The Death Mask

The Death Mask
First book of the Mapleview series. Get it now!

Monday, August 31, 2015

Late Night Call for the Cableman

Hello All:
A reader checked in last week and wanted to know if I was dead! I can only assume he or she asked this because I had made only one post early last week. If you've been following the blog long enough, then you know that I sometimes let a few days or even week go by before posting a new short story. Sorry if anyone else was worried about my absence.
I also received feedback from another reader pertaining to the Spirit Voice 2.0 SW Ghost Box that I had reviewed and wrote a technical paper on. This person says, "I'm not impressed with the app because the AM channel picks up sounds like a broken microphone like tf g vf p ck lf vd x uh and the generated voice says unrelated words like "is there anyone here with us?" and it answers with bacon or surface or 9000 and the am channel doesn't spell words they get cut severely."
As a reminder when operating spirit boxes--particularly those that are software driven--you have to allow yourself to fall under the effects of pareidolia and cognitive biasing. Many first-time users of spirit boxes are initially disappointed. They truly believe that a spirit box contains specialized circuitry that allows real time communication with nearby ghosts or discarnate entities. And when hearing random words, syllables or sounds; it doesn't make sense. The spirit box doesn't seem to be working according to the believed theory.
That's because a software driven device such as an ovilus or even the Spirit Voice 2.0 SW Ghost Box require the user to fall under the effects of pareidolia and cognitive biasing. You need to be able to put yourself into a trance-like state, partially leave the logical world for a brief moment and actually think about what those words, syllables and sounds might be telling you. It's divination; similar to using a Ouija board or Tarot cards. Essentially, you are allowing yourself to become an open channel of telepathic communication with nearby ghosts or entities. The spirit box is only a suggestive guide. And not all such discarnates are nearby. Some are many miles away... an entire dimension away from ours... perhaps even from the past. I personally put full belief into the technique of using pareidolia and cognitive biasing. You see, I've been told all sorts of things that later turned out to be true from my spirit box. I will never doubt the validity of ghostly communication with ghost boxes.
But don't forget that not every session with a spirit box will produce results. Sometimes all you hear are random words and syllables that don't make sense. Many times it's just garbage coming through. This is because there is no information for you at the moment. There is nobody nearby that wants to talk to you. It's similar to checking your email, but see nothing new. Nobody has anything to tell you.
For people who are more scientific and possibly skeptical of ghostly communication, they might prefer what I call the "Ghost Adventures EVP modification of a spirit box". This involves taking a PSB7 spirit box that actually sweeps the AM and FM radio dial for whispers of nearby ghosts. But you need to modify these devices by cutting the antenna as a means to filter out nearby radio stations. This will ensure that voices are from nearby sources such as ghosts. And this matches more of a user's expectation of utilizing the spirit box's internal circuitry to communicate with ghosts.
More news for the The Death Mask: Recently snatched up by Creativia Publishing, you can now get the paperback version on Amazon. In the future the paperback will be available at other sources as well.
Today's featured writing is another one of those stories that were pulled from the major catalogs to make way for the Mapleview series. Late Night Call for the Cableman is a little erotic story that was written before our fictional Cableman experienced his cosmic and interstellar adventures. A few years back, he was just the cable dude who took care of lonely women in between jobs. This is one such tale.
Late Night Call for the Cableman
It might be easy to conclude that it's all fun and games for the Cableman. He doesn't appear to work so hard. The Cableman, after all, has plenty of downtime which allows him to take extra, long lunches at the gym; park his truck at the local forest preserves for a few sneak-tokes of marijuana; and have his way with lonely housewives or pretty, young things who can't resist the Cableman.
But you wouldn't want to be the Cableman! Many times his work goes beyond after hours. And it isn't uncommon to receive a late night call from a dissatisfied customer with high expectations. Yes, the Cableman must leave the comfort and safety of his own bed to answer such a late night call.
And just like you and me, the Cableman has those blah, gloomy days with overcast, drizzly skies and a slight chill in the air. He drives in his cable van with the wiper blades on delay to clear the nonstop accumulation of drizzle. The windshield defogger is on low. The radio is on for a moment of entertainment before reaching the next customer’s house. But it seems the only thing on the local stations at the moment is a bunch of commercials. What is it about today? Even when there actually is music, it's only the stupid songs.
