#I’m planning more spank! style cords

[pastel-pinku]

Spank! For today

[honeymoonjin]

Cum! BTS part two - ot7 x reader smut

Please read part one here first.

Warnings for sexually explicit content: discussion of consent, voyeurism/exhibitionism, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, hitachi use, light spanking, dirty/degrading talk, cock ring, dry humping, attempted blowjob, handjob, ruined orgasm (m), orgasm denial (m), nipple clamps, BDSM, using a condom creatively, fingering, oral (f), doggy style, anal play (f), standing sex, sloppy seconds, technically an orgy/train, I think that’s it (phew!).  Sumary: an episode of Run! BTS in which the seven members compete to see who can make you cum first. This second part is 8.5k, part one was around 4.5k.

“We need to discuss new ground rules,” the producer says the moment you sit.

Almost instinctively, your legs tighten together uncomfortably. Yoongi, to your left, notices this and starts gnawing on his lip guiltily. The eight of you had been gathered around after the intense filming session the day before. You still felt wobbly and a little sore, though perfectly content. You knew the staff were concerned that it had gone too far, however, since they refused to even set up cameras before this conversation.

“Y/n, you were made aware of the safe word before filming. Why didn’t you use it?”

You shrug. “I was fine, honestly. I don’t think I realized just how much it would be until after you guys had already cut. But, if we’re changing this before we go again, could I please request something?”

“Of course,” Namjoon enthuses from your other side. “Anything that would make you more comfortable.” He looks tired. You had heard some of the make-up stylists for the boys whispering about how he had stayed up all night stationed outside your room in case you called out. You give him your brightest reassuring smile.

“60 seconds between orgasms is way too short if I’m going to be going for that long. I was thinking too, I don’t know if the fastest orgasm even suits the theme. Shouldn’t it be the most powerful orgasm, or most satisfying? I mean, it’s up to you guys, of course, but-”

“No, no,” Namjoon quickly interrupts, “what’s important is your wellbeing. How much time do you want between members?”

You’re a little taken aback by how forthright he’s being, but a glance at the producer’s small nod confirms it. “Uh, maybe five minutes? Even three would be okay, I know this is meant to be a competition amongst you guys.”

A soft voice from the far end of the meeting table pipes up. “Can I just say something? I know I haven’t had my turn yet, but I don’t think I want to take part unless I’m certain that Y/n is okay.” You crane your neck down to watch Taehyung biting his nails. “Yesterday was really scary.”

“Guys, I was fine,” you insist, “I appreciate your concern, but let’s just take this as a learning curve and move on. We still have five more people to get through.” A thought strikes you. “Wait, we don’t have to start from the beginning again, do we?”

“No,” the producer assures you with a wry grin, chuckling softly as you sigh in relief.

Yoongi, apparently over his guilt already, scowls at the news. “Dammit, I fisted her for nothing, it’s not even going to make a difference anymore.”

“Not for nothing, hyung!” Jungkook exclaims. “That was the best thing I’ve seen in years!”

You laugh. Although some of the members around him scold Jungkook for the comment, you’re grateful for his attempt at easing some of the tension. “I’m ready to get back into it, if everyone else is?”

“Don’t forget, Y/n,” Jungkook leans over and adds, “safe word is seagull.”

“No, it’s not,” the producer sighs, “Y/n’s safe word is red.”

Jungkook pouts innocently as he shakes his head. “I was talking about my safe word, producer-nim.”

--

Back on set, you fiddle absentmindedly with the tiny ribbon bow on the front of your panties as various crew members flutter and dart around the place, setting up lighting and audio equipment while a ticklish brush is swept over your face by an disinterested stylist.

You recoil when the soft hairs breach a little too close to your eye and accidentally bump into a solid object, hearing a low ‘woah’ behind you.

“Easy,” Hoseok soothes, hands pressing on your shoulders momentarily to steady you. “You’re meant to be weak in the knees after we’re done with you.”

“Hey, there,” you breathe out, taken aback by the brightness in his eyes and the way the light caught the golden sheen of his skin. Yesterday your interaction was somewhat brief, and you had had other things on your mind. Now, doing nothing but waiting around for shooting to begin, you were feeling a little unmoored under the full bore of his attention.

He huffs out a little air from his nose and gives you a soft smirk. “You weren’t wearing my pants this morning,” he comments.

Your cheeks flush at the intimacy of the comment. “I’m not sleeping in $2,000 Balenciaga sweats.”

“If you looked them up, you’d see they’re actually closer to three thousand.”

“Exactly,” you insist, “there’s no way I’m going to get those all wrinkly by sleeping in them.”

He lets his eyes slide over your form languidly. “You looked good in them,” he muses, “it’s a shame we don’t get to dress you up for this episode.”

You scoff, crossing your arms reflexively at his heated gaze. “Okay, Mister Nipple Clamps, what would you have dressed me up in? Leather?”

Hoseok laughs boisterously and claps his hand on your shoulder. “Hey, you’re the one that likes a little pain in the bedroom.”

“I never said that,” you defend in a slightly higher tone, giving him a cold glare.

“Oh, come on, Y/n, Yoongi’s hands aren’t that small, surely? Don’t worry,” he assures you lowly, “I’ll make you feel good.”

You swallow. The motion doesn’t go unnoticed by Hoseok. “You don’t have to bother seducing me, Hoseok, I’m apparently already going to have sex with you.”

He shrugs ambivalently. “Think of it like an extra part of my turn. The anticipation for what I’m going to do to you.”

“So, I should be starting your timer now, hm?” you fire back.

His tongue slips out to wet his lips as he smiles devilishly. “Every time you talk back to me, little lady, you’re just making it worse for yourself when I get my hands on you.”

“There are three others going after you, you know,” you mention conversationally, looking past him to watch the others join you, Namjoon hovering awkwardly behind Hoseok as he stands where Namjoon should be. “Don’t assume you’re going to have a lasting impression.”

He shakes his head disbelievingly, ready to retort, but Namjoon gently pushes him aside to second place. Down the line, as the pre-ordained order went, was Namjoon, Hoseok, Taehyung, Jin, and Jungkook. To your right were the contestants who had already finished; a very bored-looking Yoongi and Jimin.

Suddenly, as the cameras finally start rolling, Namjoon glances back at the table behind him and gasps. “Oh, fuck! I forgot I was stuck with the cock ring. Shit.”

You snigger a little, but mask it with a cough. You certainly don’t envy him. He picks it up and sighs, reluctantly placing a hand over the front of his pants to begin palming himself. You stare at him as he does this.

“What?” he cries out defensively. “It’s hard to get in the mood out of nowhere!”

“See!” You turn your head to the front of the line to see Jimin holding his arm out triumphantly. “It’s not my fault I took so long, it’s just that it’s hard to go first! Producer-nim, you should let us each take a minute off of our times to account for it. It’s not fair!”

A overdramatic groan of disapproval catches your attention. At the other end, Jin shakes the hair out of his face and twitches his nose in frustration. “You’re just making excuses! If I was next, she would’ve cum already!”

Jimin pouts and crosses his arms. “Producer-nim,” he pleads in a whine.

You bite down on the inside of your lip to try and prevent yourself from sniggering at their antics. The producer rolls his eyes fondly at Jimin, then turns to face the end of the line. “Jin, we’ll give you the choice. Either Jimin and Namjoon get to take thirty seconds off of their time-”

“I said a minute! Producer-nim, you’re too mean-”

“-Or, you have to take Namjoon’s place and go next without any time advantage.”

Both Jimin and Namjoon sigh out a huff of air when Jin stomps proudly forward and hip-shoves Namjoon down the line; the former out of frustration and Namjoon out of pure relief. You can see his eyes flickering aimlessly around the room, focusing on nothing as he ran some mental marathon to work out a game plan.

“Okay, is that all?” the producer drones tiredly. “Anyone else want to make the game even more confusing than it already is?” After a beat of silence, he nods. “Okay, then, Jin can start when he’s ready.”

You turn to the eldest and cock your chin towards the bed in question, moving over there when he gives you a nod of confirmation. As you settle yourself on the slightly-too-firm mattress, one of the staff members helps him plug it in to an extension cord running along the floor, taped down to avoid the tripping hazard. Once he’s finally done, he returns to the side of the bed, wielding the massager toy like a blunt weapon, and you eye him warily.

He waves his other hand at you, and you scoot up the bed, until your head rests quite comfortably on the pillows.

“You can start when you’re ready, Jin,” the producer reminds him, and you glance over to see the six other guys making themselves comfortable on the floor at the edge of the room. Clearly they weren’t so convinced that he’d be done anytime soon. Namjoon didn’t even look like he was aware what was going on at all as he absentmindedly swung the cock ring on his pointer finger and stared intensely at it as if it contained the secrets of the universe.

You suck in a breath and jerk back as a sudden swat comes down on your left breast, stinging slightly as the thin lace does nothing to absorb the blow. “Hey!”

Jin stares down at you with a frown, swinging a leg over your torso and straddling you on the bed. “It’s my turn, not his. Look at me.”

