#deceive inc daddy

[redran6er]

Hans Moritz! My beloved 💕

[warped-historian]

Warped Tour, 2001

Dates:

June 22: Peoria, AZ

June 23: Las Vegas, NV

June 24: Fresno, CA

June 27: Chula Vista, CA

June 28: Ventura, CA

June 29: L.A., CA

June 30: San Francisco, CA

July 1: Lake Tahoe, NV

July 2: Boise, ID

July 3, George, Washington

July 5: Calgary, AB

July 6: Bozeman, MT

July 7: Salt Lake City, UT

July 8: Brighton, CO

July 10: Bonner Springs, KS

July 11: Maryland Heights, MO

July 12: Noblesville, IN

July 13: Milwaukee, WI

July 14: Somerset, WI

July 15: Tinley Park, IL

July 17: Sparta, KY

July 18: Antioch, TN

July 19: Little Rock, AR

July 20: Dallas, TX

July 21: Selma, TX

July 22: The Woodlands, TX

July 23: Corpus Christi, TX

July 24: New Orleans, LA

July 25: Atlanta, GA

July 26: Charlotte, NC

July 27: Orlando, FL

July 28: Pompano Beach, FL

July 29: Tampa, FL

July 31: Tampa, FL

August 1: Virginia Beach, VA

August 2: Pittsburgh, PA

August 3: Camden, NJ

August 4: New York, NY

August 5: Asbury Park, NJ

August 7: Cleveland, OH

August 8: Buffalo, NY

August 9: Boston, MA

August 10: Montreal, QC

August 11: Toronto, ON

August 12: Detroit, MI

Lineup:

AFI

Blink-182 (Played 7/14)

The Bouncing Souls

The Distillers (Played 6/22-7/22)

Dropkick Murphys (Played 8/1-8/12)

Fear (Played 6/22-6/30)

Fenix TX

Inspection 12 (Played 7/27)

Less Than Jake

The Living End (Played 7/10-7/12 and 7/14-7/15)

Me First and the Gimme Gimmes

Obtik (Played 7/23)

Pennywise (Played 6/22-7/8 and 7/27-8/12)

Rancid

Rollins Band (Played 8/1-8/9)

311 (Played 6/22-7/29)

The Ataris

D12 (Played 7/31-8/3)

Dub Pistols (Played 7/10-7/24)

Flogging Molly (Played 7/31-8/12)

Guttermouth (Played 6/29 and 7/6-7/15)

H2O

Jimmy Eat World (Played 7/25-8/5)

Kool Keith

The Misfits (Played 7/10-7/17)

Morgan Heritage (Played 7/25-8/12)

New Found Glory (Played 6/22-7/2 and 7/14)

Sum 41 (Played 7/27)

The Vandals

3rd Strike (Played 7/15-7/26)

7th House (Played 8/2-8/5)

Alien Ant Farm (Played 6/22-7/25 and 7/31-8/9)

Amen (Played 8/3-8/9)

The Apex Theory (Played 6/22-7/8)

Bigwig (Played 7/31-8/12)

Black Halos (Played 7/5-7/8)

Bodyjar (Played 6/22-7/15)

The Business (Played 7/14-7/22)

The Casualties (Played 7/13-7/23)

Catch 22 (Played 8/7-8/12)

DeRoot (Played 7/27)

El Centro (Played 7/20-7/23)

Esham (Played 6/22-8/3)

The Explosion (Played 7/17-7/29)

Good Charlotte (Played 6/22-8/5)

Grand Theft Audio (Played 8/9-8/12)

Hank 3 & Assjack (Played 6/22-7/15)

Hesher (Played 7/10-7/23)

Home Town Hero (Played 6/22-6/29)

Jaya the Cat (Played 8/2-8/5 and 8/9)

Jersey (Played 7/31-8/5)

The Juliana Theory (Played 6/22-7/3)

Liars Inc. (Played 6/28-7/12)

Little T and One Track Mike (Played 8/9-8/12)

Lost City Angels (Played 7/11-7/12 and 7/14-7/15)

Midtown (Played 7/17-7/29)

No Motiv (Played 7/31-8/12)

Pressure 4-5 (Played 7/7-7/8)

Rehab (Played 7/31-8/5)

River City High (Played 7/25-7/29)

River City Rebels (Played 7/12-7/14)

Rogue's March (Played 8/3-8/4 and 8/8-8/9)

Showoff (Played 7/25-7/31)

Slightly Stoopid (Played 6/30-7/8)

The Spitvalves (Played 7/27)

Sugarcult (Played 6/22-7/5)

Sum 41 (Played 7/10-7/26 and 7/28-8/12)

Thrice (Played 6/22-6/27)

The Youth Ahead (Played 8/5)

Zooloft (Played 8/4)

2 Cents Worth (Played 6/23)

Agent 51 (Played 6/27-6/29)

Anchor Man (Played 7/27)

Bargain Music (Played 6/22-6/27)

Belvedere (Played 7/5 and 7/31-8/5)

The Benjamins (Played 7/11-7/15)

Bumrukus (Played 7/26-7/29)

Defiance of Authority (Played 8/5-8/8)

DeRoot (Played 7/10-7/15, 7/20-7/23)

Destruction Made Simple (Played 7/29-8/1)

Deviates (Played 6/27-7/10)

Dover (Played 8/4)

Downway (Played 7/5-7/7)

The Eyeliners (Played 7/20-7/23)

Fatman's Belly (Played 7/5)

Grade (Played 8/8-8/12)

Hollywood Beach Brian (Played 7/27)

Idol Hands (Played 6/28)

The Impossibles (Played 7/31-8/5)

Jackpot (Played 6/30-7/3)

Japetto (Played 7/31-8/5)

The Know How (Played 7/28-7/29)

The Lawrence Arms (Played 7/5-7/10)

Lefty (Played 7/27 and 8/7-8/12)

The Line

Lovetone (Played 8/2-8/4)

Luckie Strike (Played 6/29-7/1)

Madcap

Mest (Played 7/15-7/19)

Obtik (Played 7/20-7/22)

Pepper

Pinhead Circus (Played 7/11-7/13)

Project Wyze (Played 8/9-8/12)

The Planet Smashers (Played 8/7-8/12)

Potluck (Played 6/30-7/1)

The Rocking Horse Winner (Played 7/26-7/29)

Shutdown (Played 8/8-8/10)

Sloppy Meateaters (Played 7/3 and 7/20-7/25)

Stunt Monkey (Played 6/30-7/1)

Switch (Played 7/8-7/19)

Sw1tched (Played 7/27)

Thursday (Played 8/1-8/4)

Tree (Played 8/7-8/9)

Tsunami Bomb (Played 6/22-6/28)

Userfriendly (Played 6/22-7/3)

Wanted Dead (Played 6/22-6/24)