If one would happen to pass the Cableman out on the road, he or she would immediately recognize the gloomy face that sits in the driver seat.
"What's the matter, Cableman? Why in such a bad mood?"
Uh-oh! The Cableman smoked all of his stash the day before yesterday, thinking that his supplier would come through the following morning. But there was some delay in the shipment of California skunk. Going on over twenty-four hours without a hit from the bowl, the Cableman was seriously jonesing! Hopefully he would get a phone call from the dealer sometime this afternoon, and could finish the day with a much-deserved few tokes of weed.
But it went beyond that. The Cableman was having a little crisis in the department of love. Although a smooth operator when it comes to the ladies, the Cableman recently struck out on his number one desired woman. He made all the wrong moves, said all the wrong things, and probably sent out all the wrong signals or chemistry. Perhaps this fine lady was way out of the Cableman's league. Whatever the reason, it was all good. As the Cableman would soon find out, all that loving was needed for a very, special customer.
After pulling into the driveway of the next customer, an install at a duplex condo, the Cableman reached into the back of his van and removed a leather tool belt that was stuffed with the tools of the trade. Although it drizzled, he wasn't going to bother with a jacket. Most of the work would be done indoors.
And what do you suppose brought sunshine for the Cableman on a gloomy, rainy afternoon when he just so happened to be unlucky in love? So beautiful, sexy and sophisticated with just a touch of being perfected with age; Danielle greeted so warmly with her dark-blond (nearly light-brown) hair and gorgeous, blue eyes. Although her face might have revealed a delicate line or two and perhaps a subtle shortage of collagen; Danielle clearly took excellent care of herself with not only her preserved beauty, but with the fact that she worked out and remained young.
So warm and brandy-ish was her voice as she greeted, "Hi, are you here to connect my cable?"
Just the sound of her greeting caused the Cableman to nearly water at the mouth. A sweet kiss from the customer would surely taste exactly like honey. "Yeah, I've got an order for a reconnect."
"Come on in!" invited Danielle. "I made some coffee. Do you want some?"
Actually, coffee didn't sound like such a bad idea. Perhaps it would cheer the Cableman up on a gloomy afternoon. "Sure! That sounds great!"
Danielle led the Cableman into the kitchen where the smell of freshly baked cookies greeted him. Did the customer make coffee and cookies just for the Cableman? At this speculation, the timer on the oven suddenly went off.
"Oops! Let me get that. The cookies are done." Danielle turned off the alarm, opened the oven door and pulled out two trays of what appeared to be extra large dark chocolate / chocolate chip cookies. If eaten, it would only be necessary to have one of these cookies! They were that big!
"I like to bake on rainy days. It cheers me up. Maybe if you're good, I'll let you have one."
The Cableman was delighted. "That sounds like a great deal. But let's take a look at where you want your cable installed, first."
Before leaving the kitchen, Danielle was sure to pour the Cableman a cup of coffee. "Cream or sugar?"
"Just two spoons of sugar and a bit of milk would be fine."
Within moments, the coffee was handed to the Cableman. It had such a bold and hearty flavor. Not even in the house more than five minutes, already Danielle was the greatest woman, ever. Surely the coffee along with Danielle’s sexiness and her warm and friendly personality would cheer the Cableman up on a rainy, gloomy day
Danielle and the Cableman strolled into the family room and stood before the TV. "This is the main TV where I want the cable to be hooked up at. I’ve been meaning to ask: I didn't order through your office, but I think I might want a second outlet in my bedroom. Could you do that, too? The builder ran the cable wire throughout the house, so it shouldn't be too much work."
"Oh, I could handle that." reassured the Cableman. "Let me just examine the wiring behind your outlet. It needs to be of decent quality." Soon on his knees, the Cableman removed a screwdriver from his leather tool belt and proceeded to unscrew the outlet from the wall. But much to the Cableman's dismay, the builder used questionable cable, probably to save money.
