kept rearing its ugly head and made Ominis feel like he was losing his mind if he didn't have her. He needed her, and he would make sure that he had her tonight, nothing would stop him or get in his way.

Ominis was surprisingly sneaky and had memorized the castle by heart, he knew exactly where she was heading and he decided to cut her off, pretending that their encounter was merely an accident. She slammed right into his chest with a shriek and stumbled backwards but Ominis was fast, poised and accurate, as he caught her in his arms.

"You freighted me! I didn't even hear you coming, Ominis." She giggled softly and huffed in relief as he helped her stand up straight again.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Are you alright?" He asked softly as he clutched his wand in one hand and still held her forearm with the other. He noticed that her heart was pounding and he couldn't take his eyes off her chest as it would rise and fall with every breath. As long as he held his beloved wand it helped him see in a completely different way. He saw auras around objects and structures but when it came to people and animals, he saw veins and arteries. OC's veins were just begging to be tapped by the fangs he fiercely tried to conceal.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I was just heading to the Room Of Requirement. MC said I could borrow his space to study and work on my potions. He's in the undercroft…with Sebastian." OC giggled and Ominis raised a brow at her until he finally caught on to what she had said.

"Oh...oh! You mean?" He smiled and trailed off.

"Yeah, together together. So I probably have a few hours to myself to get some work done." She laughed and Ominis could feel the fluttering in his stomach increase as a naughty idea crossed his mind and a voice whispered deep inside—now is your chance—and Ominis was willing to listen.

"OC? May I join you?" He asked kindly as he did his best to smile warmly at her. He didn't want to appear sinister but lately, that was exactly how he felt. He noticed that her heart began to beat even faster and she gasped softly.

"Of course, Ominis. You know I love your company." She looped her arm through his as they made their way to the Astronomy Tower. Oh, did he love hers as well. Increasingly she was all he could think about and he found it harder and harder to resist her and fight temptation. He finally decided to give up and allow himself some form of happiness. The question was, would she want him as badly as he desired her?

Ominis was in the Room Of Requirement alone with OC. She was sighing heavily at a potions station and Ominis was growing agitated while she grumbled about "ridiculous concoctions." They had been holed up in the spacious room together for what seemed like hours and all she wanted to do was study. This would have been fine if Ominis wasn't feeling so antsy. He wanted her to turn her attention to him, to come sit down on the couch beside him, he needed her closer and was thinking of all the different ways he could make that happen.

"You seem frustrated, OC. Why don't you come sit down and take a break? I think you need it." He said as he patted the seat next to him. Ominis was hoping—praying—that she would take the bait. His heart nearly dropped to his stomach as she did as he asked and moved to sit beside him. Her thigh was brushing his and the intoxicating smell of orange blossoms wafted over him. He had to stop himself from burying his nose in her hair and inhaling more of her sweet scent.

"You're right. I do need a moment to ease my nerves and frustration. This potion is really getting the better of me." She groaned as she leaned against the back of the sofa.

"Well, why don't we play a little game to help you unwind?" Ominis asked mischievously.

"What kind of game, Ominis?" She asked in pure curiosity. She was so amiable and innocent, so naive, and Ominis had the palpable urge to ruin her. He wanted to defile her and ravage her precious body while she screamed his name. His depraved thoughts grew louder and louder, blood already rushing to his groin, and he had to reposition himself on the couch to cover up the fact that he was slightly aroused.

"Truth or dare. Are you up for it?" He asked with a sly grin.

"Alright, I'm in. Ask me first." She said eagerly and sat up straight. His mind wandered to even darker scenarios and Ominis was surprisingly enjoying the idea of taking her innocence. Normally he would be sorely against situations like this but with her, she made him feel more animal than human, he felt like he didn't have control over himself and was running on savage instincts.

"Truth or dare?" He asked as he draped his arm around the back of the couch and leaned towards her. He heard her gulp loudly before answering him.

"Dare." She said then cleared her throat. She was obviously flustered by how close he was to her and it made him smile to himself.

"Okay, I dare you to take a few shots of MC's Firewhiskey." He pointed to the little bar he knew was positioned in the corner of the room.

"Fine, but only if you take a few with me." She said as she walked over to the shelf of alcohol and grabbed the bottle.

"Not really how the game goes but alright. I'll enjoy a drink with you." He chuckled as she sat back down next to him and set two shot glasses on the table in front of them. He reached over her, making sure to brush her fingers with his, as he took the Firewhiskey bottle and poured them their shots.

"I'll be honest. l've never had Firewhiskey. It's usually just Butterbeer at The Three Broomsticks." She said softly.

"You might like it. We will take our shots together, how about that?" He asked as he held up her glass and she gently took it from him.

