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blackownersseekingsuccess · 6 months ago

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Exploring the Intersection of Ethnography, Anthropology, and Black Literature: An Interview with Dr. David Orenstein

written by Levi Wise Kenneth Catoe Jr.

June 17, 2024 - The theme of the 17th National Black Writers Conference was All That We Carry: Where Do We Go From Here? A writers conference that took place from March 20 - 23, 2024 at Medgar Evers College in Brooklyn, NY. During the conference, conversations centered on the question of unpacking the history of the African Diaspora through slave narratives, the griot, and Black writer's texts and the use of archaeological research to chronicle the history of America from the perspective of what Toni Morrison calls a “Black gaze.” Black writers, including Zora Neale Hurston, have often

studied the field of anthropology in order to create context for their narratives. I sat down with Dr. David Orenstein, who is an anthropologist and former provost (formally dean of academic affairs) at Warren County Community College, as well as an author and professor at Medgar Evers College since 2013.

Dr. Orenstein is the co-author of two books, the 2015 Godless Grace: How Non-Believers are Making the World Safer Richer and Kinder, and the November 2019 publication of Darwin’s Apostles: The Men Who Fought to Have Evolution Accepted, Their Times, and How the Battle Continues. A primatologist by early training, he has written for numerous national and international freethinker and science publications.

Dr. Orenstein is also a noted civil and human rights activist and a sought-after speaker on human rights, science education, and evolution acceptance. I chose to speak with Dr. Orenstein after attending the 17th National Black Writers Conference to get a deeper understanding of Anthropology and how it can benefit an author/ writer's writing process.

Levi W. K. Catoe Jr.: Hi Dr. David Orenstein, thank you for sitting and talking to me and our readers. I wanted to begin this conversation by discussing anthropology. Can you explain to the readers of Musings exactly what Anthropology is, in case they are unaware?

Dr. David Orenstein: Of course and first, I want to thank you for offering me this opportunity to talk with you and through you, speak to your readers. It is humbling. The formal and basic definition of anthropology is essentially the study of human beings. Here at the college though, I think we need to look at it more deeply. So for me and the other anthropology faculty, we’re more interested in answering the question, “what makes us human” and that takes place by having the most holistic and open worldview of humanity, from culture to biology, to past and present civilizations, to how we treat one another, how we interact with the planet and how, as activists, we can see the underlying reality that there is much MORE that binds us together than pulls us apart.

LWC: During the 17th National Black Writers Conference there was a roundtable discussion regarding “Black Writers’ Letters To America,” which centered on forms such as archival slave narratives, oral histories, the Griot, and the history of America from the perspective of what Toni Morrison calls a Black gaze. How can ethnography be used to uncover Black histories in America in this day and age, as we are witnessing DEI, Critical Race Theory, and “Woke” agendas under attack, and in many cases young uninformed African Americans who say they are tired of hearing about slavery? How can writers use this research in fiction telling to inspire young readers to reconsider this Black gaze through ethnography?

D.O.: I think that all cultural stories are powerful. History of our past, collectively and within ethnic groups is not just about what happened years ago. They are often cautionary tales about loss, survival, justice, power, and perseverance. Their importance to family and community is clear. So, it’s as much about how you capture, share, and acknowledge, and that last part is not monolithic. There will always be people who will discard or not care about the past. The important thing is for us to show its value to the other two-thirds of people who will listen and will wish to carry it forward. In this way, literature and anthropology are very much linked. It’s about carrying forward our ancestors and their experience while at the same time not living in the past, but also creating our own truths and lived experiences.

LWC: If someone were interested in the field of Anthropology what would their career options be as a trained anthropologist?

DO: Wow! That’s a great question. Anthropologists work everywhere! Many people think you have to be Indiana Jones or work as a stuffy academic, but in reality, a degree in anthropology opens doors to working in public service, healthcare, the media and entertainment, law and diplomacy, working for social and environmental justice, ensuring people’s cultural memories and artifacts are secured…really the list is endless. Plus, usually, anthropology graduates make between 60k-80k upon graduation.

LWC: Personally, as a writer, I was drawn to anthropology due to its ability to draw you into cultures. I was also drawn to how the field focuses on building observational skills that not only benefit writers but also actors. Can you explain what Ethnography, the fieldwork of Anthropology, is and how to go about obtaining this information in Anthropology?

DO: Sure, essentially ethnography is the study of human culture. We may think that when anthropologists are doing this type of work it’s done in some exotic place. But in reality, you can do ethnographic fieldwork anywhere humans gather. So that means studying how people act and react to one another, sometimes it’s about power relationships or gender, but it can also be looked at through other connections like ethnicity, language, and kinship. Then you look at rituals and see how people act within groups to verify their lifeways. It’s usually best to spend a great deal of time to get the best information, but it’s not fully necessary. Plus there are so many techniques, like indirect or direct observation, participatory research, and surveys, really there are so many tools in the anthropologist’s toolbox to gauge human interaction.

LWC: What are the various methods in Anthropology?

DO: Perhaps in cultural anthropology or ethnography, the two main methods are observation and interview. With observation, you try to look unbiasedly at how people interact within the context of culture, language, and geography. Interviews usually give you answers regarding self-perception. You see how the interviews and observations intersect, which gives you in real time a kind of “truth” regarding how people think, act, and produce culture. This also works in linguistic anthropology since language and culture exist to build on each other. You can’t have language without culture, and vice versa. In archaeology, you’re dealing with material artifacts created and left behind by current and past humans and their civilizations. It’s a fascinating area that helps tell the story of how humans for thousands of years created the simplest to the most complex technologies, which help tell the story of their civilization. In biological anthropology, you’re going deeper and further back into time, exploring our fossil past and the fossil and biological past of all species on the planet since life began. But this area also includes forensics, like the show “Bones,” and primate behavior, paleontology, hominid evolution, paleobotany, and so many other fields.

LWC: What anthropological methods would most benefit writers who are interested in following in the shoes of a writer like the Black Harlem Renaissance author Zora Neale Hurston?

DO: Great question and another example of an important writer who took her anthropological training to fulfill her intellectual interests. Zora Neale Hurston really used her worldview to help document and understand the African American experience in so many deep and consuming ways both through ethnography but also through fiction and other literature. She studied at Howard and Bernard and was a supporter of other black writers in the 1930s. Her work gave meaning and connection to the lives of Southern Blacks both pre- and post-slavery and well into the latter half of the 20th Century. It's hard to know if anthropology made Zora Neale Hurston or vice versa but the combination has given millions of her readers new life and understanding and isn’t that really what matters most?

LWC: Zora Neale Hurston's fieldwork became 100 pages of research in the 1931 Journal of American Folklore, under the title “Hoodoo in America, and her autoethnography Mules and Men, a book of Hurston's detailed, first-hand research, infused with her reflections. Are these good examples of viewing literature from the Black gaze in your opinion?

D.O.: Of course! Zora Neale Hurston’s ethnographic work as well as her other research is memorable on so many levels. In a way, it connects issues of identity to the way W.E.B. Du Bois contemplated double consciousness. So, scholars and activists across generations from various disciplines are coming to the research and issues that the Society of Black Anthropologists and the American Anthropological Association are STILL observing and gathering data to this day. It’s because culture doesn’t have an expiration date, although cultures can and do go extinct. Hurston’s work stimulates and ensures we remember and witness those who came before.

LWC: Zora Neale Hurston's role as an anthropologist is reflected in her work as a fiction writer through her incorporation of different cultures and societies, her exploration of Black American and Caribbean folklore, and her use of first-hand storytelling experience. Another example from the musical theater is “Westside Story” (1957), which began as “Eastside Story”, which chronicled the Lower East Side’s Jewish and Catholic Irish conflicts during the turn of the century NYC. Later, it became Westside Story, about the now-demolished San Juan Hill, a lost Black and Jazz community that was removed during the urban renewal in the 1950s, leading to creating historical erasure. The story shows how ethnology can be used to creatively re-envision and re-imagine lost communities through theater and writing. How do you feel about this process of using ethnography in the way in which Michael Bennett, for example, created the play “A Chorus Line” (1975) from audition slates?

D.O.: Great question and I’ll answer it as holistically as possible because that’s the way I see things as an anthropologist. I think anthropology is all about not only documenting the past and present to increase our knowledge, but it is very much about creating allies in the social sciences, physical sciences, and certainly in the fine and performing arts. It’s an “all in” effort to develop and maintain history and cultural meaning. When we do this, we create new entrepreneurial ways to connect to people, places, and ideas. We’re all so different, so some people might be turned off by an academic article, but get excited to read literature about a culture, or they may see a play or artwork, and it can change their lives. Just as there’s not one right way to be a “human” there’s no one right way to discover our human connections, which are many and so diverse. Even though some people would like us to think differently. A child’s story about growing up in the Caribbean is my story. An immigrant’s story about the hardships of leaving home is equally my story. Every person and community has value and worth. The challenge specifically in ethnography and cultural anthropology is to collect, share, and inspire others to see us as connected and one human family.

LWC: Can you explain some of your research and experiences in Anthropology? What cultures have you encountered, and what countries have you traveled to? How many years have you been in the field?

DO: I have been very fortunate in that my love of anthropology has connected me to many different people in places. My first book was an international ethnography, really an ethnology, looking at how people from across the globe work for social justice, human rights, and environmental justice as non-believers or atheists/agnostics in every country and continent. The idea is, can we be “good without god” and if so, who is attempting to heal the world not for the motivation of faith but non-faith. Certainly, there’s nothing wrong with helping others if your faith and spirituality ask that of you, but it was great research to see what motivates millions of people without faith to live with The Golden Rule. My actual research isn’t in ethnography, though. I study human evolution, paleontology, primate behavior, and science acceptance. So I’ve really been all over this planet doing research, presenting my findings, and working in these areas. For instance, this summer, I’m speaking in Helsinki and London, all on anthropology. I’ve also researched in Romania and other parts of Europe and spoken in Manilla, really it's a long list. In 2018, I was the faculty advisor and took MEC and CUNY students to Ecuador where we worked with indigenous peoples, and assisted in doing environmental research in the Amazon Rainforest and on the Galapagos Islands.

LWC: What inspired you to study Anthropology?

DO: Well, I’ll be honest. It was my father who took me to see Planet of the Apes in 1968 when I was a child of maybe six or seven. I was hooked on the idea of inter-species communication and that got me interested in studying the primates. Fast forward and when I was an undergraduate at CUNY, I spent time working with the Bronx Zoo gorillas, interning at the Brooklyn Museum, and also spent time in California meeting with Koko, the sign-language gorilla.

LWC: Of the many cultures that you have met, what custom, if any, inspired or changed your way of thinking in terms of traditions that you may have been accustomed to previously?

DO: Well, I tend not to be too accustomed to many traditions and really try to keep a holistic open mind, heart, and imagination when I meet all people. I’m an optimist by perception, so I come from a humanistic point of view seeing the good in all people, even if all people aren’t good to each other all the time.

I do see how the connections and rituals are connected to the past and I like to bring that out in class when we celebrate holidays like Valentine's Day, Christmas, or other secular and religious holidays.

LWC: New York is a large city, but a small place once you leave because many of its traditions and peculiarities are unlike anywhere else. Most places do not have a 24-hour rail system (subway), 24-hour stores, and multicultural neighborhoods. I had relatives who came to New York to visit and said they had never seen an open fire hydrant and had to take pictures; these are little things that New Yorkers take for granted. Did that affect your view as you entered into other community spaces outside of New York City?

DO: Well, I think the benefit of being born in a diverse city like New York really lays the groundwork for understanding other people. I was born in Brooklyn in the early 1960s and lived the first 12 years of my life in the Marlboro Houses, a housing project on 86th Street. So, I was kind of born into diversity and never left. My friends then, like now, really came from everywhere. I grew up believing and seeing the truth of Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King’s quote about living one day in a nation where we don’t judge anyone by the color of their skin but rather by the content of their character.

LWC: What thoughts would you like to leave our readers with in terms of Anthropology?

DO: Sure, I’ll be happy to share. To me, anthropology is more than just a discipline with research interests and methodology. It is a perceptual way of living an open and humble way of life. Seeing the connections of people, culture, biology, and language is a daily event and a ticket to the best show on Earth! Of course, we also have to be mindful of the damage and dangers our species has done and continues to do related to how we care for each other and the planet. But, as noted before, as an optimist humanistic anthropologist, I conclude that we can get past the noise and build a loving world if we can be less tribal or at least see the “tribe” as all of us rather than just some of us.

LWC: Thank you so much for speaking with me. Cheers and thanks for sharing.

DO: You are very welcome, and I thank you for your time and attention. Thank you for offering me a platform to share. This is exactly what we should be doing, coming from so many different disciplines and perspectives to build a community. If your readers ever want to reach out to me, my office is on the first floor of the Bedford Building (1650 Bedford Avenue, Brooklyn N.Y., at CUNY/Medgar Evers College).

Levi Wise Kenneth Catoe Jr.

Journalist, Editor, BOSS, NYC

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digitaltechpro · 6 months ago

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American People and Lifestyle

America: A Diverse Nation Ranked as the third-largest country globally, with a population exceeding 325 million, the United States has evolved significantly from its indigenous roots through successive waves of immigration. This influx of diverse peoples from across the globe has transformed the nation into one of the most culturally heterogeneous places on Earth, often referred to as a “melting…

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aphrvdisiac · 3 months ago

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OFF TO THE RACES.

ellie williams, abby anderson x fem! reader.

part one of to lie and love like you do.

SUMMARY | you are in a poly relationship with new york’s elite women, ellie williams and abby anderson, but living in the world of power, money, and lust possesses each one of you as the dynamic amongst you three becomes more volatile and violent.

WARNINGS | adult language. graphic violence. polyamorous relationship. abby calls reader “bunny,” ellie calls reader, “little lamb.” mentions of alcohol consumption and drug usage. possessive and obsessive behaviors. dark content: graphic details of t*rture and m*rder, men being pigs, controlling behavior. adult content: sub!reader x doms!ellabs, doing it in a confessional booth, god kink, fingering, degradation, overstimulation, edging, ball gag, strap-ons, face smacking, mommy and daddy kink, knife play w/ branding, double penetration.

NOTES | so brief explanation: this is my fic, off to the races. it used to be on my original, old account that fell under the user “angvlita” but unfortunately i deactivated that account so the fic no longer exists. anyways, all rights are reserved to me for this, and i do not want it published anywhere else. with that being said, please take into caution all the tags and warnings because this isn’t meant to be taken lightly whatsoever. ellie and abby are mean and cruel in here. thank you, and enjoy.

If Los Angeles was the city of Angels, then New York was home for all Hellbound.

You grew up in such a glistening city, where people’s facades weren’t as hidden, illicit affairs took place, and a fifteen year old was trying cocaine for the first time. It held beauty just like Lucifer, having greater cruelty and an ominous essence lingering beneath its soul.

You wish you didn’t get caught up in a reckless lifestyle, that you didn’t become so corrupted that you were a girlfriend to your two best friends.

Ellie Williams, daughter to architect and businessman Joel Miller, and Abby Anderson, daughter to a famous renowned surgeon Jerry Anderson. The two had great power, control, and wealth – they fucking lived off of it. They were cruel and vicious to everyone.

Ellie was a venomous scorpion, Abby personified as such a nefarious viper. The two together were threatening, and it all surprised you when they wanted you in their circle in the early start of Junior Year, easily befriending you.

You remembered it clear as day.

You were sitting at a table, reading Jane Eyre. It was your free period, and you had not much to do, finished with any assignments.

The silence you enjoyed was interrupted when two figures sat themselves down at the table, gaining your attention as you peered up at the book, and noticed elite scholars Ellie Williams, and Abby Anderson.

They were grinning at you, eyeing you like a predator did with their prey, a cascade of goosebumps running over your skin.

“Can I help you?” You asked, bookmarking your spot before closing the book, and setting it down.

You knew it came off rude and too sharp, but their appearance made you uncomfortable, and weirded out.

“We’ve been keepin’ an eye on you,” Ellie said, and your heart sank, not knowing exactly what that mean. “We aren’t here to ruin your life, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I mean, I don’t know,” you chuckled nervously, fidgeting with your Cartier bracelet. “You have quite the reputation.”

“So you know us?” Abby asked, and you shrugged, unsure of what else to say.

“We want to invite you out,” Ellie added, and your brows knitted together, utterly confused. How could you not be? It was a random invitation, and you didn’t have any prior interactions with them.

You just had Fine Arts Honors with Ellie, and English Literature with Abby — though, you never made any conversations with them, and you didn’t see the need to.

“Why? This is new, no?” You questioned, eyeing them back and forth in the moment the duo looked at one another, words kindling behind their eyes.

“Somethin’ about you is sweet… special,” Abby confessed, and a smile threatened to curl onto your lips. “You interest us.”

“Marrona, at 8PM,” Ellie stated, getting up with the blonde by her side. “Just come by, and if you still don’t like us, you’re free to go.”

“You’re trusting a stranger? Interesting,” you lightly joked, smiling to yourself. “The world must be ending, then.”

They smiled with you, a rare expression anyone could come across.

It was an unforgettable night that you thought of for a week before either of you approached each other again.

Many of your friends told you to not fall for it, that you’d be a laughing stock, and would only be ruined. You didn’t know how ruined you would become, and you simply wanted to know what it would be like to sit in their company.

You were sure it was because of your status — your mother was an heiress, and your father was a CEO of an advanced technology business. You were humble about your life, yet knew you had a higher position in money and glory than them. You were sure they wouldn’t just let anyone in, that they were more intelligent to let a random classmate of theirs be brought into their social circle.

The deeper you fell into their rabbit hole, you had become tainted, and cruel as them. You were their rotten apple, something they possessed and prized so admirably as you were theirs only. Before the relationship was even thought of, you weren’t allowed to talk to anyone else besides them, leaving you to drop all your closest friends, and submit only to the two girls.

Yet, they took care of you like no one else did — expensive gifts, abrupt trips to Europe, fancy dinners, and the sex they gave you.

God, the fucking sex.

It was them at the same time, or one coming to your place to claim you entirely. You didn’t mind it, no, you had become so immune to being theirs, you would please them.

You don’t exactly remember how the polyamory relationship came to be; you were getting closer with Abby, Ellie didn’t like it, and the two had come to the idea of sharing you, right before twelfth grade. You weren’t opposed to it, but hated the twisted repercussions that tied into it.

During all of Senior Year, you weren’t allowed to go out without them by your side, or at least one of your bodyguards. You couldn’t get drunk, only at home, and that’s it; they had this monologue about how dangerous the world is, and how they wouldn’t be able to forgive themselves if something happened to you.

You had no privacy, they always had a guy watching you from a distance if you went out with family, and tracked your location. Your only friends were whoever else was in their group, which wasn’t much whatsoever, so you were practically without anything.

When you all graduated, and you were planning to attend Columbia, you hoped some leniency would be kicked in from their part, but no — the two only got more dominant about everything, to the point they refused to let you share a dorm room with a girl.

“Oh my fucking god, I’m not going to fuck her!” You yelled. “You’re being dramatic; it is better for me to live on campus so I don’t deal with traffic every morning.”

“What if she tries something?” Ellie asked, sitting down on her couch with a glass of bourbon in her hand. “You know we are just trying to look out for you.”

“No, you’re being insane,” you stated, and she scoffed, eyeing Abby. “Both of you have really got to stop this shit. I need to make a career for myself, be my own person without your crazy bullshit jeopardizing it all.”

Abby got up, now towering over you as she grinned. “Such a brat you are,” she mocked, and you shivered, glaring at her. “After all this time, we hoped you would start being appreciative.”

“I… I’m more than grateful for the both of you,” you assured softly, frowning. “But please, I'd rather be in a dorm room than some penthouse where you’re being insufferable.”

“The fuck did you just say?” Ellie asked, hastily standing up, and before you could speak, she grabbed your jaw. “Insufferable, huh?”

You whimpered, the grasp tightening, and worried she might crack a bone. “No… no,” you whispered, and the pair mockingly cooed at your panic.

Ellie shoved you into Abby’s arms. “Deal with her, I’m in a good mood today.”

Abby held onto your wrist, seating herself down, and bent you over her lap. “Gotta keep training you, ‘specially after all this time,” she mumbled, flipping up your skirt. “Starting to think we should just replace your ball with some soap, maybe raise up the punishments.”

“No, no,” you pleaded, peeking up at her. “I didn’t mean to say—”

“Don’t fuckin’ stare at me,” Abby spat, and you whined, looking away as you could feel her hands massage your ass. “You’re lucky it’s me being lenient, not her.”

Abby wasn’t wrong there — Ellie was more harsh with her punishment, would leave you in a puddle of tears, and it would be Abby that had to reel her back into reality. You recalled the moment when Ellie had you bent over the edge of the kitchen table, hitting your ass while she kept her thick rings on, and you were in tears by the end.

You didn’t talk to her for at least two weeks, but she repeatedly apologized, and was no longer able to strike you with no more than seven slaps, and if she did, Abby had to put her in check.

You never knew why you liked being punished like this, like a ragdoll of some sort, or why you let consequences happen to you. You were human, but something about these two keeping you in check was pleasuring, and comforting in a way.

The first hit made you squeal, kicking your feet in reaction. “Fuck!”

“Count, bunny,” she said, the nickname made your stomach turn. “I know you can do it.”

“One…” you shuddered, another strike coming after it. “Fuck— two!”

