Lies

 Lies

I’m not a big fan of myself lying, not to say I haven’t lied or that I don’t lie every now and then (though I do my best to avoid being put in situations where I need to lie), and I’m fine with other people lying because I know that sometimes it’s just the best and easiest option (and yes, sometimes lying is the best option, despite some people’s opinions). There are a number of smaller reasons for this, but there is one big reason that stems from Him (for those of you who don’t know who He is, here is a link to another story starting with the details on that however that story does talk about a girl who committed suicide so you may not want to read the whole thing https://zanevi4.blogspot.com/2020/03/ill-never-forget-her.html). Now, this is not a pretty story but it does involve graphic and horrific violence and death, so if you want to avoid reading that now would be a good time to click away from this, to everyone who continues on I’m sorry but this will likely be difficult to read.

            The first memory involved two friends who were inseparable and We spent months studying them, learning what they liked, what they did, where they went in their free time, and what each one was striving to succeed in. Once We learned this He had decided he wanted to turn them against each other, to turn best friends into enemies.

We spent weeks setting things up, getting ready to sabotage one of the friends at an important tryout and frame the other friend for it. It worked, and the once best friends turned on each other, becoming bitter rivals in everything they did. They spent a year at each other’s throats before someone finally found out that they were tricked, though they never found out We had caused it.

            This is where things start to get really dark so this is your last chance to stop reading. The second memory is a little bit simpler, but much worse. We were walking home on day, and we heard a woman weakly calling out for help from the side of the road. We looked over and whoever she was she was badly hurt, it looked like she had been beaten and left to die, and she definitely wasn’t going to make it through the night without help. He left her there, alone, on the side of the road, while she begged Us for help. She was never on the news, and the next day her body wasn’t there, but there was plenty of blood where she had been, too much blood for anyone to have lived.

            The third, and final memory I’ll be talking about, is much worse than the others so I’ll try to make it as quick as possible. We was walking through a town and found a homeless man. He was just laying there, asleep, and He walked over and just started beating him, for no reason. It was brutal, merciless, and unrelenting. I vividly remember every second of it, the feel of bone breaking beneath Our fists, the spray of warm blood on Our skin, the brief moments the man had to cry out before he was gone, and how He felt nothing while doing it.

            I’m sure you’re wondering what the point is here, how are these related to why I don’t like lying. It’s because all those memories I just shared with you have one thing in common, they’re not real. These memories were fabricated by Him, a “final gift” before He died. He left me dozens of false memories, all varying in their level of cruelty and horror but all memories I could tell were clearly false. He also left memories that I’m not sure about, ones that could be either real or false, and then there’s also the chance he left memories that I think are real but aren’t.

            I’ve done my best to fact check my memories using online newspapers, reports, local stories, but there’s always the chance I’ve missed something, there’s years of memories after all. I can’t say with 100% certainty why He left these memories in my head, I think it’s because He knew He was dying and He thought that these memories would make me stronger since I would be all that was left of Him. Whatever the reason is I’m left with these terrible memories, half of them are what makes up the nightmares I occasionally have.

            I share this because it’s part of my story and I think it needs to be told and it shows more what He was like. I doubt that many people will find anything in this they can relate to or anything that can help them in their daily life. I doubt that many people will even make it to this point, and to those who have thank you for reading, I know it probably wasn’t an easy read and I hope the rest of your day is wonderful and bright.

A Night Out

A Night Out

A nice night out, that’s what we decided we needed. With absolutely everything going to hell, we just wanted a bit of peace, even if just for an evening, and we definitely needed it OUTSIDE of our place. A friend of ours pulled some strings to get us some seats to a movie that we could enjoy while not being overly exposed to the general public, which we definitely owe them for. We spent a few hours getting ready and making sure we had everything we possibly needed; masks, hand sanitizer, gloves, and then of course I packed some things to surprise you with later.

            We’ve arrived a bit early, half expecting there to be a line, but there’s only a handful of people. Everyone has mask, they’re a reasonable distance apart, and everyone seems cordial, definitely not what we thought would be happening, but it seems everyone’s just grateful to have a peaceful night out. A few minutes go by, some small talk between the people here about how crazy this is, then we’re let in one group at a time in order to maintain distance, and there’s already popcorn hot and ready for everyone to grab.

            We’re filed through to the movie, with the seats marked for 6 foot intervals, and I lead you to the back row, no one else joins us leaving us alone in the back row, which means I can make all sorts of trouble. I wait though, letting us get through some of the popcorn and half the movie, holding your free hand and gently stroking the back of it with my thumb through most of it, before slowly moving my hand over and down your leg. Ever so gently I tap your leg, signaling you to part your thighs for me, as I start to slide my hand up your leg, caressing every inch as I do, feeling goosebumps rise underneath my palm.