"Okay, I like that idea." He could hear the smile in her voice as she handed him his shot.

"On the count of three. One. Two. Three." Ominis said, then tipped the small glass to his lips as she did the same. Poor OC started to cough and sputter as the drink poured down her throat. Ominis reached over to softly pat her back and comfort her although he couldn't help but laugh a bit.

"Are you okay, OC?" He asked with a slight chuckle.

"Yeah, I'm alright, it's just strong." She giggled as she gained her composure again and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

After a few shots together, the night was starting to get interesting. OC was more relaxed and clearly a little intoxicated as she had her stocking covered feet placed over Ominis' lap and her words slurred a smidge when she spoke.

"Okay okay. Your turn. Truth or dare?" She asked him.

"Dare. Let's see what you've got." He grinned over at her sitting at the other end of the couch.

"I dare you...to tell me your biggest secret."

She shifted in her seat to move closer to him again. This time she was kneeling beside him as she sat on her heels. He liked this position, he just wished that she was kneeling between his legs instead. He swallowed hard before letting out a drawn sigh.

"Are you absolutely sure that's what you want to know, OC?" His tone went from playful to stern in a heartbeat and he noticed how hers began to race again. It was as if he could hear the pounding of her pulse within his own ears.

"Yes. It's what I want to know, you have to complete the dare or I win." She chuckled as she awaited his answer. Here goes nothing, he thought.

"I'm—I'm part snake." He finally revealed his darkest secret to her and the room grew absolutely quiet. It stayed like this for a long moment before she finally spoke.

"No way, you're joking." She slid forward across the couch to sit closer to him. Her knees were now pressed against his thigh. He had to resist snatching her up or pinning her down on the plush couch.

"No, OC. I'm not. I wouldn't lie to you or tease you about this. I really am part snake." He said with a sigh. He knew it! He already had an idea of how she would react and he was right. She would never accept him for who he truly was. She couldn't ever be with someone, something, like him and it tore his heart to shreds. He clenched his jaw as he fought back tears and balled his hands into fists. Why couldn't someone accept him? That's all he truly wanted, to be loved.

"How is that even possible?" She asked softly.

"Well, when I was just a baby and all throughout my childhood, my parents tried to cure my blindness. What I never told anyone was…they were willing to do anything to supposedly "fix me." They ran experiments on me, injected me with what they thought were miracle cures, put me through hell all because I was born blind and they couldn't accept that. Whatever they did to me, it changed me, altered me somehow. My DNA was never the same again after their experimentation. I became a monster, something I was truly ashamed of. I've been hiding it ever since. Only Sebastian knows the truth and he is the only one. Until now." Ominis said solemnly as he twirled his wand in his hands nervously.

"Ominis. I'm so sorry they did that to you. You are not a monster. Please don't say things like that." She placed a hand on his shoulder and he scoffed.

"OC, you don't understand. It's more than just Parseltongue. That's a trait inherited from Salazar Slytherin. This, what I truly am, is completely different." He bit the inside of his cheek and shook his head.

"Then...show me." She said as her fingers brushed down his arm, making him shiver under her touch.

"That's not part of the game." He said as his voice grew deeper, more husky, while she sat so close beside him. Was she actually curious about this side of him? He started to feel a slight sliver of hope and thought that maybe tonight would end the way he wanted it to. Could she love him for who he truly was?

"Fine. We'll keep playing but I am not letting this subject go," She pointed at him and he watched the arteries move in her little finger. "I pick truth." She said with a little huff and Ominis couldn't help but chuckle.

"Alright then, do you have feelings for anyone and is it someone I know?" He asked with a raised brow.

She hesitated before finally speaking. "Yes. I do have feelings for someone. Strong feelings. You do know him, very well too." She said quietly and surprisingly took another shot of Firewhiskey all on her own.

"Is it—is it Sebastian?" He asked and failed to hide the jealousy in his voice, realizing that he sort of raised it at her.

"Oh, good heavens no! He is like a brother to me. It's not MC either because he's in love with Seb. Which I think is really cute. You said certain things aren't part of the game. I don't have to tell you his name." He thought this slightly cocky side of her was so refreshing and ridiculously alluring. He was fighting everything within telling him to just pounce on her.

"You're right. I did say that." He laughed and shook his head.

"Your turn, truth or dare?" She poked his shoulder and giggled so he poked her back, pushing her against the length of the sofa. Now she was lying down again with her legs draped over his thighs.

"I choose dare, OC." He smiled at her and she hummed as she thought about what dare to give him. He already knew what she would ask and he was hoping for this. She truly was naive and precious and didn't even realize that she was walking into his trap. Again, he knew it was wrong, but he had to have her. There was no denying it anymore.