The Cableman takes his job seriously and would never leave a customer with poor picture quality. "Hmm... I don't know about this cable. We can try it out. But if you're picture is grainy or fuzzy, I'm going to have to run some new cable."
"Is it cheap cable?" asked Danielle.
"Well... maybe… I don't want to say just yet."
And that's what Danielle liked about the Cableman. He was so thoughtful and professional; so much different from the sloppy, ill-mannered men that she dated.
When taking a look at a beautiful woman like Danielle, one might wonder why she is single. Divorced for a few years, a closer look might reveal that poor Danielle is lonely and sex-starved. She would do anything for a little attention from a man—the right kind of attention that is. Let's face it; a woman can have sex whenever she wants. But it would be nice to have a man who actually meant it, put some feeling behind it; not just a careless pump and dump.
Of course there are men out there who care and wish for more than just a pump and dump. But the dating scene is more of a zoo for Danielle. For starters, it seems to be a fast-track path to seriousness. Most (if not all) men are divorced and for good reason. They're either emotional rejects or possess way too many hang-ups. And the field is so competitive, as no one wants to make the same mistake, twice. If a woman could successfully get past the large percentage of men who are freaks with psychological disorders, it would appear that the decent men carry a score-card and dock points at the consideration of every possible negative. Did decent men even date real women anymore?
But the Cableman is different. So laid back and free-spirited, surely he's a man that can "play love" and give Danielle the attention, friendship and sex that she so badly needs.
Danielle watched the Cableman as his muscular forearm screwed the cable outlet back into the wall. "Wow! It looks like the rain is coming down heavier.” exclaimed Danielle. “Why don't you come in the kitchen and sit down for a few minutes and have a cookie? I'm sure they've cooled enough by now. And you know that cookies are best when they come out of the oven!"
The Cableman looked out the window and didn't want to go out in the rain to connect the incoming cable. "I think I'll take you up on that offer."
Moments later the two sat at the kitchen table, each enjoying a freshly baked jumbo dark chocolate / chocolate chip cookie. Both had a cup of coffee at the side of their dish. For the Cableman, it was the most fantastic cookie that he ever had. So warm and gooey; surely enough to satisfy on a rainy, gloomy day. Maybe this is how Danielle, herself, was. A good wrestle in between the sheets with her might give the Cableman everything he ever wanted.
And she continued lay on the friendliness as her hand patted the Cableman's forearm. "I just want you know that I appreciate you coming out to hook me up."
Both simultaneously placed their imaginations in the bedroom where it would be so good to install his cable in her outlet.
Suddenly, the Cableman's cell phone rang. Immediately he produced a face of urgency as he stood up to answer. Then he ordered the caller, "Hang on a minute..." The Cableman stuck his index finger in the air to indicate "just a minute" before stepping outside onto the front patio.
Who could it have been on the phone that required privacy? Was it the Cableman's girlfriend; maybe his wife? Things were going so well for Danielle only moments ago.
It was the Cableman's marijuana dealer who now had the shipment of the much anticipated California skunk! But the Cableman better move fast and meet at the usual spot! The dealer had an overload of deliveries for the afternoon.
Soon the Cableman scurried back inside. "That was my boss! I've got another job to do, so I better hurry up!" Then he stormed back outside in the rain and connected the incoming cable. When inside; the Cableman rushed through his job, making no small talk and almost appeared irritated that he had to be there. In the bedroom Danielle and the Cableman were supposed to enjoy some sloppy making out with lips smacking and tongues rolling to the sound of rain beating against the window. Instead, there were only the harsh sounds of tools that connect the cable to the TV. Was there any way to keep him longer and maybe remind the Cableman of the chemistry he shared with Danielle, earlier?
"Hey, do you think the pre-wired cable from the builder is good enough?" Maybe if Danielle appeared unsatisfied with her picture quality, it might make the Cableman stay longer and replace the pre-wiring. By the time he ran cable throughout the house, it would be the end of the day. But why run off when Danielle could have dinner waiting at the kitchen table? Some drinks afterwards might lead to a romantic evening. And Danielle definitely needed romance!