            I hear a low moan escape your lips, and you quickly move your hand to mine, trying to make me move faster instead of this tortuously slow pace. I do, I’ll have plenty of time to tease you later if I really need to, right now I can tell you need to feel more than just my hand on your leg. I’m surprised as my hand moves up to find that you aren’t any panties, I immediately turn my head to look at you, a mischievous grin on your face, “I see you were expecting this, Good Girl.”

            I turn my head back to the screen, can’t look too suspicious, and I start teasing you, just rubbing the outside of your lips with two fingers. After a few minutes, and hearing more and more need in your groans, I slide one finger in between, and ever so slowly start to slide it into you, easily so since you’re already so wet. I hear your groan start to grow louder and I quickly silence you by bringing you in for a deep kiss, my tongue tangling with yours as you groan into my mouth.

I pull away, moving my mouth up to your ear, growling into it, “You can’t be too loud, we don’t want to be caught, at least not yet, you have to cum before we can get caught.” I hear you stifle a moan, my voice tends to have that effect on you, especially when I start to slide in a second finger during the middle of it. “Now, I know you too well, you won’t be able to keep quiet once I slide in my third finger, so I brought something to help with that,” the low whimper you respond makes me throb in anticipation.

I reach into the bag we packed, and pull out a small ball gag, a deep purple center and dark leather straps that aren’t easily visible in the back of the dim theater, perfect for the occasion, as I gently push it in front of your mouth. I wait though, looking to you, and you give me a gentle nod, and I push it up to your lips so you can bite down on it, and it takes a second but I manage to secure it loosely with one hand.

            I may have teased you about the three fingers, but I continue with just two for now, the movie now in the background of our thoughts, increasing the pace a little bit, feeling your muscles start to clench as you moan into the gag. I look around to make sure no one is looking as I use my free hand and start to unzip myself, pulling my stiff cock out of my boxers, and slowly starting to stroke as I watch you get lost in the sensation of my fingers inside of you.

I can feel your juices flowing down my hand, your pussy clenching, I can feel your orgasm starting to rise within you, and I can feel the resistance as you suddenly remember we’re in public, that small part of you that feels shame for this, I’m used to this. I lean into you, whispering, “It’s ok, no one can see what’s happening, they can’t see me stroking my throbbing cock or filling your soaking wet pussy with my fingers. They can’t see how close you are to cumming here in the middle of the theater, with all these people around. They can’t see how much you love this, how much you try to resist loving it, how much I love drawing this out of you,” and I start to ease in that third finger I teased you about earlier.

The groan you make as your eyes roll back, that’s so fucking hot, and I start to pump faster as I watch that resistance fade away as you let the orgasm tear through you. You manage to not scream, and the moan is muffled by the gag, but the deep growl that escapes from me, that I fear may alert people to what’s happening. I don’t turn to glance yet, I keep my fingers inside you, and let go of my cock to pull you closer, gently kissing your forehead, “Good Girl, that’s my Good Girl, cumming for me like that. Now, the movies almost over, then we’ll be able to give you your reward, but for now, don’t want to let this ball gag go to waste do we.”

I give your forehead another kiss as I begin to pump my fingers once again, now taking a moment to look around and make sure that no one has notices us, and luckily it seems no one has. I use my free hand to grab yours, squeeze it for a second as I start to increase my pace, then move it over to my aching member, and you start to stroke, matching my pace, eliciting another growl from me. “Fuck, I love how your hand feels, but, we don’t want to make too much a mess in here, so you are not allowed to make me cum, not yet anyways.”

The low whimper you let out in response, both to let me know that you don’t want to wait, and the effect that growl in my voice has on you, causes my cock to throb in your hand. I start to thrust faster into you, holding you close to me as I can feel the orgasm already starting to rise in you, and my own approaching as well. I do my best to remain quiet, but you are hitting that sensitive spot right under the head of my cock, intentionally driving me wild, and both in order to lower the sound of my growls and to pay you back in kind, I put my mouth onto that spot just beneath your ear on, where you love me to kiss and tease you.

I can’t wait anymore, I need to feel you cum again, I move my hand free hand down and start circling it around your clit, and the moans coming out of you as I do, it’s simply too much for me, “You have to stop stroking me, or else I won’t be able to hold back, and it’s not time for me to cum yet, understood?” The whimper you let out, fuck, it almost sends me over before you begrudgingly let go, though the shaking in your legs tells me that won’t be on your mind for much longer.