“Only doing five today, it’s okay,” she assured, kissing the back of your neck, and your ass was met with the third strike.

“Three!”

Another one.

“Four!”

And the last one.

“Five,” you moaned, your ass burning. “I fucking hated that.”

“Me too, bun,” Abby said, picking you up, and let you sit on her lap. “Let me look at my girl.”

She took your face into her hands, fingers brushing past your ears, and grinned. “There’s my bunny, are you okay?” She wondered sincerely, a frown tugged on her lips.

“‘M fine,” you muttered, resting your head on her shoulder as she held you. “Is Ellie mad at me?”

“You know how she is,” she reminded, and you huffed, nodding. “We love you, more than you’ll ever know. We wouldn’t be able to live if someone hurt you, or something horrible happened.”

“I know, didn’t mean to be rude,” you mumbled, and she sighed, kissing the side of your head. “I just feel like both your lives should be more than just me.”

“Oh, baby,” she sighed, bringing your head back up, and gazed at you with immense endearment, you could faint from it. “You are our life. Our religion, our air, everything we want and need.”

You grinned. “You mean that?”

“Of course. Now, let’s go see Ellie, yeah?” Abby suggested, and you agreed, trailing in front of her as you walked to Ellie's bedroom in her penthouse.

“Ellie,” you sang out, pouting. “Are you still mad?” You opened the bedroom door, finding her sitting on her desk chair with an electric guitar in her hands.

Ellie looked up at you the second you were in her presence, and she sighed, sitting the instrument aside of her. “Hey, little one,” she greeted, opening her arms for you. You rushed to her, perching yourself on her lap, and wrapped your arms around her neck.

“Sorry for being rude,” you mumbled into the crook of her neck. “I love you and Abby both.”

“Sweetheart, I know,” she rested her hand on the back of your head, her thumb caressing it. “We know what’s best for you, that’s why we take care of you unlike anyone else.”

Ellie wasn’t wrong there, and that saddened you. Your parents had always be mentally and emotionally distant; they were there physically, but always focused on their own issues. It was either your mother was caught up in her pill addiction, or your father having a new mistress.

There never really was time for you — you raised yourself for as long as you could remember.

Many would say you had no reason to hate your life when you have this trust fund, nepotism lifestyle, but you would trade all of that just for parental affection and care. Yet, that never came, and the only people who tended to your needs were Ellie and Abby.

They came into your life when you needed them the most.

“Our parents want a gathering tonight,” Abby walked into the room, clearly irritated. “First stop is church.”

“Church?” Ellie laughed. “Oh baby, it’s your parents that want that.”

You never understood why your parents went to church. They may have grown up religious, but the things you witnessed them doing led them to earning a one way ticket to Hell.

“We could have our fun,” Abby assured, grinning. “Isn’t being selfish and ungrateful a sin?”

Ellie picked your head up off her shoulder, forcing you to look at her. “Yeah… it is,” she smirked at your protesting whines, and patted your bottom. “Get home, and get changed.”

You walked inside the cathedral by your parents side, searching around for your girls. “Ah, there’s Jerry!” Your father pointed out, taking you and your mother to Abby’s dad. “Jerry!”

Jerry turned around, grinning at him, both hugging one another. You hopped to Abby’s side, smiling up at her. “Hi,” you whispered.

“Hey, baby,” she mumbled, gently pinching your arm. “Ellie is in the confessional booth.”

“What?” You asked. “Why?”

“You sinned,” Abby reminded, and you swallowed thickly as she leaned into your ear. “And you need to repent.”

Your parents were caught in conversation with Jerry, and you sighed heavily, rolling your eyes. You knew they wouldn’t pay much mind if you were gone for a bit.

“Don’t fuckin’ roll your eyes,” she spat, tightly seizing your wrists, and tugged you away with her. To your unfortunate luck, the confessional booth had its own room in the cathedral, and gradually spacious, giving you more than enough privacy.

“Let the fuck go of my wrist!” You shouted, and she halted her footsteps, turning around. “I can follow, ya’know? I’m not dumb.”

Abby ignored you, suddenly tossing you over her shoulder as you screeched, furiously kicking your feet. “Ellie’s going to love hearing this,” she taunted, and you zipped your mouth, giving up all protest.

Abby twisted open up the door to the room, putting you down on your feet, and slammed the door shut.

Ellie was leaning against the wall, joint in her mouth, and was wearing a black suit, a bralette underneath her fine blazer. “There’s our girl,” she beamed, yet her bright expression toned down when she took notice of Abby's unsatisfied attitude. “What did she do?”

“Rolled her eyes, being a brat,” Abby said, and you looked down in shame, not knowing why you kept digging a hole for yourself. “Don’t know why she keeps doing this. Maybe we’ve been too nice.”

Ellie hummed, burning her joint out on the windowsill before leading herself into the stall, her legs spreading as she sat down. “We’ll take our turns. Kneel before God.”

You only stood still, gazing up at her.

Abby’s hand curled around the back of your neck, getting a whine out of you. “The fuck is your problem today? Want to be ignored instead?” She wondered, and you shook your head. “It sure seems like that, bunny.”

“Bring her over here,” Ellie beckoned, and Abby guided you over to the auburn-haired girl, forcing you down to your knees. “Wearin’ such a pretty dress today. All for us, hm?”

You looked at her, hands resting on your thighs as you nodded. “Course I did. Wanted to be pretty for you both.”

“Hmm. Roll up your dress,” Ellie said, and you froze, not moving. She inched closer to your face, tilting her head. “Something wrong, honey?”

“No, ‘course not,” you muttered, fingers fiddling with the ending hem of your babydoll dress.

“Then listen,” Abby added in, and your breath shuddered as you bunched the skirt to your waist, exposing your bare cunt. “Won’t you look at that? She thought she was gonna get something.”

“Did you think that?” Ellie asked, and you hesitantly nodded, her cruel laugh ringing in your ears. “After how you’ve been acting all day? Silly girl.”

“Where’s your rosary?” Abby wondered, and you opened up your purse, scrunching it up in your palm. “Not even a pure girl anymore, just a depraved whore for us.”

Ellie grabbed the jewelry piece, wrapping it in between her fingers as the end dangled in your face. “Abby, next to me,” she ordered, and Abby took off her leather jacket, letting it drop to the floor, stepping in the stall.

You stayed kneeled, trying to put water to the fire you sparked.

The tip of Ellie’s combat boot hit under your chin, raising your eyes to hers. “Get over to her,” she cocked her head to the side, and you rushed up and over to the blonde haired woman, who grinned at you.

Abby pushed you down onto her lap, your back pressing up against her chest as Ellie pushed open the sliding barrier, mindlessly playing with your rosary. “Why are you here today?” She began, yet Abby shoved your legs open, one hand on your throat, and the other snaked down in between your thighs.

“F—Forgive me,” you stuttered, shivering to Abby's fingers glazing over your needy cunt, “for I have sinned.”

“Go on,” Ellie agreed, and Abby slowly pushed one finger into you. “What troubles you?”

Your head fell back onto Abby’s shoulder, squeezing harder on your throat as a warning. “Fuck… I—I’ve been selfish, sir,” you continued, whining to her teasing pace. “Cruel and ruthless to those who love me.”

“And why is that?” Ellie wondered, paying no mind to you or your noises. “Do they deserve it, little lamb?”

Abby put in a second finger, the pace now running a bit higher, but made sure to not give you entire satisfaction. “Do they deserve it, bunny?” She whispered in your ear, her thumb pressing on your bud. “Tell her now.”

“No, God no,” you whimpered, placing a hand over Abby’s wrist. “I’m just… just a brat— holy fuck, fuck me.”

“Using vulgar language in front of your God, little lamb?” Ellie teased, knowing what she was getting at.

She was your God — both of them were. They were your religion, devoting every piece of you to them, would do anything to have their forgiveness and love for eternity.

“I’m sorry, God,” you moaned, Abby’s fingers pounding into you as you were beginning to fall apart at the seams, grabbing onto her wrist. “Fuck— Forgive me, God. I need your forgiveness.”

“You have to earn it,” Ellie stated, and Abby breathily chuckled, her breath fanning against your skin.

“Want to be good for your Gods?” Abby asked, and you nodded, your face falling into the crook of her neck. “Gonna do anything just for us to fuck you, huh? ‘Course you are, baby. You’re filthy— look what we’ve done to you.”

A warm sensation ran in your stomach, down to your thighs as your body jolted on her lap. “Please, God,” you pleaded, tears at your waterline. “I want you, God. I’ll never sin again.”

Ellie hummed, looking at Abby. “What do you think?” She asked. “Does the whore deserve to be forgiven?”

“Might have to work a little harder,” Abby said, and you were lost in your head, your climax burning in your abdomen. “She’s going to break another commandment.”

“No, no,” you breathed, shaking your head. “I won’t do it unless God tells me to.”

“Is that right?” Abby cooed, and her free hand combed through your hair, grabbing it. Her fingers slipped out of you, tossing you down onto your knees again with a harsh thud, a soft weep eliciting from you.

Ellie stepped out of her side of the booth, moving to yours, and you heard the rustling of her and Abby’s pants, keeping your head down. A nude Ellie brushed past you, sitting down onto Abby’s lap, both of their seeping cunts shown to your eyes.

“Please us, little lamb,” Ellie said, and you slightly moved yourself closer, your mouth latching on Abby’s cunt, hearing a soft moan leave her. You slid two fingers into Ellie’s, who cursed under her breath, and the pair looked down at you as you stared right back at them, desperation shining in your eyes.

“Doing s’good, baby,” Abby gently praised, her breath jagged, and looped around Ellie’s waist to keep her in place. “Keep fuckin’ going like that.”

Your mouth switched between the two, lapping up their juices as they made out with one another, sweetly moaning into each other’s mouth. All you could do was admire them, kneeling obediently while you drowned your mouth in their juices, needing more than just this.

Ellie put her hand on top of your head, the end of your rosary dangling in between your eyes, and she rutted her cunt against your mouth, keeping it latched. You stuffed Abby with three fingers, enough to fulfill her, roughly thrusting them into her.

The rosary continued to stay in your vision, almost like a mocking coming from Ellie and God; that once a pure angel fell into the hands of the corrupted, and became just what and who they are.

But you loved it, you loved that they curated you into this way. All you wanted to do was please them, see how sensitive they could turn out to be.

You spent the remainder of mass baptizing yourself in between their thighs, drunk on the taste of their sweet pussies.

You had spent the next day at home, making sure you had things planned out for when you moved out for Columbia. Abby and Ellie had convinced you to live in a penthouse that was about a block away from the school, and you had agreed on the fact that it was better to be with people you knew than a stranger as they knew it made you easily uncomfortable.

Your parents had left randomly for vacation, staying at their place in Milan, leaving you alone with your cat. You didn’t mind the loneliness, it was something you well adjusted to as you got older, and you only ached for attention when it came to your girls, but they had their responsibilities that you couldn’t interfere with.

You had finished packing up your box of books, setting it in the corner of your bedroom. Your attention turned to the sound of your phone going off, the soft ringtone coming through. You grabbed your phone, grinning at the contact name of “Jesse.”

“Well if it isn’t my favorite troublemaker,” you teased. “What’s up?”

Jesse James and his girlfriend, Dina Woodward, were the only people Ellie and Abby trusted you with; which said plenty because they would kill anyone who they didn’t know, and tried to talk to you. He was good, despite the fact he came from a shit father, constantly got in trouble with the law, and blew money on anything. Dina was the only one who could put him in check, and you had grown close to her over the time of knowing him.

“I fuckin’ bought a club,” Jesse started off, and you scoffed in disbelief. “Turned that shit into a burlesque. She’s a beau, you have to come out and check it out.”

“Well, I can’t right now,” you denied, and he groaned. “I’m trying to make sure I have everything together before I leave for college.”

“Cry me a river, come on!” He begged, and you breathily laughed. “You are always so attached to Ellie and Abs, make time for me.”

“Is your girlfriend with you, at least?” You wondered, and he hummed in response. You looked at the time on your clock, reading “9:03PM”, and you sighed. “I’ll be there in an hour. Don’t go anywhere.”

True to your word, you arrived at Jesse’s enriching club. You got out of the black cab, and stared at the sign that gleamed in pink neon “Carissima.”

You hummed softly to yourself, approaching the security guard at the front. “Friend of Jesse James,” you said, and he nodded, easily recognizing you. He opened up the door for you, thanking him, and moved inside, hearing the familiar melody of “I Put A Spell On You” by Nina Simone tune through the venue.

It didn’t take much to find Jesse, his arm wrapped around Dina’s shoulder as the two sat on a lounge chair in front of performers, their soft laughter knitting between the music. You walked up to the side of the furniture, their eyes averting to you.

“You made it!” Dina exclaimed, jumping up, and pulling you into a hug. “I’ve missed you. Feels like forever.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” you said, separating the hug, and gave a hast squeeze to Jesse before sitting on the side of Dina. “So, what made you buy this?”

“Good investment,” Jesse said, and you awed, chuckling. “My dad doesn’t agree, but it’s beautiful. These performers… mind blowing, a fascination to everyone in this room.”

“You tell Ellie and Abby?” You wondered as Dina handed you a cigarette, lighting it up for you. “They would love this, think you are a genius.”

“I thought you would bring them. Ya’know, since you’re attached to them,” he teased, and Dina smacked his arm, glaring at him. “Bad joke, fuck! But where are they?”

“Don’t know, I haven’t talked to them all day,” you answered, puffing out a blow. “But they got their shit to worry about, don’t like being in the way.”

“You’ve been their world since you met them,” Dina said, taking the stick from you. “However, it is scary how overprotective they are.”

“What do you mean?” You asked.

Jesse laughed. “Those two have always been frightening—”

“Yeah, but their care for her is… different,” she stated, and gazed back at you. “Known them since we were kids, and I can say they would kill for you.”

“So dramatic,” you joked. “They’re the closest people I have in life. They take care of me, know what’s good for me and I don’t know— I’ve never really had that.”

“Yeah, I guess,” she mumbled, handing you back the cigarette. “I just know they’re fucking you good.”

“Okay, I’m gonna go get a drink!” You beamed, inhaling the tobacco, and got up. “You need anything?”

They shook their heads, and you hurried to the bar, continuing to burn out the cancerous stick in a spare ashtray. You smiled at the bartender as she headed over to you.

“What can I get you, love?” She asked.

“Just a cosmo, please,” you said, and she hummed, turning to the drinks. You waited patiently, fingers tapping on the gradient countertop in thought.

A shoulder softly brushed past you, but you ignored the person, until they cleared their throat. “All alone here?”

You shivered to the voice of a man.

“With some friends,” you dryly answered, eyes focused on the bartender who had her back turned from you.

“That’s a shame. Woulda invite you to hang with me,” he said, his voice thick and heavy. “You always still can.”

“No thank you,” you denied, shaking your head, and prayed for your drink to come quicker, only for the bartender to head into the stock room for a moment.

Oh, you felt sick.

From the corner of your eye, you could see Dina and Jesse lost in their conversation, completely oblivious to you.

Your phone was in your purse, and you were scared to even fiddle with it.

“I don’t bite, honey,” he assured, and your heart leaped into your throat as his hand touched your bicep. “Come on. A pretty thing like you should be having fun.”

“Please let go of me,” you said, yet harsh enough to come off stern. “I don’t like your hand on me, so get the fuck off.”

“Now don’t be a bitch,” he spat.

You finally looked at him, your body wanting to collapse on you. He was taller than you, about six foot three or so. Broad and muscular, completely fit. His eyes were dark, had a goatee on his face.

You thought about throwing up all over him just to get this over with.

You hoped people sitting around would notice, yet no one did, caught up in their own worlds. You yanked your arm back, and scoffed. “You don’t got the right to touch me, you fuck.”

“I’ll fuckin’ kill you,” he threatened. “You come here in that little black dress, and expect nobody to fuck you?”

The bartender came back, and was the only one to notice this unsettling tension. “Hey, honey!” She called out, putting your order on the countertop. “Had to head into the back to grab more cranberry juice, I’m sorry.”

She kept her eyes locked on the man, a pair of scissors in her hand. “Can you hold onto my order for a second? I need to use the ladies room,” you said, and she nodded, making sure to keep the man secure in her radius.

You hurried into the bathroom, your shaky hands taking out your phone. Teardrops collected on the screen as you hit Abby’s contact, the first name on your recent call list.

It took only two rings until she answered. “Bunny?”

“Abby… abby,” you breathily whispered, sniffling. “Is Ellie with you?”

“Yeah, baby. We just got done with some things,” she said, and you sighed in relief. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m… I’m at this club, Jesse’s club,” you began, sucking in a sharp breath. “And went to the bar to get a drink… this man came up to me, wouldn’t leave me alone.”

“What?” Abby’s tone sharpened. “Did he hurt you? Where the fuck is Jesse? Or Dina?”

“He just grabbed my arm. Jesse and Dina were just busy with each other, I was too far away for them to notice anything,” you stated clearly, wiping away your hot tears. “I don’t know if he’s still in here, but the bartender is keeping a close eye on him, and I’m hiding in the bathroom.”

“Stay in the bathroom, we’re coming right now,” she assured, and you hung up the call, sitting yourself on the porcelain seat, trying to compile all your thoughts and emotions.

As Abby brought the phone down to her lap, Ellie glanced at her. “What happened?”

“Someone fuckin’ weirdo touched her,” Abby exsperated, and static rang in Ellie’s ears, scoffing in disbelief. “Jesse opened up his own club, she was there, and went alone to get a drink.”

Ellie texted Jesse for the address, and Abby searched around the backseat compartment. “I don’t know if the gun is still in here,” Ellie said, and the blonde groaned in frustration. “We can’t go in there with one.”

“The one time you don’t bring your weapon,” Abby sighed.

“Got the address,” Ellie mumbled, opening up her phone. “Charles! Hit 7th avenue.”

“The fuck are we gonna do with this dude?” Abby asked, and Ellie grinned. “Talk to me, baby.”

“We fuckin’ kill him,” Ellie stated.

You passed time by playing games on your phone, the stress of it being enough to forget the short horror experience you just encountered. The shout of your name in the bathroom caught your attention, killing your high score in the process.

“Baby, where are you?” Ellie called out, and you rushed out of the stall, getting her attention. “Oh, there’s my girl.”

She hastily brought you into her arms, letting you cry into her shoulder as she held you, cupping the back of your head. “My brave girl, hm? So proud of you,” she praised, kissing your temple. “Abby and I are gonna take care of everything.”

You nodded, bringing your head back, and she smiled softly at you. “Do you have any party favors?” You wondered, and she sighed, shaking her head. “Please, just wanna wash off tonight.”

“Honey, you are not taking coke,” she said, and you frowned. “I know you are upset, but your body isn’t used to it, and you wouldn’t like it.”

“Yes I do! Remember when I did it off your ass on our ski trip in Aspen?” You recalled, and she kept denying you. “Please! Just this once. I’ll have Dina make sure I don’t do more than three lines.”

“Dina couldn’t even keep an eye on you right now!” She shouted, and you flinched, body tensing. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I just— You need to be careful.”

“Just three lines,” you repeated.

Ellie reached into her trouser’s pockets, fiddling with the bag, and handed it to you. “Go have fun, baby,” she said, and you kissed her cheek, thanking her before sprinting back out to Jesse and Dina.

The couple bounced up from their seats at your appearance, clear worry plastered on their faces. “Fuck, we’re so sorry,” Dina said, gently grabbing your wrists. “We were so caught up—“

“It’s fine,” you smiled, sitting down on the lounge seat, and popped open the bag of cocaine.

“Fuck, you’re doing lines? Haven’t seen you do that shit since the Debutante Ball,” she said, and you poured some of the white powder onto the table in front of you.

“Ellie and Abby don’t know about that,” you told her, and her eyes widened, looking at her boyfriend who only shrugged at her. “They would kill me if they knew the amount of drugs I’ve done behind their back.”

“You’ve only done cocaine, no?” Jesse questioned, and you only glanced at him over your shoulder, giggling. You took a random card out of your wallet, dividing the powder into neat lines, a dumb smile on your face.

“Jesse, can you go get my cosmo, please?” You asked, sweetness laced in your tone. “I deserve some of that with this shit.” He sighed, nodding, and getting up from his spot.

There were seven lines made, and you wiped off the collected powder from the edge of the card, sniffing it up your left nostril. You exhaled sharply, snickering, and traded the card in for a dollar bill. “You want some of this?” You offered, turning around to look at Dina, and she denied the offer, eyes focused on you.

You hummed, tightly rolling up the bill. “More for me, then.” You brought the paper up to your nose, aligning it with the first line, and took a heavy inhale, a strong burn hitting your nose. You sniffled, bringing your head up and leaned it back, shakily laughing.

“Easy there, babe,” Dina put a hand on your back, rubbing it. Jesse came back on time with your drink, handing it to you, and noticed the dollar bill next to the second line.

“Already started?” He teased, and you took a sip of the cocktail, eyeing to the drug. “I’m all good, treat yourself with that stuff.”

With you doing lines and being utterly distracted inside of the club, Abby and Ellie were on the top floor of the building, inside a storage room with a beaten man on the ground.

Abby took another kick to his gut, Ellie sitting in a chair with a cigarette in her mouth. “You like touchin’ females you don’t know!” Abby yelled, and he sobbed, restrained by cable ties, his right eyes kicked in. “Fuckin’ touching her like that, you aren’t getting away with this shit.”