The Cableman was in need of some serious romance as well. But he wasn't about to stay any longer than needed. Instead, he examined the picture quality of both TVs. "Well, I don't see a grainy image or any fuzziness. It looks like your builder's pre-wiring does the job, after all." And then the Cableman did something that sealed his fate. He pulled out a business card that included his cell phone number. "If you notice anything wrong with your signal; static, interference or graininess; you give me a call. I'll come out and fix it for you." The Cableman was truly a dedicated professional.
But he sure didn't act like a professional while leaving Danielle’s duplex condo. Shortly after handing her the receipt, the Cableman guzzled the remains of his now lukewarm coffee and then stuffed the jumbo cookie in his mouth while leaving. The Cableman left poor, lonely, sex-starved Danielle alone on a rainy, gloomy day without so much as a "Goodbye" or "Thank you for the coffee and cookie".
What the hell?
Ten o'clock in the evening, the Cableman crashed into bed after a rough day at the job that was wrapped up by relaxing his mind on a couple bongs of fresh California skunk.
At quarter to eleven he was deep asleep when suddenly the cell phone rang on the nightstand. Startled, the Cableman grabbed it and groggily answered. "Hello...?"
It must have been a wrong number. The caller hung up.
No problem for the Cableman. He was so exhausted that he merely dropped his head on the pillow and nodded back to sleep. But not more than ten minutes later, the cell phone rang again.
It was another hang-up!
This time it took longer for the Cableman to doze off. And just as he drifted off into blackness, the annoying cell phone rang for a third time. Would the Cableman get any sleep tonight?
"Damn-it! I'm shutting this thing off!" But just in case it was someone important trying to reach him, the Cableman answered one last time. "Hello?"
The bothersome caller finally spoke. "Hi, you installed cable at my duplex this afternoon. You were concerned about the builder's pre-wiring, but went ahead and used it anyway. "
The Cableman remembered the customer. "Oh, hi... Yes, I remember."
"You know... I'm really not happy with the job. The picture on my TV looks fuzzy, and I can't believe you just walked out of here without installing new wiring."
Still groggy from being deep asleep, the Cableman was unsure of what to say. "Umm... well... Tell you what, why don't I swing by tomorrow and run some new cable for you?—see if that doesn't fix the problem."
But tomorrow wouldn't work for Danielle. "No! I want you here, right now, to finish the job you started! Do you understand?"
There was a pause before the Cableman answered, "Are you serious?"
"Yes, I'm serious! Get your butt over here and finish your work!"
"Okay, I'll be there within the hour."
Well this really sucked for the Cableman. Exhausted after a hard day at work, he hadn't even slept an hour and already needed to answer a night call. Although irritated with Danielle, the Cableman was sure to take a quick shower, shave, spray on cologne, brush his teeth, apply underarm deodorant and change into a fresh company shirt. You never know, the mood might change for the customer later that evening.
Meanwhile, Danielle sat in her dimly lit family room that overlooked the messy kitchen table. The remains of a candlelit dinner sat on the table with an empty, unused plate across from her place setting. She acted out this lonely, heart wrenching scenario earlier in the evening and fantasized of maybe calling the Cableman after a couple bottles of wine when she was drunk, hot and angry. Maybe he would see the empty place setting and realize what he missedmore like what Danielle was missing in her life. Now with nearly two bottles of wine finished, that fantasy suddenly hatched into reality. Danielle truly was hot and angry with a wine buzz fading away. She was tired of merely fantasizing while playing with vibrators and dildos. She needed a real man so badly; feel him lay on top of her body while slipping his exciting cock inside.
Suddenly, the door bell rang. Surely it was the Cableman. In nothing but a flimsy, long-tailed night shirt without panties underneath, and naked breasts that poked the material, Danielle answered the door. She provided no greeting, much less a friendly smile. Danielle was pissed this time and nearly burned the Cableman with her fiery eyes.
The Cableman was the first to speak while in the house. "Well, why don't we have a look at your TV?"
Danielle nearly shouted, driven by an overload of emotions and possible drunkenness. "You know... I'm really pissed that you just walked out of here and left me like this without feeding me new cable like you were supposed to! What the hell is wrong with you?"