"I dare you to show me your snake side. I want to see what you look like." She said sternly.

"Fine. If that is what you wish. I'm warning you though, it may be disturbing. You will be the first girl to ever see me like this. Are you sure you're ready for that?" He asked but was already undoing his tie and removing it from his neck.

"Yes I'm sure. I want to see the truth. Please, Ominis." The tone in her voice, the level of her curiosity and how much they drank, had his head spinning. He nodded at her before standing up to remove his shirt. He slowly undid his buttons, making a meal of it, before pulling the remaining fabric from his trousers. He let the material slide down his arms and fall to the floor and she gasped. Why? He didn't even shift yet but she seemed shocked. Then he realized, this is the first time she has seen him without his shirt.

"What's the matter, OC?" He asked as he held back his grin.

"I've never seen you without a shirt. I—I won't lie to you. I'm—I'm a little flustered." She said and he took notice of her racing heart.

"Do you still want to see?" He said as he stepped closer to the couch, now standing over her. He loved that she appeared so small compared to him. It gave him a rush knowing that, if he really wanted to, he could easily overpower her.

"Yes—I still want to see." She said and the shy sweet girl was back again.

He took a deep breath and set his wand down on the table beside the empty bottle of firewhiskey. He allowed this forbidden side to take over, opening himself up to the thought of becoming one with this darkness that he harbored within himself. He felt the shift wash over him, like ripples of rolling waves moving under his skin. It was as if a massive snake was slithering through his body and he sighed in relief once the transformation was complete. He slowly opened his eyes and adjusted to the world around him, trying to get used to the infrared vision he now possessed. He rolled his head on his shoulders and practically moaned when his canines elongated to the fangs that were aching to sink into delicate flesh. He looked down and ran his hands over rough skin that used to be soft and smooth. Then his eyes locked with hers.

She was breathing heavily with her hands clasped together over her chest. He had rendered her speechless.

"This is my secret, OC. The side of me that I have kept hidden for a very long time."

"Your eyes...and parts of your skin. Ominis this is—this is mind blowing. I can't believe this is even possible! Are—are you okay?" She asked with complete sincerity.

"Yeah, I'm okay. It just feels different. It's really good though. It feels like I've been locked in a trunk for ages and I've finally been set free." He chuckled.

"May I-may I touch you?" She asked and her inquisitiveness made him smirk.

"You want to touch me, OC?" He asked a little too flirtatiously but she didn't seem to care or notice. She nodded as she sat up on the couch and hesitated as she brought her hand up towards his body but finally brushed his hip with her fingertips and he smiled down at her. She was slow and tender, just brushing his skin with feather-like touches. Then, she became more sure of herself and started to run her palms up and down his torso then over his arms as she shook her head in bewilderment.

"You're scaly in some spots but then smooth and well, human, in others. Your eyes are slit like a snake but a pretty blue green color. The patches of snake skin match your irises. This is insane!" She laughed a little in shock over what she was seeing and feeling.

"If you think this is insane, you should see my tongue." He smirked down at her and her hands stilled on his stomach.

"Your—your tongue?" She stuttered and slowly pulled her hands away.

He lowered himself to his knees and sat in front of her, his face just inches from hers, as her breathing slowly began to increase. He nodded at her as he bit his bottom lip before opening his mouth to stick his tongue out at her. She gasped loudly and jumped back, flattening herself against the back of the couch.

"Ominis! Why is it— why is it so long?" She asked with a hint of fear in her voice.

"Comes with being part snake I guess." He playfully hissed at her and she let out a small scream while he laughed and held his stomach.

"Don't do that!" She scowled and smacked his arm but joined in on the laughter.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself." He wiped a tear from his eye and moved to sit next to her on the sofa.

"So, what do you think?" He asked seriously. He needed to know. He had to make sure she wasn't terrified of him.

"I think—that you are intimidating but—this just makes you more fascinating to me. You're not like anyone else on this earth and I think that makes you special. I'm sorry your parents did this to you. I really am. I'll keep your secret and won't tell a soul. You can trust me." She said warmly and placed her hand on his thigh. He couldn't take it anymore and had enough teasing, it was now or never for the trap had already been set, she just had to fully walk into it.

"On to the next round. Truth or dare?" He asked with a smirk.

"Truth this time." She responded without taking her hand from his thigh.

"Am I the man you have feelings for, OC?" He asked as his leg tingled under her warm and delicate touch.

It took her a moment to answer and he could tell that she was chewing her lip but she finally turned to him and reached up to caress his cheek.

"Yes, you are." She answered softly and took his breath away. He couldn't believe it, she had feelings...for him. He wanted to kiss her, he wanted to close the gap between them and press his lips to hers, but he held back and decided to continue playing.