Welton (Played 7/19)

151 (Played 6/29)

2540 (Played 7/26)

28 Gates (Played 7/29)

3NT (Played 7/20)

3rd Man In (Played 6/23)

40 Watt Hype (Played 6/24)

5 Spot (Played 7/5)

$50 Flander (Played 7/27)

The 7 Method (Played 7/25)

7minds (Played 8/5)

7th Rail Crew (Played 8/9)

AAK (Played 8/7)

Absolve (Played 8/9)

Addictive (Played 7/19)

Afrodesia (Played 7/19)

Aging Process (Played 6/23)

Agonistic Resemblance (Played 6/30)

All Access (Played 7/18)

Asbestos (Played 7/17-7/20)

Atomic Number 9 (Played 7/13)

B9 (Played 6/29)

Backhand (Played 7/24)

Benevolent Souls (Played 7/8)

Bi-Level (Played 7/11)

Big Dictator (Played 6/28)

Bill the Welder (Played 7/8)

Bird3

Blacklist Sunshine (Played 7/10)

Blend Engine (Played 8/4)

Blindshot (Played 8/12)

Blister 66 (Played 7/8)

Breakaway (Played 8/4)

Bruise Bros. (Played 8/9)

Buck32 (Played 7/25)

The Brodys (Played 6/30)

The Cartel (Played 8/10)

The Cartwrights (Played 7/11)

Chump (Played 7/7)

Civilized Animal (Played 7/3)

Closer Than Kin (Played 8/8)

ColdSnap-9 (Played 7/6)

Copper (Played 7/18)

Crowned King (Played 7/5)

Day Old Donuts (Played 7/23)

Deceiving Ralph (Played 7/17)

Dinkus9 (Played 8/8)

Dirtnap (Played 6/24)

Distorted Conduct (Played 7/21)

Distorted Penguins (Played 8/2)

D.O.S. (Played 6/28)

East Coast Pimps (Played 8/3)

Eastcide (Played 8/8)

Edinburgh (Played 7/12)

Enamel (Played 7/15)

The End of Julia (Played 7/20)

Epagee (Played 7/6)

Evil Engine 9 (Played 7/12)

Explosion 9 (Played 7/10)

Farmacy (Played 6/28)

Faster Than Eddie (Played 8/11)

FATE (Played 7/18)

Fixit (Played 7/2)

Flipside (Played 8/4)

Flipsyde (Played 7/14)

The Fonzarellis (Played 7/10)

Fullerton (Played 7/27)

Fusebox (Played 6/27)

GAGE (Played 8/9)

Gamma Rays (Played 7/31)

Glasseater (Played 7/28)

Going Nowhere (Played 7/28)

Gravity Crush (Played 7/14)

The Groovaholics (Played 7/11)

Guilt Trip (Played 7/5)

Happy Hour (Played 7/29)

Haverbrook (Played 7/25)

Hellshock (Played 7/15)

Higher Down (Played 8/10)

Hit By A Semi (Played 7/1)

IH5 (Played 7/23)

Ill Collaboration Unit (Played 8/1)

Implant (Played 6/30)

In Between Stars (Played 8/5)

INTAK (Played 7/17)

Ivet (Played 8/7)

Jackmove (Played 8/1)

Janis Figure (Played 7/14)

Jinxed (Played 8/11)

Just A Joke (Played 6/27)

Killshot (Played 8/12)

Kronik (Played 7/19)

Krystal Lake (Played 6/29)

Last Chance Hero (Played 7/22)

Last Place Champs (Played 7/13)

Law Of Motion (Played 7/6)

Lazerwolfs (Played 7/3)

Lesson 11 (Played 7/19)

Letterbox (Played 8/5)

Liquid Youth (Played 7/22)

Live For Today (Played 8/3)

Logiene (Played 7/20)

LoKey (Played 7/21)

Loopus (Played 8/8)

The Lost Cause (Played 7/6)

Lost For Words (Played 6/23)

Low Profile (Played 7/7)

Lucky Strikes Out! (Played 7/14)

Lure609 (Played 7/17)

Maladjusted (Played 7/7)

Marlinspike (Played 7/5)

May Flood (Played 7/24)

Miseuphoria (Played 7/31)

Mold (Played 8/10)

The Monjees (Played 7/28)

Motor Betty (Played 8/4)

MT Minds (Played 7/26)

Munkyfinger (Played 7/29)

The MunX (Played 7/24)

Mynis (Played 6/24)

Next To Nothing (PLayed 7/22)

Nine Lives (Played 8/4)

No Faced (Played 7/2)

Non Zero Sum (Played 7/3)

Nosedive (Played 6/24)

NoseDive (Played 8/7)

Omega Red (Played 6/28)

One Short (Played 8/11)

Outplay (Played 7/24)

The Pathetics (Played 6/30)

Peepin' Tom (Played 7/21)

Phrenik (Played 7/1)

Plight (Played 8/10)

Poptart Monkeys (Played 8/2)

The Proms (Played 8/7)

Racecar (Played 7/13)

REV-7 (Played 7/29)

Rudiger (Played 6/29)

Ruskabank (Played 7/10)

Scream Sophie (Played 7/26)

Secret Agent 8 (Played 7/22)

Shift (Played 6/27)

Shootin' Blanks (Played 6/23)

Sick (Played 7/8)

Skalami (Played 7/2)

Slack Season (Played 7/27)

Slingshot9 (Played 7/12)

Something Left to Learn (Played 6/22)

Space Nelson (Played 8/12)

The Spicoli's (Played 8/11)

Spindle (Played 6/22)

SpiralJinx (Played 8/3)

Squeezetoy (Played 8/1)

Stiff One Eye (Played 7/23)

StoneKracker (Played 7/21)

Stop Tyler (Played 6/22)

SubVert (Played 7/2)

Sundog (Played 8/2)

SuperGiant (Played 7/31)

Swerve (Played 6/27)

Swinging Lovehammers (Played 7/15)

Ten Ninety (Played 7/18)

Tenfold (Played 7/1)

Third Try (Played 7/15)

Tod. (Played 7/12)

Toque (Played 8/1)

Tornacade (Played 7/17)

Tragically Undecided (Played 7/25)

Twice The Sun (Played 7/28)

Twin Cam (Played 8/12)

The Twirpentines (Played 8/2)

Unfisted (Played 7/27)

Unfold (Played 7/7)

UnWell (Played 7/13)

UXB (Played 7/31)

Vally Lemmons (Played 7/23)

Wakz (Played 7/11)

Where's Arnie (Played 7/20)

Who's Your Daddy? (Played 7/3)

Willknots (Played 7/1)

Wyred (Played 8/3)

Years Apart (Played 7/26)

Zero State (Played 6/22)

[ceratonia-siliqua]

The Descent

This is the prequel to Heaven is a Prison (a place far worse than hell)! This can be read stand alone and it doesn’t matter which you read first but they are ordered based on publishing dates! 