You stare up at him with wide eyes as he places the vibrator down beside you and reaches around to unhook your bra, slipping it off and throwing it rather violently in the direction of the others. Jungkook recoils and holds his arms up in self-defence as he takes a mouthful of lace, spitting it out and chucking it onto the ground with an angry blush, staring at it like he’s scared it’s alive. Another swat rains down, this time on your right, and with the cool air tightening your nipples, it smarts even more. “Ow! Jin!”

The oldest member frowns in annoyance, raising his hips up off you to slide your panties down. “What did I say?” he asks rhetorically. Before continuing, he looks up and around the room. “Where’s the camera? Ladies, this one’s for you.” He blows a kiss with a broad sweep of his arm before bending back down to you. You return his pout with one of your own, but it drops when he shuffles down your body to pull the panties off of your legs, and takes a nipple into his mouth.

The sudden stimulation of his hot mouth on you rips a weak whimper from your throat, and you feel the triumphant chuckle vibrate slightly against you.

Jin laves his tongue and mouth over your breast sloppily, practically drooling over you as he sucks a nipple into his mouth, letting the sensitive skin graze against his teeth. You sigh out his name, and he finishes removing your underwear, chucking the thin sliver of fabric in the same direction.

“Come on,” you hear Jungkook scoff, but you don’t dare look.

“Jin,” you pant again as he swaps breasts, the wetness cooling against the one he left behind, but as his tongue swirls around the taut bud, a hand comes up to flick at your other nipple and pinch it tightly, rolling it between a finger and a thumb.

Your eyes have fallen shut in bliss, and you’re so overtaken by sensation on your top half, that you don’t even notice something solid slipping between your legs and pushing against you until it buzzes to life, the powerful steady vibration lighting up your previously-neglected clit. “Ah! Oh, right there, yes.” Your hips automatically begin to rock against the massager in tight circles, wanting more, and you wind a hand in the thick silk of his hair, tugging him up so that his face rested over yours.

You cracked your eyes open just enough to see his salaciously smug smile before he dipped down and took your mouth with his. You immediately sigh out into the kiss, lifting one leg up not only to open yourself out for him, but to hook your ankle around his lower back and ass, pulling him closer like you would if he was actually fucking you.

His much larger body pins yours down with ease, leaving one hand free to clasp your chin, tipping your head back further and parting your jaw so he can plunge his tongue into your mouth. You whine into his mouth as he tilts the wrist holding the vibrator, slipping it up through your folds so that it’s pressed snugly against your clit, and rocking it in little motions that drive you crazy.

You’ve stopped contributing to the kiss, brows knit and mouth wide open as the pleasure wells up inside you, but that doesn’t stop him from pillaging your mouth as he desires. Every nip and tug at the skin of your lips has a shot of electricity running through you, and every slow swipe of his tongue has you wishing he was burying that mouth between your legs instead.

“Are you close?” he mumbles against your lips, the sound almost completely lost as he refuses to let up for even a second.

“Uh-huh,” you pant dumbly, becoming more restless underneath him as you chase your high.

He makes a noise of acknowledgement, and sits up from you. You whimper at the loss of his mouth on you, but then you hear him fiddling around with something. Before you even get the chance to open your eyes to see what he’s doing, the intensity of the hum between your legs skyrockets, and you tense up, arching your back and latching desperately onto his forearm as you’re pitched suddenly over the edge.

You’re unaware of your surroundings, letting the sensation completely overwhelm you like being underwater. Jin continues to rock the massager toy against you as you cum, finally letting up when your open mouth turns into a frown and you begin pushing his arm away, twitching under the overstimulation the high-speed vibrations were giving you.

“Time?” Jin asks breathlessly, and you laugh weakly when he’s given the best time of the group, a mere 12 seconds faster than Yoongi. Lucky you, to have gotten the experts early on. Fuck. At least you hoped they were the fastest ones.

You hum blissfully when you feel a warm palm cup your cheek, tipping your head up slightly. Your eyes flutter open to half-mast, and through the narrow slit you see a somewhat ruffled Jin with sex-mussed hair crouching at the edge of the bed with a small paper cup filled with water. “Hmm, so romantic,” you muse sleepily. Just like getting out of a wave pool and still feeling that rocking, your legs are suffering ghost vibrations, and you’re grateful that Jin has gone to get the refreshments for you. A new addition to the production set was a table with a water jug, some electrolyte drinks with the brand names sharpied out, and some snacks. You had a feeling, as you let Jin gently tip the cup to your lips, that you’d definitely be needing it.

Once you’re done, you feel some of the energy returning to you, and some clarity to. You push up off the mattress and sit up slowly, wiggling your toes experimentally. Jin gives your shoulder one last squeeze before he goes over to brag to his competitors loudly.

You glance over and see Jimin sitting in the corner with a glum disposition. You catch his eye and wave him over, noting that you still have a couple minutes left before it’s Namjoon’s turn. Speaking of which, the man looks devastated, but you’ll deal with him soon enough.

“Hey, Y/n,” Jimin mumbles, sitting heavily on the bed with a sigh. He hands you the wad of fabric he has balled up in his hand, and you realize with a warm flutter in your chest that he’s gone and collected your bra and panties. Gratefully, you slip it on, watching Jimin zone off gloomily. “Choosing the blindfold was kinda a dumb decision, huh?”

You fight the urge to laugh, reaching out to ruffle his hair fondly instead. “Oh, Jiminie, you did fine with what you had.”

He’s not convinced. “That’s just code for, ‘yeah, Jimin, you’re an idiot, why wouldn’t you choose an actual sex toy?’ You don’t have to try and protect my feelings.”

You shrug, adjusting your bra straps, even though you’re sure you’ll have to get naked again in, oh, just under thirty seconds. “Don’t worry about it, Jimin. If you think the millions of fans watching will give a shit about the actual competition, you’re delusional. Nobody ever bothers to even read the rules anyway.”

He looks up at you from under his eyelashes. “You think?”

“Of course,” you insist. “In fact, blindfold was probably a great choice. I’m sure the more of my face is covered, the better. They’ll be wishing it was them.”

He smiles softly, hopping off the bed hastily as Namjoon swaps places with him.

“Hiya, Joon.”

He looks stricken. “I wish someone bad had gone before me, now. I know I’m going to lose. I’m sorry.”

Your gaze is caught by the producer over his shoulder giving you the go-ahead. “Just do your best, Namjoon,” you say, leaning back down again, “you’ll be fine.”

Without making eye-contact, he shoves a hand down the front of his pants with red cheeks, palming himself so that he’s hard enough to get the cock ring on. “God, this sucks,” he complains, “why did I have to have the worst luck on this episode out of all of them? I’m gonna lose my good reputation.”

“And what’s that?” you reply in good-humour.

His cheeks flush darker, and his hand slows down as he regrets bringing it up. “I don’t know, Big Dick Namjoon?”

Although he said it quietly, the rest of the members hear as well as you, and you can’t help yourself from laughing, clapping a hand over your mouth to muffle to sound. The others hoot and jeer, but you regain your composure, clearing your throat. “Namjoon, if you have a big dick, you have a big dick. What’s the problem?”

He pulls his hands out of his pants and sits down fully in a huff. “Fuck, I can’t get it up with everyone staring at me, okay? And I’m a grower, not a shower.”

Your eyes automatically drop down to the already sizeable bulge in his pants. Shit. You bite your lip as you look at the time. “Okay, everyone, turn around,” you command. To the producer, you ask, “am I allowed to help? I know he’s not allowed to fuck me, but is a blowjob okay?”

Namjoon chokes violently on his spit, but you can see the way he relaxes slightly as the members grumble and reluctantly turn to face the wall. The producer gestures for the rest of the crew, except for two cameramen, to follow suit.

The producer turns back to you. “A blowjob is okay if Namjoon is fine with it, but it will still be counted on his time.”

You place a hand on Namjoon’s shoulder. “Up to you, big guy.”

Taehyung and Jungkook snigger at the nickname, but to your surprise, Namjoon puffs up his chest a little and nods. “Y-yeah, I’d like that. If you’re fine with it.”

“Alright then, lie down,” you command. After he does as he’s told, you notice he’s already starting to tent his pants, and you grin at the sight, brushing your hand over it and watching him shudder.

Aware of time, you skip the normal foreplay and go straight to unbuttoning his pants and reaching inside. There’s barely any precum beading at his head, so you put your mouth on him without warning. You quickly regret the decision as he thrusts his hips up in shock, and his steadily growing cock slips down your throat. You pull off him, coughing and gagging.

“Shit, sorry, I’m so sorry,” Namjoon chants, collecting your hair behind your head so that he can see your face.

If asked, you’d say that you were just concerned about time, but in reality, it’s impatience that causes you to snap. “Fuck this,” you say, sitting up and wrapping a hand around him, the other forearm holding his abdomen down. With firm, efficient strokes, you get him to half-mast and then rip the cock ring from his limp hand, slipping it on before getting him fully erect.