"I'm really sorry about that. But just as promised, I'm here to fix the problem. Let's take a look at your TV."
Angrily, Danielle led the Cableman into the family room.
Following behind, the Cableman glanced into the kitchen and took notice of the messy, candlelit kitchen table with empty, unused place setting. It looked like the customer had been stood up for the evening. Oh, and then there was a nearly empty bottle of Pretty Sally Cabernet Sauvignon on the family room coffee table with a three-quarter finished glass of wine beside it. Oh yes; it all made sense to the Cableman, now. Poor Danielle had struck out with love, something that was near to the Cableman's heart in his recent crisis. Maybe tonight the customer was in need of some additional work, some loving to ease a possible heartache.
And what was this? After switching on the TV, the Cableman could see nothing wrong with the picture quality. "Hmm... Well, I don't see anything wrong with your signal. Maybe it's an intermittent problem?"
Danielle was furious, "No! No! You're not understanding! Here, you want to see what I'm talking about? Let me show you the TV in my bedroom!"
As the Cableman followed Danielle upstairs, he discovered that she wore no panties under her long-tailed night shirt as evidenced by the naked cheeks of her ass. The sight of upper thighs that met that ass caused a surge of sexual adrenaline for the Cableman. Suddenly, he wanted Danielle! And her anger was a bit sexy for the Cableman.
In the darkened bedroom with only the downstairs, dim lighting to illuminate the surroundings, Danielle didn't even bother to turn the TV on. Instead she only screamed while facing the Cableman and pounded his thick, beefy chest with her fist. "Damn you! What the hell is wrong with you? I want you to finish the job that you started like a real man does! Aren't you a real man? Isn't that what a man is supposed to do? —finish the job that he started?"  Were there any men left in this world who could give Danielle what she needed? Could any of them hear her crying out for love?
Oh, but the Cableman heard every word of it as he studied the angry, frazzled, emotional wreck that had been so knotted in a long spell of sexual frustration. Without saying a word he gently took hold of the lonely, sex-starved woman by the shoulders and began his long night of work by kissing her on the lips.
There... that's what Danielle had needed for so long. Her silky tongue united with the Cableman's while her hot breath exhaled many months of pent up frustration. The Cableman reached his hands under Danielle’s night shirt and felt that gorgeous, naked ass.
The kissing grew all the more frantic. Danielle’s heart raced more and more, making it necessary to pull away for a brief moment and pant her wine-drunken breath while craving more fondling.
The Cableman didn't stop with his exploration. Soon his hands moved to the front and lifted the bottom of Danielle’s night shirt so that he could caress those breasts that stuck through the material. For some reason, Danielle took hold of his wrists, nearly fighting his eagerness to take the prize. She was still mad at him for leaving this afternoon and wouldn't be so cooperative.
But the Cableman could play rough if the customer desired. Rough, angry sex was always a favorite appetizer for a night of passion. With his strong arms, the Cableman pushed Danielle’s hands against the wall and held them at the sides of her head to be used in such a way to help lock her face forward. Then more kisses were given to those sweet lips that could only cry out frantic, desperate breathing. Danielle was a crazy mess. This was going to be a complicated night of satisfying a woman who might not know what she wanted.
Soon her entire nightshirt was lifted off so that Danielle stood naked against the wall and eager for more. While the Cableman kissed her neck all the way down to her excited nipples, Danielle unsnapped and unzipped his pants; soon to fully expose the Cableman's swollen, hard cock by placing the elastic of his boxer-briefs underneath his scrotum. A real man's dick now eagerly waited for whatever Danielle needed. And if there was any confusion as to whether or not Danielle knew what she wanted, that confusion was eliminated. As sexy foreplay and way to tease herself, Danielle pulled the Cableman's hard dick towards her hairy pussy and tickled the entrance with the head of his cock.
The moment froze as this welcome visitor now knocked upon Danielle’s door. Danielle suspended her breathing with mouth open in delight. How good it felt have a hot, hard dick pressed against the entrance of her vagina; sometimes rubbing against her swollen clit.
"Is that all you need, Baby?" asked the Cableman. "Is that why you called me out here? You need some sex... some good loving on a lonely night?"