I highly recommend reading this on Ao3 since I include some plot notes at the end of the fic! You don’t need them though, they just explain a few things. 

To the anon who requested this, sorry it took so long!

Ao3 Link

Summary: After Bucky's accident, it's a struggle to get back to normal, especially when things go sideways on the first day...

Warnings: Inces/t (father/son), Brain Injury, Extremely Non-Con, Forced Feminization, Dirty Talk, Humping, Cum Eating, and Underage/d. 

. . . . . . . . . . 

“Where’s my baby?”

When the doctors told Peter that was the first thing out of his father’s mouth after the accident, Peter broke down in tears. The kind that shimmer with relief and exhaustion as all the anxiety suddenly vacates your body. A nurse guided him to a side room, sat with him as he cried it out. She let him have his moment of weakness, didn’t say a word till he seemed ready to speak. Even then all she asked was if he was okay now.

He nodded, tried to explain that his dad’s odd sentence was a good thing. He’d always been his dad’s baby, since the day he was born and the nickname carried even into today at times. Just like his dad was always Daddy when they were at home, though this he kept to himself. Two words they had never grown out of and meant that if nothing else, his dad knew enough to be worried about Peter and want to see him.

When he seemed calm enough, the nurse placed an empathetic hand on his shoulder and offered to take him to his dad. Peter was out of his seat in a second, nodding wildly and wanting nothing more. They left, walking down a sterile white corridor, occasionally marked with signs or a piece of artwork to bring some color back into the monochromatic scheme of the floors and walls. It was isolating and… while not unfriendly, it certainly wasn’t welcoming.

The sliding glass doors that lead to the rooms were made private by a curtain, pulled close in just about every room, including Bucky’s. Before Peter could burst through and see his dad the nurse pulled him aside.

“Peter, your dad�� He’s awake but he didn’t get out unscathed.”

“I know, Ma’am. He got hit by a truck.” On a motorcycle. It has been low speeds which was the only reason he survived the semi tap that sent him spinning out into a ditch.

“No, honey. I’m not talking just physically. The doctors’ did some brain scans. He’s swelled up real bad and he might not remember things or be acting the way you remember.”

He could tell she was withholding details, the way she glanced down at one point gave it away. Her eyes momentarily filled with guilt she thought he hadn’t caught. He let it go for her sake.

“Okay… I still can see him though, right?” Doe eyes drove a stake straight through the poor woman’s heart, even if Peter hadn’t meant to.

“Of course. I wouldn’t have brought you just to make you march back out. Just know there is no shame in needing a minute. Okay? He’s still beat up pretty bad and is gonna be sore. He also needed to be put in mitts because he kept trying to pull his tubes out. We’re hoping they’ll get to come off once he’s settled down a bit.”

Peter nodded along, understanding and listening, but far more concerned with his dad and being by his side. It had been the two of them since he was born, the idea of losing him was a cold clawing dread that made him nauseous. Without his dad he had nothing, the idea of losing someone who was such a center piece in his life was like asking him to live without air. He was nowhere near ready to let go of his dad.

Eventually the nurse was satisfied. She opened the sliding door, standing back as Peter entered before closing it lightly behind him. With a deep, shuddering inhale, he pushed past the curtains.

The eyes he was met were his dad's, the color, the shape, all the same physically, but there was something fuzzy behind them, strange. Peter put it up to the medications and the obvious head injury, nobody would be one hundred percent after that kind of diagnosis. The slightly unfocused gaze cluing him in until suddenly they were shockingly alert and fixed on him. The mitts the nurse had warned him about reached out towards him, his dad laid out on his back.

“Darling, come here. Need to make sure you’re okay.” The movements were clumsy and while he understood perfectly what was being said, there was an off slur to the words and pauses.

Peter drew closer, coming up to the bed. His dad ran uncoordinated, mitted hands down his arms, expression focused despite the clear haze. The frustration was evident in his movements as he was unable to properly assess Peter’s state with the slabs of foam under his palms.

“How are you feeling, dad?” He gently grabbed Bucky’s wrists, trying to get him to make eye contact.

“I’m alright, just need to make sure you’re okay.” Grumbled out as he allowed Peter to hold onto him.

“Do you need anything? Water? A snack?”

“Just you baby, just you.” He pulled his wrists out of his son’s hands, went back to touching him as best as he could manage.

Tears fuzzed out the edges of his vision, Peter reached for his daddy. Needed to feel the one person in his life who made the world feel shapeless without his presence. Bent over at the hips and practically laying on the wounded man below him. He choked out a sob as strong, familiar arms closed over his shoulders and drew him in, chest to chest.

“I thought you were gone.” Not enough air in his lungs to make the words sound complete as they were punched out of him.

Dragged in as close as he could manage, Bucky tucked his nose behind his son’s ear. “Never. I’d never leave you behind, Peter.”

Hiccups, the kind you only get with the worst of tears, pelted his breathing. Hitched his breath every other beat as he came off the adrenaline and tried to settle back into his skin. Peter hid in Bucky’s shoulder, face obscured from the rest of the world as hot tears rolled down his dad’s neck, breaking the poor man’s heart.

Mitts passed over his head, trying to push fingers through his curls and failing. A growl tumbled through the chest beneath his palms as his dad cursed the damn restraints, Peter joined him silently. He glanced over his shoulder, the curtain was still closed.

“Dad, the nurse says you have to wear the mitts because you keep pulling things out--”

“‘Cause they weren’t letting me see you.”

“If I take them off, will you promise not to tug on anything?” He would probably get in massive trouble for this but it wasn’t like they could do more than kick him out of the hospital. Surely so long as they put them back on after it would be fine.

“I won’t so long as you stay here.” Bucky held out his restrained hands, wanting the offending things off.

With one last glance over his shoulder, Peter undoes the velcro on one hand but left the other in it’s mitt, thinking it was easier to justify one “slipping” off than both of his hands free.

Without sparing a second, the free hand roams through his curls, trailing down the back of his neck, where they come to rest. Tangled their way through the soft baby hairs there, vulnerable and intimate. His dad props himself up on one arm, pulling Peter’s neck carefully down towards him while rising to meet him. Seeing that a kiss was coming, Peter turned his cheek, offering his dad easy access to the spot. His dad missed the mark, pressing at the underside of his jaw and holding for two shuddering heartbeats.

When he pulled back, Peter was surprised to find disappointment in his dad’s features. Lip set in a displeased line and eyes turned in a disgruntled tilt. Maybe he was just upset that he missed..? Peter gave a kiss as well, hoping it would erase that upset look. His own placed on his dad’s nose, slightly playful in an attempt to get a smile.