He tips his head back and knits his eyebrows in frustration at the feeling of the ring, but seems more than content to let you take over. For someone who’s feeling a little camera shy, he’s probably much happier lying down with his eyes shut, letting you take what you want.

You slip your panties aside and straddle him, until your clit is rubbing against the edge of the cock ring. There’s a slightly thicker part on the front of it, and you think it might be a vibrator of some sort. Upon fiddling with it for a moment, you find a switch and turn it on, enjoying the sight of the muscles on Namjoon’s lower abdomen tense up violently as he lets out a deep sigh.

With one hand steadying yourself on the bed and the other holding his cock upright, you grind your clit against the vibrating cock ring. You’re still a little sensitive before, and the hum between your legs is far weaker here that what the hitachi could do, and soon enough you’re panting from the effort.

“He better not be fucking her,” Yoongi calls out grouchily. “It sounds like someone’s getting fucked.”

Quickly, Taehyung sneaks a glance. “Yeah, Namjoon.”

“What?” It’s Yoongi that speaks, but it’s all of the remaining members that are turning back around to sneak a glance at what’s going on.

“Hey!” Jungkook calls out. “That’s cheating! They’re not allowed to use his dick!”

Namjoon pants out a frustrated sob and puts his hands up to block his ears.

You speed up your efforts in the hope that he can be done with his turn soon. You know he’s already taken longer than Jimin by far. “It’s not,” you pant between desperately grinding, ��penetrative, so it’s, fine. Turn, ah, turn back around.”

The youngest huffs and turns around with a scowl. The others do the same, and after what feels like an eternity, you feel yourself getting close. “Ah, okay, Namjoon, it’s almost over.”

But the leader still has his eyes clenched shut and his ears blocked, so you just ride the side of his cock until you reach a rather unsatisfying end, waving a hand at the producers to signal it as your hips come to a slow.

Once you get your breath back, you realize the vibrations are probably still causing Namjoon hell, so you gently rub his cheeks with your thumbs and peel his hands away. He opens his eyes, breathing shallowly, sweat matting his hair to his temples. “Is it done?” he asks weakly, and you smile fondly down at him.

“I’m gonna take it off now, okay?” After he nods, you reach down and slip it off as quickly and as painlessly as you can. The moment it slips past his head he swears loudly and a spurt of cum shoots up and over your hand. Almost instinctively, you wrap a hand around him and jerk him through his orgasm, surprised at the sheer amount of white coating your hand and his lower stomach, some even getting on the parts of his shirt that weren’t pushed up far enough.

When he comes down, it’s you that’s bringing him a cup of water, lifting his head up so he can swallow it down slowly. You clean yourself and him up with some tissues handed to you by a staff member, and begin dressing him again.

“Namjoon, are you still with me?” you question softly, relieved when he hums his affirmation. “If you were uncomfortable, you could’ve said red, you know. That safe word is for all of us.”

He arches his back a little to stretch his spine, becoming a bit more coherent. “I was fine,” he insists, “a bit nervous, maybe. I’m fine.”

“I’m sorry that I kinda took over,” you apologise as he sits himself up. “I figured you’d want it over with.”

He waves you off. “I’m sorry I didn’t do a better job. Now everyone is going to know Big Dick Namjoon is a pillow princess.” He holds a solemn gaze for a moment, before cracking you a smile to tell you he’s just joking.

You kick at his shins playfully. “Go on then, princess, send the next one over. I haven’t got all day.”

You dangle your legs over the side of the bed and lean back on your hands, appraising the group in front of you. Namjoon’s joined Jimin on the floor in the corner, apparently both men resigned to last place, Jin and Yoongi still puffing their chests out like the cat that got the cream. Taehyung and Jungkook look half asleep, and finally Hoseok is heading over to you, swinging the thin silver chain of a nipple clamp set ominously.

“You’re up next, huh?”

“The mood in this room has taken a hit, so I’m here to bring the sexual tension back up.”

“Is that so?”

He hums in affirmation and stands between your legs, glancing over to check up the time before staring back down at you. “Tell me, Y/n, do you like the clamps as they are, the natural weight of them pulling at your nipples just slightly?”

You shrug. “I’m not telling you. Find out for yourself.”

“Or do you want me tugging on them as I force another orgasm from your tired body?”

You can’t help your hips from shifting on the mattress and your tongue to dart out and wet your lips as his eyes darken mischievously.

“Good,” he murmurs, one long and delicate finger playing with the little tightener screw on one of them. You swallow at the sight. He glances up once more at the timer, then reaches down and unceremoniously tugs off your panties. You squeak a little in surprise, but by the time you react he’s already got your bra straps dangling off your wrists, and you automatically lob the bra away. “Get up on the bed properly,” he commands in a gruff voice, and you scramble to comply. “Hands on the bars of the headboard, you won’t like what happens if you remove them.”

You wrap your hands around two of the narrow but solid wooden posts and wait in anticipation, breathing shallowly in excitement.

Unlike the others, he doesn’t get on the bed with you, simply reaches out and grabs the nearest arm and leg and pulls you roughly to his side. You pick new bars to grab onto, but he takes one hand and spreads it further apart so that your chest is opened out fully for him.

He doesn’t even bother looking at you as he addresses you, focusing instead on loosening the screws on the clamps. “You will not speak, unless it is your safe word. You will not move, unless I tell you to. And you will not cum until I give you permission. Nod if you understand.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you nod with lidded eyes.

He glances up, almost in disdain, and uses one strong hand to push your thighs open. A scoff. “I haven’t even done anything, and you’re already dripping for me. Four men aren’t enough for you, hm? They didn’t give you what you needed?”

Tentatively, you shake your head.

“That’s what I thought,” he comments, reaching out to scrape a fingernail over one of your already-stiff nipples. You gasp and squirm away from the roughness of his touch, but he grabs onto it and twists it roughly. “I asked you not to move, didn’t I? I guess it was pointless of me to give you instructions. This whole time, you’ve never listened to anything my brothers have told you, isn’t that right? My little whore doesn’t even know how to behave. Well,” he says lightly, pinching the other one and watching you writhe underneath his ministrations, “every time you misbehave, those clamps are going to get one turn tighter. That’s what you have to do to a slut that can’t listen. Let’s get them on now, shall we?”

As you feel yourself growing impossibly wetter, a thought strikes you. So far, he hasn’t seemed at all concerned about time. And you remember the last person who wasn’t in a rush was Yoongi, and you knew how that one ended. You watch with wide eyes as he slips the pincers over your left nipple, screwing it up until it stays on by itself, a pleasant pressure. He does the same to the other.

“Jesus, we don’t have all day, hyung,” Jungkook whines impatiently, “Tae-tae and I still haven’t gone.”

Hoseok turns around with an unimpressed stare. “If you want to bitch to me about time management, I’ll rip these clamps off Y/n and see how much you like wearing them.”

Jungkook’s face goes pale. “I’d like to revoke my statement. Please continue.” Taehyung silently cracks a smile and punches a very frightened Jungkook in the arm once Hoseok turns back to you.

“Now,” Hoseok announces, “there were two different times you closed your eyes when Yoongi-hyung had ordered you to keep them open.” You bite your lip as he gives each clamp a solid turn, the gentle pressure becoming more of a dull pinch. “Then you didn’t use your safe word when you probably needed to.” Another turn on each, and your fingers clench and unclench the bedposts, wanting desperately to reach down and stop him. “And of course, today you kept looking at us when Jin-hyung wanted you to focus on him.” The turns were becoming more painful now, and even though he had done nothing else, you were beginning to pant. “Worst of all, you took off the pants that I so kindly gifted to you.”

“Hey!” you blurt out before he can reach down. “That’s not fair, that wasn’t part of the ga-ah! Ow! Dammit!” With a dark glare in his eyes he tightens each clamp a turn and a half, the pain causing you to squeeze your eyes shut. “Fuck, I’m sorry!”

“Sh, sh,” he soothes, breath tickling your cheek as he bends down. “Use your safe word if you need, little girl. That’s the only way I’ll stop.” With teary eyes, you shake your head firmly. “Okay, then.” Almost playfully, Hoseok hooks a finger onto the chain between the two clamps and tugs down, sending jolts of shock straight down to your core. Although it hurts, you’re so turned on you feel like you could just about come untouched.

Since you’re not allowed to talk, you settle for pleading with your eyes and a pitiful whine to really sell it. Hoseok smiles down at you. “That’s a good girl,” he coos, “so desperate for me to take care of you. You handled your punishment well, hm? You want your reward?”

You nod feverishly, hands gripping the posts tight enough to make your knuckles go white as you eagerly anticipate his touch.

With a shit-eating grin, he continues gently tugging the chain with one hand, and reaches down, dipping two fingers into your soaked core with ease and curling up to find your g-spot, fingering you roughly and almost immediately sending you into the most powerful orgasm yet. You cry out, tears finally spilling down your cheeks as he takes your blissful high as an opportunity to give the chain a tight snap, the clamps being harshly tugged off your abused nipples. You sob as the blood painfully rushes back into them, putting an overwhelming heat into your breasts, but still he uses his fingers to temper the pain with delicious pleasure, his free hand gently massaging your sore breasts one at a time.