"I pick truth, OC." He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and moved closer to her.

"Do you—do you have a crush on someone?" She asked in a hopeful tone.

"Yes, I do. It's more than a crush though. I have strong feelings for this woman. Feelings that are so intense they sometimes pain me. She's sitting right beside me. It's you, OC. I want you."

She hitched in a breath and ran her hand down his thigh and he bit his lip to stop himself from moaning. The room grew quiet for a moment but he broke the silence, hoping the game would end the way he wanted it to.

"Truth or dare?" He asked as they moved closer, her shoulder touching his now and her face just inches from his.

"Dare." She said breathlessly.

"I dare you to let me kiss you wherever I want tonight." His breathing increased to match hers and his heart was beating frantically. Please say yes, he thought when she wouldn't move or answer him.

"Anywhere?" She asked and ran her thumb over his cheekbone, the pad of her little finger was so soft. He could smell the Firewhiskey still lingering on her breath and his other hand moved to grab her hip so he could hold her steady.

"Yes, anywhere. Answer me." He jokingly nipped at the air in front of them and she giggled.

"Okay. You can kiss me, Ominis." She responded and he could see the blush that flooded her cheeks. Her body heat was giving away her emotions and he wanted to kiss every inch of her that burned a deep red.

He didn't need to be told twice. He snatched her up by her waist and she gasped as he hoisted the hem of her skirt up a bit so she could straddle his lap. He wrapped his arms around her, one hand resting on the small of her back and the other on the nape of her neck, as he pulled her in for a kiss.

Her lips were so luscious against his, so silky, while her mouth was warm and inviting. Ominis felt like the room was spinning around him and she was the only thing keeping him steady as his mouth moved over hers. He increased the intensity by entwining his tongue with hers until it began to slip down her throat. She moaned loudly into his mouth, not used to the sudden and deep intrusion, but she did her best to accommodate him and started sucking on the long muscle. He groaned and gripped the back of her head by latching onto her hair. They stayed like this as time passed by but he was craving more of the exquisite beauty writhing on his lap. He retracted his tongue from her mouth which left her panting and trying to catch her breath as she held onto his shoulders.

He didn't want to stop, not now, so he pulled her in and brought his mouth to her delicate neck to kiss the soft and thin skin. Her scent washed over him as he buried his face against her and growled as he sucked on her throat. He was sure he left marks and was proud of this, now everyone would see that she was his, but he needed to claim her completely. In his eyes, kissing her wasn't enough, he desperately needed more of her. He trailed his lips from her jaw down to her collarbone as he moved his hands to grip the front of her top.

"Ominis...please." She softly begged so he ripped open her blouse, exposing her corset and camisole. Too many layers, he thought. He needed more of her, more skin to grab and caress, more of her body to explore. If he could burn away her clothes without hurting her, he would.

"I want—I want to keep playing with you." She said between heavy breaths. He smiled wickedly at her as he pulled her top down her slender arms and tossed it to the floor.

"Then play, Darling." He whispered against her chest before gripping the nape of her neck to tilt her head back and lick along the front of her throat up to her chin. She shivered over him and it gave him such a rush as he licked along her neck once more.

"Truth or dare." She said with a whimper when he thrust his hips up to feel the heat radiating from between her legs. Even through her clothes, he could easily tell she was a wet mess. Ominis knew that her knickers had to be ruined and he adored that he had such a palpable effect on her.

"Truth, OC." He groaned softly as she began to gently grind down on his concealed arousal and his head fell back against the couch.

"Do you—do you have—dirty fantasies about me?" She asked sensually then gasped as he grabbed her hips and brought his clothed cock up to meet her sex.

"All the fucking time." His chest heaved up and down as they rocked against each other. "Some-are more innocent than others. Tonight they are far from pure. I want you to come undone. I need you to beg for more, to scream my name, while I pound into your delicate little cunt." He growled and pulled her in to lick and suck on her neck again. "I want to sink my fangs into your flesh as you cry out in ecstasy." He snarled against her damp skin.

Her moans grew louder and she tossed her head back to allow him more access to her vulnerable throat. "That's what—you want to do to me?" The pitch of her voice was growing higher with every thrust. She was losing it and Ominis was reveling in how desirous she was becoming for him.

"That's just the beginning. I want to ravage you! Turn you into this needy, quivering, mess that is just begging for her holes to be fucked by me and only me. I want to make you mine and mine alone. If any other man would try to have you, he will have to go through me first and trust me, OC. I can be pretty dangerous if need be. For you, I would do anything." He wrapped his arms around her waist and she buried her face in his neck to hide her expression.