Danielle could only nod as she was in ecstasy at the anticipation of what was to happen, next. And while she continued to masturbate with the Cableman's hard dick, the Cableman unbuttoned and removed his company shirt so that his hardened pecs, muscular shoulders and six-pack abdomen were exposed. I guess good things come to those who wait. Danielle had waited and waited and waited for so long!
Soon the Cableman removed his jeans and boxer-briefs so that he was completely nude like Danielle. Then the pair of newfound lovers walked over to the bed while the Cableman lovingly stroked her back and buttocks.
Before diving into bed, both kissed some more and then free fell onto the mattress with Danielle laying on her back and the Cableman on top. His 90-degree, stiff erection slowly rubbed up and back against the entrance of Danielle’s pussy. As the seconds passed she grew wetter and wetter. It was too inviting for the Cableman not to tickle the entrance with the head of his erection, soon to push inward with full intention to penetrate.
"Easy... easy..." whispered Danielle. “It’s been a while."
No problem for the Cableman. He simply rested with the tip at an inch inside of Danielle and then slowly pushed with undetectable motion until, finally, it was in. When the cable company runs a main feeder line to a subdivision or neighborhood block, the proper name for such a line is a trunk. Usually this trunk is buried. At that very moment the Cableman definitely buried his trunk deep inside of Danielle!
And how it good it felt to finally have a man inside of her. The Cableman's dick was perfect; not too large and not too small—just right. There was a sexy slickness to his deep and gentle thrusting. All the while, Danielle lay in bewilderment with her arms tightly wrapped around the Cableman's muscular back, nearly digging her claws into his skin.
A woman's breasts are made to be squeezed, sucked and adored during sex. But how do you suppose breasts looked on this middle-aged woman? They were nothing more and nothing less than simple and cute—definitely attractive and pleasing to the touch. They were the sort of breasts that a man would enjoy playing with. And that's what the Cableman did while removing, thrusting and burying his trunk. Occasionally, his face would return to Danielle’s lips for more hot, sexy kisses. And then his hands would take hold of those attractive breasts for a gentle squeeze while nibbling and sucking on her nipples or circumnavigating her areolas with his tongue.
Things were definitely heated up—crazy hot—in the customer's bedroom. But the Cableman better not finish too quickly. As he would soon find out, Danielle is multi-orgasmic. How many times would it take for Danielle to cum before satisfied? Would it be twice? Or would three times be the charm? There's no telling how much fucking would be necessary on this night. Such a woman is unpredictable and must be handled carefully.
But Danielle knew how to take control. She did so by simply rolling over. Instinctively, the Cableman followed her lead so that Danielle now sat on top and straddled. For the Cableman, he loved it when a woman took him for a wild ride. While lying there, he could explore other fantastic treasures; admire her untamed bush with swollen clitoris that stuck out and nearly called for play. And those beautiful breasts hung so naked and free as Danielle sensually rode up and down. Maybe the Cableman would begin by caressing her sexy shoulders, then down to her attractive breasts to aggressively squeeze and play to his delight.
It didn't take long for the Cableman to notice that Danielle’s naked, exciting thighs appeared silky and soft. The Cableman explored them by resting his open palms on top and then lightly stroked his way to Danielle’s crotch.
Touching a woman's clitoris is a delicate matter. One shouldn't simply begin with intense stimulation. As the Cableman knew full well, he simply rested three of his fingers over the jewel and cautiously massaged while looking into her eyes for reassurance.
It was a good idea for Danielle. But she wasn't ready for the Cableman's touch just yet. Instead, she lay her body over his so that Danielle’s clitoris made contact with the Cableman's pubic bone and received stimulation while continuing to fuck.
What was the rush? There was no reason not to stop with the Cableman's throbbing erection buried within. Danielle paused and then gently kissed the Cableman's lips. No tongues to be united; only soft, whispering kisses and an occasional nibble to his lips.
Then, after sloppily pulling away from a final bite, Danielle sat back upright; this time arching back some so that the Cableman's erection was pulled some distance forward. When this is done to a man, it partially cuts some of the circulation which causes his cock to swell harder and larger. Not only that, it makes it nearly impossible for him to cum. Danielle could have him all night if she liked, and had every intention to enjoy as much as possible.