Ellie took the gun out from the back of her trousers, lucky enough to find the weapon in the glove compartment by the driver. She flashed the object to the man’s eyes, a vile grin playing on her lips as she stared at him.

She got up, and stalked towards his limp body, standing by Abby’s side. “What’s your name, man?” Ellie asked, with her partner taking a hast note to her facade. “Got any kids or anything?”

“My name is Brandon,” he breathed, and Ellie nodded, squatting down to match eye level with him, letting the gun dangle in her hands. “Shit, dude, listen— I—I’m sorry. I didn’t think she was taken.”

“What makes you say that?” Abby questioned.

“A girl like that… wants attention,” he said, and the girls looked at one another before glancing back over to Brandon. “Can even tell she’s got lingerie under that shit. She’s a fuckin’ tease, a whore.”

Ellie hummed, reloading the glock in her hand, and chuckled. “I think I’m done with my cigarette now,” she mumbled, jokingly frowning as she played with the stick in between her fingers. “Too bad I don’t have an ashtray on me.”

Abby took out a switchblade, exchanging it for the gun. “Tell me when you need me to do it,” she said, and the auburn haired girl seized the man’s jaw, squeezing open his mouth as a wave of protests elicited from his throat.

Ellie pushed the bud to his tongue, and cruelly laughed at the garging scream that came out of him. “Keep fuckin’ talking shit!” She shouted, flicking open her switchblade, and held it to his throat. “Swallow that cigarette, wanna see if you still want to run your mouth!”

“You don’t get to talk about her like that,” Abby chimed in, taking off her leather jacket. “You’re lucky we don’t kill you right now.”

Ellie put her hand over the man’s mouth, refusing to let him spit out her cigarette, only giving him the option to swallow it for good. She smiled, pleased with the simple act, and took her hand back. “Got anymore shit to say?” She questioned, tilting her head to the side.

Brandon sniffled, jagged sobs intertwined with his heavy breathing. “You’re both fucking insane,” he began, trying to gather oxygen into him. “She’s going to leave you. You’re going to drive her away with this shit.”

“We’d like to see her try,” Abby said, and Ellie stood up, putting herself aside to let her do as she pleased. She sat back down, opening up her phone to text Jesse.

E: How is she?

J: Two Cosmos in. Had seven lines. Get down here soon.

E: Don’t let her strip her clothes off. We don’t need a sequel to Barcelona.

J: Me and Dina can’t handle her, only you can. She won’t shut the fuck up about you.

E: Don’t let us down again. P.S., may need a mop in here soon.

She tucked her phone away, and admired Abby damaging the man. She was ruthless, yet composing herself enough not to kill him — just yet. His face had molded into a pulp, unrecognizable to anyone as his blood painted on Abby’s hands, his weak pleas being ignored by the pair.

Abby and Ellie got high off of this, hurting or killing anyone who made you uncomfortable. They had been getting away with it for so long, and you had been gullible to it, never blinking an eye to their unknown actions.

They would do this over and over again, even if something was your fault within it, they dealt with you in their own way — but no one was ever to lay a hand on you, and you knew that too.

Abby snagged his wallet out of his pocket, opening it up. “Brandon James,” she announced, pulling out his cash, and putting it in her pockets. “Gonna use this to buy her something pretty and nice.”

“Where does he live?” Ellie asked.

“Won’t you look at that!” Abby said, pressing her boot to his face. “He’s a rich brat. Lives in that building next to yours, Els.”

Ellie chuckled. “Money probably got him out of his shit. Isn’t that right, Brandon James?”

“Please,” is all he could manage to say, dizzy and lightheaded.

Ellie returned over to him, and stood over him before lowering herself. “This may hurt,” she said, signaling for Abby’s help, who obliged by opening the man’s mouth. Ellie grinned, tugging at the tip of his tongue, and began to sever it with her switchblade.

He screamed, thrashing around, but was overpowered by the two women, entirely useless to their strength. “This isn’t even the worst part,” Ellie muttered, grunting as she went on to cut off his tongue. “You made her cry, ya’know? Poor baby was so scared, and didn't know what to do.”

His tongue ripped out, being put to the side of his head. She got up, staring at the blood of her hand, and could only curl her hand into a tight fist.

He fuckin’ frightened her, she thought to herself. He deserves to die.

He was already facing death in a horrid, slow manner, and the last thing he would see was these two, towering over him; utterly indulged by his death, and letting it fuel their ego.

“Kill him. Jesse wants us back,” Ellie ordered, and Abby aimed the gun at his face, her finger carelessly pressing down on the trigger. His face blew, and they both hummed, taking in the view. “Good job. Already called the crew to come get him.”

Stuck yet hast of cleaning themselves up, alcohol and drugs overrode your brain, consuming you. You were sitting on the edge of the couch, staring at the dancers on the stage who moved with elegance, and passion. Each one of them were beautiful, confident in their own way that made your heart beat.

“Wish I was as good as them,” you said, sipping on Jesse’s cup of scotch. “I can fuckin’ dance, but not like that.”

“They’re giving a simple show,” Dina noted, and you blew a raspberry, glaring at her.

“They’re doing much more than that,” you retorted, and inhaled one last bump, coughing. “I… I want to go up there.”

“You’re not,” Jesse denied, and you pouted. “Ellie and Abby would murder you, and then me. We don’t want Barcelona to happen.”

“Oh my gosh! That trip was so fun!” You recalled, warmly smiling at the memory. “Wait, what happened?”

“You drank too much, got lost in the crowd dancing with too many people,” Dina said, and you zoned out, attempting to have any recollection. “Then, you bought everyone shots, danced on top of the bar, and flashed your ass to them.”

“Okay, that’s not bad,” you giggled, shrugging. “I’m going up there!”

“Do you have a death wish?” Dina wondered, and grabbed your wrist, preventing you from standing up. “Your girlfriends are going to kill you if you do some sort of strip tease up there.”

“They’ll get over it,” you said, freeing your wrist from her hold. “They’re not here, anyways, and they won’t do shit about it.”

Jesse and Dina sighed, giving up all attempts and let you run off onto the stage. The burlesque dancers beamed at your presence, letting you stand in the middle as you were too mind numbed to understand what you were doing, just knowing you wanted to have fun.

The song and crowd were an echo, intoxication burning into your body, controlling each thing you did. You sheepishly grinned, your hand reaching to the side of your dress, and pulled down the zipper.

“No, no!” Dina shouted, and Jesse mumbled multiple curse words, sipping down the last of his drink. “Oh, we are so dead.”

Abby and Ellie appeared right next to them, at the exact time you were shimming off your dress, and were exposed in your garter belt, stockings, and undergarments. “What the fuck did we say!” Abby shouted, and the couple sighed, watching in horror with the two girls while you were oblivious to them.

People in the club cheered for you, a few getting their wallets out. You laughed, your vision a blur as you showed off your body, letting your hands run all over your body.

Your girlfriends watched attentively, millions of thoughts piling on top of each other, thinking of how to get off the stage, and back home. They weren’t going to punish you while you were clearly out of your mind, but that gave them enough time to think of how to handle you.

They just fucking murdered someone for you, and your flashing your body to strangers. You were more than ungrateful at this moment.

The dancers on stage encouraged you to do what you wanted, cheering you though they knew you were not intact with reality. “Should I take off my bra?” You questioned, and the people in front yelled in agreement, earning a small laugh out of you. “Yeah? Flash my tits for New York?”

“What the fuck is she saying?” Jesse asked. “Go get your girl before she turns this into a riot house.”

Abby and Ellie both rushed to you, having to fight through a crowd just to reach the steps to the stage. Your hands fidgeted with the hooks of your bra, and before you could strip it off, they got to you on time. “Oh, it’s my girls!” You slurred, hiccuping as you laughed, and blushed in shame. “How long have you been here?”

Ellie took off her blazer, tossing it over you as Abby picked up your dress from the ground. The crowd booed and groaned at your escort as you only waved at them, blowing a kiss. “Bye Dina and Jess! Love you both so much!” You yelled, and squealed from being abruptly thrown over Abby’s shoulder. “Ow, my stomach!”

The limo was parked outside, and the chauffeur opened up the door, Abby throwing you onto the seat but made sure you didn’t bump your head. Ellie climbed in right behind her, the door shutting.

“Hiii,” you slurred, continuing to giggle. “You like my outfit?”

“Who gave you coke?” Abby asked.

“Els!” You said.

“Ellie, we talked about this!” Abby protested, and the auburn shrugged. “She can’t do that shit unattended.”

“I’ve done it so many times without you both,” you confessed, and their eyes snapped at you. “You made me this way — fucking corrupted, and shit. I am your blessing and nightmare.”

“You’re drunk,” Ellie sighed. “You need to rest when we get home.”

“Why, daddy?” You asked, and Ellie reddened at the nickname. “I know you both want to hurt me. I was bad tonight, disrespecting you both. How silly of me.”

“Fuckin’ watch it, bunny,” Abby spat, and you laughed. “I mean it.”

“Whatever. You’re idiots,” you mumbled, and Ellie had thinner patience than Abby did — meaning one more insult would cause her to take you in the car. She tossed your dress at you, eyes boring into you. “You could just hand it next time.”

“You are one more backtalk from getting it,” Ellie warned, and your smile slowly faded. “Anything else you need to confess before we deal with you in the dawn?”

“Oh, I can’t have a life of my own!” You realized, carelessly putting back on your outfit.. “Can’t take drugs without your eyes following me. Can’t even hang out with someone without a bodyguard being there! So fucking annoying!”

“If it’s so annoying, why stay?” Abby asked.

You went silent, looking away from the both of them, and finished throwing on your dress, slouching in your seat. “Only ones who take care of me,” you murmured, so soft and quiet, pouting too. “Make me feel special.”

“Yeah, and we’re the only ones who will put up with you this way,” Ellie added, and you nodded, tears welting in your eyes. “Who else is gonna do that? Tell us.”

You shook your head. “No one… no one,” you mumbled, chewing on your lower lip. “Can… Can I sit on your lap? Please?”

Ellie heavily sighed before giving in, beckoning you. You practically hopped into her lap as you wrapped your arms around her neck, nuzzling your face into her chest.

You fell asleep on the ride back to the shared penthouse.

Sunlight crept into your eyes, taking you out of your gentle slumber. You groaned, stuffing your face into the pillow, and felt warmth on both sides of you. Your eyes slowly parted, finding Ellie’s tattooed arm dangling over your chest, Abby’s looped around your waist.

You were trapped in between them, no way out. Your head pounded, your nose stuffy, and dying in sickness. You stayed still, trying to resurface last night's events, yet only blur spots flickered in your head. You whimpered, loud to drag Abby out of her slumber, her eyes adjusting to the sight of you.

“Hey, bunny,” she whispered. “You okay?”

“Did I drink last night?” You asked, and she weakly chuckled, nodding.

“And you did cocaine,” she muttered, and she brought her hand up, resting it on the side of your face. “You are in trouble.”

You panicked. “Whatever I did—”

“Baby, you are okay,” she assured, thumb caressing your cheek. “But you said some rude things. All we plan to do is spanking, that’s about it.”

“I’m sorry,” you frowned, and she kissed the side of your head. “Hope that’s the only stupid thing I did.”

“And you stripped and performed at a burlesque club,” she shared, and your eyes widened, whining in embarrassment. “Ellie nearly ripped your head off in the car.”

You looked over at Ellie, and grinned. “I’ll make it up to you both,” you promised, pressing a kiss to her lips, and she smiled, nodding. “I’m going to clean myself up, I feel a bit nauseous.”

“We had your things moved and unpacked yesterday,” Abby said, and you sat up, stretching out your arms.

“You broke into my house late at night, and got everything settled that quick?” You laughed. “I’m still a month away from attending school, and you’re already locking me down.”

“Better to get it done now,” she acknowledged, and you got up from the bed, padding over to the bedroom’s bathroom, closing the door behind you.

It took you only about thirty minutes to clean up, unimpressed by how worn out you looked. Your lipstick smeared, eyeliner and mascara cluttered around your eyes, your breath reeking of alcohol.

The shower was enough to relax your body, yet still felt sick, considering you needed a meal. You stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around your body, and stepped in front of the sink.

You found an unopened toothbrush waiting for you, and you grinned, opening it up. You turned on the faucet, and laid down a portion of toothpaste on your toothbrush, running it under the water shortly after.

You brought the object into your mouth, and used your free arm to pick up your pajamas. You walked over to the walk in closet, and looked around for the hamper, only to find it shoved into the corner.

Peeking over the basket, you noticed a white shirt stained with some red on it. It grabbed your attention, looking too crimson to be considered red wine, or anything else.

You just shrugged it off, putting your clothes over it, and went back to brushing your teeth. “Hey Abs,” you called from the bathroom. “What kind of shit did you get into last night?”

“What do you mean?” She shouted back, the loud conversation awakening Ellie.

“One of your shirts is stained,” you said, and Abby inhaled sharply, Ellie shooting up to look at her girlfriend. “Did I fall and eat shit, and get blood over one of you?”

“Honey, you did,” Ellie lied, voice groggy and hoarse. “I had to carry you inside, you had blood coming out your nose.”

“But I have no bruises or anything?” You realized, spitting out the paste, and cleaned up your toothbrush and mouth. You changed into shorts and tee before walking back into the bedroom. “Did you guys get into a fight last night?”

They went silent, and you got into the middle of them on the bed, going back and forth looking at them.

“You had an incident last night,” Ellie said, and your brows furrowed. “A man was being a fuckin’ dick, you called Abby, and we handled it.”

“Oh what, you fucking killed him?” You joked, and they laughed dryly with you, but enough to make it believable. “If you beat him, you just have to say that.”

“We handled it,” Ellie repeated, and moved herself closer to you, putting her hand on your cheek. “Now we need to handle you.”

You rolled your eyes, bitterly scoffing.

“Fuckin’ roll them again,” she dared, and Abby laid back against the headboard, letting everything unravel. “Always going to be a brat? Even when we’re so good to you?”

Your face softened into a doe expression, tilting your head to the side. “Doesn’t that make you want to fuck me?”

“We won’t even touch you if that’s what you're trying to accomplish here,” she taunted, and her hand snaked up to the side of your head, tightly gripping your hair. “When are you going to learn, little lamb? Is what we do for you not enough?”

“It is,” you whimpered.

“Yeah? Then why do you keep acting like it isn’t?” She asked, and eyed over to Abby. “What should we do with her?”

“Break her,” Abby said, getting up from her spot. Ellie grinned, turning her head back towards you, and your cheek was met with a harsh slap. You gasped, and her hand slid down to the back of your neck, pushing your body onto the bed.

“Fuckin’ strip,” Ellie spat, and you whimpered, but obliged. You fiddled with the ending hem of your shirt, taking it off, and your fingers hooked around the waistband of your panties and pajama shorts. “Need you on all fours.”

You huffed under your breath, glad that she couldn’t see you roll your eyes again. Your clothes piled down onto the ground, letting your knees sink into the mattress, your chest laying flat as your ass was lifted to her eyes for display.

“Baby, you’re fucking soaking,” Ellie cooed with Abby returning on time, able to hear the clicking of objects. “Let’s hold off on gagging her until she wants to say some shit.”

Abby moved to your eye level, grinning. “You want to keep being a desperate whore?”

“I’ll get my satisfaction either way,” you assured, and she inhaled sharply, eyes snapping into Ellie’s. The auburn handed her an item, noticing the pink ball. “Wait, wait!”

“Shut the fuck up,” Abby seethed, maneuvering your face and brought it up, fastening up the ball gag. “You’ve really fuckin’ done it this time, bunny. And Ellie is going to handle you, not me.”

You swallowed thickly, your doe eyes shining with pleas but the blonde dismissed you, tossing your face back onto the bed.

Both girls had stripped themselves bare, Ellie positioned behind you as Abby sat in front of you, her cunt for you to gawk at, but forbidden to please.

In a sharp breath, you felt thick silicone push into you, causing your cunt to stretch. You cried, yet it was mumbled, and Abby laughed at you. “Gonna deny you everything, honey,” Ellie muttered, her hands grasping onto your cheeks for support as she carelessly thrusted into you, breaking into you. “Need to make you cry, need to know you’re fucking place with us.”

“We could easily get rid of you,” Abby continued on, and your brows knitted together, shaking your head. “Could’ve fucking disposed you months ago, but no. Here we are, still putting up with your bratty ass.”

You cursed and moaned breathlessly, the pain turning into a bliss as Ellie’s strap pounded into you. “Wouldn’t want that, huh?” She asked, and you cried in response. “Course not, honey. No one fuckin’ loves you like we do.”

You stared at Abby with teary eyes, your hand aching to touch her, only for the blonde to slap it away. “No, take what you are getting right now,” she warned, and you nodded, your hips rolling and swaying with the rhythm of Ellie’s thrusts. “Won’t ya look at that? Little bunny just can’t get enough.”

Your hands grasped onto the messy bed sheets, nails digging into them. You stuffed your face into the material, lewd noises eliciting from you through the ball gag, almost feeling as if your body was jolted with electricity the moment Ellie’s strap found your orgasmic area.

“She’s enjoying this too much,” Abby pointed out, and Ellie hummed, all movement being halted. You groaned in protest, and she switched around your body, laying you flat on your back. She straddled herself on top of you, intimidating you with how she towered over you.

She popped the gag out of your mouth, your lungs engulfing fresh air. “Oh, little lamb,” she softly whispered, and smacked your face again, seizing it afterwards. “You got me upset, you know that? Treating me like shit.”

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered, the strike burning your cheek before she placed another one. “Fuck!”

“You’re sorry?” She repeated, almost as if she didn’t trust you. “For which part, honey?”

“Just… just wanted to get a rise,” you admitted, breathing heavily. “Couldn’t ask for it.”

“Look where that landed you,” she said, and hit you once more, your head spinning. “You going to apologize to Abby, hm?” She climbed off of you, her hands guiding you around to face the blonde. “Say sorry, baby.”

You were a crying mess, and weren’t even at the worst part yet. Though you were scared, you were aroused; maybe you were as depraved as they were. You enjoyed the sadistic acts they brought onto you, wanting to be all theirs to use, and play with.

You were their girl at the end of the day, nothing could change that.

“I’m sorry, mama,” you mumbled, and Abby hummed, careless to your apology. “Please, mama. Didn’t mean it, I’ll be better.”

“You need to start acting right,” she said, and you nodded, mumbling promises through your sobs. “You aren’t able to leave us, you know that, right?”

“I won’t,” you reassured, sniffling. You knew that’s what many people wanted, that they knew you couldn't be without these two girls, simply as if they were your life support.

Everyone knew it.

“Where’s your blade?” Abby asked, and Ellie gestured to the night stand. She opened up the drawer, taking out her prized switchblade, something she always carried with her, but you didn’t know why. “Got to mark our girl.”

Ellie grabbed her knife, flicking it open, and she settled herself in between your thighs. She was grinning to herself, yet so was Abby, the two only knowing what they had done the previous night with the weapon, and you were clueless to it all.

“Need you to be a big girl for me,” Ellie stated, and you sucked in a sharp breath, the tip of the switchblade pointing into your right inner thigh, beginning to carve into your skin. “Right there, baby. Doing s’good for us, focus on mama.”

Abby scooted closer to you, putting your head on her lap. “Don’t cry, bunny. It’s gonna be over soon.”

Ellie branded her initial firstly into your right thigh before moving onto your left inner thigh, starting to cut Abby’s into it. You were trying your best to compose your body, squirming and softly sobbing to your skin being pierced.

“Mama, it hurts,” you pouted, and she caressed your cheek, looking down at you. “I know I’m your girl.”

“Just so you remember,” Abby reminded, groping your breasts. “Sometimes you forget, baby. We can’t keep repeating ourselves.”

You only nodded, melting into her gentle touch. Ellie threw her knife on top of the pile of clothes, smirking at initials. “Ah, now we can give you what you want,” she said, and you sighed in relief, a smile playing on your lips.

Dots of blood appeared on the wounds as the girls got up from the bed, opening the bottom drawer of the night stand. You stared up at the ceiling, ignoring the burn that scorned, and a large hand pressed onto the side of your body, shifting you around.

“Come on, baby,” Abby whispered, positioning you on your knees that sunk into the bed, and could feel her bare chest brush on your back. “Need you to spread yourself for us, you can do it.”

“You’re our girl,” Ellie promised, kneeling in front of you, and cradled your face into her warm hands. “Don’t know what we would do if you tried to leave us.”

Abby wetted her fingers, spitting down on your tight hole as she pushed two fingers into it to start you off. You roughly gasped, your body nearly faltering. “Stay steady, princess,” she said, moving her fingers at an easy pace. “Gotta prepare you for my cock, I need to make sure you can take it nice and sweet.”

Your face stayed in Ellie’s hands, trying to keep you focused on her. “Make sure to keep yourself spread for mama,” she told you, and you nodded, your shaky hands clawed down on your ass as you kept it spread open for Abby. “You can take it, you always do. Isn’t that right, sweet girl?”

“Yes daddy,” you muttered, and Abby’s fingers popped out of you. She put her hand back on your shoulder, guiding you back in the same moment she let her strap harshly sink into your whole. You cursed under your breath, tears welting in your eyes, and Ellie cooed, keeping your face in place.