"Omi, that's so—so filthy. I've never seen this side of you. Even out of your snakelike form." She stilled her hips and he held her tightly to his body.

"Never had the chance to but now…it's all I can think about. Keep going. Truth or dare, OC?" He said as he tried to steady his racing heart.

"I choose...dare." She said as her breaths fanned against his skin.

"I dare you to hide anywhere in MC's rooms, and if I can find you in under five minutes, I get to have my way with you however I want. I can do anything I please. All night." He wasn't playing games anymore, it was all or nothing, and he was hoping she would give in.

"That's asking a lot, Ominis. I'm—I'm not sure." She hesitated as she rested her head on his chest, her breathing was back to normal but he could still feel the heat between her lovely legs.

"You can say no, but then I will win this game. If you say yes and I don't find you, you win. You've been so naughty tonight. Why stop now?" He whispered in her ear before kissing the top of her head as his hand slipped under her skirt to rub her thigh through her underwear. She shivered against him and whimpered as she tried to hide her face.

"Whatever happens in this room between the two of us will remain between you and I. You can trust me, OC. He tried his best to soothe and convince her that they both needed this night.

"O—okay. I'll hide. Then you can try to find me." She deftly kissed his neck and he smiled up at the ceiling feeling like he had already won.

"You have time to hide. I'll give you five minutes. Then five to try and find you." He said as she moved off his lap to stand up and start looking for the perfect spot.

The poor girl didn't realize that he now had the advantage in this form. It would be so easy to pick up on her heat signature and find her no matter where she chose to hide. Ominis gave OC her time, relaxing on the sofa and envisioning what he will do to her when he finds her. His mind felt so dark right now but he was too far gone to care and enjoyed bathing in the shadows of his twisted desires. He longed for her, he wanted her tremendously, and tonight all his dreams were coming true.

Five minutes passed by quickly and Ominis began his hunt for his precious lover. He tracked her down by scent and sound, listening for the telltale signs of her beating heart. He held his wand in his hand and it almost felt like cheating.

Not only did he have infrared vision when he allowed this side of himself to come out and play but he could still see veins and arteries while he clutched his wand. It was like a best friend to him, a beloved sibling if you will, that would guide his way throughout life. With his wand, and in his snakelike embodiment, he was a force to be reckoned with and could easily find his demur prey.

He entered one of MC's potion rooms and grinned to himself. She was a clever young woman but not clever enough. She used the scents and sounds of the energetic room to cover her presence but Ominis was far more cunning than she was.

"I can't wait to get my hands on you. You know, I have this insatiable desire to sink my fangs into your lovely flesh, OC but I have to stop myself. My parents experimented on me, you know this, what you didn't know is that my bite is venomous and connected to my magic. I bit Sebastian once, by accident of course, and do you know what happened?" He heard a faint gasp come from one of the potion cabinets and picked up on her body heat. A wicked smile spread across his face as he crept closer to her hiding place.

"He grew perfectly still, collapsed to the floor and didn't move, but he could still feel everything. I sort of paralyzed him, OC and he couldn't fight back but he could feel all the pain I dealt him. We were fighting and I don't even remember why but I shifted and attacked him. It's what I wanted my magic and venom to do to him. To leave him powerless while we fought. It didn't last long and he was back to normal without any problems although he sported quite a few bruises and a black eye. To this day, he thinks I should use this gift. Do you think I should, OC? Should I bite you and leave you motionless while I enjoy all your beautiful body has to offer? Let you feel everything I do to you but you can't fight back?" He teased as he stood in front of the wooden doors that kept her from him.

"Let's find out!" He ripped the cabinet open and snatched her up while she screamed and flailed. Ominis flung her over his shoulder with all his newfound strength and carried her to a nearby room. It shifted and rearranged itself to an elaborate bedroom which was exactly what he needed while she kicked and struggled against him.

"Wait! Slow down, Ominis!" She shouted as he tossed her onto the four post bed and she tried to scramble away from him. He swiftly pounced on her and tore at the clasps of her skirt before pulling it off of her body. This left her in her drawers, stockings and garter, corset, and camisole. This was still too much. He needed her bare, exposed, completely vulnerable for what he had planned for her.

"That wasn't part of the game, Love. I won fair and square and now I want my prize! You agreed to anything I want and I want this. I want us!" He growled as he ripped open her corset, the metal clasps flying across the room and clattered to the floor. He pressed his body against hers, pinning her to the soft mattress, as he brought his lips down to take hers.