You can hear the slick sound of his fingers leaving you once you finally relax and come to. With no energy left, you’re once again grateful to the mindful eldest, who rushes over with some water even though it was Hoseok’s turn. You hear Hoseok thanking Jin, something you’re currently incapable of doing as you greedily suck in the cool water in the largest gulps you can muster. Jin wipes the drops that spilt over the edges of the cup and down your chin and disappears again, leaving only Hoseok, who continues to massage your breasts, avoiding the nipples which are blooming a dark red.

“You did really well, Y/n,” he soothes, “I’m sorry if that was a little intense.”

You shake your head weakly. “Good. Really good.”

He chuckles good-naturedly. “So maybe I’ll have a lasting impression after all?” he questions teasingly, calling back to your earlier conversation.

“Depends on your maknaes,” you reply in a tired slur. “Who knows, maybe Taehyung’s got some freaky tricks up his sleeve with that textured condom.”

You share a laugh with Hoseok, then let him and Jin help you off of the bed to stretch your legs a little. Instead of getting back into your sopping underwear, a staff member hands you a fresh pair, the exact same design but beautifully clean and smelling of fresh linen rather than sex. You shakily step into the panties, holding onto Jin’s shoulder for support, and once you’ve clipped your bra on, you hobble your way over to the snacks table, gulping some more water and having some of the food splayed out.

“Come on, snap snap,” Jin cheers once you’ve finished. “Taehyung’s next, and I for one cannot wait to see him fumble around with a ribbed condom for ten minutes.”

You roll your eyes at him playfully and walk back to the bed where Tae is waiting awkwardly with the famed silver packet. “You got a plan to use that thing?”

He nods calmly. “I’m not gonna be doing anything exciting, sorry, but I don’t think I’ll take as long as Namjoon-hyung.”

You glance over to the man himself, who has his cheeks stuffed with a chocolate chip muffin that he had snatched from the table. “Yeah, I think your leader is pretty content in his defeat.”

Taehyung grins crookedly, then takes note of the time. “Alright, I’ll get going now if that’s okay?”

You smile softly at his formality. “Yeah, go ahead. Where do you want me?”

He bites his lip. “Okay, so maybe I don’t have a plan. Fuck, how do I-” he breaks off as he fumbles with the packet, ripping the serrated edge and pulling out a rolled-up slip of clear, colourless latex covered in oddly placed bumps. “On your back, I guess. Could you stick your legs over the side?”

You obediently scoot down until your butt rests on the supported edge of the mattress, jumping a little at the warmth of Taehyung’s palm rests on the inner skin of your thigh. “Is that okay?”

Instead of answering, Tae just stares softly at the juncture between your legs as he slips off the fabric. Gingerly, he leans forward, but instead of the wet muscle you were expecting, the slightly firm tip of his nose bumps ever so lightly against your clit. You sigh out, letting your head tip back against the duvet cover and staring blankly at the ceiling. God, you were exhausted, and you still had two orgasms to go.

Luckily, Taehyung was in no mood to mess around. You felt the strange sensation of the condom sliding between your folds, tucked over three of his fingers. Your pelvic muscles twitched when it slid over your overly sensitive clit, and the chuckle Tae responded with blew warm air over your heat. His voice is low with lust when he addresses you. “Do you want the condom inside you or over your clit?”

You suck your lip into your mouth at the thought. “Inside, please.”

Your legs automatically fell more open as he complied, and the feeling of the uneven texture pressing into you, with the stretch of three fingers ensuring heavy friction, was heavenly. Up until now, you had only been treated with fingers, and, in Yoongi’s case, a whole hand. But now, the new level of pleasure came from the deliciously bumpy slide as the ribbing plunged in and out of you.

Perhaps more so than the other members, Taehyung seemed unconcerned with being particularly sexual or teasing, instead going straight for the kill. You clutched handfuls of the soft duvet cover to anchor you as his head dipped down again to start nibbling at the sensitive skin just around your clit, occasionally darting his tongue out to lick a flat stripe directly on top of it, his fingers thrusting impatiently all the while, curled up just enough to drag against that rough spot inside of you.

You felt your legs begin to shake, and the coil inside you tighten. “T-Tae, I’m right there, oh god,” you puff out, and he doubles his efforts, giving your clit a final, harsh suck to send you over the edge.

This orgasm is still powerful, but you feel so weak that you barely move, just moaning out and wiggling your hips beneath him wantonly, breathlessly congratulating him on a pretty great time, earning a solid third place.

Once more, your loyal waterboy Jin approaches with a fresh cup, but you can barely drink it, quickly ducking out of the room to go pee and clean yourself up before you return.

Finally, you’re on the last person to go, but you’re a little worried that that person is Jungkook. The butt plug he’s wielding is pretty small, a little pink one with a small, user-friendly handle on the outside for ease of insertion and removal, but what you’re concerned about is that he’s allowed to fuck you. Of course, you’d given your consent upon signing the initial contract, and you knew they’d all happily not do it if you were really uncomfortable, but that wasn’t the problem.

The problem was how fucking excited you were to finally be getting fucked, even after four other pretty intense orgasms today. It clearly said something about you sex drive, that even as your eyes struggled to stay open and your legs trudged under you as if you were walking through glue, you had been eyeing up the way that the outline of Jungkook’s cock was very visible, straining against the fabric of his skinny jeans down the right side of his thigh.

Earlier, as you were finishing off the drink Jin gave you, you had seen Jimin teasingly running a finger over and around the outline, as Jungkook half-heartedly batted his hand away. You were certain that the moment your dwindling break time ran out, he’d be well ready to go. You sat back on the bed, panties already damp again.

Taking revitalizing deep breaths, you watch Jungkook closely as he approaches you wth a cocky grin, shaking his head. You frown at him, but he just gestures for you to stand up. “Come on, this bed’s getting boring. Now that all the toys have been used, the table is free. Bend over it.”

You bite down on the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from grinning in satisfaction as you hop off the bed and make your way over, jumping slightly as he gives your ass a little slap when you walk past him. As requested, you bend over the table and wiggle your ass at him.

“Man, I really made the right decision, huh? Look at you; you’ve had six other men get you off, but it’s never as good as a real cock, is it?”

You frown impatiently. Hoseok was better at dirty talk, and you just wished Jungkook would get on with it. “Hurry up if you want to win.”

You hear him laugh disbelievingly at you, rubbing a hand over your ass, grabbing a handful appreciatively. “Have a little patience. I’ve gotta get this in first.” By the way he collects your juices with a pointer finger before sliding up to your back entrance, you know what he’s talking about. Forcing yourself to relax, you whine as his finger breaches the tight ring of muscle and sinks down. He wiggles his finger inside of you and you feel your heels lifting off of the ground as your body begs for more.

“Shit, hyungs,” he calls out, “you idiots missed out. I can’t believe how tight she is. Maybe I should put the plug in her pussy instead and fuck her like this?”

Your walls clench around nothing and the muscles in your ass squeeze his finger at the thought. “Come on, I don’t care, just hurry up,” you plead, dissatisfied with the single digit.

Thankfully, he dips back down and slicks up another finger, sinking back inside you, beginning to stretch you out with scissored fingers. “Nah,” he ponders conversationally, “the plug is too small for her cunt, it’d probably slip right out with how wet she is. See, hyungs?” his voice grows louder when he stops talking to the camera and instead addresses the other members. “It’s all about strategy. They don’t call me the golden maknae for nothing!”

Yoongi huffs. “You haven’t even gotten started yet, and you’re almost at Hoseok’s time. Don’t act all cocky.”

“I’ll show you cocky,” he gruffly replies, before withdrawing his fingers. You sigh at the loss of contact, but soon enough a firmer object is being pressed against you, stretching you open.

Jungkook’s right; the plug is pretty small, even for your ass, and the pleasure comes from the way it jostles inside you as the youngest wiggles the handle playfully. “Seriously, anyone would think you didn’t want to fuck me,” you complain, “where’s your sense of competition?”

A ruffle of fabric and a solid hand on your hip is your only warning before Jungkook is driving into you with one merciless thrust. You cry out and rise up on your tiptoes again, but you can’t go far. He’s easily longer then the three fingers Tae fucked you with, and even slightly girthier too, and the stretch would be too much to bear all at once were it not for the fact that your abused pussy couldn’t be more prepared for him. Finally beginning to act like he was under a time crunch, Jungkook steadies you with one hand on your hip, and gives himself momentum by placing the other on your opposite shoulder, fucking you back onto him just as much as the thrusts into you.

“Fu-uck, oh god,” you moan out, grateful at the angle he chose, as every deep plunge causes his pelvis to strike against the outside of the butt plug and wiggle it around inside you. Your back is arched from his grip on your shoulders, and the extra pressure is pushing your front into the rounded table edge, providing the slightest tease of friction against your swollen clit.

You can’t help but pant as you’re taken exactly how you were hoping to be, and Jungkook’s so focused on fucking you with as much speed and depth as he can that the only sounds coming from him are groans and growls from clenched teeth.