I can feel your pussy clenching around my fingers, telling me how close you are. I kiss up your neck, and growl into your ear, “I NEED you to cum for me, I need you to cum for me, right…now.” That is what pushes you over, those words hungrily whispered right into your ear, and I feel your body give in, and my cock throbs in response, even without you stroking me I nearly cum from just the sight and sound of you as you hold back another scream.

I undo the gag as you’re panting into it, pulling you in for a kiss, my tongue massaging yours, just as the credits start to play on the screen. “That’s my Good Girl, now, I’ll get everything picked up and give you a minute to catch your breathe, you can lean on me when we’re walking back to the car.” I pack everything back into the bag while you recover, and I love that sight. Your hair disheveled, the glow on your face, the heavy breaths, I love knowing I did that to you.

We’re the last ones out, me holding you against me as we walk, letting you lean into me as we walk into the warm night air. I gently place you into the passenger seat and start the car, giving it a moment before pulling out on the streets, turning to you, “And now, time for your reward. It’s been so long since we’ve been to your favorite park. Too many people during the day and not enough time at night, but now, is the perfect time to go take a late-night stroll.”

That’s exactly what we do. We spend an hour there, sitting on the bench near the pond, walking along the empty paths, waving at the occasionally passersby, and looking up to admire the way the stars look tonight, brighter than they normally are tonight. We both want to spend more time here, it’s absolutely beautiful tonight and I love spending time here with you, but I have more planned. We make our way back to the car, taking a moment to stop at that old fountain and toss in a few coins.

We finally get back to the car where we parked, in a small spot, just out of public view in a small batch of trees at the corner of the park. I motion to the back seat, and you get into the back with me without question. I pull you in for another kiss, like the one in theater, all passion, as I pull away and look into your eyes, lust beginning to fill them once again.

“Now, I know how much you loved the movie tonight,” I smile as a blush comes across your cheeks,” And I know that you wanted to make me cum then and there but I wouldn’t let you. I didn’t let you, because I want to feel your pussy milking my cock, I want to feel the bounce of your body as you ride me, I want to see the way your face looks in the moonlight as you cum all over my cock for the third time tonight, and I want to hear you beg me to cum inside of you.”

I can see that look in your eyes, the look of desire and the look of submission, and I give you no time to respond before I bring you in for another passionate kiss, “And I don’t have the will to wait any longer, I need you now.” I immediately move you to straddle my lap, unzipping my pants and pulling my already hard cock out, lifting up your dress and position myself beneath you, no time to take off all of our clothes.

I take only a moment to spit into my hand and rub it into your already wet pussy, and then I start gently pushing you onto my aching cock. The moment I enter you I let out a low groan that turns into a growl as I continue to lower you onto me, a single guttural , “FUCKKKK,” the only thing I say before I’m buried inside of you. That’s the only encouragement you need, as you start to ride me, slowly at first, but quickly increasing the pace.

I sit there for a minute, just enjoying how all of the sensations. How tight you are as you glide up and down, the look of your face as you begin to get lost in the pleasure. The feel of your body in my hands, your ass and hips so supple and soft in my hands and the slap of skin on skin as you bounce on me, and as I move my hands up the feel of your delicious breasts and I knead and squeeze them, gently teasing each nipple before taking them into my mouth, causing a shudder to roll through you. And of course, the sounds both of us are making as you ride me, the moans and growls filling the night air.

As you lean your head back, I take this moment to use one of the surprises I packed. The pair of nipple clamps we picked out together, with the dark silver chain running in between the bright red rubber tips. You let out a loud gasp as I clamp them on to your already sensitive nipples, your back arching as you press into me. I move one hand down to your hips, using it to help you grind against me as you bounce up and down on me, and the other one to your neck so I can pull you down to me for another kiss, my tongue dancing across yours.

This time, I don’t pull away from the kiss, and I hold you in place with the hand on your hips. I lean us back, you still held above me, and brace my back against the seat as I start thrusting up into you, and I move my hand from the back of your neck, to the front, and gently start to squeeze. I don’t bother with slow or gentle thrust, I start hard and fast. I can tell that you’re already close, and the moans your making into my mouth as we kiss, paired with the growls I’m making, is sending both of us spiraling towards climax.

I never relent in the pace thrust or my grip around your neck, that gentle pressure that’s just enough to cause the blood to rush to your head and heighten the sensations, and never for a second do I let your mouth leave mine until I feel your pussy starting to clench around my throbbing cock. I move my mouth down, still gently choking you, trailing kissing down your shoulders and chest, down your breast and to those gloriously tortured nipples still held in the clamps.