It worked, Bucky’s face melted into a grin as he pulled Peter all the way down, tucking his boy’s face into his shoulder. Awkwardly bent in half, Peter is forced to shimmy his lower half onto the bed and makes an undignified squeak when his dad slips a few fingers through his belt loops and uses them as leverage to help him onto the bed. His dad’s soft chuckle in response left a shadow of embarrassment but the sweet sound melted him. He needed this, to be close after feeling like the world stood between them before, ready to take the only man who cared about him away. The heavy rise and fall of his dad’s much larger chest reminding him that he was alive, that they both were.

“...Daddy?”

“Yes, baby?”

“You’re not allowed to ride the bike anymore.”

The rumbling, loud laughter made the bossy statement into something concerned and gentle. He wasn’t being laughed at but instead humored. “I promise, no more bike. Don’t think I could in this state anyway. “

His forehead scratched across the short sleeve of the hospital gown as he hid from the light. Surrounded by darkness and the smell of his daddy, he was at peace for the moment. There was a small shift and Peter heard something fall on the floor. Just about to ask what that had been, he feels both hands, now free, run down his sides. He jumped when they slipped under his shirt, stroking at the skin around his slight love handles. About to ask what he was doing, they’re interrupted by a knock.

Peter jumped up, hands fell away as his dad grabbed one of the mitts and stuck it back on. Peter goes to peak behind the curtain and see who was asking to enter.

A doctor, all clean pressed with his white lab coat. Some voice in the back of his head piped up, recalling how deceiving the coat was in it’s clean exterior since lab coats are hardly washed as much as they should be and become vectors for illnesses. He is considering if letting such a thing near his dad is something he’s going to allow when he is reminded of his place. The doctor carefully pushed past him, Peter ignored like a small child, seen and not heard. He wants to fume but the need to play nice won out. He just needed to stamp down the territorial urges a bit better.

His dad managed to get one mitt back on but the other one was sitting loosely on his hand. He hid it from the doctor, tucking his hands in his lap to hide the strap. The scene threw him. With the way his dad had been acting he thought he was completely out of it, but that split second scene suggested his dad was still able to rationalize and know well enough to hide the mitt situation. Maybe he imagined it? Things were definitely a little off, just something about the energy around his dad was different. It could be that some parts of his brain were affected and not others.

Lost in his musings about the two-second detail, he missed what the doctor was saying. At the tailend he tuned in, catching the doctor saying something about physical and occupational therapy and his eventual home release.

“--Once we get your walking coordination back in tune you should be good to go. You’ve displayed some ability already according to the nurse when she’s helped you to the komode, which is excellent. We’ll likely be able to send you home in the next few weeks if things go as I am hoping.”

Peter hoped the doctor was right, or maybe wrong and that his dad would be coming home earlier than expected. The last few days alone in their apartment had been painfully quiet. Uncle Steve had been swinging by to help feed him and check in but he’d been unable to hold much of a conversation with him when they were both swimming with anxiety. Unsurprisingly, his mom still had not called to check in, thank god she flaked on her two weeks with him or he may not have been allowed to go back to the apartment he and his dad shared.

“Sounds good, Doctor. Anything I can do to help speed it along? I have things to do at home.” His dad shot him a look and Peter had no clue what it was supposed to mean. He felt like there was a hidden meaning there he wasn’t quite catching but was being expected to know.

“Patience is key, Mr. Barnes. If you push too hard, too fast you might backslide in progress. Just do as the physical therapist advises and they should be able to help you get back on your feet in a timely manner.” The doctor then proceeded to prattle off a few more things before a nurse came in with medications. He didn’t get a chance to spend more time with his dad as his phone pinged, Steve was there to come get him. He had school in the morning. Part of him wanted to blow it off, just spend the night by his dad’s side but Steve wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer on this one. Dodging the nurse, Peter pressed a quick kiss to his dad’s cheek and a hasty goodbye before he was shooed off. He left, looking back over his shoulder like he expected his dad to somehow be following.

_______

When he got the news that his daddy was going to be coming home, Peter flew into a near frenzy. He scrubbed the whole apartment three times and had reorganized his closet twice in just four days. Climbing up the walls, he was impatient and wanted his dad home now. The apartment had been too quiet for too long. Nothing ever moved unless Peter moved it and it was jarring to find things where he’d left them. He never realized how often things shifted in a shared space till they stopped. He hated it, wanted nothing more than to go back to normal, whatever their new normal ended up being.

Steve brought Bucky home Friday night, nearly a month after the accident. The father and son duo had hardly seen each other in that time, visits rarely lining up and the nurses deciding that his dad was always too worked up after seeing his son. Peter practically threw himself into his daddy’s arms, burying his face firmly in the solid wall of the other man’s chest. Thankfully, he was small enough that he hadn’t knocked Bucky off his feet. He seemed to still be getting his footing and walked in a slightly stilted manner that made Peter just the tiniest bit upset to see.

They all had dinner before Steve left, having things that needed to be done and trusting Peter to keep Bucky out of trouble. Nothing of much note happened that first night, Bucky too tired to do more than change clothes and land face down in bed. Peter left him to it, not wanting to bother his clearly exhausted father.

The morning, well, that is when things began their strange descent.

Peter was brushing his teeth, staring into the mirror with the expression unique to those who had stayed up just a little later than intended. Leaning down to spit into the running water of the sink and rinse his mouth, Peter jumped when something pressed against him. Spinning and nearly taking his hip out on the counter, he relaxes when blue eyes stare back at him.

“You scared me.” Peter, in his relief, didn’t catch the odd look that passed through Bucky’s eyes as he looked down on his son.

“You weren’t in bed, I heard the water running and thought I would check on you.” A large hand reached out, cupping Peter’s face.

Confused but not about to question the affection, Peter tips his face into the palm of his dad’s hand. “Did you need anything?”

“No, I just wasn’t sure where you had gone. You weren’t in bed with me when I went asleep, I thought you would be there by the time I woke up.” His thumb slid over the delicate skin of his lower eyelid, a light, affectionate gesture.

Only more puzzled by the statement, Peter lifts his head, not realizing he’d done it until he notices the hand following as though glued to his skin. “Why did you think that?”

It was Bucky’s turn to look confused. “Don’t you always sleep with me?”

Peter shook his head. “No, not in a long time. Sometimes I come and sit on the bed with you in the morning but I don’t normally sleep there.” His dad must really be messed up if he was expecting Peter to do something he hadn’t since he was eight.

“Did I do something wrong? Why don’t you sleep in our bed anymore?” Fingers flexing against Peter’s scalp.

Our bed? “No, no, I’m just not supposed too. It’s not normal for a teenager to sleep in the same bed as his dad.” This really was not the conversation he was expecting to have to have today.

“Says who? Peter, you’re always welcome in bed. I want you there, it lets me know you’re safe if you're near.”