With both hands keeping you steady on the table, you can’t reach down to palm at your tits or give yourself more clitoral stimulation, so you whine out. “Jungkook, so close, I need more.”

Without complaint, the maknae pulls out of you and hastily flips you over onto your back, before picking you up without warning. You squeal in surprise and wrap your arms and legs around him as he displays his strength, no doubt wanting to show off not only to his hyungs, but to the millions of ARMY watching. His brows are knitted in concentration as he lifts up your ass, lining himself with your entrance and dropping you back down, wasting no time before he’s using your hips to fuck you onto him.

This new angle means that your butt plug for the most part stays snug and still, but the increased proximity is making his pelvis grind right onto you, rubbing against your clit every time he speared you on his cock. “Yes, that’s it, oh, fuck,” you pant out dreamily, feeling the full wave of pleasure building inside you from your core outwards.

“Fuck, Y/n, you’re clenching so tight around me I can barely move,” Jungkook says, and reluctantly he tips you back so that you’re resting on the table, easing the stress on his leg muscles, and instead lifts your legs onto his shoulders so that he can plunge into you faster, a hand snaking down to keep rubbing at your clit. “Come on, cum for me, just one more, you can take it.”

Like on command, the drag of his cock inside you is too much, and you’re tightening impossibly around him, crying out his name in euphoric pleasure. He fucks you through the orgasm, chasing his own, and mutters a quiet swear as he pulls out and jerks himself off to completion, head tipping back as streams of cum land on the top of your stomach.

Once you catch your breath, and Jungkook has spent all the cum he has, the two of you come to your senses, Jungkook first. “Oh, shit,” he exclaims, “I’m so sorry, I should’ve asked if you were okay with me-”

Before he can finish his hasty apology, your hand dips down to trail a finger through his cum, collecting some of it on your finger. You send him a coy smile and he gulps, wide-eyed, as you bring that finger up to your mouth and suck the cum off, swirling your tongue and hollowing your cheeks. “You were saying?”

His mouth dangles open. “Uh…nothing?”

You chuckle and sit up, unable to stop yourself yawning, clapping a hand over your mouth as exhaustion takes its hold on you yet again. “Can you grab me a-”

“Tissue? Here you go.” You crack your eyes open again to see Jin with a cup of water as usual, and a box of tissues.

You laugh sleepily. “You know, Jin, if I didn’t know better, I’d assume this was you flirting.”

His eyes are bright. “Well?” You give him a shrug of confusion. “Do you know better?”

You shrug again. “Maybe let me wipe the other man’s cum from my body before you start wooing me.”

Jungkook, still hovering awkwardly beside you with his dick half-tucked away, lets out a gasp of offense. “I’m the other man? I don’t think I’m cut out to be a mistress, honestly.”

You scoff, cleaning yourself up. “You two are both dorks. Just let me get cleaned up and we can shoot the outro.”

--

“Good job everyone, good job,” Hoseok announces proudly, the group of you clapping to applaud the end of the episode. You all, thankfully, had been allowed to change clothes, which for you meant to hell with that fucking lingerie set, and into some real clothes. In some sneaky twist, Hoseok had managed to convince the stylists to make you wear his Balenciaga sweats with a plain white Gucci tee.

“Y/n, how did you find these past two days?” Yoongi leans over, adjusting the thick frames of his glasses. He seems completely separate from the man who bent you over and shoved his entire fist in you. You wondered how ARMY would react to that.

“Very fun, but extremely tiring,” you say to both him and the cameras, “I was really surprised by some of you.”

Jungkook and Taehyung snicker as Taehyung does a fist pump in the air. Whether it’s a seal of victory for himself, or a crude re-enactment of Yoongi’s turn, you’re not quite sure.

“I, personally, was really shocked at how Namjoon-hyung was so camera-shy,” Jimin mentions, “I hadn’t expected he’d be the one to struggle with that.”

Hoseok grins and claps a hand on the leader’s shoulder. “As we’ve learned from today, everyone, Namjoon prefers to watch.”

Namjoon laughs, squeezing his eyes shut in embarrassment. “I swear I’m not that bad at it in real-life. Please don’t be disappointed in me, ARMY.”

“What I found most interesting during shooting,” you butt in, “is how kind Jin-oppa is.” The other members make various noises of agreement, and the man himself smiles softly, cheeks puffing up. “I wasn’t surprised, because I know the guys are all so nice, but he was always very thoughtful. I don’t know how much will be shown on the main episode, but I really hope the editors put it in the behind the scenes. I think irrelevant of times, Jin is the winner of the title of best boyfriend for this episode.”

Hoseok nods strongly. “I agree, Y/n. Even when his temporary girlfriend was being fucked by other men, he still looked out for her.” He breaks his serious façade and cracks up at the look on Jin’s face.

“Hey!” the eldest cries out. “ARMY, when I date you, I won’t let Hoseok stick jumper cables on your tits.”

Hoseok’s mouth drops open in an ‘o’. “Seokjin-hyung, I think that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said.”

“Do you want to find out the winners and the losers?” the producer asks.

Jimin and Namjoon’s faces fall, and Jimin turns to latch onto Namjoon like a koala. “You don’t have to say the losers, we already know,” he murmurs sadly.

The producer laughs. “Alright, then, in first place is Jin, and in second place is Hoseok.”

Yoongi’s face crumples in annoyance as he loses his second place victory. “By how much?”

“You were third place by three seconds,” the producer replies.

He tips his head back in annoyance, then fixes an intense stare down the barrel of the camera. “I’m sure ARMY will agree with me that it’s about the quality, not the quantity. In that sense, I clearly won.” Without giving the other members a chance to defend themselves, Yoongi closes up the episode. “Run!BTS will be back!”

After a final chant of the title, the episode is over, and the credits roll.

[clubofinfo]

