been waitin at these crossroads forever and a day on a guy to buy my soul
How convenient that you’re on the market, and I just happen to have this handful of magic beans and a contract drawn up by a former record company executive…
Sometimes I wonder what my younger self would say to the person I am now. That younger self, so self assured and prideful, feministic, intelligent and independent, going to mass every Sunday like the good Catholic girl she was.
What would she think if she saw me now. What would she say to the girl who now salivates at the notion of living under someone’s boot?
Who turned a man into a God and worships him without reserve, without hesitation, and with all of her heart?
Who has gladly renounced the God she grew up knowing, happily deciding she would rather burn in hell for eternity worshipping her one, true God than be reunited in with her family in heaven?
Who has become so devoted and in love and, in the absolute truest sense of the word, addicted to him that it feels as though this is how it will be for the rest of her life?
Would she be horrified or would she know, somewhere deep down, that this is what she was always destined to be?
“So, Agent Artibud,” said Svetlana, her ruby lips forming shapes far more seductive than the words they ushered into the world. “I’ve received notice from headquarters. Your assignment has arrived at last.”
Agent Artibud blushed deeply, his entirely average and uninteresting penis betraying his excitement; a betrayal both in the sense that his tented desire was unceremoniously revealed, and in the sense that he immediately shot in his pants without so much as a wheeze.
“Th— thank you, Commander,” AA said in the hushed, shamed way that he so often found himself speaking to her. He shuddered, knowing how bored she was with him.
“You are a ridiculous person, Agent Artibud.” Svetlana said it with a tired sigh, as if voicing a thought too long unexpressed. She crossed her legs and rolled her eyes as he seemed to experience a brief siezure. “You’re absurdly rude, and seem capable of little more than rudimentary communication. I could not find your sexual interest any less compelling if you were, in fact, a colony of sentient spiders wearing a human costume.
“But I have a duty, and my duty is this.” She plucked a photo from a folder and then handed him the remainder. She appraised the face for a moment, shook her head, and then passed the photo along as well, gesturing with it as she did so. “You will approach this man. You will win his trust. You will abuse your nature, if you must. And then, when the moment is opportune, you will do your duty.”
Agent Artibud had been staring at the photo, but timdly turned his gaze to her. He seemed to realize at last that he should be quiet, and be grateful that she allowed him to look at her in the first place.
She nodded in acknowledgement, and continued. “You have your instructions, boy. For the good of our people, President Jarkoff must die.”
A cunt I know —I say “I know” in the sense that I know her mind better than she does, but that’s a low bar to clear—said that she was feeling good about herself this morning. So I sent her a video of a girl with a body so unbelievably perfect that it merits sonnets and songs and a round of applause that trails it wherever it goes.
The cunt replied by apologizing for even momentarily seeing herself on a continuum with such magnificence, asking if she should save it to watch when she’s thinking about skipping the gym, and declaring she didn’t know whether to cry or rub against something.
I of course accepted her apology, told her yes, and assured her that there’s nothing better than rubbing against things while crying. I then informed her that I was proud of her for so humble a reply, and that her embrace of her place makes her a kind of pretty that’s all her own.
So you’re wrong, I’m still fairly mean. But yeah, I’ve gone a little soft.
…that anyone other than adolescent teenage boys get off to still nudes when there’s millions of free porn videos on the web, with audio, with porn models?
That’s cute you think they get off to your photos. Like it’s 1985 or something lol.