Fucking and fucking and fucking; occasionally Danielle would provide the Cableman some rest by lying over him with nothing more but delicate, gentle kisses. How badly he wished to cum. How badly he wished to seize the crazed woman and finish her off. But we all know that the Cableman loved every minute of it.
And just to make sure sex continued to be exciting; Danielle turned herself around while remaining straddled. She fucked the Cableman with his erection pulled forward and still buried in her pussy. Danielle’s gorgeous ass presented quite a show in this position. All the Cableman could do in response was squeeze and spank that ass while wishing he could abuse it to heart’s content.
For desert, Danielle pulled the Cableman’s swollen cock out and then knelt over his face. It wasn’t like she totally needed oral sex at the moment. But she stuck it in his face, indicating an expectation for him to do as ordered. The Cableman reached behind and grasped Danielle’s ass, then frantically made out with her pussy; sometimes kissing and sucking her lips, other times penetrating her with his tongue.
It didn’t take long for Danielle to enjoy this. But through all that fucking it was difficult to reach another intense orgasm. Her desire and craving for a wild climax only triggered another state of mania. Soon she aggressively rubbed her crotch all over the Cableman’s face and abused it as if it were nothing more than a sex toy. With Danielle dominating, abusing and screwing the living fuck out of him, the Cableman definitely felt loved!
Perhaps allowing the Cableman to take control and do what he wished might make for a nice evening’s finale. Maybe he wanted some more of that ass. Maybe he wished for the customer to be on all fours with wet pussy inviting some slamming penetration.
Dismounting and then assuming this position, Danielle announced, “I don’t know what the hell I want anymore. Just fuck me!”
Mounting her from behind, the Cableman buried his trunk and then repeatedly slammed against Danielle’s gorgeous, jiggly ass. Soon her frazzled, tousled hair and the top of her head smacked against the headboard. If that wasn’t enough abuse, the Cableman slapped and welted her ass while savagely fucking Danielle as-if she were nothing more than a wild animal.
It was definitely a rough job for the Cableman. But the two newfound lovers now lay cuddling in the dark. The Cableman combed his fingers through the customer’s hair, sometimes kissing her on the forehead.
Danielle playfully asked before giggling, “Are you going to replace the pre-wiring in my house, now?” She wasn’t worried about it. The Cableman could always get to it some other time. Surely these lovers would be seeing a lot more of each other!

Monday, August 24, 2015

Routine Traffic Stop

Hello All:
Police made a shocking discovery during a routine traffic stop on Tuesday morning of last week. Upon approaching the driver-side door, they spotted a tit-shifter; a synthetic female breast with nipple that is mounted on a vehicle's shifter so that the driver can play with it. Such items are soon to be banned on the road, due to the fact that they are used for nothing more than to telekinetically fondle the breasts of nearby female motorists on the road. This practice is just as dangerous as texting and driving because it startles the female motorist. Some women, however, claim that the telekinetic intrusion feels good.
In a public statement, the Chief of Police declared, "There will be no tit-shifting or telekinetically fondling women's tits on the road—not in this town!"
The driver during that routine traffic stop was ordered by police to remove the tit-shifter.
Today's featured writing is a brand new Cableman story. Enjoy!
Routine Traffic Stop
It was a somewhat chilly and drizzly Tuesday evening as the Cableman drove home from answering a service call. You see, it was his week to handle the after business hours calls for outages or other emergencies. This time it was an easy fix; a job that required only fifteen minutes of work.
Now alone on the road with the wiper blades on intermittent to clear the accumulation of drizzle, the Cableman suddenly had an urge to use his homemade government bio-chip hacking device to briefly dial into Agent Lynn's world. The Cableman has grown terribly obsessed with the federal agent of the CAA who implanted him with a government tracking device. I'm sure you've been following these Cableman stories and realize—by now— that the bio-chip is a complicated technology that inadvertently creates a form of high-tech telepathy between Agent Lynn and the Cableman. And what man wouldn't want that?—especially when he can observe her undress in the mirror or take showers and such.