Expert: Yes, it’s just as you suspected, your constitution’s gone. You’re not getting it back. You’re trapped in a sadistic totalitarian state under Argus-eyed surveillance. Your democracy is fake. Your government has one branch, CIA. Sorry! That’s partly my fault. It’s not entirely my fault, of course – it’s a big job, defiling all your rights and freedoms. It got parceled out in countless bits of piecework. I did not contribute much. I didn’t work that hard. And anyway, I was a dupe. None of the worker bees knew what the others were doing. None of them saw how the pieces might fit together. Organized crime has gone through an industrial revolution of its own. Compartmented information was the key. The greatest, gravest crimes can be broken down by division of labor and division of guilt until evil’s not merely banal but tedious, like any other sort of work. National survival, they called it. Or COG, Continuity of Government, COOP, Continuity of Operations. The idea was, before the nuclear war got going, CIA would spread out and hunker down in major population centers, hide behind the skirts of lots of mommies. When Saddam Hussein does it, he’s using human shields. When CIA does it, that’s different. They are raising the threshold of conflict by making counter-force shade into counter-value, in the argot. The Russians can’t decapitate the government, you see? They would have to kill us all. After the war, so the plan went, CIA would crawl out from under the rubble and take over. The arrangements were quite elaborate, with far-flung hideouts, special grapevines for insiders, experts in post-nuclear stone age skills on call, Soviet-style inter-agency central planning. They made lists of dissenters to put away and elaborate procedures for CIA to choose your rulers. It’s all around you, when you know where to look. Even here in the author’s dispensable backwater there’s a nuclear redoubt, a cut-rate Führer-bunker for the small fry of total war. They dug it into the property of a gentleman farmer of oldest Puritan New England, a thick concrete manhole in a flimsy shed earmarked for minor provincial death merchants, bygone and vain as an Etruscan tomb. Once at one of the larger mountains they hollowed out to hide in – an impregnable eagle’s nest weirdly reminiscent of a high school cafeteria – inner-party CIA spooks let on what scared them most. It sure wasn’t nuclear war. We pored over the minutiae of nuclear tit-for-tat. The RISOP, they called it – two or three thousand of these aimed at all your favorite things. If you’re in one of the bubbles, that means you will be buried under rubble, or sloughing ash that used to be your flesh. These duck-and-cover war plans for the home front inevitably seem silly when you think it through. Who decided to pick a fight with the Russians? You think you can scare them? This is a country that nuked themselves with a 50 megaton warhead just to see what would happen. It didn’t set the atmosphere on fire, that was a relief, but once you’ve tried it, nuclear war is not all that exciting. Nuclear winter takes all the fun out of it. It’s one thing to make people grow potatoes and give up coffee for the troops. But if your part is to end up an unscorched shadow on a chunk of concrete or a tottering skeleton shitting blood in a refugee camp, that’s different. It wasn’t just the obvious drawbacks that made the plan implausible. It’s hard to take Armageddon seriously when your enemy loses interest, then ceases to exist. So by 1991 the idea had proved not merely crazy but pointless. But instead of chucking it when the Soviets quit, they gussied it up with contingency plans for everything else they could think of, even far-fetched things like domestic insurrections. I put it down to bureaucratic inertia and jobs for the boys, and went on to the next thing with relief. But COG and COOP remained. It never occurred to me they could knock down a couple of buildings and roll it all out. What a dupe, eh? I should have seen it coming – I browsed the safes like they were bookshops and poked my nose shamelessly into other people’s compartments, especially abroad, where people gossip more. But bureaucracy is boredom. Having gone off to see the world, I had forgotten all about it by the time we learned what it was for. CIA infiltrated foreign intelligence cutouts into our country, repeatedly rescuing them as they skulked conspicuously into hopeless pickles. In the Riyadh CIA station, John Brennan declined to inquire about these outlandish picaros, lest we hurt some prince’s feelings, as Cofer Black ran around furiously barking up the wrong tree. CIA moles arranged a distracting commotion of exercises and put some befuddled cub scout in charge of the national military command center. Then came a puzzling series of spectacles. Planes crashed and missed the crater or just disappeared. Intact passports and engine nacelles wafted to earth. Israeli mad bombers got caught and sent home with a spanking. Buildings fell down for no reason. Then Donald Rumsfeld called DEFCON3. That made COG official. He dusted off the daft apocalyptic bumf that we churned out. The part where CIA takes over he plopped on the table at Congress and made them rubber-stamp it as the PATRIOT ACT, pixie-dusting the dawdlers with government-issue anthrax. The touchy bits he and Cheney issued as assorted secret decrees. So here we are. Your local CIA fusion center crushes dissent while daring the Russians to nuke them. They pore over your social-media expostulations and rat you out to the police for your despondent fits of pique. Blackmailed pedophiles and crooks in Congress and the courts grovel to Langley. You can’t have health care or higher education or honest work because they take all the money for spies and police to keep you in control. You don’t need to berate me, I’m thoroughly embarrassed. And to be brutally honest, your subjection’s just a matter of degree. Threescore and seven years ago, your founding fathers, the Dulles brothers and Clark Clifford, brought forth on this continent a new nation, dedicated to the proposition that they’re in charge. They set out new state papers for Americans to live by: the National Security Act and the Central Intelligence Agency Act. They got busy at once. From the new regime’s inception CIA pushed aside your first choice, Taft, for Ike, shot your next president and two unauthorized aspirants, RFK and MLK, framed and ousted your fourth president and replaced him with one of the stooges who covered up their JFK coup, plotted with foreign spies to push out your sixth president, and shot the seventh. CIA then dropped the arms-length pretense and put their own men in the president’s seat: Bush, Clinton, Bush, Obama. CIA Director Bush; Clinton, recruited at Oxford by Cord Meyer; spy brat G.W. Bush; Obama, son of spooks, grandson of spooks, shoehorned into Harvard by Prince Alwaleed, Safari Club associate of the CIA permanent government. And even these loyal cadres know who’s the boss. Kennedy was the last president who didn’t know he was a puppet ruler. And they didn’t give their puppets much rope between purges, either. When Truman and Congress denied the DCI authority for covert action, CIA ignored them and got to work knocking over free-world allies. When Eisenhower acted on his plan for global peace, CIA trundled a C-118 full of infuriating war plans past the waiting ack-ack guns in Soviet airspace, then, right before the triumphal disarmament summit they sheepishly crashed a U-2 at Khrushchev’s feet. CIA invaded Cuba with a doomed army of plucky imbeciles so Kennedy would have to save them. They whacked every hornet’s nest in Indochina and blamed the Pentagon when all was lost. They thought they ran the UN, too. When Dag Hammarskjold tried to negotiate an end to war in Congo, CIA shot him out of the sky. Along the way CIA picked off an assortment of lesser gadflies here at home. They took control1 of the press to keep it down to a dull roar. With in-house CIA figureheads warming the President’s seat, CIA started blowing us up. CIA moles in FBI pressed provocateurs into service. They set the provocateurs provoking each other to a frenzy till something blew up, then picked the dumbest one to hold the bag. They blew up Oklahoma City. They blew up the World Trade Center, twice. They blew up the Boston Marathon.2 Why? To scare you. To make you hold still for more draconian secret laws. And all the while they primped their internal security Gestapo, COG. COG was the great endeavor of the postwar era, bigger than any war or moon shot. 9/11 was the real Manhattan Project. It had its origins in the total war of WWII, which spawned a new military function called CAMG: Civil Affairs and Military Government. Bringing conquered populations to heel. Repentant CIA mole Fletcher Prouty related how CIA took it over from the military and metastasized it from a mop-up operation to an all-purpose template for taking over, over there or over here. The Bomb gave the concept a shot in the arm. Top Secret nuclear war plans left some un-nuked nooks and crannies for post-apocalyptic invasion. As soon as the rubble stopped bouncing in Russia, US administrators were to go to those enclaves and pen up the desperate survivors. They would dole out cans of US soy oil or cheese blocks or flour and crush signs of resistance. They would hand the new autocracy off to grateful collaborators they’d tipped to run to the safe zones. As nuclear arsenals burgeoned to ecocidal absurdity, military government went from strength to strength. It wasn’t military any more, it was strictly CIA, and it wasn’t government any more, it was a reign of terror based on murder, torture, and disappearance. The object was to decapitate independent civil society and crush resistance to CIA’s chosen puppets. CIA scaled its grandiose A-war plans back to gingerly counterinsurgency wars in Indochina, and scaled its CAMG up to the Phoenix Program. Secret Agent Frank Snepp told us all about it. Then CIA handed the wars off to foreigners to fight among themselves, siccing favored strongmen on dissenters and reformers. CAMG reappeared as Operation Condor. This freed CIA to focus on refinements of murder and torture, and to top up covert budgets with criminal enterprise. Secret Agent Philip Agee wrote about it. Journalist Gary Webb wrote about it too, till he shot himself twice in the head (Yes, that’s improbable. That’s the point.) CIA put the finishing touches on the USA’s CAMG regime. In the end, the only conquered population they could bring to heel was us. They lowered the threshold of apocalypse from thermonuclear war to the bumbling hurricane response of Katrina to peaceable assemblies of citizens to the Boston Marathon clown show. Rear guards of 4-Fs in soldier suits corralled peaceniks in Washington, lobbed bottles into crowds and shot displaced victims for sport in New Orleans, tortured Occupy hippies, and shambled through counterinsurgency marches in supine Boston neighborhoods. Sounds crazy, I know. But this is from the horses’ mouth. CIA gives you a reading list when they recruit you: Prouty, Agee, Snepp. They want to be sure you understand the line of work you’re getting into. Prouty’s book vanished off the shelves, Agee lived and died on the run, CIA sued and beggared Snepp. But their disgruntlement was not in vain. That’s how you learn the ropes when you sign on to rule the USA. Those books are not for Joe Blow. You did not read them in grade-school civics. It takes a foreigner to spell it out for you, like the exquisitely tactful Vladimir Putin. “The force of the United States bureaucracy is very great. And there are many facts that are not visible to the candidates until they become President. And the moment one gets to real work, he or she feels the burden.” He calls it the bureaucracy but it’s perfectly clear what he means. Among all the predatory corporate kleptocrats tearing strips off your prostrate form, mobbed-up bankers and genocidal opioid manufacturers and pipeline Pinkertons, Who is to arbitrate? The people with impunity, of course. The ones who can torture you or murder you and get away with it. That’s CIA. They delegate a lot, but they make sure it all gets done. Secretary of State Robert Lansing set out the US view of state sovereignty: “the essence of sovereignty is the absence of responsibility.” You are sovereign only if you can do whatever you want and get away with it. And who in America is sovereign in this sense, wielding absolute Sun King power of life and death for almost seven decades now? CIA. L’état, c’est les. The rest of the world directly contradicts the US concept of absolute sovereignty. As UN Secretary General Ban Ki-Moon put it, “Sovereignty is responsibility.” Tell that to CIA. They got their official impunity at the outset, in the Central Intelligence Agency Act, which put CIA business out of reach of any court. That proved a bit too blatant so they papered it over with a confidential gentleman’s agreement: the Rogers-Houston MOU. It gave the CIA director a Get-Out-Of-Jail-Free card. The CIA director can withhold his crimes from referral to the Justice Department. Other CIA red tape made their corpus delicti secret. The Intelligence Identities Protection Act lets you talk about the crimes as long as the criminals are not named – except that the operational files exemption lets the CIA director hide all the evidence, too. Judicial ‘political questions’ doctrine returns CIA to its original untouchable status when the beans get spilled. Once Congress has condoned CIA crimes out of blackmail, intimidation, or cowardice, however tacitly or vaguely, the courts don’t dare touch it. Prouty, Agee, and Snepp are not flukes. Repentant spooks continue to pop up, augmenting and curating the overwhelming evidence of CIA crime. The story doesn’t change. It’s not the deep state, or some ideological movement, neocons, realists, liberal interventionists. When the same message issues from different bureaucracies, it’s hard to resist the urge to coin a phrase to cover the war propagandists chorusing at State, the Pentagon, Treasury, FBI, and DHS. The war party. The permanent government. The New World Order… Call it what it is: the CIA. Prouty tells us that CIA’s deepest-cover agents are the domestic ones in our own government. Decentralized with cutouts and proprietaries and focal points; hidden in executive billets with secret contractors for skilled or dirty work; plotting in Safari Clubs with foreign secret services who harbor each others’ agents. Even the most perceptive observers can be distracted by CIA’s diffuse domestic infiltration: CIA spies3 and auxiliaries planted throughout all levels of government and civil society. If a sobered-up Tail-Gunner Joe revived to root them out his list wouldn’t number 205, it would run into the tens of thousands. It’s hard to take, I know. Can’t you feel the imbued itch to recite the comforting pejorative, ‘Conspiracy Theory!?’ CIA propounded that for you, in memo 1035-960. It soothes you when your first-world self image gets threatened by stray facts. It’s a fervent two-word prayer, an Our Father to imaginary benevolent authorities who will protect you. It can take years of confusion and anguish to lose your only faith. But by the time we’ve come to terms with this state of affairs, it will be over. The CIA regime will have fallen. The world is fed up. If in the last dark age Romans became Europeans, in this dark age, with luck, we’ll see Americans become humans. How that can happen is out of scope for this report, as the bureaucrats say. But as CIA subjects Americans to COG rule, the world is curbing and crippling CIA. The outside world – the 96 per cent of humanity not under CIA’s thumb – has decided that CIA’s impunity must end. CIA’s own functionaries are disgusted. Project Mockingbird can’t hide the sound of all the chickens coming home to roost. There is an intriguing whiff of panic from congressional attempts to designate Wikileaks an enemy when Wikileaks is the least of their problems. The sea change is explained in the prior broadsides linked below but it’s a long story with lots of tedious detail and creeping link rot. I’ll sum it up the next time we see ripples from this submerged feeding frenzy. When the USA goes the way of the USSR and the propaganda is dispelled, they won’t call this corporate snake pit America, they’ll call it Langley. Even if the nation stays in one piece, we’ll need to qualify the country with the state. There’s Germany, and then there’s Nazi Germany. The perfectly good land mass we call America is not to be confused with CIA America. That was Nixon’s nightmare of war without end.4 Now we’re all awake. * “PAO has relationships with reporters from every major wire service, newspaper, news weekly, and television network in the nation.” Big stories they manage directly. * Foreign intelligence asset Emad Salem taped himself reporting government participation in the WTC bombing and testified that the government stopped Salem from thwarting the plot. The government protected foreign intelligence asset Andreas Strassmeir and obstructed investigation of the OKC bombing. The government controlled accused Boston bomber Tamerlan Tsarnaev and the highly anomalous crime scene. * “Officer” Tom Gerard is a typical example: he has authority to abuse and foreign spymasters to blame if he gets caught. But his big boss is CIA. These are the real spies. They’re not in exotic locales. They’re here at home spying on you. * Nixon’s allusion to CIA crimes in a television interview on January 4, 1971, quoted in L. Fletcher Prouty, The Secret Team. http://clubof.info/