Abby didn’t move further, letting your hole take in all of her, and nodded at Ellie. She dropped her hands, hooking your arms around her neck as she filled your hot cunt with her strap, and your body shuddered, your face collapsing down onto her chest. “No no, baby,” she said, shaking her head. “You gotta show us how much you want us. Fuck yourself on our cocks.”

“Too stuffed,” you mumbled, and Abby’s hand reached for the front of your neck, tugging your head back.

“Show us how needy you are, pathetic bitch,” Abby spat, and you whimpered, but compiled, gently bouncing yourself on both silicone objects. “Yeah, that’s it, bunny. Fuckin’ take everything we give you.”

Ellie’s was captivated by the way your cunt swallowed her strap, dripping and soaking it already. “This is all you wanted, right?” She taunted, breathlessly chuckling. “Just wanted us to make you cock drunk, for us to treat you like the dumb whore you are.”

“Y—Yes, yes!” You choked out, rolling your hips as your body began to endure the scorching pleasure. “Oh my god, feels s’fucking good, please.”

“You’re barely fuckin’ two minutes in on fucking yourself,” Abby laughed, bringing your head back and laid down on her shoulder, forcing you to look up at her, “And you’re already falling apart. Can even hear how wet your pussy is.”

“Want to be fucked, please,” you breathed, on a brink of sobs. “Can’t do it on my own.”

“You have to earn it, love,” she stated, and grinned. “Show us how bad you need us, want us to fuck your pretty holes.”

You pouted, and she shoved your head back forward, a spin of dizziness whirling in your brain. Ellie sadistically smirked in front of you, her hands laid on your thighs, and tilted her to the side. “Looks you’re about to cry, little lamb,” she teased, and you kept heavy eye contact as your holes stretched further with every desperate bounce. “Got nothing to cry about, honey. You brought this on yourself, you know that.”

“S—said sorry, daddy. I’m sorry,” your breath shook, sobs threatening to spill from you. You were overfilled with needs, feeling as if you were in heat, and only they could put the fire out. You could fuck yourself good, but they could make you feel orgasmic tides crash into your soul, and take you in one.

“Only saying sorry ‘cause you’re not getting what you want,” Ellie said, and you were quick to deny it. “Don’t fuckin’ lie, you know how much we hate that.”

“Please, please,” you begged. “I’ll be so good, won’t be a brat ever again.”

“Fucking lying again,” Ellie scoffed, and Abby grinned, smacking your ass. “Don’t worry baby, we like when you are; means we get to see you cry and break.”

You were stuck in the middle of these two, falling apart on their cocks as they observed you, waiting for you to break down into sobs. This was their whole pride, everything they fucking thrived off of, and if it made them the happiest they’ve ever been, you would them hurt you over and over again.

Your bouncing turned rapid, breasts in sync, and porngraphic noises drawing out of you. Your sensitive spots were being hit at, your eyes rolling back, and could feel heat pooling in your abdomen. Your hands reached out for one of them, but they denied you of it, leading you to fall into pits of sobs.

“There it is,” Abby growled. “Just what we wanted.”

“Can’t do it,” you sobbed, shaking your head. “Please, need mama. Need your help, please.”

“Yeah, bunny? Need us to take over?” She asked, mockery tangled in her tone. “Can’t use that silly brain of yours, huh? Our poor baby that’s useless.”

Her words mixed in with the fire that bubbled inside of you, expanding into your thighs. “Fuck me, fuck me,” you babbled, choking on your tears. “Need it s’bad, please. Just fuck me.”

Ellie halted your movements, and kissed your cheek. “We got you, honey. Let us do whatever we want, okay? We need to fill your holes, want to see it leak out of you.”

The duo situated themselves before handling you to stretch your form better, your knees locking place to keep you up. Abby braced her hands on your waist before her strap brutally thrusted into you, Ellie following the same tempo shortly after.

You could feel yourself being split open, Abby’s hands residing on your hips as Ellie’s let hers rest on the sides of your breasts. Their noises were shaky, rough, and undeniably lewd, a string of curses muttering out of them.

They would always be hypnotized by you, your body, and how fucking well you always took them. They would fuck you hours on end, and they have before, but they couldn’t get enough it. It was a fucking drug, worse than any they’ve taken. Everything about you was addicting and pure perfection to their eyes, knowing that they would be the only ones who could see you crumble under them like this, let them take control of you, and tear you apart.

They wanted to fucking spend the rest of their life in your pussy, fucking destroying it, and letting it cry with you.

Raw lust was a firestorm on your skin, sinking into your body, and coursing through you. Your climax was overrode, about to collapse on you, and take you entirely, just needing to be free. Your legs trembled, slowly weakening, and a muscular arm snaked around your waist to lock you in.

“Our pretty girl needs to cum,” she acknowledged, and Ellie’s fingers furiously hooked around your throat, squeezing it. “What do you think, babe? We let her cum?”

“Don’t know if she deserves it,” Ellie said, and your sobs were uncontrollable; your body was breaking, haze clouded in your head, and your high was unbearable over the limit. “You want to cum, little lamb? ‘M having too much fun seeing you like this.”

“Wanna cum, need to cum,” you blubbered, breath hallowed, and could feel them so far into you, you could almost swear they were poking at your stomach. “I’ll be so good forever. ‘M your girl, only yours; won’t ever be ungrateful again.”

Ellie grinned. “You mean that, honey?”

You mindlessly nodded, agreeing anything just so you could cum — it was fucking torturous.

“Cum for us, sweetheart,” Abby said, and you exhaled in relief, your body relaxing to her permission. Like a violent hit, your high crashed out of you causing your body to jump and shudder. Abby kept her arm around you, the pair not being done with you until they came.

You could hear the sploshing of your juices as Ellie viciously rammed into you, Abby’s cock abusing your tight hole with absolutely no remorse. You were there, letting yourself be their garbage waste, waiting for them to fill you up.

“Imagine if we could fuckin’ put a baby in her,” Abby laughed, her moans knitted into it. “Make her our bitch forever, wouldn’t be able to leave us then.”

“That what you want, angel? For us to make you a pretty mommy?” Ellie asked, and you blankly agreed, braindead and numb. “Keep you trapped forever, nowhere to fuckin’ go.”

Abby and Ellie always considered that; having a family with you, though they never practically discussed it with you, or if that’s what you wanted. They truly wanted you in their life forever, needed you in every way that would kill them if they couldn’t have it. And if you did try to exit out of their lives, they would find a solution to reel you back in.

“Mama gonna fill your hole, ‘kay?” Abby warned, and you hummed, falling in and out of reality. Ellie left her on your throat as extra leverage as she continued to hammer herself into you, her own climax trailing behind the blonde’s.

A symphony of vulgar, raw noises echoed throughout the bedroom, and your second peak surfaced in the depths of your belly, your body frail and trembling.

“Fuck, baby, baby, baby,” Ellie cried out, her nails clawing into your skin, and Abby’s hands crept down to your cheeks, clawing into them. Your skin was running hot and wild, their body heat radiating onto you as the room smelt of filth and sweat, shameless moans and whimpers wailing out of all three of you.

Your cunt and hole were stuffed with cum from their straps with Abby and Ellie’s climax dripped out of their sweet pussies. They pushed themselves out of you, and you fell back on the bed, gathering lungfuls of breaths.

“Won’t you look at that?” Abby said, her and Ellie mesmerized by their cum leaking out of your holes, their initials branded into your thighs. “So fuckin’ pretty, all for us to look at.”

“Head… hurts,” is all you could manage to say, curling up into a ball.

The girls took off their object, dropping it to the floor as they separated to obtain things for you. Abby went to the kitchen, grabbing cold water, painkillers, and a box of cherries for you; Ellie was in the bathroom, wetting a rag, and seized the first aid kit.

They rushed to your side in under a minute, worried that they might have finally done it this time.

“Baby, you with us?” Ellie panicked, and you nodded, sleep wanting to take you. “Can you sit up for us, please?”

“Can’t,” you whimpered, and Abby sighed, helping to pick you up. She kissed the side of your head, holding you sit up while Ellie aided you.

“You did so good for us, sweetheart,” Ellie cooed, running the cloth over your aching cunt and hole as you hissed in response. “I know, I know. Just need to make sure we clean you up well, okay?”

Abby brought up the glass of water to lips, stroking the side of your head while you took slow sips. “There we go, there’s our tough girl,” she whispered, and opened up the bottle of painkillers, inserting two pills in your mouth, returning the glass back to your mouth afterwards. “We’re so proud of you. You’re okay, bunny, we’re almost done.”

Ellie soothed your wounds with hydrogen peroxide, putting bandaids over it after. She put a chaste kiss to your hip, and you smiled small, thanking her. “You want to get some rest?” She asked, and you nodded. “Okay, honey, let us change the sheets while you eat some food, yeah?”

Abby carried to the loveseat sofa that sat in the corner of the bedroom, handing you the box of cherries as she helped out Ellie. The two weren’t even cleaned up, but made sure you were comfortable and okay before they were.

You wanted to cry.

They’re so fucking perfect, you said in your head.

You had eaten about five cherries by the time they fixed up the mattress, and put new sheets on top of it. You set the food next to you, and Abby returned to you, scooping you into her arms as you grasped onto her, sitting you on the edge of the bed.

Ellie picked out a new set of pajamas for you, changing you into new underwear, and a soft, pink nightgown. “Get some rest, and we’re gonna get ourselves fixed, ‘kay?” She said, guiding you under the duvet covers, and made sure you were tucked in. “We’ll be here when you wake up.”

You hummed, your eyes drooping, and let rest take over you. You felt them press a loving kiss to your forehead before you passed out.

You could hear your ringtone tune, lulling you out of your slumber. You let it go through as it shut up a few seconds later, and you groaned, trying to fall back asleep.

Then, the ringtone came back, and the buzzing added onto it. Your hand reached for your phone, finding it laying next to you. You grabbed it, squinting to who was calling.

Joel Miller, the contact name flashed.

Why the fuck was Joel calling?

You noticed the time, seeing it to be 4PM — how fucking long were you asleep for?

You swiped the button right, bringing the device up to your ear. “Hello?” You mumbled, clearly exhausted and groggy.

“Hey, kid. I was wonderin’ if Ellie was with you?” He asked, trying to sound calm, but wasn’t. You instantly sat up, finding a note on the nightstand, and you picked it up.

Abby and I went out to get some things. Be back as soon as we can. Love you always, sweet girl.

Xo, Ellie.

“Um, no,” you answered, putting the note down. “Why? Did something happen?”

There was silence for a moment. “The cops are here, asking for her.”

“Cops. Why?” You asked, fear streaming through your whole body.

“They’re accusing her of murder,” Joel said, and you swallowed thickly. “Someone reported their friend missing — a Brandon James — saying how they saw him leave with Ellie, and Abby.”

Memories now began to flick in your brain, like bright lights, and bile burned at your throat.

The shirt. The red on the shirt.

Blood.

“We handled it,” you recalled Ellie saying.

“We handled it” was code for “we killed someone.”

You remembered the Brandon guy harassing you, grabbing your arm, and it sent you into full panic mode. You remember calling Abby about it, and Ellie giving you coke to distract you for the meantime. You remembered them not being with you for a while, keeping you with Dina and Jesse.

They needed you blind and gullible.

“Are you sure it’s even her description? People just say shit ‘cause they hate her,” you said, holding yourself together. “And Abby? That’s crazy.”

“Another person at the club supported it by saying they saw the two walking out with you,” Joel continued, and you quietly cursed under your breath, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. “They were there, so were you.”

You went quiet as you heard some shuffling over the line.

“Do you know something?” He asked.

“I don’t,” you said, sincerity mingled in your words. “I promise I don’t. And I don’t remember anything about being at a club, I’m sorry.”

“Okay, well if you see her or them, call me,” Joel said, and you hummed, hanging up the call immediately. You let go of your shaky breaths, and nodded to yourself as a waterfall of hot tears streamed down your cheeks.

You couldn’t stop thinking of the shirt. It had someone’s blood on it, and they were dumb enough to leave it at home. You knew Jesse and Dina wouldn’t narc them out, they were the same as Ellie and Abby.

You were alone in this; you had the choice of coming forward with the shirt, or keeping your head down, being naive to everything.

Everything started to make sense — the possession, the house, the authority you had given them. They never wanted you to leave, and they eliminated any threats, even ones that hurt you. You were glad they were there at your beck and call, but you never knew it would go to the extremes of murder. You were starting to worry that this wasn’t the first time they did this, but the first time it was starting to catch up with them.

You continued to sob as you went through your phone contacts, and clicked your mother’s number.

It took a few rings until she picked up. “Hello?”

“Momma…” you sobbed out, not knowing how to explain what you were thinking without exposing a lot of things. “Momma, I’m worried.”

Your parents weren’t entirely neglectful — if you really needed them, they were there, and would never get mad at you for anything, even if you had some fault in it. They had their fatal flaws, ones that even affected you, but they’d drop everything if you were in danger.

You never knew why that was, but you appreciated it.

“What’s wrong, dear? What happened?” She asked. “Why are you crying?”

“I think something bad happened,” you sobbed, sniffling. “And… and I can’t be here, in the city. It’s a lot to explain, but can I stay with you in Milan? Please?”

“You’re worrying me, cherie,” she said, and you broke down further, everything in the room spinning with you. “You can come stay. Are you at home?”

“At this penthouse… I’ll send the address to Tony,” you stated, trying to steady your breathing. “Thank you, momma.”

“Of course,” she softly responded, and the line went dead. You rushed down to your feet, running into the walk-in closet, and grabbed a suitcase. You tossed random amounts of clothes until the baggage couldn’t take anymore; you could buy more stuff in Milan.

You tossed your hygienic products on top of the clothes, and before you were going to zip up the luggage, your eyes averted to the hamper. You contemplated taking the shirt with you, burning it in another country so nothing would be traced back to them.

You couldn’t tamper with evidence. But these were your girls, and it was your turn to take care of them, even if their actions made you sick at this very moment. You grabbed the bloody shirt, tucking it under your clothes, and zipped up the suitcase. You put on your sneakers, and tossed a leather jacket over your nightgown.

Abby’s jacket.

You shrugged it off, and grabbed your cell phone, putting it in your purse. You double checked to see if you had everything in your purse before rushing yourself out of the penthouse, and into the elevator.

You didn’t need to leave a note, or anything of that sort. You couldn’t talk to them for a while, not until you made sure you weren’t crazy or overthinking this whole situation. But the shirt was enough to confirm the first of your suspicions, and what Ellie said.

“We handled it”, her voice kept playing in your head, like a broken record.

For now, you needed to isolate yourself; besides, it wasn’t like they would find you.

That wasn’t possible.

You hoped.

2K notes · View notes

quasarkisses · 6 months ago

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every pride I'm reminded that all us queers, trannies, pervs and freaks were FORCED to unite against a real threat that destroyed real lives, and that threat was christianity, as white and polite and american as apple pie

I truly, deeply and personally resent christianity. I'll say it with my whole chest. I despise the stigma that persists in progressive spaces around speaking out against the Socially Dominant Cult despite the inescapable chokehold it has on my rights and safety

reading the bible in an earnest attempt to overcome this and find compassion for the christians surrounding me only made it worse. I feel bad for them.

I wish more people would ask themselves, "Who told me that?" about their faiths and beliefs. about everything, really.

#blah blah blah #again i state #this is not about intelligence. it's about indoctrination #we are forced to accept and respect an oppressive cult who calls honest love a lifestyle and who calls subservience its soul #go read the old testament and tell me moses don't sound like charlie manson #new english version was the one i was recommended

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petnews2day · 2 years ago

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Lady Gaga is being sued by an accomplice of her dog-knapping, she now wants $1.5 Million

New Post has been published on https://petn.ws/6w0dU

Lady Gaga is being sued by an accomplice of her dog-knapping, she now wants $1.5 Million

Lady Gaga is currently undergoing a court battle against Jennifer McBride who participated in the famous dog theft that ended with Gaga’s dog walker being shot, and the dogs being stolen. Jennifer McBride is suing Lady Gaga for not paying the $500,000 no-questions-asked reward, according to McBride, she deserves that and even more as she […]

See full article at https://petn.ws/6w0dU #DogNews #CelebritiesEnglish, #EnLifestyleCelebrities

#Celebrities - English #en/lifestyle/celebrities #Dog News

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katiascraft · 23 days ago

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"This is how you fall in love" | OP81

parings: Oscar Piastri x Reader.

Summary: Oscar is truly, madly, deeply in love with you.

Now playing: "this is how you fall in love" by Jeremy Zucker & Chelsea Cutler.

Word count: +1,2k

Warnings: I think none just pure fluff. Not a native English speaker so there could be (so many errors). I do what I can. Not proofread.

Authors note: hey I don’t even know if this is good - I really hope it is - but I needed to write about Oscar SO BAD. (Btw is Yale in New York? Forgot to look it up). Update: I changed it. Yale it’s no even near to NYC 🤣 I’m a mess. Don’t forget to comment, like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

MASTERLIST

It was a sunny morning in Monaco. The quiet of the city could still be appreciated. You were asleep on the bed you shared with Oscar. It was your first night here since you haven’t seen each for the last time about 1 month or maybe almost 2. Time is a difficult thing to be aware of with his schedule to be honest.

Both of you had really busy lifestyles yet managed to build this relationship. Mostly it was a long distance relationship. He was traveling and working the whole year. And you were a student at Ivy Columbia University in New York City. As students it was difficult to find a gap between your exam and classes that fitted the races. You tried your best to always be there for him. Even if it was through the phone after the race. And for him that was really considerate.

You didn’t even have time to breathe when it was exams season yet you still find time to call and check on him. He knows it’s an obvious thing you’re supposed to do with people you love. But still he really appreciates it.

He was so happy and grateful you were finally together. Because you don’t see each other that often - every moment you spend together it’s so intense and pure magic. You do everything you could think of before saying goodbye again and part ways. It was the hardest part of your relationship. You said goodbye to each other so many times it anxiety breaking. He just never could get enough from you, from being with you. He has never felt this way about anyone and the fact that it’s been 4 years of being side by side it was crazy to him. How he would never get bored of you. You were always so intriguing, unpredictable, witty. You were the opposite when it came to what others could see. But behind close doors in your little magical and full of love world - you two matched each other's crazy perfectly.

Oscar is an introvert and really shy when it comes to interactions with people, always feeling nervous and so polite. You were always loud and could talk even with a wall if you wanted to. Always the life of the party so extroverted. You were the opposite but the same in a way. You would get so shy around him giggling like the teenager you were since you two met. And he could be the best at flirting and teasing around you. You made him feel so comfortable in his own skin and he just got loose and relaxed. Could be the real him with you. And just for you.

In your little beautiful world you wouldn’t stop talking about everything and anything. Joking around and teasing each other just to end up having sex in the living room. The chemistry between you two was unmatched. Behind your four walls he was the most confident man and you were as well. Bringing the best of each other out. Just for the other one. You were sexy, fierce, not afraid of anything. He made you feel even powerful.the way he always uplift you when you needed him the most and the fact that you could be so vulnerable knowing he won’t judge. He never did. He knew the real you and embraced it. His love changed you so much. He is the best thing that ever happened to you. And you were his. Oscar with you was kind of another person. It was him of course but intensified. Open and free. You gave him that space, that safety. And he adored you so much for that. Being himself it’s something he struggles with most of the time. Shying away. But with you by his side he could be the life of the party too.

He loved watching you study so concentrated. He would join you in silence, maybe by reading a book, or preparing your favorite tea in moral support. Or he would just sit in silence admiring you. How the sun would reflect on you and how it could make you shine even more. How perfect you’d look. And how that could make his heart race high speed. He would feel so lucky to have you. The comfort he felt was so big. He would want the time to stop right there and live stuck there forever. With you. Also, he loved the way you showed him so much love. He loved your homemade cakes and pies. You were so good with pastry. It was your inside joke. Because you were so good with him as well. He sometime would join you and try to help just to fail miserably and start a flour fight. The kitchen ended up in a mess but you were giggling and enjoying yourselves. Everything was worth it.

He really loved sharing activities together. Whether it was a paddle match against George and Carmen or Maria Kart battles with Lando. Also you loved hiking together and discovering new places around Monaco where you could escape reality and plan picnic dates. He loved that you got along so well with his friends and family. Since day one it felt natural. Everyone was welcoming of you. He was so nervous about it. But it was perfect because for him you were.

He heard you coming down the stairs just in time for the breakfast he had prepared for you both. You appeared with your hair in a mess and sleepy eyes. His tshirt on and your boxers of lighting mcqueen. You looked so adorable. Squishy. he smiled widely at you. And you returned the smile hugging him tightly.

“Good morning sleeping beauty” he said sweetly, grabbing you in his arms and kissing your temple. He heard you giggle.

“Good morning my Prince Charming. How grateful I am to wake up next to you for the rest of my life” you said teasingly and romantically looking at him. He giggled blushing. A soft pink tone now on his cheeks. You always had that effect on him.

“and how grateful I am to have you in my arms every morning for the rest of my days” he said just like you making you giggle to then plant a soft kiss on your lips. “I love you,” he said, pulling away gently.

“Me too my love” you said softly.

You two took all of the things he had prepared with so much love to the table by the pool. The morning was beautiful and warm. Perfect. He put all of your favorite fruits and prepared your favorite cappuccino as well. He is always on the details. He remembered everything about you. You didn't have to ask - he already knew. He was perfect. Perfectly imperfect. There was no other man like him. You were sure about it. And you felt really lucky he even looked at you. These past few years were everything and more of what you could ever have dreamed as a kid. You always wanted to have your special someone - but you never thought you would find him.