Oh, that makes a little more sense at least. Maybe his dad was just nervous after the accident, wanted the security of having him near after all he’s been through. Admittedly, the thought of staying in the same room was appealing, he’d been jumpy ever since his dad had been in the hospital. Daddy wasn’t there to scare away the shadows that haunted their apartment, something he did just by being and hadn’t been obvious until he was no longer there.

“Would it make you feel better if I was in bed with you tonight?”

The beaming smile he got in response was so sweet, so heartfelt, that Peter felt himself smiling back. “Always, sweetheart.”

“Then tonight I’ll do it.” With the matter settled, Peter slipped out of his dad’s grasp and the bathroom. He heard the shuffling behind him that signaled he was being trailed. He plopped on the couch in the living room, flipping on the TV for some background noise.

Bucky settled in beside him, close enough their thighs are sealed together. Peter leaned over, tipped his head against one broad shoulder, sighed. An arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him in tight.

“Missed you, lovebug.”

Peter nuzzled his shoulder, smiling at the childhood nickname. “Missed you too, Daddy.” Teased just a little, lifting into a sweeter tone for the title.

They relaxed, a soothing hand running over his ribs. Up and down, up and down. He lost focus on the show quickly, closed his eyes and soaked up the gentle affection. The petting turns into a circular motion, one that slipped under the back of his shirt and over his skin. Daddy flipped back and forth between the two, always a warm hand trailing under his shirt. It made him sleepy, cravied a mid-morning nap as a result. He yawned and was rewarded with a crown of kisses across his forehead.

“Sleepy baby.” A honey tinged chuckle that made Peter soft and squishy. “Wanna go to bed, honey? Let Daddy take care of you for a little bit?”

Peter nodded, let himself be manhandled into strong arms, forgot to be concerned about his dad’s ability to do this when he felt so safe in his arms. Hadn’t been carried like this since he was small, loved the attention as he got a wet kiss on the cheek and was squished into the much broader body. Couldn’t resist giggling before he relaxed back.

The walk was short, a hand cupped his rear as the door was closed and the covers pulled back. He’d kept his eyes closed, lulling through the early stages of sleep. Still, the cool darkness of the room was pleasant behind his eyelids. He was set down amongst the covers, held close as Daddy slid up beside him. He was cradled, the back of his head cupped and used to press him gently into the crook of his dad’s neck. The other wrapped around his lower back. Peter was too far gone to do anything but doze off, warm and content.

_____

Peter woke up as his legs were folded into his chest, something hot and blunt pressed against his hole, startling him onto alert. He thrashed, trying to rip his legs away from whatever was restraining them so he could flee. His reward was the weight of a body pressing down against his calves, his feet stuck uncomfortably against a washboard stomach as his thighs are pressed into his chest He’s folded in half and had no time to think as he’s suddenly opened up on the head of a cock.

Terrified, he cried out in pain as someone sheathed themself inside him, pain slowly working it’s way up his spine as he was stretched. Forced to take and take and take what feels like an unending length, too thick for his small body to accommodate.

“S-stop. Stop!” Tears start to come, it hurts, it hurts and he can’t get away from it.

“Shh… It’s okay. You’re okay, baby. It’s just Daddy.” The rumbling tenor stops Peter dead in his tracks.

He actually focused, looked to see what was going on rather than run on blind panic. A sob ripped through him as his dad stared down at him. It must be a dream, a nightmare.

“You’re doing so well, lovebug. I know it’s been a long time since Daddy’s been in here, just relax.”

Peter nearly jumped out of his skin when a thumb ran across his rim, swiping over the place where their bodies connected. Treated as if it were normal, like they were two lovers in the midst of a reunion and not a father recovering from a brain injury and his confused son.

“Love this pussy, always so sweet for me. Yeah, there it is, let Daddy in sweetness.”

Peter blushed an angry tomato red. His dad was talking to his asshole while he sank his cock inside of him like this was something they’d done before and not sending Peter headlong into a panic attack.

Trying to suck down air as the panic in his body rose, he pushed against the wall of steel before him. “No, no, nonono, take it out! Take it out!!” The answering roll of hips made his back arch of the bed. Too much, it was too much.

“There’s my boy.” The slide of cock leaving his body was a relief until it rocked back in. The thrusts reached deeper inside of him than he thought possible. “Just need something to fill you up and make you feel good to get you settled down. So pretty, Peter. You’re a dream, baby doll.”

The thrusts start slow and pick up pace at the same rate the pain subsides to the pleasure of being filled. The fight left him as the sweet little spot inside his hole is battered and ground against with every slide. Peter doesn’t register his moans, sounding far away and not a part of him. He does register the squeal, the high pitched whine as his neck is assaulted with tooth and tongue. Flushed at the loud, wet slapping of his Daddy’s balls as they bounced off his rear. Now brought to his attention, it made him jump each time they hit the mark.

“This pussy hasn’t been fed in so long, has it sweetheart? Just waiting for Daddy to come home so it can swallow up the cock it needs. Cum hungry little cunt, all for me, ain’t that right?”

None of it made sense, nothing like this had happened before. Later, Peter would put the dots together, would see the little things that point to what was going on in his dad’s head. Would all fall into place when Daddy gets mad about him shying away and asks him why he’s rejecting him when Peter is his and has been for so long. Something got knocked loose, butchered some memories until this became something he could only imagine Peter wanting. But that was later, outside this moment. A time away from this second where Peter was moaning like a bitch in heat as his dad made him feel, took his first cock and got to enjoy the skill that comes with someone so much older.

The last few thrusts are violent, made him yip as hips slammed down onto his ass and turned the skin red. The rush of cum made his body shake, not knowing what to do as he’s filled.

“Cream-filled, just how I like this little hole. Soppy and wet just like a real pussy, huh baby? Think Daddy can have his pie and eat it too?”

The words meant nothing, all Peter could do was shake his head, hoped it would get him out of this. He ached both in his ass and his locked joints. Just end, please, that’s all he wanted.

But it doesn’t.

Bucky slides out, slowly, dragging it out so that Peter has to feel every vein on it’s way out the door. He sighs, relieved as the pressure on his legs is let up. He goes to lower them, stretch out and hopefully roll away but they’re grabbed and suddenly he’s flat on his belly, his cock making itself known as it slides over the sticky sheets. His back cold as the sweat is exposed to the cool air. A pitiful, displeased noise fell from his lips as a face forced itself between his thighs. A tongue, scorching hot, lapped at the cum seeping from his gaping pussy. His poor battered cunt loosened into a pouting mouth as a searching tongue makes out with it, wet and messy.

He can’t help it as his hips tip forward, seeking out release as his cocklet stands red and angry. It hurts and the sheets glide over it in a way that makes the ache settle and that same tingly feeling from earlier skitter it’s way up to the base of his skull. Hands come up to his hips, guiding as their master eats out his hole like he doesn’t need air to live. It brings him to the edge, paints his belly white with shame as the orgasm wracks his body.