[denise-major-dodge]

Growing up my mother was a very traditional Filipina woman that moved here from Manila, Philippines, to live with my Caucasian father. They met thanks to his service in the United States Navy. (This is a fairly common story here in the U.S.)

I later found out I was adopted, but it was for the better. My biological mother was also Filipina, and my biological father I found out through a DNA test was similarly Caucasian. The difference between my biological parents and my parents that raised me, is my biological mother was a schizophrenic, alcoholic, and unstable woman suffering from an explosive anger disorder. (Not her fault, she suffered a lot in life.) My mother who raised me seemed bat-shit-crazy compared to the other parents in my neighborhood, but she genuinely loved me and I wouldn’t have traded my life experiences with her for anything else in the universe. She taught me how to endure.

The older I got I learned that EVERYONE is bat-shit-crazy. My mother was a product of what she knew and learned, as we all are. Now what does that make me? It makes me a very confused millennial trying to balance my place in society, my true self, and the emotional desire to hold on to the memories and habits of my deceased mother like a ritual.

So in honor of my mom who is now deceased, I dedicate to you this article. I love you mom. Rest in Peace.

10. ‘tabo’ (water dipper)

In the Philippines toilet paper is a luxury. (SERIOUSLY) So growing up my mother was very mindful about saving money. She never deterred me from using toilet paper, but was very INSISTANT on the importance of cleaning my “pek pek” with a “tabo!” (You can laugh, its okay!)

Literally a tabo is nothing more than a water ladle. You wash yourself with the water ladle to clean away the stuff toilet paper doesn’t clean, or in replacement of toilet paper entirely. Once you’re done cleaning yourself, you then use a clean wash rag to dry off.

Literally, you will feel like your private parts just came out of the shower instead of sitting on a toilet.

I dare you to give it a try, unless your Filipino then it’s very likely you already have one of these.

If you plan on traveling to the Philippines you’re going to want to get used to going to the restroom like this, because the MAJORITY of bathrooms you visit while there, aren’t going to have toilet paper. Most people say, after incorporating this restroom method into their lifestyle, they prefer it over toilet paper. Less waste with a cleaner feeling. If you don’t want to do this at all, I recommend you bring baby wipes everywhere you go.

The fanciest tabo I have ever seen: Hinoki Wood Ladle made by Bartok Design Japan Co.

(Filipino’s aren’t the ONLY Asian’s that practice this method of using the restroom.) This tabo is extremely fancy because of its Japanese minimalist design, it’s made out of natural antibacterial & antifungicidal wood, and highly recommended for its wellness and health benefits.

Very rarely does a Filipino household have a tabo that nice though. Most tabo’s, when you come across them, are plastic and very plain looking. They typically hold around 1 liter of water so that you can sufficiently clean yourself without having to repeatedly go back for more water.

  Here’s a more common tabo: Water Ladle Leaf Series Green Plastic Economical

This plastic water ladle holds 1.3 Liter and is just as efficient as the fancy wood Japanese one for a fraction of the price.

Of course its not naturally antifungicidal or antibacterial, which means if you use this kind of tabo, be sure to clean it with soap regularly. Even if the tabo doesn’t touch your private parts, your hand holding it might be transferring bacteria and germs.

These Cottonelle Fresh Care Flushable Cleansing Cloths are perfect for on the go if you don’t trust the toilet paper or tabo’s wherever you go.

09. Flip Flops

In a Filipino household, traditionally, you take your shoes off at the door to show respect towards the homeowners clean floors. Many cultures practice this around the world.

But if you’re Filipino you know that flip flops simplify EVERYTHING foot related. They let your feet breathe, they’re easy to slip on and off, you can get them in a variety of colors and in varying prices. WalMart has cheap foam $0.89 ones if you’re truly desperate. But lets look at some of the brands I see most regularly on other proud-Filipino feet. 🙂

The first set of flip-flops I’m looking at is a Filipino brand, the sandals are designed and made in the Philippines, and it’s bragged by many Filipino’s that this is the most comfortable sandal on the market.

Islander All-Weather Comfortable and Stylish Flip-Flop Sandals

The women’s versions have thinner straps and a different set of colors.

The Women’s Islander Flip Flop come in a few colors you won’t find in the men’s version. My favorite is color is red, and I LOVE their red women’s sandals.

I’ve seen women wear the men’s versions as well with no problems or qualms. It really just depends on what style you prefer.

OluKai is a Hawaiian brand of sandals that are also very popular with many Filipino’s.

They are an extremely sturdy and comfortable sandal that can withstand a variety of terrains. I’ve heard of people sandal-hiking with this brand of sandal for its sturdiness. So if you’re looking for a reliable sandal that will last you longer than a summer season, OluKai will have you covered. They also design men’s AND women’s sandals in varying price ranges.

OluKai Men’s Kohana Kai Moss/Dark Wood Sandal

Olukai Paniolo Sandal – Women’s Natural/Natural

08. Brooms! Walis TingTing and Walis Tambo

Not all brooms are created equally. 🙂 In the Philippines its common to see people cleaning their outdoor areas with what’s called a “Walis Ting Ting.”

It’s basically a stick broom, typically made out of coconut sticks. My mother always had at least three of these around our property growing up. She used them for a large variety of sweeping projects outside the house. My good friend Stephanie and I were joking about how our mothers also used them for punishment. We often got spanked in the butt with one of these stick brooms. Looking back on it, it’s funny. We never got hurt and it seems to be some sort of Filipino Tradition that her and I decided NOT to carry on. Haha! However, we use these brooms in our homes regularly for cleaning, and not for spanking!

Over time and with excessive use, the bottoms will start to fray and lose its sturdiness. Luckily, they aren’t that expensive. They’re actually cheaper and more economically friendly than a traditional broom you see in the United States.

STICK BROOM OR WALIS TING TING

Walis Tambo, AKA Whisk Broom

These brooms are typically used for only indoors. It’s perfect for tile, stone, and hard floor surfaces that you don’t want getting scratched up by the walis ting ting (the stick broom up above). Just like the stick broom, the walis tambo is  fairly cheap and economical. The very bottoms will start to break off or fray over time with regular use. Don’t be alarmed, it’s perfectly normal.