He devoured her muffled protests as his tongue delved into her mouth once more. He felt like he was running on pure adrenaline, high on how powerful he was in his shifted form. His hands snaked over her body until he met the stiff peaks of her breasts. He groaned against her lips as he pinched and toyed with her nipples. She shoved at his shoulders so he pulled back from the kiss and rose to his knees on the bed as he looked down at her. Her heat signature seemed to be on fire and he loved that she was trying her best to cover it up. He was affecting her as much as she was affecting him and he would make her see that they were meant to be together.

"Take off the rest of your clothes but leave the stockings." He hissed as she hesitated.

"Ominis, you're kind of scaring me right now! Please. Give me a moment to wrap my head around this." She sat up and moved further away from him.

"OC, at this very moment, I feel like I'm losing control but please. Please trust me." He wrapped his fingers around her calf and rubbed the smooth material of her stockings a little and felt her relax under his tender touch.

She shifted to remove her cami and let it fall to the floor then she lifted her hips slightly to pull on the waistband of her underwear and tugged them off as well.

Ominis wanted to shout in victory knowing that she was naked for him now. His stiff cock twitched within his pants over the thought of her bare body. She brought her knees up to her chest as he stood up to remove his trousers and underwear as well, tossing them to the other side of the room. After taking off his socks, he climbed back onto the bed with the woman he fantasized about daily. He sat in front of her and lifted her chin to look at him directly.

"You don't need to be shy, OC. Let me take care of you tonight. I want this to be a night to remember." He said softly as he ran his thumb along her bottom lip. She nodded against his fingers and that was all the approval he needed.

"Lie down, spread your legs for me." He whispered as he released her face. She did as she was told and rested her head against the plush pillows. Ominis moved to lay over her, feeling her flushed heat radiating from her lovely figure. Their bodies were barely touching but he could already feel her trembling beneath him. Was she scared? Excited and nervous about what he would do next? He didn't know. His only thought was to take her, make her his forever, show her how much he loves her by pleasing her magnificent body.

Ominis leaned in, balancing himself up on his elbows, bringing his lips to her jaw. A sensual hiss escaped his lips as he trailed them down to her neck...but it wasn't English. He spoke Parseltongue and she gasped as he felt her shiver beneath his powerful frame. Her breathing increased again and he could actually hear her heartbeat pick up. He smirked against her skin and decided to push her even further. He spoke again, this time his tongue flicking out to tickle her neck. She arched up a little which made him smile even more.

"Do you like when I speak Parseltongue, Darling?" He asked in the dark language again.

"I—I don't know what you're saying but—keep going." She whispered and her hands came up to caress his chest. They were so hot against his skin and he sighed happily as she explored his body. Her palms were all over him yet kept stopping when she got too close to his pelvis as if she was afraid to touch him below the waist.

"The things I want to do to you. I need to taste you, OC. I need my tongue buried deep inside you." He enjoyed teasing her with the hisses and sighs that spilled from his lips as he grinned down at her.

"You're so intimidating like this. My heart is pounding right now." She whimpered and turned her face away from him.

"No, don't look away. Trust me, Love. Tonight you're mine and I'm going to enjoy ravaging this beautiful body of yours." He said, this time with more venom in the forbidden language, as he gently cupped her face and made her look up at him again.

Ominis brushed her lips with his before he started to kiss down her jaw and stopped at her tantalizing throat. He sucked and lapped at the soft skin for a moment before moving down to her chest. He stuck his tongue out fully and wrapped the tip around one of her nipples. He used one hand to pinch the other tip between his thumb and forefinger. His other hand was placed on her shoulder to hold her down as he laid between her soft legs. His cock twitched against the sheets as she arched her back against his mouth and busy fingers. He moved to give the other breast the same attention and she moaned softly while she writhed against him.

"Ominis..." She whimpered as she moved her hands to tangle them in his hair and hold his head to her chest while he showered her breasts with loving attention. He could stay there forever if she allowed him and he growled as he nipped at her stiff peaks. She yelped when his teeth grazed her skin and he chuckled against her stomach as he worked his way down to kiss her hips.

"So sensitive. I love the way your body trembles under my fingertips and my mouth." He licked along her hip then blew on the wet trail he left behind. He continued from hip to hip as she moaned loudly and passionately said his name. She was panting and wiggling her pelvis so he grabbed her hips and gripped her body tightly, holding her in place so he could leave hickies below her hip bones. She cried out and struggled against his hold but he was too strong and determined to leave all the marks he could on her beautiful body. Her roommates would know, the school would know, that she was his and only his and he was the one to please her.

"Ominis I—I've never. I've never been—with anyone." She said softly as she covered her face with her hands.

"Wait, you're a—you're a virgin?" He asked as he shifted a little lower to rest his head on the inside of her thigh.

"Yes is—is that bad?" He could hear the worry laced into her voice but he smiled widely against her sensitive skin.