You had your breakfast talking about what you were gonna do for the day.

Maybe this is what it really feels to fall in love.

Peaceful. Comfortable in silence. Not overthinking. Just being you and feeling loved. Feeling seen. Feeling celebrated. Cared for. Being chosen. The one. The bestest of friends. Your shoulder to cry on. Laughing until crying. Hugs and more hugs. Plasire. Deep talk. Vulnerability. Partnership. Support. Admiration. Trust and communication.

Giving a part of you to someone else to carry everywhere they went trusting they will never break it.

Maybe this is how you fall in love.

How you two fell in love every single day.

——————————————————————————————-

Hope you liked it 💌 if you have any ideas my inbox is open so send your requests!

#my work!🧉#works by cate :)#oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #op81 imagine #op81 x reader #op81 fic #op81 #f1 x female reader #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x you

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sturnsstar · 3 months ago

Text

Adore You ✶ Matt Sturniolo (NSFW)

a/n: My first smut ever! Be honest and tell me if this sucks lmao

pairing: Extrovert!Yapper!FemReader x Introvert!Matt

warnings: porn with plot / minor discussion / reader can’t take anything seriously and overthinks a lot / miscommunication / Matt just wants reader to shut up / Matt is a communication king / pet names! / SMUT / fingering / brief jerking off / some dirty talk / p in v / no protection (USE IT) / they banter a lot

requested: no

summary: You and Matt have been together for almost 5 months now. Your lifestyle is pretty different from his, but you manage to find compromises throughout the relationship. One night, you convince him to accompany you to a party, where you start to overthink your relationship. Luckily, Matt is here to prove you wrong.

P.S. english is not my first language.

It was 11 pm as I finished reapplying my gloss for the third time that night. I finally convinced Matt to come to a party with me. It had been a while since I last went to a big social event, since Matt doesn’t really enjoy them. He never stopped me from going, of course, but he generally declined my invitations to join me.

Tonight though he changed his mind: while I was in the middle of preparations he sent me a text, asking me where and when the party was. I was so excited to go with him: I liked showing him off, he was my best friend and the best thing that ever happened to me. I honestly didn’t understand how he could like me, given the fact our personalities were so different: I’m what could be described as a social butterfly, a yapper, always ready for a new adventure or a new party, the more people the better. Matt was somewhat shy but not really: he enjoyed being with his friends but he never liked loud places, which I, on the contrary, loved.

We somehow worked anyway: he’s the lighthouse I need to calm myself, the part of me that knows how to handle me and my moods. And I like to think I help him too, making him understand that sometimes going out and trying new things is not that bad.

He picks me up twenty minutes later and we drive to the house where the party is taking place. The host is one of my old schoolmates: she’s graduated University and wants to celebrate with her old friends. I begged Matt to come with me, mostly because I want him to know my friends better. The fact he’s here with me tonight means the world to me.

“Thank you for joining me” I say, taking his right hand in mine and squeezing it gently. “It means a lot”.

“Sure, sun” he says not looking at me but squeezing my hand back, his attention on the road. I notice his hand is a bit sweaty. He’s nervous.

“It will be alright. They will like you” I reassure him, confident in my words. There’s nothing not to like about Matt: he’s a kind soul, he just needs to be more open to let the rest of the world see it as well. He hums the tune of the song that’s playing on the radio, and I understand he doesn’t want to continue the conversation. I lay back against the seat and enjoy the rest of the ride with him, knowing he needs silence to relax completely. He doesn’t let go of my hand, though.

We arrive at the right address and he parks the car a bit far away from the house. He kills the engine and doesn’t move to open the car door.

“You don’t have to, if you’re not comfortable” I say calmly, smiling softly at him. He turns his gaze to meet mine, and I can see the anxiety in his eyes. “I won’t force you to do something you don’t want, Matt. We can go home, watch some movie” I suggest, not able to hide the bit of disappointment in my voice. He notices it.

“No, it’s alright. We’re here anyway” and he gets out of the car. I can’t shake off the feeling he’s forcing himself to do this. That’s not what I want. Reluctantly I exit the car and reach his side as we walk towards the house. I take his hand in mine for reassurance, both his and mine, and we enter the already full house together.

Immediately the smell of smoke reaches us. I wrinkle my nose as we make our way through the living room, looking for the host. We find her in the kitchen, two beers in hand.

“You came!” She yells as soon as she sees me, making her way through the multitude of bodies that stand between us. I laugh happily at her outburst and her wobbly walk and immediately greet her with a hug, letting go of Matt’s hand.

“Of course! How could I miss it?” I ask grinning widely. I move back a step to be next to Matt again. “This is my boyfriend, Matt!” I introduce him to my friend, and she screeches about the fact that she’s been dying to meet him. I sense Matt flinching but my friend doesn’t notice. I do, though. He’s uncomfortable.

“We’ll just take something to drink, is that alright? Then we can catch up later” I tell my friend as I grab two cokes from the ice bucket. She voices her agreement before she shrieks again as soon as she sees another girl that played volleyball with us in school. With that she leaves us. I turn to look at Matt.

“Did you like her?” I ask hopefully. He shrugs. “She yells a lot,” he deadpans. My shoulders sag, knowing this would be his answer but hoping he would say something else.

He senses my disappointment and takes my hand once again. “Sorry, sun. I’m trying” he says, his brows furrowed and his blue eyes sincere. I soften, knowing this is hard for him. He’s doing it for me. I smile and get on my tiptoes to peck his lips softly. “I know,” I whisper.

Sometime later we make our way to the garden, where a bunch of different seats are spread all around on the grass. We sit down on a sofa where one of my old schoolmates invited us to. He was on the baseball team, if I remember well. We never really connected during school, but we were always at the same social gatherings, somehow. Tonight, he’s as drunk as one can be and suddenly considers me one of his oldest and dearest friends.

“And then, oh, then remember when they dared you to jump into the neighbors pool, and you actually did that?” He asks loudly and I giggle nervously, remembering I was a bit wild in my early teens. “Yeah, well, they called the cops after” I remember bashfully.

“You never told me this story,” Matt says. I blush. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t one of my best moments” I admit embarrassed. Why do I feel so awkard? He’s my boyfriend, he knows me and he knows this happened years ago. I feel like I’m trying to make a good impression on him.

“This is just one of many, Matt!” Liam laughs. “She was a beast! You couldn’t stop her” I eye him carefully, not liking where this is going.

“You’re exaggerating” I try to joke, starting to feel a bit uncomfortable. Liam scoffs. “Exaggerating? Nah. I was there! And if I remember it right, you never gave a fuck about what others thought. What’s changed?” He asks playfully. I feel Matt stiffen.

“Nothing. I just don’t do this staff anymore” I deadpan, my face set in a stoic expression. I don’t like this conversation, I don’t like this party anymore.

“Whatever, you’re no fun” Liam scoffs, his attention on me finally over. He turns around to find his next victim and I worriedly turn to look at Matt, but I find his expression extremely calm.

“Everything ok?” I ask tentatively, and he turns to look at me quizzically.

“Yeah? I’m not a child who’s never interacted with the world” he spits, rather brutally. He’s upset, he doesn’t like my friends.

“Well, sorry I asked then” I bite back, turning away from him as another one of my old acquaintances calls my name. I chat with her for a long time, forcing myself to laugh at her jokes and smile at the right moments, trying to ignore the gloomy boy next to me.

This is ridiculous. I told him he wasn’t obligated to come with me. Now he’s here and he’s trying to make me feel like shit? I’m not having it. I can’t be ashamed of who I am and was: this is part of me, and if he doesn’t like it, I haven’t chained him so that he can’t leave whenever he likes.

Matt bounces his leg, making the whole sofa tremble, and I grow rapidly irritated. I feel overwhelmed by everything that’s happening: the people that were part of my daily life once felt like strangers now, the stories they’re telling are making me feel self conscious, and the glares I sense from Matt are making me mad. I get up abruptly, Matt follows.

“Something wrong?” He asks, suddenly worried. Oh, so now that he got what he wanted he’s suddenly worried about me?

“I want to leave” I say flatly, making my way to the door. He quickly comes after me, trying to keep up with my pace. Once we’re inside his car and he starts the engine, I feel his gaze on me.

“Were you not having fun?” He asks, and I almost believe he’s oblivious to how he made me feel tonight.

“No, drive” I mutter, my cheek against the window. He doesn’t say anything as he wordlessly drives towards his house.

“I want to sleep at my house tonight” I say, hearing him take a breath.

“Why?”

“I just want to”

“Your things are at my place, though”

“I’ll get them tomorrow”

“Sun, can you tell me what I did wrong?” He asks, his voice pleading.

Why do I feel like crying? I should be angry, instead I’m just ashamed. I haven’t felt like tonight in a while.

“Are you serious?” I whisper, turning to look at him. He senses my discomfort and quickly pulls over, killing the engine and turning his head to look at me.

“What’s wrong?” He asks again, his brow raised.

“All night, you acted like I forced you to come with me! You kept puffing and huffing all the time. I was afraid to say the wrong thing and piss you off!” I outburst, my cheeks red and my eyes watery.

Matt stays silent for a while, waiting to see if I have something else to say. I don't. Once he realizes this, he lets out a breath.

“Can I speak now?” he asks. I nod, my eyes on the road in front of us.

“I’m sorry you felt this way, sun. I tried to enjoy it. It was just too much. I felt overwhelmed by all the people there. And honestly I also felt stupid” he confesses.

“What? Why?” I ask, furrowing my brows.

“Because I feel like you don’t tell me things? I don’t know, it feels like you're always walking on eggshells around me.” he explains. I widen my eyes at his words. What is he talking about?

“I don’t know what you mean” I say defensively. He scoffs.

“Right. I feel like you don’t tell me things about your past. Why is that?”

“Because of how you’re acting now” I raise my voice.

“And how am I acting?”

“Like you’re accusing me of something!” I snap, tears in my eyes. This is escalating way too far. And I know it’s my fault: he’s trying to explain himself while I’m being all defensive. I can’t help it. I don’t want him to change his view of me, but I feel like I’m slipping away.

“Hey, kid, calm down” he mumbles.

“Don’t call me kid.” I hate when he does that. He rests his head against the seat and closes his eyes. I watch him, scared he’s had enough of me.

“Matt…” I whisper to get his attention. I have to explain myself as well. “Sometimes… I’m ashamed. I don’t like some things I did when I was younger, I know they were careless. I didn’t want you to think less of me if you knew” I admit. He tilts his head in that sweet way of his, a small smile on his lips. “What?” I ask, baffled. He shakes his head.

“C’mere” he murmurs, gesturing to come closer. Slowly, I climb over the console with his help and finally rest my legs on each side of his. He holds me by my waist and pulls me closer. I let him.

“Sun, you need to stop doing this” he says distractedly, fingers tracing my hip bone.

“Do what?” I ask, my eyes transfixed on his long fingers.

“Assuming things about me. Thinking I’ll get tired of you just because you never shut up” I lift my head rapidly, ready to snap at him again that if he doesn’t like my yapping, he can always leave me, but I see him grinning widely as his fingers start to tickle me.

I snort very unlady-like and try to free myself from his grasp, failing miserably when he stops my futile attempts by kissing me. I mumble something intelligible as his lips press against mine over and over again, effectively shutting me up. I sigh into the kiss as my arms wrap around his neck, my fingers toying with his soft hair.

His hands never stop touching me: my shoulders, my neck, my back, until they rest again on my hips, his fingertips grazing my butt.

“Sleep with me tonight” He murmurs as he trails kisses down the column of my neck, his voice husky and his warm breath making me shiver.

“You don’t really wanna sleep at yours, right, pretty girl?” he asks, biting down my shoulder gently. I let out a whine at the pet name, shaking my head slowly.

“I thought you had enough of me for the day” I admit pathetically. He tuts and shakes his head, a smirk on his lips. “You think a lot, don’t you?” he mocks me as one of his hands trails my chest, feather-like touch making me squirm.

“Shut up” I breathe when he finally cups one of my breasts through my top, his fingers gently tracing my erect nipple. He laughs quietly, seeing the reaction he has on me. Then, after one last kiss to my lips, he lets go of me, leaving me hot and bothered while he seems completely fine and ready to drive back to his place. I try to even my breathing as I watch him, his expression betrays his controlled demeanor. He still has that damn smirk on him, he knows I can’t wait to get home. His hand rests on my thigh, squeezing it gently every once in a while.

“I don’t think less of you, just so you know” He breaks the silence of the car ride. I don’t say anything, my hand placed over his. “I’m serious, sun. I just wanted to hear about your past from you, not someone else.” he explains. I nod, a big weight lifting from my shoulders.

“I’m sorry I overreacted” I answer, feeling awful that my fears overpowered me tonight, clouding my sense of judgment.

“‘s fine” he smiles, patting my thigh. He parks the car and waits for me before walking towards his front door. His brothers are probably asleep by now, but we try to be quiet anyway. He opens the door for me and as I pass by him, I feel his hand slapping my ass quickly. I turn around to tell him to stop or else his brothers will wake up but in a second he’s on me: hands on my jaw to turn my face up as his lips slot over mine, his tongue sliding into my mouth.

He effectively shuts up every protest I had, as I blindly walk back into his house, his sure steps guiding me. If he makes me trip I’ll seriously be pissed. But he doesn’t. I don’t even realize it but we’re in his room, the door locked behind us.

He walks me towards his bed, trying at the same time to kiss me and to take off my top. He struggles a bit and I laugh, squeaking right after when he spanks me again. “Matthew, I swear if you don’t quit it-”

“What? I’m curious, what will you do?” he asks as he finally manages to get my top out of the way. As always, his eyes trail down to my exposed chest. It doesn’t matter how many times he sees me, he always acts like it’s the first time. I blush at his serious gaze, my hands trailing on his waist to get rid of his sweater as well.

“Cat got your tongue?” He laughs teasingly and I scoff, my hand pushing his chest away from me. He doesn’t let me get far though as his arms lift me off the ground making me yelp. A second later, my back meets the softness of his dark sheets, him soon following after me.

“Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen” he mumbles under his breath, making me squirm under him.

“Come here” I urge him, my arms pulling him down towards me. He lets me, his hot lips peppering my face with kisses making me giggle and turn away from him. “Stop!” my laugh turns into a whine when he presses his hips against mine, making me feel how hard he actually is and effectively changing the mood. I try to breathe normally as I spread my legs to give him room, my skirt rising up on its own accord. Matt pushes it out of the way so that my panties are on full display for his hungry gaze.

“Let’s see...” He mumbles as his fingers trace the cotton material. He looks up at me in mock surprise. “Who made you this wet?” he asks, voice husky.

“Bloody Santa Claus” I joke, rolling my eyes. He doesn’t smile, though, just shakes his head.

“Do I have to gag you?” He asks rhetorically. I shake my head, giggling. “Sorry, my love” he smiles softly at the pet name and moves his hand under my panties, making me gasp at the sudden gesture. My breath speeds up as his agile fingers find my clit easily, making small quick circles just the way I like it.

I moan wantonly as I try to keep my eyes open to watch him, on his knees between my legs with his hair now messy from my fingers. His other hand slowly caresses my face, his thumb on my bottom lip, making me slightly open my mouth. I kiss his digits one by one and take his thumb in my mouth, sucking it gently and hollowing my cheeks a bit, my eyes staring directly at his.

“Fuck” He groans at the sight, one of his fingers probing at my entrance.

“‘Gotta stretch you out a bit, pretty girl” He informs me like I’m not aware of the fact I need some preparation to be able to take him. I nod furiously as his long finger enters me slowly, making me get used to the sensation before starting to move in and out of me. Soon it’s two fingers, all the while his thumb never stopped working on my clit. I grab his biceps as I try to muffle my moans of pleasure.

“Matt, please…” I whimper, eyes screwed shut as I feel the coil on my stomach grow more and more, my legs moving uncontrollably.

“What do you need?” He asks me, his lips next to my ear as he keeps his ministrations going. He’s trying to sound calm but his cock pressing up against my thigh lets me know how excited he actually is.

“You know what I need” I breathe as he pumps his fingers faster.

He furrows his brows and I can sense what he’s thinking. Before I can say anything, he stops his movements, his fingers still inside me. I whine disappointed. “Why did you stop?” I ask, trying to move my hips up to gain some friction.

“You didn’t answer me, so I just figured I had to stop” he teases me, making me roll my eyes. He wants to hear me beg.

“Come on, my love, please” I say sweetly, lifting my head up to kiss the corner of his mouth. “I need you” I pant to his ear. “I was so close” and I end it all biting his lobe, knowing this would send him to another planet. He gasps, his fingers give an involuntary thrust that makes me squeal.

“Yeah?” He asks gruffly. I hear the sound of a zip as he shimmies his pants down his legs until he kicks them away. My hands immediately go to his hips, still covered by his boxers. One trails to the front, where his dick is hard and aching. He must be uncomfortable, restrained like that: I decide to be kind and help him, taking his cock out of its confines. Matt lets out a breath of relief as I start to steadily stroke his length.

He slowly lowers his hips to mine and slots his cock between my folds, making me gasp when his tip hits my clit repeatedly as his hips rock back and forth. I raise my legs and interlock them behind his back, pulling him flush against me.

“Matt, I want it” I moan breathlessly, my hands on his hair.

“Yeah? Want my cock in your pretty pussy?” he asks me, panting slightly from the stimulation. I nod furiously, not wanting to wait anymore.

“See? It was easy to admit” Before I can think of some snarky remark, he aligns his cock with my center and slowly pushes in, effectively making me forget anything I was about to say.

I feel him stretching me out so good, and I try to relax my muscles to ease his access. Matt’s brows are furrowed in concentration. Even with our banter, he’s always very attentive not to hurt me. I smile fondly at his expression and kiss his forehead, making him halt for a moment, his eyes bright.

“I’m so in love with you” I whimper sincerely, taken by sudden emotion. He smiles back and kisses my lips slowly, his hips starting to move. I whine into the kiss, my hips lifting up trying to be at his same pace. His arms cage me and I feel so safe, so happy to be with him, in his bed.

“You have no idea how much I adore you” He moans against my shoulder, his hips going faster and faster, making my head spin. His hand slips down to play with my clit once again, making me see stars. My legs tremble once again around him, a tell tale of the fact I’m about to cum.

“Will you come around my cock, pretty girl?” he pants as he doubles his efforts to get me there. I moan in response and he laughs, kissing my temple.

“Come on, baby, I know you’re there. Wanna feel you” he mutters, and I know he’s close as well. With one last hard thrust I feel my orgasm crash through me, my whines muffled by Matt’s mouth on mine.

“Shit. Squeezing me so tight” he groans, and I feel his dick twitch inside me as he lets out a long moan. He stills his movements when he comes, his eyes screwed shut as I hug him tightly against my chest, praising him in his ear. He tries to even his breathing as I trace patterns on his back, and we both lay silently on his bed in complete bliss.

Some time later he slowly pulls out of me, making me shiver slightly. He grabs a glass of water from his bedside table and offers it to me, and I gladly accept it, gulping it down. We set under the covers, his head on my chest and his arms around me.

He laughs suddenly. “What?” I ask, confused. He smirks, looking up at me.

“Who would have guessed the only way to shut you up was to fuck you?” He asks proudly.

“Matthew I swear to God-”

a/n: feedback is greatly appreciated! :)

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #matt x reader #chris x reader #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut #matt smut

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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 1 year ago

Text

Clownfall: Endgame

I am calling it that in the full knowledge that batshit things may yet happen, but listen. Listen. We have a year left before the general election. I am hedging my bets and assuming all that comes in that year will be Tory manoeuvring ahead of that. Let's all hope for a nice quiet year in which everything can fall neatly under that banner, that won't ruin this naming convention.

Previous Reading

Important Terminology - Required Reading

What is a Whip?

How do Whips work?

Shadow Cabinet

Front Benchers, Back Benchers and the Cabinet

What do we need to call an early General Election?

The Adventures of Big Dog the Clown - Suggested Reading

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Elanor’s Guide to Liz Truss - Suggested Reading

Character-based prequel

The Premiership of Liz Truss

The Next Steps - Suggested Reading

The post-Truss contenders

Bye Matt

BoJo Resigns as MP

Alright, that's probably everything. Just nice to have it all in one place, innit? If you would like a nice soothing soundtrack to your reading, here's my recommendation. On with the show!

Clownfall: Endgame

Wednesday

So, let's start with charismatic and charming Home Secretary Suella Braverman! You may remember her from such hits as "Quitting before she could be fired after breaking the law only to be rehired by Sunak almost immediately and without consequence to appease the right wing nutjobs in the party", and "Claiming Pakistani men have a culture that makes them work in abuse rings to target vulnerable white English girls" (I should add that, if you are unfamiliar with Suella Braverman, regardless of what that quote implies, she is not, in fact, white); recently she made the news because she announced that being homeless is a "lifestyle choice". So true, Suella! They could give it up any time they wanted. They could, for example, get together and break in and steal your fucking house.

But in particular, here we're focussing on her recent stance towards the multiple huge pro-Palestine marches that have been taking place in London. So far she has indicated that she wants people who wave Palestinian flags to be arrested, so that's very measured and rational of her; but, last Wednesday (Nov 8th), she decided to write a lil opinion piece in the Times all about how mean and biased and liberal the police are. This is an absolutely fascinating assertion to I suspect literally anyone who has ever been involved with the police. But no! Quoth Suella, aggressive right-wing protesters are "rightly met with a stern response", while "pro-Palestinian mobs" are "largely ignored".