Collapsed on the sheets, Peter curled up. Too much, too much. His brain shut down, taking him to a place that’s fuzzier, not yet forcing him to process what has just happened. It’s why he doesn’t fight as a hand and tongue coax his jaw open, why he only shudders and obediently swallows as cum is smeared and drooled into his mouth.

“Seems you’re just as hungry for cum as your hole.” It’s said like a joke, like it’s meant to be teasing.

Peter just wrapped his arms around his head and prayed for sleep.

[asianfighter]

Sooo I found another Lucci fan girl on Insta and subsequently remembered an AU I started. The premise is my OC, Tahlia, is the daughter of the man who runs the largest security firm in the world. Needless to say, threats are ever present and she goes through body guards like nothing. Enter the man who clawed his way up to the top of the chain.

This is a brain chills I’ve neglected but I will have to get back to soon. Read at your own discretion. It’s not blatantly explicit but it is definitely suggestive and borderline NSFW. If you’re not 18, keep scrolling. If you’re of age and you like Lucci, well, I hope you enjoy.

MORE THAN HUMAN TEASER: THE FIRST NIGHT

Rob Lucci’s footsteps were quiet, even on the antique wooden planks. Just as he had been commanded, he showered and even changed into a fresh suit. Roman Espinosa always expected his guards to be well dressed; he could only assume his daughter had similar expectations. Lucci could hear the faint sound of music seeping through the walls, sliding beneath the crack below the double doors. He gave a light knock.

“Come in,” Tahlia said from the other side. He turned the handle and slipped through, making sure to close the door just as silently as he had entered. She was freshly showered as well. Her straight hair was still slightly damp and she was dressed in a silky little gown, all black, with a low neckline and lots of lace.

“Hello, Lucci,” she said with a smile. “Lock the door, will you?”

He did as he was told and walked towards the table and chairs in the center of the room. Tahlia fussed with her phone and turned up the music, low quality hip hop beats accompanying an instrumental melody. Occasionally, audio bits of a female singing in French were thrown into the mix.

“Have a seat,” Tahlia told him. Lucci unbuttoned his blazer, this one black, and sat on one of the couches. In front of him, there was a small serving tray with a curvy glass of red wine and a straight little glass that held whiskey on the rocks.

Instead of sitting on the couch across from him, Tilly sat on the wooden table directly in front of him and crossed her legs. She handed him the whiskey before scooping up the glass of dark red liquid.

“Did you like my performance?” Tahlia asked with a smirk. “I know you heard most of it.” She took a slow sip, eyeing Lucci the entire time as if she could unnerve him. He didn’t blink. “Seems like I’m still stuck with you for now… but Daddy’s convinced all it will take to make me happy is a brand new building or two. For how sharp he is in business, he can be a very easy man to deceive.”

Lucci gave her an emotionless gaze and took a sip of the cool whiskey.

“He’s talked a lot about you,” she said, staring at him. “Nice to finally put a name to face.” Lucci withheld a comment about how incessantly Roman talked about her.

“The first time I had ever heard your name,” Tilly told him, “I was 10 years old. Daddy flew in just for my birthday party…” She looked down at her glass of wine. “...and all he could talk about was how successful Rob Lucci’s first field mission went.”

An amused smile played across her face. “I honestly thought you’d be older, considering your history. You’re only three years older than I am… but I suppose that’s why you were such a success. A killing machine at the age of 13. Quite a feat.”

Rob Lucci watched her face and slowly sipped on his drink. “Did you know they call you ‘Massacre Weapon’? Quite a heavy moniker, if you ask me.” Tahlia’s eyes turned downward as she sipped on her own drink. “From simple soldier to my sole security guard,” Tahlia said. “It’s quite a leap.”

Tahlia smiled coyly. The man simply gave her the same, stoic look during her monologue.

“To your promotion,” she said, “and new beginnings in a new city.” Tahlia held her drink up. They clinked glasses together. “By the way, you look dashing in white. I liked that suit much better than the black.”

Lucci nodded, taking a mental note, then took another sip as Tahlia sat back and swished her drink with one hand. He knew others found his gaze was unsettling… but there was something slightly unsettling about hers, too.

“Since you insist on playing silent, I’ll do the talking,” Tahlia said. She took a sip of wine, her lips slightly tinted red. I have big plans, Lucci. Big plans. The only thing is… I need someone I can trust… and some serious muscle to help see them through. If my intuition is correct, you might be able to wear both of those hats well.”

Lucci tilted his head to the side ever so slightly, silently prompting her to tell him more. He was slightly curious to know what her “big plans” entailed.

“I’m not a slave driver; I won’t force you to work for me. But if you do decide to stay, I will have plenty of opportunities for you to paint the town red. I think we could have a very mutually beneficial relationship. All I need you to do is what you do best. You get to have a little fun and I get… well, whatever I want.”

A dangerous look flashed in his eyes at the promise of “painting the town red.”

“Until now I’ve been given regular men. Lackluster soldiers with lackluster skills… but you’re different, I can tell.” She looked him over slowly, like she was trying to find the secret that made him special. “You are the last piece to my puzzle,” Tahlia told him. ”With you by my side, I will have everything I need. Together, we could sit back and watch the world burn. So what do you say?”

Very slowly, Rob Lucci gave the smallest of smirks, one corner of his mouth twisting upwards ever so slightly. His eyes were focused on hers, and try as she might to read his expression, Tahlia couldn’t quite decrypt what was running through his mind. She leaned forward and, with one finger, beckoned him to do the same.

“I know you can speak,” she said in his ear. “And I actually want to hear you say it. Are you in… or not?”

When he spoke, his voice was deep. Dangerous. Just as she had with him, he leaned in and spoke in her ear. This was her father’s house, after all. They could never be too cautious. Though there was no one else currently listening, he spoke in a low voice so that only Tahlia could hear him say, “I’m in.”

“Good. I was hoping you’d say that…” She gently placed her glass of wine back down. Tahlia leaned back on one arm and said, “...because I have a little test for you.”

Lucci placed down his own glass, mirrored her posture and leaned back as well. He rested one hand on the back rest of the couch.

“How far are you willing to go to prove your loyalty?” Tahlia asked him. Lucci’s brows pulled further down. Even rookies knew there was only one way out of Espinosa Inc. and it didn’t involve a 401k.

“I wonder,” Tahlia mused aloud, leaning forward and intruding upon his personal space, “if your loyalties lie with my father… or if they lie with me.” She searched his eyes but found no answer there. “I suppose it’s all the same,” she said quietly, “for now.”

She grinned and gave him an uneven smile that looked especially dangerous in the low lighting.