I look up to you as I reach them, but instead of teasing them with my mouth like you expect, I move down the chain that is swinging freely, gripping it in my teeth while looking directly into your eyes. I slowly start to push you up, still thrusting, still choking, until the clamps start to pull against your nipples. A pinched whine escapes your lips, turning into a moan as your pussy starts to spasm, the orgasm starting to rip through you.

I don’t change pace, I don’t let my hand loosen it’s grip, and as you start to climax I pull on the chain with my teeth, causing it to finally release your aching nipples as you start cum all over me, putting my mouth to each nipple to help soothe the pain. I continue this as your orgasm ends, never stopping, and I can feel another one already building within you, my own orgasm starting to rise as well.

“Now, I want you, to beg me to cum, to fill you up, to give you every drop, beg me like the Good Girl you are,” and you do, so beautifully like you always do, you beg me, moaning my name as I fuck you relentlessly, and the way you say Sir, all sends me exploding over the edge with you. I go as deep as I can as I start to cum, pushing my mouth to yours once again as your pussy milks every single drop of cum out of my throbbing cock. As the aftershock of the intensity of it subsides from both of us, I’m still hard inside of you, though I’m far too sensitive to be able to go again so soon.

“That’s my Good Girl, my perfect, amazing Good Girl, and four orgasms, I only planned on three. You don’t have to move, not yet, we can stay like this for a few more minutes, just in each other’s arms. Then we can go home, I’ll draw you a bath with some of your favorite bath bombs, and we can clean up and then go to sleep.” This was exactly the kind of night out we needed; we really owe our friend for this.

Broken

Broken

Hello again, today I’m going to talk about the broken parts of my body and mind. Let’s start with physically, when I was very young I was in terrible car accident, my nose was cut in half and I took a heavy hit to the left of side of my head. The lingering effect of this is brain damage to the left half of my brain, which effects the right side of my body, and also caused pretty much system wide nerve damage. My ability to feel any kind of physical sensation is heavily diminished because of this.

I don’t feel heat and cold like normal people, I don’t feel physical pressure or pain to the same extent, and certain parts of my body have almost no feeling. The right side of my body is slightly off compared to the left, a slight droop to the skin, a limp in my right leg, my right arm doesn’t normally move when I walk, and when I smile the right side of my mouth doesn’t lift properly to form a full smile unless I put effort into it, and I mean actual effort that strains the muscles in my face.

One of the common things this effects is something like a hug, the feeling I have along most of my chest, arms, and hands is deadened, so I don’t really feel whoever I’m hugging. I still give hugs to friends and family when they’re needed, but I don’t normally do it because I don’t like that I can’t really feel whoever I’m hugging.

This may not seem like much compared to the next few things, but imagine not feeling the embrace of those you love, not something I like doing a lot. The type of hug I prefer, though this again is more for me, is being hugged from behind, though I doubt this is as comforting to the other person.

I also have delayed ejaculation, the opposite of premature ejaculation, it is difficult for me to actually be able to orgasm, sometimes it’s not possible at all. There are times when I can try multiple times in one day but still not be able to, the longest stretch so far has been three days of active effort, indirectly six days because of it. There are times it is easier to do, since it’s tied to my nerve damage, but more often than not it is large pain and something I’m concerned with in the future as it can cause problems in relationship.

The main problem, aside from all of that, is the fried nerve endings. Though they have little to no feeling, I suffer from something akin to phantom limb syndrome, I’m sure there’s a name for it, but my brain thinks it’s receiving signals from these nerve endings, the last signal received from them before they got fried, which is pain.

Everyday I suffer from pain due to this, most of the time it’s not a major issue, mostly mildly annoying as I’ve learned to live with it. Sometimes it goes past this point to become a nuisance and distraction, and there are occasional flares throughout the day that are painful which make it difficult to function but I can grit my teeth and bear it. Then, there are the very bad moments, which are rare thankfully.

These moments are often brought on by high stress and strenuous physical activity, but when the pain really flares up it’s crippling. It’s so intense that it takes over every other sense, it’s impossible to think or feel anything other than the all encompassing pain, it literally brings me to my knees when it gets this bad, which hasn’t happened in a few weeks thankfully. I’ve recently discovered a pain patch (the Kailo Pain Patch) that I can wear that helps with the pain.