And, she claims, the march on Saturday isn’t simply a cry for help for Gaza, but an "assertion of primacy by certain groups - particularly Islamists - of the kind we are more used to seeing in Northern Ireland".

Imagine how well all that went down.

Thursday

You are underestimating how that went down, because it emerges that Suella deVille did not, in fact, get any form of validated sign-off or permission from Number 10 before squirting her ill-informed liquid horseshit all over the front desk of the Times news room, and that, Tumblrs, you'll be surprised to learn, is actually quite an important and compulsory part of criticising the police when you are the Home Secretary. Like, there is a Ministerial Code about this. It is very clear. It is in Article 8.2, Tumblrs. Thou Shalt Have Permission From Number 10 Before Making Media Interventions.

“The content was not agreed with Number 10,” a spokesperson for Prime Minister Rishi Sunak told reporters, referring to the prime minister’s Downing Street office. The ministerial code is clear that any ministerial media interventions need approval from No 10.

-AlJazeera

And the Tories are furious! The bloodbath forms quickly and loudly and the hounds start baying! Clown noses are flying everywhere! The factions are drawn! Because even now, there are Tories too stupid to understand that whether you agree with someone or not they still have to follow the rules! Also the other parties realise they can offer some actual opposition here, given that Suella has essentially dragged a barrel into the middle of the House of Commons dressed in a fish costume, handed around a set of loaded rifles, and then crawled inside to wait. The result is that the calls for her resignation are both deafening and pleasingly cross-party.

"(This is a) dangerous attempt to undermine respect for police", says Labour's shadow home secretary Yvette Cooper. "(It's) irresponsible," says London mayor Sadiq Khan. "The PM's weakness when it comes to standing up to Suella is the most shocking thing in all this," claims a senior Labour source.

They're wrong, of course. The most shocking thing is Liberal Democrat leader Sir Ed Davey realising he can actually appear in the paper if he plays this right and so surfaces to attempt some politics. "(Sunak) must finally act with integrity by sacking his out-of-control home secretary!" he declares, frightening many MPs who had forgotten he was even in the room with them.

Meanwhile, several Tories approach the BBC anonymously.

"The home secretary's awfulness is now a reflection on the prime minister. Keeping her in post is damaging him," says one. Another straight-up describes her as "unhinged". Another claims the comparison with Northern Ireland is "wholly offensive and ignorant", and really, all of this is permanently triggering that "Heartbreaking: the worst person you know just made a great point" reaction image.

Saturday

Hey, speaking of reaction images, look, Labour has a go:

Well. They tried.

BUT! Do you want to know the INTERESTING bit??!

Enter: Nadine Dorries! Mad shrieking pink harpy who spends her days maintaining a BoJo shrine in her bedroom! Always the most hinged of politicians, let's see what she has to say.

Former cabinet minister Nadine Dorries claimed Ms Braverman was trying to get sacked to give her a platform of martyrdom in service of the right-wing. "The competition is on now for who is going to be the leader of the opposition," Ms Dorries told the BBC.

???!??!?

PERTINENT POLITICAL OBSERVATION FROM DORRIES?!?!?? The most shocking part of this whole affair. Remember that time she yelled at a journalist during an interview about Boris Johnson's latest scandal when he asked her how Johnson was feeling about the whole thing and inadvertently implied they were having an affair when No One Asked? God, wonders never cease. She's even acknowledging the Tories can't win the next GE, look. I'd say this is growth, except I am 100% positive she's just being catty about BlowJo being fired again.

Anyway, the real Saturday issue: it's Armistice Day, and there's a pro-Palestine march planned.

Now, to give context, Armistice Day has a creepy level of patriotic state-worship attached to it in the UK. Some time in October everyone on telly suddenly starts wearing a poppy, and if you don't you get hanged, drawn and quartered by (a) the British press, and then (b) a baying mob outside your living room. You most be performatively sad. You must perform reverence and hero worship and say things like "Never again" all while whole-heartedly supporting current wars. You must talk about "our brave boys", and share the works of dead poets from the trenches, and then completely fail to absorb any of their lessons. If anyone tries to wear the white poppy to distance themselves from the current political appropriation while still commemorating the millions of conscripted casualties, you accuse them of being "woke" and pissing on the worthy dead of WW1. It's a whole thing, and politicians love using it as an excuse to point fingers and mock each other for being insufficiently patriotic if they wear the wrong tie to the ceremonies, or choose to walk with actual veterans rather than a head of the current army, or any number of other things. And then on November the 12th they'll order a drone strike or something.

So, off the bat, you can see how a pro-Palestine rally on the same day was likely to be seen as provocative to some.

"Some" included Sunak! He didn’t (publicly at least) ask the police to ban the protest, but did call on organisers to call it off, claiming the choice of date was “provocative and disrespectful”, because as I say, a march calling for the ceasefire of a genocide is super disrespectful to every sad dead poet in a trench who dreamed of a ceasefire so they could live, or something.

But the inevitable therefore happens, which is that far-right activists agree that it's disrespectful, and so decide to violently target the march to show their respect for the idea of peace on Armistice Day, or something.

Here's the planned route by the organisers:

Note, though, that the Armistice ceremony happens at the Cenotaph - visibly nowhere near the march. These two events actually wouldn't have overlapped, if it weren't for far-right protestors deliberately linking them to stop them being disrespectfully linked, or something.

And that's exactly what happened. From the Guardian:

Perhaps the most striking incident, though, was when far-right protesters charged past police who sought to hold them back from the Cenotaph. In this video, a man shouts “this is fucking our country” in celebration. Whereas the pro-Palestine march had been excluded from the area as a precaution, the far right was not; by overwhelming the police, they supposedly sought to defend the site from an enemy that simply wasn’t there.

(that's quite a good article of the whole thing, actually, I recommend giving it a read.)

Crucially to the clown show, though, several politicians and others accused Suella deVille of emboldening the far-right, which... well, several of the far-right protestors straight up said was the case on the day, so hard to disagree, really.

Rumours of a reshuffle in Whitehall circumnavigate the land so fast the truth gets sucked into a tornado and is declared MIA. Here's the thing! I've covered a few Cabinet reshuffles by now, Tumblrs, you know the drill. Reshuffles are always deniable until they actually happen – so if, say, a reshuffle was going to happen on Monday 13 November 2023, there’d be no need to publicise it in advance. That way, if things change and politics happen, you don't need to retract anything :)

Because, remember: reshuffles are always controversial. Yes, some people get demoted, and those people will often kick off, and some people who don't deserve it get promoted, and lots of people kick off. But the big thing is that a lot more people get overlooked for promotion.

His most ardent supporters would say that Rishi Sunak is a cautious man (if you'll allow me a moment to express my own view on the matter, Tumblrs, if you'll forgive this crumb of personal opinion amongst my otherwise impeccable journalling of greatest integrity, I once did a teambuilding task with my students where they had to build the best possible bridge out of uncooked spaghetti and pieces of marshmallow, and I personally would liken the structural integrity of his spine to the losing team's entry), and reshuffles will spread a lot of disappointment to Tory MPs who lose – or fail to gain – a cabinet position.

So, all in all... regardless of Suella's idiocy...

There's no guarantee of a reshuffle. Rumours are just that - whether they prove to be true or not remains to be seen.

Week Commencing Monday 13th November, 2023

New week, new challenges! And it's going to be a big week this week. On Wednesday (tomorrow, at time of writing), three big things are going to be announced, and these announcements will colour everything else this week:

One. The Supreme Court decide whether the government will be allowed to enact their plan to send some migrants claiming asylum in the UK to Rwanda, a signature Braverman plan that human rights campaigners (including many in Rwanda) have been trying to block for ages.

It’s a massive deal anyway – a flagship government idea that’s been bogged down in the court, and we’ll finally have an answer one way or another. For what it’s worth, the Tories aren’t confident about winning it, either. The optimists among them reckon it’s a 50/50 chance, the pessimists reckon it’s 70/30 against, so it's iffy at best.

But here's the thing!

Plenty of Tories have always disliked Suella. Others could handle the odd outburst she has, but can’t stomach the sheer number of them lately - the Lib Dem non-entity man was absolutely right that she is rapidly growing out of control and just does not know when to shut the entire fuck up.

Which means! If the Supreme Court allows the Rwanda plan, Braverman could become emboldened, like a far-right protest injuring police officers to defend the cenotaph from people who are nowhere near it and have no interest in it. Do we want an emboldened Braverman?? Well; no, obviously. I also don't want dysentery, or rotten meat, or a serial killer in my neighbourhood. But it's a question even Tories are asking themselves, which is notable.

Plus, even if the court allows it, there will still be months of planning, and lawyers might still prevent the plans in the long run... But psychologically, the issue is this: the government wants this win, but probably doesn’t benefit from Braverman feeling victorious.

Two. We’ll get inflation figures. The government promised to halve inflation, and it seems likely they’ve managed this. Expect them to massively celebrate this, to distract from the promises they haven’t kept e.g. waiting lists in England, competent governance, etc.

Three. Voting on a ceasefire in Israel seems likely for Wednesday. It’s the SNP’s idea, and it won’t affect government policy (they won’t support a ceasefire – they claim it’ll empower Hamas).

But it’s a big deal for Labour, even more so than the Tories. A Shadow minister has already resigned over the war. A bunch of frontbenchers want a ceasefire, but that isn’t Keir Starmer’s policy, a man who is calling for the colours of the Israel flag to be shown at sports matches to show that "we stand in solidarity with Israel", because you can really count on Starmer to fuck up everything he touches. So what do they do? Abstain? Claim they had a prior commitment?? We might see more resignations, basically. Big day for Starmer.

So! With all that in mind...

Monday

8.43am

Oh look. Timestamps are back. I wonder if that suggests anything?

Suella Braverman is sacked as Home Secretary.

But! Sunak is accused of waiting too long! Which he demonstrably did!

He should have made the decision after the illegal article that she shouldn't have written and triggered a far-right rally on fucking Armistice Day. Instead, remember that 'cautious' descriptor I talked about?? He waited until the tide had turned against her completely, and now looks like he (a) was too much of a useless wimp to fire her until he was sure people would still like him and pat his dick and tell him he's a Good PM, and (b) only fired her because he caved in to that appalling lefty liberal cabal that somehow these days includes the Metropolitan Police of all fucking people, and she'd have been able to stay otherwise.

Shout out to the best comment from Reddit:

u/nowonmai666: Doesn't she normally get sacked on a Friday so she can have the weekend off before being reappointed?

Anyway, that's the big risk now: Braverman’s supporters can claim she was only fired because Sunak caved in to the left.

8.56am

Tory MP Andrea Jenkyns claims Sunak only sacked Braverman because he caved in to the left.

9.00am

Neil O'Brian, Pharmacy Minister, quits to live out his stated dream of being a back-bencher with less power.

*sus*

9.09am

Nick Gibb, Schools Minister, quits to live out his stated dream of being more diplomatic, or something.

*sus*

9.42am

The Lib Dems decide to build on the success of their leader getting to be on telly for his one comment on Thursday and call for a general election. Says Ed Davey: “It was the Prime Minister’s sheer cowardice that kept her in the job even for this long. We are witnessing a broken party and a broken government, both of which are breaking this country.”

Good job! They're having such a good few days.

Anyway remember the Tories don’t have to have a general election until December 2024, though, thanks to the Fixed-term Parliaments Act (2011), which was passed by the coalition government of Tories and, um, Lib Dems. In which Ed Davey served for three years.

Hmm.

9.43am

James Cleverly (remember him?) returns to the Cabinet and is appointed Home Secretary. The party attempts to appear trendy by experimenting with emojis:

This appointment is probably because Tory strategists wanted him in a domestic role to help the party’s chances in the next election; as Surprising Political Pundit Nadine Dorries told us, of all fucking people, the race is now on to lead the opposition.

But hey, this is not likely to lead to any more changes -

10.03am

FORMER PRIME MINISTER, BREXIT-TRIGGERER AND PIG-FUCKER DAVID CAMERON BECOMES FOREIGN SECRETARY

!!!!!!!!!!!!

And look! Another emoji! They're so hip!

(Side note... the balls on this one are astounding, actually. The UK political system has been in chaos ever since Cameron, and he was the first domino. This is not a well-loved former hero that will be greeted warmly by the unwashed masses.)

Awkward though, since just last month Sunak claimed that we’d lived through “30 years of a political system that incentivizes the easy decision, not the right one.” It would be a terrible shame if a journalist was to ask David Cameron whether he agreed with the Prime Minister on that, given that Cameron’s job is to support the Prime Minister now.

Especially since Cameron took to Twitter last month to explicitly criticise Sunak for breaking the Tory promise to deliver High Speed 2.

(Cameron tweeted this criticism last month. Labour MP Angela Rayner however promptly retweets it now lol suck a dick Dave, but try a human one this time)

Also, fun fact, Cameron has just come out of a large-scale lobbying and corruption scandal. Given the state of Sunak, though, that's actually probably what got him the job.

BUT!!! Here's an even funner fact: the man is not an MP. He left politics after he accidentally triggered Brexit and then it came out he'd once face fucked a dead pig's head while it was held on the lap of another Tory; he's been living it up in the lucrative world of after-dinner speaking, as these people do.

So can you do that?? Can you hold a Cabinet position if no one at all has voted for you??

Yes, turns out.

Don't be alarmed by that, though:

But, convention holds that anyone who becomes a Cabinet member while not being an MP needs to be a Peer - that way, if they do bad and naughty things, they can't be held accountable by the House of Commons but they can be held accountable by the House of Lords. Only problem is, Hameron is not a lord...

10.13am

The reshuffle, bafflingly, continues. Jeremy Hunt will remain as chancellor.

For the first time since 2010, the top four positions in government – Prime Minister (Sunak), Chancellor of the Exchequer (Hunt), Home Secretary (Cleverly) and Foreign Secretary (Cameron) – are all held by men.

10.18am

Lots of people tweeting about the historic context of Cameron’s appointment. Here’s my favourite:

10.48am

David Cameron is given a life peerage, so his proper name now is Lord Piggledick.

10.52am

Health secretary Will Quince quits. He wasn’t planning to stand for re-election anyway though, so this one is probably not a shock. But it's important that no one else resi-

11.04am

Decarbonisation minister Jesse Norman resigns.

...

Time for a

✨Conspiracy Theory✨

Between Quince and Norman – as well as Neil O’Brien and Nick Gibb – we’re seeing several mid-ranking ministers resign, despite being generally regarded as fairly competent.

It’s possible they were fired in private, and they’re publicly resigning to save face. But here’s another theory.

MPs aren’t allowed to seek commercial employment for six months after resigning from the government.

So hypothetically, if you were going to lose your seat in a general election, you’d want to have resigned six months earlier so you can still get a job.

If that’s what these guys are doing, it suggests we’re on track for a May 2024 election...?

11.05am

11.12am

Remember Cameron's financial scandal? Quick background here: David Cameron was specifically vice-chair of a £1bn China-UK investment fund.

So let’s see what throwback former leader Iain Duncan Smith thinks of Cameron’s return:

“I am astonished at this appointment. It seems to send a signal to China that we are pursuing business with them at all costs and any costs. Those who have been sanctioned now feel more abandoned than at any time. Those facing genocide and persecution will feel more abandoned than at any time.”

I cannot believe I am about to say this.

But.

I agree with Iain Duncan Smith *spits on floor*

11.50am

Former Tory deputy prime minister Lord Heseltine is asked to sum up the return of Cameron, and says it’s the “clearest signal that the sort of right wing lurch that we’ve seen and the anti-European movement that we’ve seen has been put to bed, and that will get a message across to people”.

12.13pm

A Tory MP is worried that Cameron’s return will turn back the clock on Brexit and Johnson’s election.

“It is very alarming. I am predicting a softening on small boats, a softening on legal migration. I would not be surprised if the ban on conversion therapy returns.”

... Don’t threaten me with a good time.

Anyway, let’s see how the public actually sees Cameron compared with other PMs!

Yeah, not sure people will mind if Cameron’s not Boris Johnson.

12.43pm

ITV political editor Robert Peston walks past a minister of state. The minister’s on the phone, but takes a moment to heatedly shout at Peston, “The PM just sacked me!”

I guess some days are easier than others as a journalist

12.47pm

Therese Coffey resigns as environment secretary!!!!

*choirs of heavenly angels sing*

You'll remember her of course, Tumblrs - she was one of the thugs manhandling people into the 'right' voting lobbies to force their vote on the day of Liz Truss' fracking law. Rumour has it she still has the Whip handle in her ass.

A lot of people seem to be resigning today! But don't be fooled. In almost every case, it’ll be because they were told to resign. They’ve been sacked, but they resign to save face. A last mercy from their benevolent leader.

My guess: Tessie here is terrible at media skills, so – get rid of her before she hurts general election chances. This, too, is a pattern.

12.52pm

Rachel Maclean sacked as Housing Minister! Fun fact, numbers fans: it took Doctor Who 33 years to make it to eight Doctors, but since the 2019 election, the Tories managed eight Housing Ministers in just under 4 years

trololol

1.15pm

Jeremy Quin quits as Minister for the Cabinet Office.

1.37pm

Times Political Editor Steven Swinford reports that No 10 is struggling to find a new housing minister (owing to rumours the job is cursed). Several people have turned it down, including Jeremy Quin. It is incredible to me that they didn't line someone up before sacking the last guy.

Kemi Badenoch and Michael Gove are apparently unhappy that Rachel Maclean was removed from the role. I for one do not care about the opinions of Kemi Badenoch or Michael Gove.

2.04pm

Health Secretary Steve Barclay becomes Environment Secretary. This is effectively a demotion for him. It is our 5th Environment Secretary in four years. Chasing that Housing Minister record! It took 19 years for Doctor Who to have five Doctors

2.15pm

Richard Holden appointed new Conservative Party chairman.

A 2019-intake Tory MP, he led the charge against Sir Keir Starmer over Beergate, which did damage Starmer a bit (albeit not much, given that it turned out Starmer had complied with lockdown regs, and the accusation was nakedly to try and distract from Partygate). So this appointment looks like more strategy to win the next election - someone not known enough to be hated, with what passes in the modern Tory party for a proven track record.

This could be a sign that the Tories intend to at least try to shore up the Red Wall votes? As unlikely as the Tories are to keep those seats.

That said, Holden’s seat disappears in a boundary change next election, sooooo … we'll see what they do there.

2.24pm

Victoria Atkins appointed Health Secretary, replacing Steve Barclay who’s moved to Environment Secretary. She's a relative unknown but also considered actually competent. Massive middle finger to Steve Barclay

2.37pm

Laura Trott (formerly in pensions) promoted to Chief Secretary to the Treasury.

2.42pm

Science minister George Freeman resigns.

3.18pm

YouGov conducts a snap poll: is the appointment of David Cameron as Foreign Secretary a good decision or a bad decision?

Good decision: 24%

Bad decision: 38%

Don't know: 38%

So that's going well

3.24pm

Greg Hands is made a business minister after losing the Tory chairman role.

John Glen moves from chief secretary to the Treasury to become the Minister for the Cabinet Office and Paymaster General.

3.39pm

With Cameron being a Lord now, he’ll be based in the House of Lords rather than the Commons. The most recent Cabinet Minister to be based in the Lords was former Brexit minister Lord Frost, who did weigh in on the matter:

“[T]hough I was not running a whole Department too. I don’t think it works well to have a lead Cabinet Minister answering questions and defending their Department solely in the Lords. The Lords is not a fully party political environment - nor should it be - and voters are owed proper political scrutiny. In our system, that can only happen in the Commons.”

I cannot believe I am about to say this.

But.

I agree with Lord Frost *spits on floor*

The SNP had already called this out, with MP Stephen Flynn claiming, “The UK is not a serious country.”

4.21pm

Conservative MP Lee Rowley appointed the 16th housing minister in the past 13 years. Even counting David Tennant twice, that's more than all the Doctors Who we've ever had, and that took almost 60 years.

5.16pm

Sky News’s Tamara Cohen reports that Sunak sacked Braverman by phone this morning! Downing Street says there won’t be any exchange of letters between them - this is almost unheard of. Politics runs on paper trails! Everything happens through formal letters! By phone!

It means we’re denied insight into their differences. But Cohen reckons we’re likely to hear from Braverman on Wednesday, as the Supreme Court rules on the Rwanda scheme.

6.03pm

Tory MP Andrea Jenkyns, former Education Minister, submits no-confidence letter in Rishi Sunak.

It's almost like, in the absence of Dorries, she's decided that someone needs to step up and have a tantrum and that someone might as well be her. It is, actually, an extremely funny letter, as these letters go. Normally they're written with a sort of furious earnestness wrapped in formal language. I presume that Andrea Jenkyns MP, former Education Minister, was aiming for something similar, and the first paragraph manages it. But by the end you sort of start to wonder if this was supposed to be a letter she wrote with her therapist to get her feelings out:

My favourite line, when pulled in isolation, is "Yes Boris Johnson, the man who won the Conservative Party a massive majority, was unforgivable enough."

Yeah, Andrea babes. You're bang on there.

6.05pm

Esther McVey is appointed as Cabinet Office minister. Not a full cabinet member, but she will attend cabinet meetings.