This particular whisk broom features “Baguio City” on the handle. It’s the location in which the broom is made, and also a popular location to visit in the Philippines.

Here’s a fairly cheaper one from Vietnam. (Again, the Philippines isn’t the only place these brooms are made and used.)

07. A Floral Rice Cooker

There’s millions of different kinds of rice cookers out on the market, but every time I visit a Filipino home, the rice cooker ALWAYS has flowers imprinted on the outside of it. I’m not really sure why, my moms explanation was, “maganda!” Which means beautiful. Filipino’s love their flowers, as did my mom, and myself.

This first floral rice cooker would have been my moms kitchen-wish come true. It holds up to 15 cups of UNCOOKED rice. That is A LOT OF RICE.

My mom would have been ecstatic though. This particular rice cooker cooks and keeps the rice warm for up to 12 hours without drying it or burning it. For anyone who has cooked rice on the stove top, you understand how difficult it can be to avoid burning or over cooking. This handy rice cooker does it all for you and you don’t have to keep an eye on it. It has a detachable moisture collector, retractable power cord to clean up counter clutter, and has indicator lights to show what stage your rice is in at that moment. You’ll also have enough left over rice to create enough fried rice to feed your whole family the next day.

This next rice cooker (Aroma Housewares ARC-914SBD Digital Cool-Touch Rice Cooker and Food Steamer, 8-Cup (Cooked), Silver) by Aroma House is the one I personally own.

There’s no flowers on it, but it does everything the previous one does, except with only 4 cups of uncooked rice. This is the perfect size if there’s only two people in the home. My boyfriend and I cook the 4 cups of rice, and turn the left overs into fried rice the next day. That’s also after eating steamed rice with our breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It also comes with a steam tray to steam cook single portions of vegetables or meat while your rice is cooking, and a sturdy rice paddle.

  06. Ya Gotta Have A Machete Or A Bolo Knife

I know that sounds crazy to most people, but I know the way my mom raised me, having a sturdy machete available is never a bad idea (as long as you know how to hold it and use it.)

If you watch those reality tv shows where they go out into the woods and venture, live, and hunt… (ex: Alone, Naked & Afraid… etc…) more often than not, there’s a machete there to help make their situation more tolerable.

While most people don’t live in rural areas where a machete might prove useful, others enjoy having them in their home on display, or slid between the mattress and box spring incase someone tried to murder you in your sleep (which my mother was always prepared for). If you’re going to keep a machete for self-defense though, you might want to learn how to properly handle it first. It’s not like chopping onions in the kitchen. (My mother was a natural fighter that did splendorous things around our home with a machete. It had to be her favorite tool.)

Pinuti III Philippine Visayan Sword –

This is probably the fanciest machete I’ve ever seen. It’s less like a normal machete and closer to a fancy sword. But none the less, it’s a beautiful example of what a Visayan Sword would look like from the PI. I could see setting this up in my home for display. I don’t think it’s something I’d want to use around the house. Although, I’m sure it could be useful in an emergency situation if you desperately needed a sword for some reason. The handle is beautiful too. It’s very simple yet sturdy and still presentable.

U.S. WWI Model 1909 Bolo Knife with Scabbard –

The M-1909 Bolo Knife was designed to aid US soldiers with jungle foliage that they found themselves in with incursions into Cuba and the Philippines. It was designed to be carried as a belt knife from its first production at the Springfield Armory in 1909. This fine reproduction is constructed of tempered high carbon steel blade with proper markings of the era. Arrives razor sharp! 19 inches in length, weighs 2 lbs.

This is a really cool Bolo Knife with an interesting history behind it. Plus you won’t have to worry about sharpening it when it arrives!

Gerber Gator Bolo Machete

I’m a huge Gerber fan. (Not the baby food company, lol) My pocket knife that I carry with me everywhere is a Gerber. Specifically it’s the Gerber EVO Jr Serrated Fiskers. It fits perfectly in my pocket, easy to flip open when I need to, and always proves itself useful.

It’s the strongest most well-made pocket knife I’ve ever owned.

I know their full size machete’s have the same reputation and will last you your lifetime. If you EVER have a problem, all you have to do is call Gerber; their items come with lifetime warranties. I don’t know anyone that’s had to use the lifetime warranty since their products are so well made, but it’s nice to know Gerber offers it.

05. Your Kitchen Must Be Stocked With Soy Sauce & Vinegar!

If you didn’t know, you HAVE to have both soy sauce AND vinegar to make at least the most basic recipe’s of chicken adobo; one of the MOST popular dishes of the Philippines.

I know in America if you go to a normal grocery store, you’re probably going to be running into store brand soy sauce and vinegar, or something along the lines of Kikkoman.

As a Filipina, I have cooked with a large variety of soy sauce and vinegar brands, and I have to say that my FAVORITE is Datu Puti. It’s a product directly from and of the Philippines, and it has the best flavor for achieving the best chicken adobo possible.

If you can’t find Datu Puti brand of soy sauce and vinegar near you, Amazon can ship it for the same price you’d pay in a store. Even if you don’t cook chicken adobo, or Filipino dishes, try this brand for what you usually use soy sauce and vinegar for. You will notice a more enhanced and palatable flavor. I highly doubt you’ll ever go back to use Kikkoman after trying Datu Puti.

Datu Puti Vinegar and Soy Sauce Value Pack – 1 liter bottle of each

Cane Vinegar and Soy Sauce Value Pack 1 liter bottle of Cane Vinegar (33.8 fl oz) 1 liter bottle of Soy Sauce (33.8 fl oz) Product of the Philippines

This set of vinegar and soy sauce will last me quite a while. You’re definitely getting your moneys worth with this brand.

04. Coconut Scraper!! (Fresh Coconut Is Always The Best!)

My mom had a wooden stool with a stainless steel coconut scraper securely screwed to one end. She’d place a bowl under the coconut scraper, grab the coconut, bring it out in front of her, and slam it down on the stainless steel’s serrated edges to crack it open.

My mom was a very resourceful bad ass, however I don’t suggest doing what she did. There are other safer methods for cracking open a coconut. But being able to sit on the stool and scrape the coconut right into the bowl was a very convenient way to get the meat out of the coconut.

Handy Portable Fresh-Coconut Shredder With A Stainless Steel Knife – Serrated Edges

This pretty much looks exactly like the one my mom had. The blade was the same shape which made scraping coconut super easy.

Coconut Shredder & Scraper

If you’re not interested in having something so bulky, our home also had a small hand held coconut scraper. They’re cheaper and can be used on other fruits and vegetables. For example, you can use one end to turn zucchini into spaghetti noodles.

03. Jufran Banana Ketchup!

There are two kinds that I know of; Hot or Regular. I personally like the regular, and if I want it hot, I mix Sriracha in the sauce. No matter what though, they are both fantastic!

Every Filipino household KNOWS they have to keep this in stock for lumpia, marinades, grilling, and so on. For those of you who’ve never had it, it’s similar to sweet and sour sauce that you see in Chinese buffet’s. The difference is, there is no sour, it’s thicker in consistency, and has a deeper red color. IT’S DELICIOUS! I personally don’t taste banana when I eat it either. I don’t really know how to describe it. I also add it when I’m cooking my fried rice. It gives the rice a light red/pink color and adds a different dimension to the flavor of fried rice.

Jufran Banana Sauce (Hot) – 12 Oz [Pack of 1]

Jufran Banana Sauce (Regular) – 12 Oz [Pack of 1]

02. The Decorative Wooden Fork & Spoon

We had a set in our home growing up. It’s a Filipino tradition. Unfortunately, when my mom passed away I didn’t inherit them. I’m not sure what happened to the set she had. Her set had a woman and a man carved into each utensil. My memory is foggy, but they were probably 12 inches long and maybe 2 inches wide.

Wooden Utensils Spoon and Fork Set – Natural Palm Wood Servers

More Traditional Looking Filipino Wooden Fork and Spoon

01. LUMPIA WRAPPERS!

If you have NOTHING ELSE on this list, you HAVE to at least have Filipino lumpia wrappers stored in your freezer. A Filipina/Filipino/Pinay/Pinoy… whatever you want to call us, CANNOT live without the possibility of lumpia in their lives. 🙂 Amen!

Spring Roll Wrappers, 8″ Square – 500 Sheets, 12 oz (Pack of 20)

This is best for deep fried traditional lumpia.

Banh Trang Mekong premium Vietnamese Spring Roll Rice Wrapper (22cm) 12 oz x3 pk

This is best for fresh spring rolls, not deep-fried. (Healthier version.)

Let me know what you think! Feel free to leave a comment below. What else would you have added to the list????? I know there’s A LOT of things I missed.

For you mama, Segundina “Dina” Tupag Lagrosas Dodge. I wouldn’t cherish these things if it wasn’t for her love and influence on me growing up. I love you mama! Rest In Peace.

    Dedicated to my Mom; RIP! I love you! 10 Items Every Filipino Household Should Have. Growing up my mother was a very traditional Filipina woman that moved here from Manila, Philippines, to live with my Caucasian father.