Aside from the patch, there’s a military trick I learned to help deal with the pain. Since this pain is more or less in my head, actual injuries or pain draws the attention of the brain to it, which in turn causes the other pain to subside for the most part. I usually do this by punching something, either a solid surface such as a wall, or if there is nothing around than parts of my body, often my ribs since. I’ve nearly broken my hand a few times doing this, and have bruised multiple bones in doing so, sometimes the muscle spasms brought on by the pain itself is enough to bruise bone or muscle as well.

Before this pain patch, there were basically no feasibly affordable treatments for it, this patch is basically a miracle patch for me. I have yet to tell basically any of my family other than my brother, I haven’t wanted to bring undue stress since there’s nothing they can do. I also know they’d want to try and get treatments, which we just can’t afford.

These are the physical problems I have, and the parts of my mind mirror that of my body. I’ll talk about it more in my next post, but the old me, more or less another person, He was something truly horrific. I use the term monster because it’s more understandable, but living nightmare is closer to reality. I can’t really explain Him, He’s truly alien to most concepts we have and can put into words, but He is the most terrifying thing I’ve ever seen, and He did terrible, horrible things that haunt me to this day, luckily He’s dead now though, but again, later post.

I won’t go into everything I suffer from, but until recently I had severe depression, I dealt with it for the past 7 years, and I chose to do so alone and without telling anyone else. I struggled every day, hating myself every second of it, wishing I wouldn’t have to wake up the next day. I prayed almost every day that when I went to sleep that it’d be the last time I closed my eyes, but, I refused to ever entertain the thought of ending it myself.

I was lucky to have friends and family that cared about me like they did, because I wouldn’t have survived on my own. I would wake up some days cold and hurting in my heart, I would tearlessly cry until I couldn’t stand it anymore, and then I’d get up anyways and go through the day, then come home and do it again.

Two things kept me going forward, one is that I had to atone for the monster I’d been, to make up for the horrible things I’d done. The second is I refused to be selfish, to give in, I refused to let my grief take over and end the pain and take my own life, because if I did, I would hurt all those people that saved me in ways I couldn’t fix if I was gone.

Luckily, I’m through with that, but I have other lingering conditions, such as OCD and Misanthropy. The version of Misanthropy I have, as there are varying degrees of it, is more or less I don’t like new people, at all. Everyone starts off on the wrong foot with me. Most people are shocked to hear I have this, as I try to be polite and civil to everyone I meet, because I know I have this condition I intentionally fight to ignore it and give everyone a chance, because I actually make friends quite easily.

My ability to process information is also affected by the brain damage, this varies in a number of different ways. I have trouble with my memory, long term retention of things, such as habits like brushing my teeth, can be difficult to impossible, I have an alarm set to brush my teeth in the morning and night because I am incapable of remembering to do so on my own. My short term memory can be quite atrocious at times because of it, I forget something said to me less than 5 seconds ago sometimes, or that I’m doing something even while I’m doing it.

Long term memory has been effected, it is harder to retain certain information, especially if it isn’t actually relevant to my life in an impactful way, which has caused problems since I’m in college and most of the information I have to deal with isn’t really relevant. Other than memory, just understanding what people are saying, or me saying something I understand clearly but is in fact quite confusing to others, which can cause a number of problems during conversation.

There is more, but I’ve already taken plenty of you’re time, so I’ll end on how I feel about all of this. I hate it, I hate being reminded of how broken I am every day, when I have pain flares, when my limp acts up, when I injure myself and can’t feel the injury, or every time I can’t remember something that was just said to me or can’t understand what’s being said to me because my brain can’t process it. I’m reminded every day that I will never be able to have a truly normal life, that my mind and body are broken in irreparable ways.

Despite this, I’m happy with my life as it is now. I’m helping people, I’ve made amazing friends, many of which I consider family, and I’ll learn to not hate what’s wrong with my body and mind someday, so don’t feel too bad for me. I’ll get to a better place someday with all of this, and one day I will be able to afford more permanent treatments for my conditions. Thank you for your time, and I hope you have a wonderful day and night.

For those interested who may be interested in the pain patch, here is a link. https://getkailo.io/offer-01/?lpid=0567&utm_source=1148&utm_medium=9150607322&utm_term=567&utm_content=&utm_campaign=0&aff_id=1148&camp_id=0&sub_id=9150607322&req_id=14d0458fb0cf4467a21f807fb6e7d21b&contract_id=0&oid=567&device_type=PC&country_name=United%20States&gclid=EAIaIQobChMIi7ql4LDa6QIVUfDACh3JdA58EAAYASAAEgLxOvD_BwE