This is notable: unlike a lot of today’s appointments, she’s on the right of the party. Her role will be to represent the government on TV and radio as much as possible, talking about gender/culture/British colonial history issues (i.e. she’s anti-woke and a screaming bigot).

In other words, with Braverman gone, McVey is an offering for the populist right of the party to try to appease them.

6.15pm

Sunak tweets about the new cabinet, claiming they’ll make “the right decisions for our great country, not the easy ones.” So it looks like that’s the new slogan, and we're pressing on with austerity

6.27pm

Tim Loughton, a Tory MP on the “One Nation” wing (i.e the David Cameron side) responds to Andrea Jenkyns’s letter of no-confidence by tweeting:

“Where can we submit a letter of no confidence in the Pantomime Dame?”

(It’s Andrea he’s publicly referring to as a pantomime dame there. A lil joke from the Tories for you)

6.31pm

Paul Scully sacked as minister for London. Didn't know that one was a position.

9.43pm

Sunak says that only a two-state solution will allow a new future for Israel/Palestine. This is, um, not what the Prime Minister of Israel wants. Who knows whether the Prime Minister of Israel will survive this crisis anyway – but these are big words from Sunak. Cameron’s influence? Maybe? Interesting either way

10.03pm

And then - PLOT TWIST!!!

According to ITV political editor Robert Peston, a senior government source reveals that Cameron was approached on TUESDAY.

Which means plans were underway to get rid of Braverman not only before the far-right violence on Saturday, but before her anti-police article on Wednesday. It seems she lost her job not because of what she said about police after all; but because she claimed homelessness was a lifestyle choice.

Well well.

11.05pm

And the day finishes with Andrea Leadsom back in government (as Under Secretary of State for Health and Social Care) which nobody saw coming! Pretty demeaning to the other 300 Tory MPs who could have been given this.

The final response from numerous Tories: they are feeling jilted and insulted because David Cameron being brought back when he's NOT EVEN AN MP, RISHI suggests that they themselves are not good enough to be in government.

No one tell them

#politik #clownfall: endgame

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suchananewsblog · 2 years ago

Text

Prince William and Kate Middleton take a stroll in Piers Park in Boston

The Prince and Princess of Wales took a harborside walk along Piers Park in Boston on Thursday with Boston Mayor Michelle Wu and Rev. Mariama White-Hammond, Chief of Environment, Energy, and Open Space. Earlier in the day the royal couple stopped by Roca Inc., a nonprofit north of Boston that strives to halt the cycle of incarceration, poverty, unemployment, substance abuse, pregnancy and racism…

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#Celebrities - English #en/lifestyle/us-news #Kate Middleton - English #Prince William - English #UK News #US News

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chosok-amo · 4 months ago

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꯱ ROTTEN, SO SPOILED! : U. HAJIME ꯱

summary : you are a spoiled girl, attend a well-known private school in your city, always having the best thing served on your plate, but always find your way to umemiya hajime, the delinquent in your city.

warning. cunnilingus, risky public space sex, unprotected sex, fingering, degrading, dirty talk, name-calling, praise kink.

wc. 8,7k ( sorry 😭 )

you walk through the vandalized hallways of furin high school, fuming with a box of bento in your left hand. the graffiti-covered walls and broken lockers only serve to amplify your anger. reaching the rooftop, you slam the door open, causing it to reverberate with a loud bang. the sound startles the furin students—sakura, suo, hiragi, kaji, nirei—who are busily gardening.

sakura, suo, nirei, hiragi, and kaji snap their heads toward you, eyes wide with surprise, while umemiya continues to calmly tend to the plants, seemingly unbothered by the commotion. you stride purposefully toward him, your anger palpable.

sakura, unable to contain his curiosity, turns to hiragi, the fourth king, and asks, “who is she?” hiragi glances at you, recognizing the fury in your eyes. “that's Y/N for you,“ he responds, his voice carrying a hint of amusement, throwing you a glance once before back to the plant on his hands, “she's here to see umemiya.”

you hurl the box of bento at the nearby plant, its contents scattering across the soil. “i don't want your bento!” you scream, your voice echoing across the rooftop. the other students gasp in shock, their eyes wide as they witness your outburst.

umemiya, however, remains calm. he continues to garden, his movements unhurried and composed, as if your anger doesn't faze him in the slightest. without looking up, he says with a hint of a smirk, “well, that's a waste of good food.” as you hurl the box of bento at the nearby plant, scattering its contents across the soil, the other students gasp in shock. their eyes widen as they take in the unexpected drama.

sakura stares in disbelief. “did she really just do that?” suo watches with raised eyebrows. “is this a regular thing?” and turning his head to unbothered hiragi and kaji. hiragi leans casually against the railing, watching casually. “oh, this is standard Y/N behavior, nothing new here.”

kaji, arms crossed and unbothered, playing with his phone, adds, “oh? yeah, umemiya’s been through this enough times, actually all of us. he’s taking it in stride, it's okay, just let them be.” as you continue to fume and umemiya calmly tidies up the mess, the other students look on with a mix of surprise and curiosity.

nirei decides to fill in the gaps. “i heard about her,” he begins with a playful tone. “Y/N’s is the daughter of some high-profile politicians. her entire life has been pretty much a red carpet.” sakura looks intrigued, looking at the orange-haired boy with the ‘bitch, english please’ expression before nirei continue, “red carpet? what do you mean?” sakura asks.

hiragi, knowing you a little bit more than the others answer, “ot means she’s been living in luxury. everything’s been catered to her—private schools, exclusive events, you name it. everything’s always been served to her on a silver platter.” kaji nods, throwing you a glance for a moment, “yeah, so when she doesn’t get her way, it’s like her personal universe has just exploded. that’s why she can be so dramatic.”

suo, now more interested, asks, “so her reactions are just a result of that lifestyle?” nirei nods enthusiastically. “exactly. i heard she’s used to everything being perfectly arranged for her, so when things don’t go as planned, she tends to react quite intensely.”

on the other end, you roll your eyes at umemiya nonchalant response, feeling a pang of irritation at his lack of reaction. “it's not about the food, you idiot,” you snap, crossing your arms petulantly. “it's about you constantly forcing unwanted attention on me.”

“i'm going to shove that entire bento down your throat if you keep giving me this, i don't even like bento.” the other students watch in a mix of surprise and intrigue, wondering how this scene will unfold. umemiya continues tending to his plants, undisturbed by your outburst, and his nonchalant attitude only serves to further rile you up.

his calm demeanor adds gasoline to the fire of your anger. “you're such an infuriating person,” you seethe, fists clenching at your side. “why do you insist on constantly pissing me off like this?” the other students exchange nervous glances, wondering if they should intervene or not. after a moment of tense silence, with only you glare at umemiya, who remains calm and composed. he finally turns to look at you, his gaze soft and his smile gentle. “are you done?” he asks in a soothing tone.

you respond by crossing your arms tightly over your chest, your expression one of stubborn defiance. with a dramatic sigh, you turn your head away, determined to ignore him. you sulk, your shoulders slumping as you pout, clearly not ready to let go of your frustration. the silence stretches as you continue to avoid his gaze, leaving umemiya to patiently wait for you to cool down.

despite your determination to maintain your anger, umemiya's calmness starts to chip away at your defenses. his gentle smile seems almost comforting, and his soft-spoken words send a strange flutter through your chest. you stubbornly continue to keep your gaze averted, refusing to acknowledge the effect he's having on you.

as the silence between you stretches on, you can feel your anger slowly giving way to a mixture of embarrassment and... curiosity? you resist the urge to glance at him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you weakened. your sulking seems to amuse him, which only fuels your irritation.

you can't stand the way he always maintains his composure and remains unruffled while you struggle to keep your emotions in check. the other students continue to watch the unfolding drama, unsure of what to do or say. finally, after a few moments of strained silence, you grumble, “i'm not going to apologize, you know.” umemiya chuckles lightly at your stubbornness, the sound sending another unfamiliar flutter through your heart. he rises to his feet, the bento box in hand, and walks towards you with calm, measured steps.

“oh, i don't expect you to apologize,” he replies with a hint of amusement. “you're far too prideful for that.” he stops a few feet away from you, his gaze gentle as he looks down at you. his eyes drift down to your skirt, and he notices you’re wearing the one he’s repeatedly advised against. It’s the same skirt he thinks is too short, exposing more of your thighs than he’s comfortable with.

his expression darkens, a frown forming as his displeasure becomes evident. with a hint of frustration and protectiveness in his voice, he says, “i’ve told you not to wear that, haven’t i?” your eyes widen in surprise at his sudden change in demeanor. you'd expect him to address your earlier outburst, not your choice of clothing. you bristle at his words, feeling both annoyed and a tinge of embarrassment.

“since when do you get to decide what i wear?” you snap back defensively, your hands on your hips. “it's my body, and i can wear whatever i damn well, thank you very much,” you end your sentence with rolling your eyes in annoyance.

umemiya turns to his friends with a friendly smile and says, “you guys can head out now. don’t worry about me— i’ll join you later,” his voice is warm and casual, putting them at ease.

as his friends nod and begin to leave, umemiya’s gaze shifts back to you. his smile fades, and his expression turns serious as he takes in the sight of the skirt you’re wearing. a frown back to settles on his face, clearly showing his disapproval. “i’ve told you not to wear that, haven’t i?” he says, his voice carrying a mix of frustration and protectiveness. “it’s not appropriate. i really wish you’d listen to me on this.”

you watch as his friends leave, your heart rate quickening with a mixture of anticipation and uncertainty. his serious expression makes you feel both challenged and vulnerable. his repeated insistence about your skirt makes you feel even more defiant. you tilt your head defiantly and meet his gaze head-on, refusing to back down. “why does it bother you so much about what i wear?” you ask, your words tinged with a hint of anger, “it's just a skirt, not some scandalous outfit.”

“it is scandalous enough for me, don't you see how every man sees you?” he walks closer to you, taking off his gloves and throwing them at the ground roughly. his words stung, igniting a mix of embarrassment and frustration in you. “so what if they look?” you reply defiantly, standing your ground. “i can't control what others think. why should I have to change for them?” your heart pounds in your chest, torn between wanting to stand up for your right to choose and the hint of validation you feels from his concern.

your mind races with a mixture of shock, confusion, and an undeniable thrill. the intensity in his eyes and the possessive tone in his voice simultaneously scare and excite you. his words, laced with both threat and promise, make your heart thump wildly against your chest. as his thumb gently brushes against your lip, you can't help but shiver at the electric sensation that courses through you.

his provocative statement hangs in the air, leaving you torn between conflicting desires. a part of you wants to push his buttons just to see what happens, but the other. . . is too captivated by his dominant manner.

“i can wear whatever i want,” your words are defiant and confident, challenging his possessiveness and the limits he's trying to impose. he smirks at your defiance, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features as you challenge his authority. “is that right?” he says, his voice is low, irritated and dangerous. “so you think you can just strut around in whatever you want, without any regard for my opinion on the matter? you clearly need to learn some respect.”

he takes a step closer, narrowing the distance between you until he's towering over you before with a swift movement, he pulls you towards the picnic bench near the door. “nobody comes up here unless i say so,” he declares, his voice echoing in the enclosed space. slamming the door shut behind him with a loud bang. the sudden isolation amplifies the tension between you, making the air seem thick with unspoken words.

“and you, my dear, are going to pay for your insolence,” sitting down, he positions you on his lap, straddling him effortlessly. one hand grips your wrist tightly, pinning it behind your body while the other travels down your body, tracing the curve of your hip before settling firmly on your thigh.

“you've been pushing your luck lately,“ he growls, leaning in close until his lips hover just inches from yours. “do you really want to provoke me further?” your heart beats a rapid tempo in your chest as you find yourself pushed onto the bench, pinned beneath him. his hand on your hip and the other on your wrist make you feel both dominated and exposed. the mix of fear and excitement causes your breathing to quicken, your body both wanting to resist and surrender at the same time.

you look up at him, trying to maintain a defiant glare but feeling the resistance in you slowly eroding. his nearness and his dominating presence make it hard to think straight. feeling your thighs against his lap makes you painfully aware of your vulnerable position. his eyes burn with a fierce intensity as he looks down at you, his grip on your wrist tightening slightly. he can feel your pulse racing, your body trembling beneath him, and it only serves to fuel his desire.

“i asked you a question,” he says, his voice low and menacing. “do you want to continue provoking me, or will you finally learn some respect?” he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “because if you don't back down now, I'll show you just how much power I hold over you. and trust me, you won't like the consequences.”

his free hand slides up your thigh, inching closer to the heat of your core. the touch is gentle yet possessive, a reminder of who's in control here. “choose wisely, my love.” your body betrays you, reacting to his touch and words in a way that conflicts with your defiant spirit. the feel of his breath against your ear makes you shiver, a mixture of fear and excitement coursing through your veins.

you try to gather your thoughts, to find the strength to resist, but his possessive hold on your wrist and his hand slowly sliding up your thigh make it difficult to focus. the conflicting desires between submitting to his dominance and maintaining your independence churn within you. your voice comes out as a soft gasp as you respond, “what... what will you do if i don't listen?”

a smirk curls the corners of his mouth as he watches the conflict play out on your face. his fingers continue their slow ascent, teasingly close to the warmth between your legs. “well, that depends,” he replies, his voice dripping with arrogance and confidence. “if you're smart, you'll realize that defying me isn't worth the trouble. but if you insist on being stubborn...” his grip on your wrist tightens, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you of his strength. he leans down, his lips hovering just above yours, teasing you with the promise of a kiss. “then i might have to take matters into my own hands.”

his hand finally reaches its destination, pressing firmly against your heat, a silent declaration of his ownership over you. the combination of his arrogant tone, his dominating grip on your wrist, and his possessive touch against your core sends a shiver down your spine. your breath hitches as he leans down, his lips hovering just above yours, teasing you with the promise of a kiss.

the mixture of desire and helplessness courses through you as he asserts his control. he presses against the heat between your legs, and a small gasp escapes your lips, betraying your body's response to his touch. you try to resist, to hold onto your defiance, but his dominance is overwhelming.

he smirks at your gasp, pleased with the effect he's having on you. his lips finally meet yours in a dominant kiss, claiming possession of your mouth as his tongue explores the depths of your mouth. as he kisses you, his hand on your core begins to move, rubbing against your sensitive flesh in a slow, deliberate motion. he breaks the kiss, looking down at you with a fierce gaze.

“now, let's see if you can still be stubborn after this,” he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. “sit on the table and open your pretty legs wider for me, my love.” he applies gentle pressure to your inner thighs, urging you to comply with his demand while him sitting on the bench. his free hand releases your wrist, allowing you to move freely, but the implication is clear— you have a choice to make, and the consequences of your decision will be significant.

he applies more pressure against your core, his fingers exploring the wetness that has gathered there due to his touch. the sound of your gasps fills the open space, adding to the erotic tension between you. “but let's not rush things,” he continues, his eyes locked on yours. “i want to savor this moment, to enjoy the sight of you squirming under my touch.”

he allows his thumb to slip past the barrier of your panties, feeling the slick heat of your arousal. a low chuckle escapes him as he teases your clit with slow circles, his fingers drenched in your juices. “that's it, my love,” he purrs, watching you squirm beneath his touch. “let go of your pride and enjoy this, you know you want it.” his thumb continues its torturous pace, driving you closer to the edge without ever reaching the climax you crave.

he positions himself between your spread legs, sitting in front of you as your fragile body hovering over him. his hand trails down your body once again, lingering on the curves of your hips before reaching between your thighs. this time, he doesn't tease— instead, he plunges two fingers deep inside you, stretching you deliciously after position your legs on his shoulder, wide open. “feel that?” he asks, his voice filled with pride and lust. “that's the power I hold over you.”

“u-ume . .” you plead, stuttered.

at the sound of your stuttered plea, he smiles, a predatory glint in his eye. his fingers curl inside you, hitting spots that make your toes curl and your back arch off the table. he increases the pressure, his movements becoming more purposeful. “you like that, don't you?” he taunts, his voice thick with desire. “my little flower blossoming under my touch.” his gray irises darken as he gaze leaving yours to look at your drenching cunt in front of his face before back to yours, smiling like the devil.

his thumb resumes its work on your clit, applying just enough pressure to keep you teetering on the brink of release. each thrust of his fingers pushes you closer, but he holds back, refusing to allow you the satisfaction you crave. he watches your face intently, drinking in every expression of pleasure and frustration. his fingers continue their relentless pace, driving you wild with need. just when you think you can't take anymore, he slows down, pulling his fingers out of you and leaving you aching for more.

“not yet, my love,” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin, against your thigh as his lips leaving a trail of burning sensation there. “i want you to beg for it first,” he leans in, his lips brushing against your cunt. “beg me to let you cum, and maybe, just maybe, i'll grant your wish.”

“please . . . i-i wanna cum,” your eyes glisten under the clear day, reflecting the man as you plead. his smirk widens at your plea, and he lets out a satisfied chuckle. he returns his attention to your swollen clit, circling it with renewed vigor. his fingers slide back inside you, filling you completely. “that's a good girl,” he praises, his voice dripping with lust. “now, tell me exactly how much you want it.”

with each word you utter, he increases the intensity of his touch, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. he wants to hear you beg, to know that you crave his touch as much as he craves you. your tiny hands grasping tightly around his wrist. “d-don't stop, please. . . ah! keep—” your lips throwing a tight line, along with your eyes closed hardly, long nails almost digging on his flesh. “hahh . . . hajime!”

your delicate fingers wrapped around umemiya's wrist. feeling your nails dig into his skin only fuels his desire further. he keeps up the relentless pace, his fingers moving in and out of you in a rhythm designed to drive you insane. with his other hand, he reaches down to cup your breast, pinching your nipple through the fabric of your shirt.

“that's it, moan my name,” he encourages, leaning forward to capture your lips in another searing kiss. as his tongue explores your mouth, his fingers find that sweet spot within you, pressing against it relentlessly. but he quickly pulls his fingers out the moment you close reach the edge, giving you false hope to cum. you moaning a protest, almost begging him to put his fingers back inside your cunt.

his fingers pause at the entrance of your pussy, just teasing you with the prospect of being inside you again. he pulls his hand away from your aching breast, leaving you cold and needy. “don't worry, my love,” he whispers, a devilish smile playing on his lips. “you're going to cum...but not until I'm ready.”

with that promise hanging in the air, he stands up, towering over you. his hand moves to undo his pants, freeing his hard cock that throbs with anticipation. he take of the blazer of your private-school uniform, throwing them mindlessly and snatch open your white shirt open without taking the shirt off, giving him a sight of a pair of your breasts, covered with pink lacy bra.

his eyes darken at the sight of your breasts, barely contained by the lacy material of your bra. he runs a finger along the edge of your bra strap, his touch sending sparks of pleasure across your skin. “mmm, you look beautiful like this,” he murmurs, leaning down to place soft kisses on the swell of your breasts.

“but i want more.”

without warning, he grips the bottom of your bra and pulls it down, exposing your nipples to the cool air of the open space. he takes a hardened peak into his mouth, suckling gently at first before increasing the pressure, making you arch your back towards him.

a low groan escapes him the moment your hand and land on his cock, wraps your fingers around to feel the heat. . . burning even, radiating from his skin. his cock twitches in your grip, already eager for more of your touch. “oh, you're playing with fire now,” he warns, his voice husky with desire. despite the warning, he continues to lavish attention on your breasts, alternating between gentle bites and soothing licks.

your ministrations seem to spur him on, and he begins to thrust subtly into your hand, seeking friction. the sensation of your soft palm stroking his hardness is intoxicating, and he finds himself growing harder with each pass.

“don't stop,” he begs, his hips rocking into your touch as he loses himself in the pleasure of your caress. the urge to claim you fully becomes overwhelming, and he knows he won't be able to hold back for much longer.

umemiya can't help but grunt as your fingers tighten around his throbbing member, coaxing out lewd sounds of pleasure from deep within his chest. your touch is a drug he can’t get enough of, drawing forth primal urges to possess and claim. fueled by your touch, he grows increasingly desperate, his hips bucking erratically into your hand. he pulls back from your breasts momentarily— panting heavily, looking down at you with darkened eyes full of lust, raw hunger and a hint of mischief.

“enough games,” he says, his voice rough with arousal. in a swift movement, he lifts you effortlessly off the table, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. with your back pressed against the wall, he aligns himself at your entrance. a single, powerful thrust sends him deep inside you, stretching and filling you completely. the sensation of being buried within you is overwhelming, and he groans deeply, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“oh fuck!” you almost scream, back arch away from the wall the moment in second his cock bottom out. “holy fuck...” he curses, his hips beginning to move in a rhythmic motion. each thrust drives him deeper, hitting that sweet spot inside you that makes stars burst behind your eyelids.

“w-wait, can we move? it's a public place, wha.. what if someone sees us?” you ask as his cock filling you up, he pauses mid-thrust, his breath hot against your ear. his cock remains buried deep inside you, twitching with the need to move. “you're not wearing condom either.” your eyes straight up meet with the open sky in front of you before meeting his, hooded with nothing but lust and desire for him.

he halts his movements momentarily, considering your words. but then he shakes his head, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “fuck ‘em, baby. let ‘em watch,” he replies, resuming his vigorous pounding. the thought of being caught only seems to fuel his desire further. ignoring your concerns about privacy, he continues to pound into you with unrestrained passion. the sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the quiet rooftop garden, punctuated by your gasps and moans.