“Let’s see how well they trained you to listen,” Tahlia said. There was a dark mischief to her. Lucci simply looked back, stone faced. What could she possibly do to him that men hadn’t already done before? He had been shot, stabbed, beaten, burned… the more annoying methods of “pain resistance training” had included drowning simulations and extended immersion. Despite the large burns on his back, he much would have chosen fire over water torture any day.

Roman constantly bragged about how his girl was such a talented artist. Would she use one of the traditional methods or come up with something a little more creative?

In answer to his question, Tahlia leaned forward and slid onto the couch, her legs straddling Lucci’s waist. He leaned backwards at the sudden contact, the soft seat of the couch pushing against him. Tahlia placed her cheek against his and whispered, “I want you to sleep with me tonight.” Lucci’s posture stiffened as Tahlia loosened his tie and began to unbutton his shirt from the top down. “They didn’t cut out your tongue, after all. I’ll make sure it goes to good use.”

She used her left hand to continue unbuttoning while her right brushed against his face. She liked feeling the smooth of his cheek and the rough of his sideburns, his tidy beard. She could smell his mouth watering cologne. He had an ever present steel gaze that quietly drove her crazy. Tahlia leaned in to kiss him, and though his lips moved in sync with hers, he still had the same, cold expression when he opened up his eyes.

“They say you can’t feel pain…” Tahlia said, more to herself than him. His eyes were deep and dark, so brown that they looked completely black. They were eyes that held countless unspoken secrets. She pulled him towards her, slid her hands beneath his polo, helped slide his shirt and blazer off. Tilly squeezed his biceps (deliciously tattooed, she noticed, with a modern, minimal design on his shoulders) and massaged his strong forearms. She could hear him take a slow, steady inhale and a long, drawn out exhale.

Tahlia’s hands trailed down his arms and she placed both of his hands on her breasts. She pressed her hips into his and made slow, grinding movements. She could feel the bulge in his pants hardening. Tahlia moaned and nipped his ear. Lucci’s dark eyes flashed a dirty gold for just a fraction of a second but it went unnoticed. Tilly’s voice was a low, seductive purr as she said, “Let’s see if you still feel pleasure.”

—

Well if you like it, let me know! I have some scenes written that I’d love to share if there’s any interest!

[ultracolethaalbert-blog]

A Woman Is A Sometime Thing George Gershwin Lissen to yo` daddy warn you, `Fore you start a-travelling, Woman may born you, love you and mourn you, But a woman is a sometime thing, Yes, a woman is a sometime thing. Oh, a woman is a sometime thing. Yo` mammy is the first to name you, Then she`ll tie you to her apron string, Then she`ll shame you and she`ll blame you Till yo` woman comes to claim you, `Cause a woman is a sometime thing, Yes, a woman is a sometime thing. Oh, a woman is a sometime thing. Don`t you never let a woman grieve you Just 'cause she got yo` weddin` ring. She`ll love you and deceive you, Take yo` clothes and leave you `Cause a woman is a sometime thing. Yes, a woman is a sometime thing. Yes, a woman is a sometime thing, Yes, a woman is a sometime thing. Written by Dorothy Heyward, Du Bose Heyward, George Gershwin, Ira Gershwin • Copyright © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc #Gershwin #Porgy #Bess #Woman

[krystynasierbien]

A Few Notes on the Rupert Murdoch.

“For privacy to be widespread it must be part of a social contract. People must come and together deploy these systems for the common good. Privacy only extends so far as the cooperation of one’s fellows in society. We the Cypherpunks seek your questions and your concerns and hope we may engage you so that we do not deceive ourselves. We will not, however, be moved out of our course because some may disagree with our goals. The Cypherpunks are actively engaged in making the networks safer for privacy. Let us proceed together apace.” — — Eric Hughes, 1993.

It was in 1993, during a speech in London, when a triumphant 67 year old Rupert Murdoch announced to his audience of adoring fin slappers that “advances in the technology of communications have proved an unambiguous threat to totalitarian regimes: Fax machines enable dissidents to bypass state-controlled print media; direct-dial telephone makes it difficult for a state to control interpersonal voice communication; and satellite broadcasting makes it possible for information-hungry residents of many closed societies to bypass state-controlled television channels.”

Three months prior to that ‘historic’ address, Murdoch’s 21st Century Fox Group would acquire the ailing Hong Kong based satellite television station StarTV for a ‘cool’ $525 million. Implied, and not particularly subtly so, in his speech at the company black-tie event in Whitehall then, was that Team Murdoch would surely abet the liberation of the hearts and the minds of millions of China’s citizens; yearning for the freedom, the pleasure, to watch television in defiance of a government that had only just very recently decided to welcome the Murdoch empire’s business.

As the story goes, like the foolhardy tourist who attempts to scale Pico de Orizaba wearing flip flops and a sombrero foam-dome, the multi-billionaire it seems presumed that he’d be able to ingratiate himself in China with relative ease, because this had proven to be the case for him in the UK, and that he could therefore antagonise China’s ruling party officials without fear of any meaningful attempts at reprisal. But their retaliation — which was very real, apparently — would set the tone and with that also many of the rules for the complicated working relationship that would protractedly unravel over the ensuing decade or so; in near-perfect Hausdorffian sync with his likewise unravelling marriage, Murdoch’s third, to Jinan-province born translator Wendi Deng.

China’s censors and state broadcasters were suitably enraged, suitably publicly enraged, by Murdoch’s speech; and this was only exacerbated when BBC World Service, which at the time featured on the StarTV broadcast schedule, aired an hour long special report about the bloody government crackdown on Tiananmen Square in June of 1989, as CNN’s livefeed rolled, followed by a tell-all documentary exploring amongst many, many other controversies, Mao Sedoung’s numerous alleged sexual prolictivities. The reports were broadcast via StarTV’s revolutionary transponders to what at that time remained only a miniscule proportion of China’s citizens on the mainland and yet the Prime Minister of the day, Li Peng, would issue an attempt at a blanket ban on the “distribution, installation and use of commercial satellite reception dishes” in response. Then following various threats to Murdoch’s bottom line, BBC World Service was dropped from the Star TV lineup altogether. Instead of scrambling the signal in China — doing so was in 1993 already technologically feasible of course — so that StarTV could therefore continue to broadcast BBC World across its other signal jurisdictions in Asia, the media baron submitted to Beijing’s unnecessarily stringent demands, with admittedly very little ground left for him to stand upon. And so, fewer than six dreary earth months after its launch, BBC World Service was purged from the StarTV schedule, then quietly supplanted with a Mandarin language channel.