"No, that's perfect. You're perfect, OC. I'll make tonight special for you, I promise." He kissed her thigh and gently ran his hand down her leg to place it over his shoulder. He turned his head to kiss and nip at her other thigh and place that leg over his shoulder as well. Now his head was between her supple limbs and the scent of her arousal washed over him as he placed kisses where her thighs met her damp sex. He sighed against her and she quivered below him. He wrapped his arms around her legs and placed his palms on the front of her thighs to keep a strong hold on her.

"Omi, please..." She was begging, but for what he didn't know, all he could comprehend at the moment was how badly he needed to taste her, to savor her juices on his tongue. It felt like he was in a dream and if he didn't continue then he would wake up and she wouldn't be here in his arms. Maybe it was all the shots they took but everything just felt so surreal to him as she whispered his name.

"OC, I need more. I need more of you. Spread your legs a little wider, Darling." She did as she was told and her heat signature was absolutely flaring. His eyes fell on her clit and he licked his lips, salivating at the thought of pleasing her dripping cunt with his mouth.

"Ominis. Be gentle." She reached down to run her fingers through his hair and he smiled at her.

He would try but he felt more and more animalistic by the second. He nodded up at her then brought his mouth down to kiss her sex. She cried out at the first contact and arched her back, making him more eager to satisfy her.

"Relax, Sweetheart. I've got you." He brushed her thigh with his fingertips to soothe her. She pet his head once again before he kissed her little bundle of nerves, making her moan loudly. He took his time with his actions as he licked and sucked on her delicate folds. He was ecstatic feeling her writhe and jerk against his seeking tongue and lips. She was crying out his name as she gripped fistfulls of his disheveled hair so Ominis decided to step things up a notch. He lapped and kissed her dripping entrance before breaching her core with his tongue.

"Oh! Omi! Don't stop!" Her heels were digging into his back as he fucked her with his long tongue, making sure to hit her sweet spot with every lick and thrust, OC was trying to close her thighs around his head but he held her tightly in place. His growls and groans echoed throughout the room as his hand snaked down her leg to reach her aching heat. His cock pulsed against the bedsheets, dripping onto the soft material, as he inserted one of his fingers.

"Ominis! Oh fuck! This feels—it feels so good! She cried and thrust her hips against his face. One hand held her firmly against the bed while the other worked his finger in and out of her core paired with his tongue. Her taste was exquisite and he needed to push her closer and closer to her building orgasm. He was truly enjoying watching her come undone, the shy girl who usually kept to herself, now became a wanton little mess in the palm of his hand. The sheets were now soaked from him devouring her sweet and dripping cunt. He was laying in a small puddle of his own due to grinding his cock against the mattress.

Her moans and pants became more and more frantic and Ominis knew she was close, he could feel it against his tongue and pulsing finger so he decided to add another one and spread her open so he could bury his tongue further inside her.

She wailed as the long muscle bottomed out in her throbbing core. His nose was pressed against her clit and he thrust his fingers even harder and faster in her soaked slit.

"Ominis! I'm—I'm close!" She cried and both of her hands flew to press down on his head. Yes!Come for me, come on my tongue, let me taste your pleasure! He thought as the tip of his tongue pressed strongly against her sweet spot.

Her core swiftly clamped down around his fingers and tongue as her orgasm tore through her trembling body. Ominis moaned when the taste of her climax washed over his tongue and his eyes slid shut in pure bliss. He slowly withdrew his fingers followed by his tongue only when her body ceased quivering. He rested his head on her thigh and they both shared a moment to catch their breath. Ominis then took notice of her body heat starting to cool down and saw that as a signal to keep going. He slowly maneuvered himself to crawl over her, prowling like a hungry beast.

"Ominis...your eyes. They're—they're almost glowing." She whispered as he wiped her slick from his mouth and chin. He smirked down at her when they were lying face to face, his body hovering above her's.

"This is what you do to me. You drive me insane, you make me crave you, OC." He placed his lips on her neck and gently tugged at her pulse with his lips. She wrapped her arms around him as he pressed his body down on top of her delicate figure. She gasped when the head of his cock gently brushed against her folds. He hissed in a breath at the warm contact and pressed his forehead against her's.

"You're ready. I know you are. I made sure that you are properly prepared for me. You can take it, My Love." He said as he placed a single kiss on her head then moved to slant his mouth over her plump and inviting lips. He wedged his hips between her legs and she groaned into his mouth as the tip of his erection breached her entrance.

"That's it, Sweetheart. Relax and let me in." He nuzzled her neck and sank deeper inside her wet core. Her nails dug into his back as she whimpered and arched beneath his flushed frame. He pressed his weight on her and caged her in place with his arms as his lips moved to tickle her sensitive throat. Ominis plunged further and further in OC's tight channel.