“we're alone here,” he assures you breathlessly, his voice muffled against your neck. his free hand roams your body, squeezing your ass cheeks as he grinds against you. “i told everyone to stay away before, remember?” he adds, nipping at your earlobe. “no one will bother us, none of those fucker dare to bother me.” his thrusts become more erratic when a glimpse of you nodding caught by his gray irises, driven by the intensity of his desire. the absence of a condom only heightens the risk, the danger making the experience even more exhilarating.

“you feel incredibly wrapped around me like this,” he growls, picking up speed. “so fucking tight and wet. i can't get enough of you.” his words send shivers down your spine, and you cling to him tighter, lost in the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body. the roughness of the wall against your back contrasts with the smoothness of his skin as he moves within you.

“ah, hajime!” you cry out, your voice rising in pitch as he hits that perfect spot inside you again and again. your nails dig into his shoulders, trying to anchor yourself as the world spins around you. just when you think you can't take anymore, he shifts the angle of his thrusts, rubbing against your clit with every stroke.

he leans back slightly, giving himself a better angle to plunge deeper inside you. his movements become more deliberate, each thrust designed to hit that spot within you that makes you clench around his cock. “you like that, hm?” he asks, his voice dripping with arrogance and satisfaction. as he speaks, he slows his pace momentarily, allowing you to savor the fullness of him inside you before driving into you with renewed vigor.

“fuck— s . . so good.”

the sensation of being taken so brutally, so passionately, is overwhelming. your walls begin to flutter around his cock, signaling your approaching climax. he responds by gripping your hips tighter, anchoring you to him as he fucks you with abandon. he quickens his pace, his cock driving in and out of you with ruthless precision. each thrust pushes you closer to the edge, your orgasm building rapidly.

“i'm gonna make you cum so hard,” he promises, his voice a low purr against your ear. “my little slut.” his words send shivers down your spine, adding to the pleasure coursing through your veins. your clit rubs against his pelvis with every thrust, the stimulation pushing you closer to the brink.

“fuck... you're so tight,” he groans, his thrusts becoming more desperate. “i can't hold back much longer.” feeling your inner walls start to convulse around his throbbing cock, umemiya gives a few final, deep thrusts before surrendering to his own climax. with a guttural groan, he spills himself inside you, his seed flooding your womb.

“that's right, cum for me,” he commands, his voice thick with lust. “show me how much you love my cock.” the sight of you coming undone under him, your body writhing with pleasure, is enough to push him over the edge. as waves of ecstasy wash over him, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, breathing heavily. “you're mine,” he whispers fiercely, still pulsing inside you.

still buried deep inside you, he holds you tightly against him, his arms wrapped securely around your waist. his heavy breaths fan across your skin, each exhale hot and ragged. umemiya smirks against your neck and lips brushing against your sensitive skin.

he pulls his head away from your neck to took his gaze to you. smirk only grow wider after he see you, eyes glisten, your cheeks crimson red while your chest rising up and down, trying to catch your breath that he just took away. “i want more,” your honey voice ringing under the warm breeze, looking at the gray iris upfront.

“always so greedy,” he teases, his own are dark and intense, reflecting the raw desire still burning within him. umemiya bring his feet to the green picnic bench, still with you wrapped around him like a koala before he sit on the table with you on his lap, his cock still inside you.

his muscular arm tightly holds you close, leaving no space between except the uniform you use and the white t-shirts he used. instead of moving his hips, his lips find you first, giving you nothing but sloppy kisses.

he kisses you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth with fervor. as he ravages your lips, his free hand begins to roam your body once more, caressing your breasts and teasing your nipples through the fabric of your uniform. leaning back slightly, he gazes down at where your bodies are still joined, marveling at the sight of his length disappearing into you. even though they've just finished, his cock twitches inside you, signaling its readiness for another round.

“mmm, tastes so sweet,” he murmurs against your mouth, breaking the kiss briefly to nip at your lower lip. he resumes his assault on your senses, his hips starting to rock gently, stirring his softening cock within you. his other hand slides down to your thigh, pressing it firmly against his hip as he grinds against you. the friction sends sparks of pleasure shooting through your core, reigniting the embers of your desire.

“tell me what you want,” he urges, his voice husky with need. “i'll give it to you, anything at all.“ your arm wrapped around his neck while the free one roamed around his body, feeling the tone muscle under his white t-shirts before sleeping on his white lock, tugging his head slightly to give you a space of his neck.

you biting his adam's apple before whispering, “fuck me, hajime. i wanna feel your dick inside me again,” at the end of your words, your lips find it's way to his soft spot, sucking and licking, mindlessly giving him a harmless bruise. lips so sweet but so filthy, so so filthy. his sharp intake of breath tells you everything— the action on his neck has struck a chord, setting off a surge of arousal. a pleased hum rumbles in his chest, vibrating against your mouth. with a firm grip on your hips, he positions you just so, lining his cock up with your entrance.

“hold onto something,” he warns, his voice low and raspy. with a swift movement, he thrusts up into you, burying himself to the hilt in a single fluid motion. the sudden intensity of his penetration causes you to gasp, your back arching involuntarily as pleasure spikes through your body. he doesn’t pause, however, his hips snapping forward in a series of short, forceful thrusts that have you seeing stars for the second time.

“beg for it,” he orders, nipping at your earlobe. “f-fuck me, hajime. don't stop, o-oh fuck!” tears streaming down your face, ruining your mascara the way your closed tightly.

“that's it, say my name when you want something,” he groans, pushing into you with increased force. his hands roam freely now, grasping your ass cheeks firmly and spreading them apart to gain better access. the new angle allows him to hit deeper than before, his tip bumping against that spot inside you that seems to trigger every nerve ending. the change in position causes a slight sting, but it's quickly overtaken by the torrent of blissful sensations cascading throughout your body.

“faster...” you gasp out, your fingers digging into his flesh as you struggle to articulate the intensity of your needs. at your plea, he obliges without hesitation, picking up the pace to a relentless rhythm. each thrust becomes harder, faster, more demanding than the last. his cock slams into you relentlessly, the sound of wet, slick flesh meeting filling the air.

“that’s it, take it, baby,” he growls, his voice laced with raw lust. “all of it.”

all of it.

his hands leave your ass momentarily, trailing up your sides before returning to grasp your thighs, lifting them higher so he can angle his thrusts perfectly. this new position drives his cock even deeper, hitting that secret spot within your closed eyelids, bursts of light flicker like stars.

“god damn, i love fucking you,” he pants, leaning forward to capture your lips in another searing kiss. “fuck, i-i can't—” you crying on his lips. he breaks the kiss, his breath coming in harsh gasps as he continues to pound into you with unrelenting ferocity, splitting you into two. your cries only spur him on, his movements becoming even more brutal as he chases his own release.

“shh, you can,” he snarls, his teeth bared in a feral grin. “you will,” he whispered in your ear. his thumb finds your clit, rubbing it in tight circles as he fucks you senseless. the added stimulation pushes you closer to the edge, your body tensing in preparation for the inevitable climax.

“now, cum for me,” he demands, his voice a low, commanding growl. “show me how much you want it.” but the moment you're about to reach your climax, umemiya stop moving, mocking you with a giggle and in one second you're already pressing against the hard wood covered with his uniform, your feet standing wobble in front of umemiya. a moan of protest leave your lips the moment you feel the emptiness inside your pussy.

“i know baby, i know,” he reassuring you that he's gonna fuck you once again, “you can't stand properly, but try harder for me, hm?“ he caresses your ass with one hand while the other slightly tug your hair, guiding your face to the side so he can take a clearer vision of your side profile.

he holds your hips with one hand while the other stroking his hard-still cock, getting ready for you once again. he watches you with hooded eyes, his breathing ragged as he waits for you to regain some semblance of balance. when you finally manage to steady yourself, he gives a satisfied grunt, his hand tightening around your hip.

“there we go,” he says approvingly, a smirk playing on his lips. “now let's finish this.” without further ado, he aligns himself with your dripping entrance once more. holding onto your waist firmly, he thrusts into you with renewed vigor. the sensation of being filled completely by him sends shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your veins.

“fuck yes,” he groans, his pace relentless as he starts to hammer into you with abandon. “fuck— stop! u-ume . .” your hand moving backwards, trying to reach umamiye who's ready to fuck you from behind. your action only made him grasp your wrist and jail your hands from pushing him away. you don't know why, but somehow he's getting more bigger than usual you can practically feel his cock poking your cervix, suffocating you.

“so big, —c-cant. oh. my-god!” he fuck you so good you can't even making a sentence properly. a dark chuckle escapes him at your struggles, his grip on your wrist unyielding as he uses his other hand to spread your legs wider, opening you up to receive him fully. “shh, just let go,” he coaxes, his hot breath fanning over your ear as he leans in close, “i've got you.” he give your shoulder a kiss after kiss, a hard bite after that's for sure going to leave a bruise.

each powerful thrust seems designed to drive you mad with pleasure, his thick length stretching you impossibly wide as it plunges into your depths. the pressure builds with each stroke, until you can hardly bear the intense sensations coursing through your body. “come on, baby,” he urges, his voice a husky whisper. “give it to me. let me feel you cumming on my cock.” umemiya large palm gripping on your neck as he pulls you closer until your back touching his chest. his other arm slinging around your waist tightly. his thumb pressing on your neck.

“good slut, good little slut for me, i know you can take it baby,” he whispered in your ear as he thrust faster. his cock throbs inside you, the sensation amplified by the clenching walls surrounding him. the thought of him taking you so thoroughly, so ruthlessly, has your mind spinning. his grip is unyielding, ensuring you remain trapped beneath him as he continues to ravage your body.

“you like it rough, don't you?” he taunts, his breath hot against your ear. “you love when i fuck you senseless, when i make you mine completely.” his hips snap forward, driving his enormous cock deeper into your pussy. the pressure is intense, bordering on painful, but you crave it, needing more of the exquisite agony he inflicts upon you.

“yes, just like that,” you whimper, your body trembling with the effort of staying upright. “s-so deep, hajime.” with a deep, guttural groan, umemiya increases the tempo of his thrusts, his large member slamming into your clenching walls with relentless force. each movement sends ripples of pleasure radiating out from your core, threatening to consume you whole.

“that's right,” he grunts, feeling your inner muscles fluttering around his pulsing shaft. “take every inch, baby. show me how much you need it.” the heat between your bodies intensifies, the sounds of skin slapping against skin mingling with your desperate gasps and moans. umemiya's fingers dig into your flesh, leaving marks that serve as a permanent reminder of his possession.

“don't hold back now,” he commands, his voice strained with desire. “cum for me, show me what you really are...my good little slut.” his grip on your throat tightens, just enough to make your pulse race and your head spin. the combination of his dominating touch and the brutal pace of his fucking leaves you dizzy with need, teetering on the brink of a shattering climax.

“i'm going to fill you up,” he promises, his voice strained with desire. “going to mark you as mine from the inside out.” feeling your walls tighten around him, umemiya's control snaps. with a final, powerful thrust, he buries himself to the hilt, flooding your womb with his hot seed for the nth time that afternoon. your name is a primal chant on his lips as he rides out his orgasm, each spurt sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

“oh fuck, why are you so damn tight? i thought i already stretched you out before,” he pants, his body shaking with the force of his release. “so perfect... c-can't believe i try not to break you when you're this pretty,” as the last tremors of his orgasm subside, he slowly eases out of you, his spent cock glistening with your combined juices. leaning down, he presses a tender kiss to your shoulder, marking you with his scent.

“good girl,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, laced with satisfaction. “always so good for me.” slowly he leans you against the table once more, letting you catch your breath as your eyes close. he too, trying to catch his breath. eyes still glue on your flustered face.

his gaze shifted to your dripping pussy when he pulled his dick out, bringing your cum as well, until it dripped on the floor, making a little puddle of cum, mixing with his. watching you with hooded eyes, umemiya's hand trails lightly over your curves, tracing patterns across your skin. the sight of your glistening cunt, coated with their mixed fluids, sends another wave of arousal through him.

“that's right,” he whispers, his voice a low rumble. “you're covered in my cum, all mine.” leaning down, he takes a moment to lap at your swollen clit, savoring the taste of you mixed with his own essence. the sensation is intoxicating, driving him to new heights of desire. a string of moan leaving your lips swollen lips.

“you look so sexy like this,” he murmurs against your heated flesh, “all used up and marked by me.” his tongue laps at your slick folds again, savoring the taste of you. every flick and swirl sends jolts of pleasure shooting through your body, reigniting the flames of desire. “just relax,” he soothes, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes. “let me take care of everything.”

slowly, methodically, he begins to work on your sensitive nub, his mouth a warm, wet oasis on your throbbing clit. the dual sensations of his tongue and the remnants of his cum coating your pussy have you squirming under his touch. “fuck, ume— so sensitive,” you whimpering, clenched around nothing. he chuckles darkly, the vibrations adding to the intensity as he continues to tease your clit with his tongue. his hands roam your body, kneading and caressing, mapping every curve and dip.

“mmm, i know just what you like,“ he purrs, his words muffled against your sensitive flesh. “you're so responsive to me, baby. always so eager to please like a little slut,” he chuckles. increasing the pressure, he sucked gently on your clit, swirling his tongue around the bud before releasing it with a pop. the cool air hits your damp skin, sending shivers down your spine. he spins you around, guiding you to sit on the edge of the table. leaning in, he captures your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth to claim you once more.

“taste yourself on my tongue,” he growls against your lips, his voice thick with lust. “taste us, together.” the tangy flavor of his cum mixes with your own natural sweetness, a heady cocktail that only serves to heighten your arousal. you can feel his hardness pressing against your stomach, a constant reminder of what's to come.

“now, let's get cleaned up,” he murmurs, breaking the kiss to stand straight and pull you to your feet. “and then we can start round two,” a breathy chuckle follows, jokingly along with you moaning a complaint, already feeling sore, “i can't feel my leg.” he laughs heartily at your complaint, moving to grab your hips to help support you. “poor thing,” he teases, squeezing your hips gently. “next time i'll go easier on you,” he kiss your forehead with the same soft downturn gray eyes he always had.

“wait here for me baby, let me clean you up,” he kissed your forehead once again before taking a clean cloth to clean your mess and his. with gentle but firm movements, umemiya cleans away the evidence of your intense lovemaking. his touch is careful yet thorough, ensuring every trace of their combined essences is wiped away.

“there, all better,” he says, planting a soft kiss on your temple. “i've got you,” he wraps the cloth around your hips, securing it snugly to keep the blood flowing back to your legs. giving your ass a playful slap, he smirks. “stay put, baby. i'll be right back,” returning moments later, umemiya carries a bottle of cold water and a small towel.

“come sit properly on the table, honey,” he says sweetly, his voice resonating in your ears. with gentle hands, he guides you to sit facing him on the table while he takes a seat on the bench. he positions your legs sideways and looks up at you with a warm smile.

he carefully unwinds the cloth from around your hips, his fingers grazing your sensitive skin. setting aside the cloth, he pours some water onto the towel and begins to wipe down your thighs and between your legs.

“this should help,” he explains, his voice soothing. “cold water will bring the blood back to your legs faster,” he continues to dab at your skin, taking care not to press too hard. each stroke of the cool fabric sends pleasant tingles up your spine, helping to ease the ache in your limbs.

“mmm, that feels nice,” you murmur, feeling your body relax under his touch. you watch his expression, noticing the way his eyes focus on his task, carefully dabbing at your skin with the cool cloth. despite the domesticity of the moment, you can still feel a faint tension between the two of you, an undercurrent of desire that hasn't quite been satisfied.

your eyes meet his as he looks up at you, his fingers gliding gently along your sensitive skin. “is that better?” he asks, his voice filled with a subtle hint of satisfaction. his fingers brush against your inner thighs as he cleans you, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. “keep still,” he instructs, his voice low and commanding, “don't move.”

despite the pleasant sensations his touch is stirring, you obey his command and try to stay still, gripping the edge of the table for support. you can feel the cool cloth gliding across your skin, erasing the remnants of their earlier activities. his eyes remain fixed on your face as he continues to clean you, his touch firm yet gentle. the silence in the room is interrupted only by the sound of your labored breaths, a telltale sign of your growing desire. “feel better?” he smiles at you after he finishes cleaning you up.

you nod, feeling a mix of pleasure and relief now that the cool water has helped to soothe your aching muscles. “much better,” you reply, a small smile curving your lips. “thank you.” he tosses the cloth into the basket in the corner before letting his hands resting on your thighs. “good,” he murmurs, his voice low and satisfied. “i like taking care of you.” his thumbs brush against your inner thighs, and you can feel his eyes roaming over your body, taking in every inch of you.

“why?” you asked.

he glances up at you, a hint of surprise in his expression. “why what?” he asks, his thumbs still tracing lazy patterns on your skin as he continues to gaze at you. “why do you enjoy taking care of me so much?” you ask, curiosity in your voice as you place one palm on the table to support your body, leaning slightly towards him. he pauses for a moment, his fingers stilling against your skin as he considers your question. “because i care about you,” he says finally, his voice sincere. “i like knowing that i can help you feel good, that i can take care of you. i t makes me happy,” he kiss your arm lightly.

“yeah, but why?” you press, wanting to understand his deeper reasons. “what makes you want to take on that responsibility and effort for me?” he hesitates for a moment, his fingers resuming their gentle caresses as he gathers his thoughts. “i suppose it's because i have a strong protective instinct when it comes to you,” he admits, his voice much softer now. “i want to shield you from anything that might hurt you, and i want to make sure that you're happy and taken care of.”

he pauses for a moment, his eyes meeting yours. “i guess i just can't stand the thought of anyone else touching you or making you feel the way i can.” “but we're not even dating, aren't we?” your eyebrows arch, “why do you want to waste your time taking care of me?” you asked, added another layer of your confusion to umemiya's plate.

he lets out a soft sigh, his thumbs still tracing lazy circles on your skin. “i don't see it as wasting my time,” he responds, his voice firm, “taking care of you brings me a sense of satisfaction and contentment.” he silent for a moment, his expression becoming more serious. “and yes, we're not officially dating,” he admits, “but that doesn't change my feelings for you. i care for you, regardless of the title we put on our relationship.” he hesitates for a moment, his thumbs pausing momentarily on your skin before resuming their gentle stroking. he tilts his head slightly to one side. “does that matter to you?”

he watches your expression with a mixture of curiosity and concern as he waits for your response. it's clear that your question has struck a nerve and prompted him to consider the significance of your relationship status. he leans in closer, his hands moving to rest on your hips as he gazes into your eyes. “does it matter to you that we're not officially dating?” he repeats, his voice low but earnest. he gauges your reaction carefully, clearly interested in your answer.

you shrug your shoulders and say, “yes, it’s important to me. i believe i deserve more than just a relationship without any real commitment or label,” your eyes meet his gentle gaze, revealing your emotions as they reflect back at you in his expression. he nods thoughtfully, his fingers gently tracing along the curve of your hips as he processes your response. “i see,” he mutters, his voice thoughtful. “you want something more concrete, something that's defined and has a label.” he gazes into your eyes, his expression earnest. “can i ask you something?”

“hm?” your eyes never leaving his.

he hesitates for a moment, his thumbs stroking your skin in slow, soothing motions. “if i asked you to be my girlfriend right now,” he finally murmurs, his eyes never leaving yours, “would you say yes?” you smile slightly, tilting your head to one side until it rests gently on your shoulder. with a playful glint in your eye, you add, “i’d probably say yes.” his expression shifts, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “probably?” he repeats, a hint of playfulness in his tone.

he moves closer to you, his hands finding their way to your hips once again. “only probably? i wanted a definite answer, not a probability.”

“then take me out on a date and ask me properly,” you say, a smile still gently gracing half of your face. as you speak, your fingers lightly drifts across and rests on his soft skin, tenderly caressing his cheek. he lets out a low chuckle, his hands stilling on your thighs as he leans back and looks up at you. “you're demanding one, aren't you?” he teases, his fingers continuing their gentle caresses on your thigh. “but fair enough,” he added, a hint of amusement in his voice.

he studies you for a moment before finally standing up and taking a step closer to you, his hands moving to rest on your hips. “alright then,” he says, his tone playful, “how about i take you out to dinner tomorrow night and ask you out properly?”

nodding your head with a small smile that gradually grows wider, you say, “cool,” your shyness preventing you from giving a more complete answer. he grins at your response, his hands firmly on your hips as he pulls you closer to him. “cool,” he repeats, a note of satisfaction in his voice.

he grins at you, his hands still resting on your hips as he pulls you closer to him. “you'll say yes, right?” he teases, his voice low and slightly taunting. “once i take you out and ask you properly, you won't have an excuse to say no?” he leans in closer, his body pressed against yours, his breath warm against your neck. “you can't back out now,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. “after i take you out on a date and ask you to be my girlfriend, i expect you to say yes.” he nuzzles your neck, his lips trailing soft kisses against your skin. “no take backs, no second thoughts. you're mine.”

“don’t have much of a choice now, do i?” you chuckle softly as your hand reaches out to gently touch his soft white hair. he chuckles softly, his lips still pressed against your neck. “no, you don't,“ he agrees, his hands drifting down to squeeze your hips gently. “but I'm sure you won't mind being mine.” he pulls back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes, his expression a mix of desire and possessiveness. “you're already mine in every way that matters,” he adds, his voice low and seductive.

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