So, it's been a month since I started dating my crush. We hold hands every Sunday. But this time, I held her hand a bit more passionately and a week later she started having headaches and started puking. At first I thought she was just sick, but when it continued for a while, I started fearing the worst. I told her to get a pregnancy test. She took it and the result was positive. We were both shocked. I'm not ready to be a father. What do I do? I knew there was a risk of pregnancy when I held her hand, but I never expected it to happen. Don't hold hand, kids
It's literally just cola you piece of shit. There's no cough syrup or anything. What the fuck is wrong with you. How fucking desperate are you to seem cool that you decide you want to force a "joke" about a child consuming drugs. Which would be funny except nothing in this scene implies that they're doing drugs or a drug stand-in. You just saw a can of soda and the two neurons in your head fired for the first time in a week, and you jumped into the comments to screech lEAn and spam purple emojis like a clown bastard. You people are the reason art is dying. Fuck you
I live in the American Gardens building on West 81st Street, on the 11th floor.
My name is Patrick Bateman.
I'm 27 years old.
I believe in taking care of myself, in a balanced diet, in a rigorous exercise routine.
In the morning, if my face is a little puffy, I'll put on an icepack while doing my stomach crunches.
I can do a thousand now.
After I remove the icepack, I use a deep-pore cleanser lotion.
In the shower, I use a water-activated gel cleanser.
Then a honey-almond bodyscrub.
And on the face, an exfoliating gel-scrub.
Then I apply an herb mint facial masque,
which I leave on for ten minutes while I prepare the rest of my routine.
I always use an aftershave lotion with little or no alcohol,
because alcohol dries your face out and makes you look older.
Then moisturizer, then an anti-aging eye balm, followed by a final moisturizing protective lotion.
There is an idea of a Patrick Bateman.
Some kind of abstraction, but there is no real me.
Only an entity-- something illusory.
And though I can hide my cold gaze...
and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours...
and maybe you can even sense our life styles are probably comparable,
I simply am not there.
The Buildup
I was drinking Pepsi and reading an article on how prostate stimulation intensifies orgasms. So, I had the genius idea of using coke to stimulate my ass. WCGW? I mean that the carbonation feels... good in my mouth, so It should work in my ass. As an engineer, there are many logistical challenges to bypass when trying to insert coke into one’s asshole.
Q: How do I put cola in my anus in the first place?
A: You use the rim of the bottle and stick it directly in the anus.
Q: How do I make sure that the coke stays there?
A: You don’t. That’s where I fucked up
Now, with a half-assed plan, I went to the store. As I was checking out, I saw a pack mentos. Time to bring this to level two. I put back the original coke and bought diet coke instead. All 2 liters of glory.
The disaster
20 mins later...
With three mentos in my ass, I gingerly lowered the rim to my rim and poured. The reaction was nearly instant. With the tidal force of a tsunami, the bottle was violently ejected from my ass. A pressure was building up, and the gates of hell opened. I felt Satan’s sugary fire burst from my asshole onto the bed. Holy shit, you would not realize the panic I had. There was a pain, both emotional and physical. The sugary wet fart, the sound of a thousand ass-trumpets creating a heavenly cacophony. I saw the light, I saw the dark. I felt The intense sting of carbonation, I experienced nothing and everything. I had found God, and he was punishing me. There was the maddening sensation of your asshole bending over itself, inside out, shrinking, expanding. It was worse than any experience ever. My brain still cannot comprehend the sensations, but they were torturous. I have contemplated what hell might feel like, and I know that I could find peace there. My bed was soaked with shit-coke. Lord, how am I to clean up.
Don't ever try what I did.
The aftermath
I learned a very valuable lesson that day. Don’t try anything insane. Avoid the asshole.
Also, TIL that the human asshole can stretch 8 centimeters without damage.
TL;DR: Stick to beating your meat, folks.
I’ve pegged 6 different guys now. They all take some level of convincing but eventually everyone agrees. Watching this big strong man turn into a cute little guy just sprawled out on my bed unable to speak or even think while he takes a strapon he insisted would be too big for him. I live for that shit.
And I am good. I mean really good. All of them give some silly ultimatum like “oh ok but if you get to peg me then I get to do anal too!” Guess what, nobody has ever wanted to do the anal afterwards. They just get the best orgasm of their life and can barely walk and then they can’t think about anything else and they come right back for more. I’m happy to give it to them too, any time and any place.
Then of course there’s the dude-bros that are like “oh yeah I never do this but you’re just so hot, I wouldn’t be doing this if you weren’t so attractive, it’s only because you’re hot” and it’s like uh huh yeah baby thank you now bend over so you can get rammed! Oh and guess what, they always come back again. And again. And every time they’re all ashamed but I make sure to go extra hard on them. Maybe I’ll fuck the shame right out of them and we can all be adults and admit how great it is.
I’d say I have 3 regulars who ask for it about once a week. I do extra special stuff for those boys because they at least admit they love it. Then there’s 1 that will never ask for it but asks to hang out and then spends the whole time talking about what we did last time until I go get the strap then he becomes a nice obedient little boy and bends over for me. Then of course there’s the other 2. Reluctant to admit how amazing I am but they’ve both had it more than twice now and every time they say “ok cool I’m only doing it cause you’re hot though, I wouldn’t normally do this” but weirdly they just keep coming back. Silly guys.
One more thing, the moans. Boys moan so beautifully while they’re getting railed and you can tell how good you are by how loud they get. I’ll just be rocking my hips back and forth and suddenly I’m getting these gorgeous moans to let me know I’m hitting the spot. Best sound on earth if you ask me.
I just love being the strapon girl. It’s the best.
I hate my autistic son
[Remorse]
I cant help it, my life is constantly terrible. I spend as much time as work as possible. The worst part is that I am supposed to pretend that I am happy about it. When we get together with the other parents and everyone is pretending their kids are as normal as anyone else. They are not. All of us secretly wish they were never born.
I would never dare tell my wife this. She is in total denial. Every time he screams or has a breakdown I just wish he would die. I believe that violence is a lot more common than you think. but my wife and I always control ourselves. I can't stand it though. Why has god done this to me, and why instead of having support are you not supposed to say this. It is terrible, and I did not deserve it yet I am supposed to pretend life is just great.