"Omi, it—it hurts." She shivered as he deftly kissed her temple.

"It will—It will at first, Darling. Breathe and relax with me. You're so nervous." He whispered against her cheek before placing delicate kisses all along her face then moving to her jaw and neck once again.

"I can make you feel good. My fangs ache, OC. Let me sink them into this supple flesh. Please." He let his words ghost over her damp skin and she stiffened.

"Ominis...no. I'm—I'm not ready for that. Please." She softly begged but his mind was already in a haze at the thought of biting her delectable skin.

"I want you to feel pleasure. It won't hurt. It won't! I need you to feel good. Please, OC. Let me bite you. My fangs are throbbing. The pressure is too much. Please!" He pleaded against her throat and she swallowed hard.

"Omi. I—I don't know. Your bite will paralyze me." He felt a tear fall down her temple and splash on his face.

"No. No! You'll feel what my magic wants you to feel. I want you to need me, OC. I'm begging." His fangs brushed her neck and she yelped and jumped to the best of her ability under his weight.

"Ominis. I—I don't know. I don't..." Her words were cut off by her groan as his fangs sank into her skin. He could literally see his venom working its way through her veins as she grew limp beneath him. Her head lolled to the side as he bit down harder on her tender tissue. He snarled against her as the metallic tang of her blood hit his tongue.

"Ominis!" She cried as he bottomed out inside her sweet sex. He removed his fangs from her beautiful body with a deep sigh as she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him even deeper into her throbbing core.

"Oh fuck, OC!" He shouted as she thrust her hips up to meet his, losing all inhibitions.

"Make love to me, Ominis. It—it doesn't hurt anymore." She said as she placed a kiss on both of his cheeks. He couldn't believe how quickly his venom was working but he wasn't going to let this moment slip away.

"I'll give you whatever you want. I'm yours." He whimpered as he pulled out as far as he could before plunging back into her heat. She tossed her head back and mewled softly in his ear. They held each other so tightly as he picked up his pace and began to thrust harder and faster making her moan his name.

"Ominis! You feel so amazing." She purred as she moved to cup his face in her soft hands. He couldn't help but shed a tear over the sheer amount of love they were sharing with one another. He knew his venom was a part of it but he couldn't help but feel overjoyed over the intimacy they were creating. Her head thrashed against the pillows as he began to pound deep inside her precious cunt, their breathing becoming in sync with each other.

"More, I'm close, Ominis!" She moaned loudly as her legs wrapped around him tightly and her nails dug deep into his shoulders. He was eager to give her exactly what she wanted as his hips drove into her again and again. Their pants filled the room as he continued to thoroughly love her dripping core and his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

With one harsh thrust she screamed his name in pleasure as she gripped down on his throbbing cock in heavy waves. He wasn't done with her just yet and continued to piston his pelvis harder and harder within her cunt. She was an absolute wreck as she mumbled and clutched him close to her body. He could feel the warmth in his stomach continue to grow and spread further down his body. The tension in his groin was building with every thrust of his length inside her aching sex.

He gave one final thrust as he spilled his seed deep inside her, claiming her for his own. His holler echoed throughout the room as the tendons in his neck grew taut from the strain of his orgasm. He gasped harshly as his body collapsed to lay over hers. She held him close to her as she cradled his head against her chest. He listened to her rapid heartbeat pounding against her rib cage as she ran her fingers through his damp hair.

"You were right, your bite didn't hurt, it actually made me feel...safe." She said softly then kissed the top of his head.

"I didn't want you to feel pain. I wanted you to feel comfortable with me. I couldn't help it. I'm sorry I bit you. The ache was just too much. Are you mad at me now?" He asked as he pulled out and groaned at the loss of her wonderful warmth.

"No, I don't want you to feel pain either. If your fangs are hurting you, my neck is here for the taking, you should be able to feel safe and comfortable as well, Ominis. Let me be that for you, let me be the one you can truly be yourself with. I—| love you, Ominis Gaunt. I always have." They shifted so she could curl up next to him and wrap her legs and arms around his body. He pulled her in as close as he possibly could and tilted her face up to look at him.

"I love you too, OC. You're mine now, do you understand?" He asked as he gently kissed her lips.

"I don't want to be with anyone else but you. You have my heart." She kissed him passionately before yawning and nestling her head in the crook of his neck.

Ominis felt his eyes getting heavy as he smiled from ear to ear. Tonight was the perfect night and he was so thankful to call OC his. He didn't have to hold back or hide who he truly was with her anymore and it felt magnificent. The woman he loved more than anything in the world, the one he coveted above all others, was sleeping soundly within his arms and he couldn't be happier.

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