Murdoch would brush off the offending remarks that he made that day in an interview with Forbes a year later as merely “a few standard cliches.” Allegedly he was dumbfounded that what was essentially a corporate pep-talk had been met with such overreaction from China’s evidently worryingly paranoid ruling elite. Nevertheless, at the 11th annual John Bonython Lecture in Melbourne later in 1994 the multibillionaire would put it to his audience that author and former BBC broadcaster George Orwell had underestimated the emancipatory power of technology, and that its progress since Orwell’s passing rendered all but impossible the dystopic future the author lays out for readers in 1984. On stage, Murdoch’s was a positive view, about how the ensuing “Century of Networking” would not only transform social, political and economic life for the better. It would also be incoercible to totalitarian power structures. That state or indeed even corporate power could potentially direct the technology, and then with that, the information flows too, was unfathomable somehow; presumably because it didn’t complement the yarn he was spinning that particular evening.

 Sixteen years after the Bonython lecture, in an op-ed for the News Corp owned broadsheet The Australian in December 2010, Julian Assange would, under unknown levels of duress, praise Murdoch and his daddy for their transformative contributions to journalism; situating Murdoch Inc.’s tech-driven modus operandi broadly with his own: “The British tried to shut him up but Keith Murdoch would not be silenced and his efforts led to the termination of the disastrous Gallipoli campaign. Nearly a century later, WikiLeaks is also fearlessly publishing facts that need to be made public…WikiLeaks was created around these core values. The idea, conceived in Australia, was to use internet technologies in new ways to report the truth…We are the underdogs.”

For all of the fleeting or abiding admiration that Murdoch’s words may have invoked at the time, within days of the Bonython lecture the multibillionaire was to be found in Kuala Lumpur schmoozing with Malaysia’s leaders, offering to them the very same block signal technology that Li Peng had forbidden Murdoch from utilising to save BBC World Service a year earlier. A media off-switch. One designed specifically to pacify an authoritarian regime’s prerequisites.

But when Murdoch said that “satellite broadcasting makes it possible for information-hungry residents of many closed societies to bypass state-controlled television channels” he wasn’t actually wrong. Because what is true, and always will be when something is in demand and then abruptly outlawed is, to play on Jeff Goldblum in the first Jurassic Park film: Crime, it finds a way.

A satellite piracy ring would envelop in China soon after the ban, and then naturally some — but not all, and perhaps not even most of the actors involved were actually government officials operating through their localised ‘satellites’: Police and willing civilians to obfuscate the earthly crimes, and then cyber security specialists to obfuscate the one or indeed the many in ‘cyberspace’. Over time  the web has streamlined the dissemination of pirated software and goods to global mass markets and so as per the convenient rationalisation of state and major corporate security enforcement teams, the monetised codebreaker, the criminalised hacker necessitated deployment of geared-up intelligence agencies, specialist police units and private security firms to monitor and ideally to co-opt as many of them as possible. Combating piracy thus quickly became a, if not the, Ministry of State Security’s focal strategy to justify the expansion of its cybersecurity internet mainframe; so too its army of online agents.

Privately sanctioned personnel, including those working within the security divisions of cybersecurity services like Murdoch’s now former business venture NDS Group-StarTV’s conditional access encryption provider-would often simultaneously engage in technically criminal activity and prevention. Working with the ruling jurisdiction’s security divisions at points, and against them at others. Because if you hadn’t yet noticed, it’s all different but the same. China’s piracy quotient, according to the Software Publishers 68 Association report presuming that it accurately reflects anything, ranges between 77% and 96%. The country regularly tops the list of the world’s largest piracy economies. But why is piracy sooooooo consistently pervasive there? The People’s Police, Ministry of State Security and the People’s Armed Police Force, one of the world’s most militarised police forces, roughly on par with the US, have combined been seemingly powerless against the piracy economy burgeoning to the extent that it has done in China. Which surely means piracy is unofficial policy; perhaps even that a lot of people are not great at their jobs.

NDS Group employed a number of former state intelligence officers: Reuvan Hasak, a former Deputy Chief of Shin Bet, for example, and then former Kroll investigator and Metropolitan Police Chief Ray Adams — who at one point had been in charge of the scandal-stricken investigation into the murder of British teenager Stephan Lawrence because as it turned out he was friends with one of the suspect’s fathers — was appointed head of NDS Europe by Rupert Murdoch personally in 1996. The impact these appointments would have on the culture at NDS and the Pay TV industry more broadly cannot be overstated. Nor should Murdoch’s specific intention, or at least his tacit acceptance, alongside other powerful people, some more powerful than him, granted, that was going to be the case.

But then it was a telecommunications arms race from the very beginning, really. In 1988, Turing Award winning cryptologist Adi Shamir, creator of the ‘Shamir’s Secret Sharing’ algorithm (a man who, according to a few quite possibly unreliable online sources is now also a billionaire because of this) approached Murdoch with a blueprint to build a conditional access system for his new Sky television venture. Shamir’s blueprint became the NDS “smart code” cards. Microchips on the smart-cards were programmed with layers of algorithms that functioned as sleepless electronic gatekeepers so that only paying StarTV customers were able to unlock the signal with the key code issued to them upon purchase. It’s the same principle as a bank-card and corresponding pincode and it was similarly penetrable with sufficient time, skill and resources. An industry was born…

Beneath the academic veneer lent by some of the world’s most revered cryptologists, the NDS investigations team were deployed to monitor people of interest; for intelligence gathering, dissemination. And to infiltrate and on occasion entrap pirate community message-board members. Skilled lone-wolf hackers, lured by the prospect of high renumeration and their own intellectual curiosity were recruited to reverse engineer smartcards. To exploit technical weaknesses in rival models on behalf of NDS or alternatively to become sources within online technical discussion communities. Some were even recruited for their credulity to then be used as pawns.

With all this in mind, it is unsurprising that the reality of Murdoch’s dealings in the world’s most populated country were a far cry from the sentiments he expressed first in London in 1993 and  again in Melbourne in 1994. Not only did Murdoch lend his services to the country’s Communist Youth League, a lynchpin of the ruling party which serves to identify and assimilate would-be dissidents with the party-line while they’re young for a “risky television venture” but, on the testimony of a number of  former Dow employees Murdoch had also regularly worked closely with China’s state broadcasters in exchange for the go-ahead to circumvent regulatory interference and achieve specific entrepreneurial goals. So before long, it became obvious that Murdoch’s aggressive, no holds barred #brand of journalism would actually not be pushed on the new frontier — because he couldn’t. Media regulations would also continue to tighten over the years. So much so that in 2005, Murdoch would decide to incrementally divest from the country.

His dalliance with it would herald his third marriage, to translator and StarTV company executive Deng, who he first met in the US in 1997. Then somewhat ironically perhaps it would formally end just a few weeks after finalising his divorce from the Yale MBA graduate and mother to his two youngest in 2013, when 21st Century Fox Group sold off its remaining 47% stake in StarTV.

Ain’t love grand.

[redran6er]

Hans has arrived at the Met Gala