The Cableman adjusted the tuning knob and was suddenly in Agent Lynn's world. She wasn't doing anything particularly exciting in that moment. From what the Cableman could determine, she was doing some work; staring at the screen of a notebook computer—a file that discussed the possibility of Hugh Heffner being involved in a space sister exchange program at the Playboy Mansion."
"Really???" exclaimed the Cableman. "So if I pick up a Playboy magazine, I might actually be seeing space sisters?"
So carefree and enjoying every moment of another intrusion of Agent Lynn’s privacy; the Cableman had no idea the dangerous water that he treaded in. You see; in an illegal act of counter-surveillance, the Cableman was learning top secret federal information.
Perhaps this is why the Cableman spotted in the rearview mirror the flash of police lights. He quickly turned the knob of his homemade government bio-chip hacking device so that Agent Lynn's world was no longer intermeshed with his. With police nearby, he had to give full attention to the road.
At first the Cableman figured that the police were on their way to a call. He wasn't speeding, after all, so they wouldn't have been aiming to pull him over. And like most law-abiding citizens, the Cableman slowed down and pulled over to the right of the shoulder so that the police could pass.
But what was this? The squad car actually slowed down and pulled behind him.
"What???" exclaimed the Cableman. "They're actually pulling me over? What did I do?"
The Cableman is good-natured guy. He was on a busy road; it was dark and rainy. He certainly wouldn't want the officer to get struck by an oncoming car while doing his or her job. This is why the Cableman turned onto the side road and came to a complete stop.
Of course the Cableman's seatbelt was on! Only a fool would drive the roads without one! He rolled down the window and waited in curiosity. What on Earth did the police want?
From the side view mirror, the Cableman watched as two police officers—both men—exited the squad car and cautiously approached the cable van. One of them appeared to be mustering enough courage to finally get close enough to the driver side door.
"Good evening, Officer!" greeted the Cableman. "Can I help you?"
"Good evening, Sir." returned the officer. Then he hesitated before continuing, "The reason I pulled you over is because you have your high-beams on."
The Cableman glanced down at the driver control panel of his van. Sure enough, his high-beams were on. "Oh goodness!" exclaimed the Cableman. I'm sorry about that! I didn't realize that." He immediately switched the high-beams off.
"Yeah, you need to turn those off whenever approaching on oncoming vehicle, or are in close distance behind one. I was heading in your direction in the opposite lane and was nearly blinded for a few seconds."
"Again, I'm really sorry about that. I'll start paying attention." reassured the Cableman.
But the officer wasn't ready to accept the Cableman's apology. "Sir, can I see your driver's license and proof of insurance."
"Of course!" answered the Cableman while reaching into the back pocket for his wallet—one of those retro Velcro wallets from the 1980s with Motley Crue on the front. The police officer did everything he could to prevent busting out laughing upon seeing it. Who sports Velcro wallets anymore?—especially ones that have Motley Crue on the front. Didn't those go out with Members Only jackets back in the early 1980s?
"Here you go, Officer." said the Cableman while handing over his license and insurance card with a smile. As the Cableman believed, it was always best to be pleasant and cooperative with the police if ever pulled over. They have a job to do. And surely the officer only needed to run the Cableman's license to see if he had any outstanding warrants. Of course they would assure that he wasn't wanted for a crime, either.
Several minutes passed as the Cableman sat patiently in the driver's seat of the van. Rain continued to drizzle on the windshield. A few cars passed by on the road. It was then that the Cableman said softly, "Well, it looks like I'm going to get a ticket for high-beams... Shit... The boss isn't going to like this."
But it was about to get worse. No sooner had the Cableman said that; a second squad car turned onto the side road with its lights on, and parked right behind the first.
"You've got to be kidding me!" complained the Cableman. "Is this all they have to do?"
Within seconds, two officers emerged from the recently-arrived squad car. This was cue for the first pair of officers to emerge and join them. The four of them soon surrounded the cable van while one of them ordered, "Sir, please step out of your vehicle!"
Carefully, the Cableman did as ordered. With the way things were going, they could have had guns drawn. Once out the van, the Cableman was placed in handcuffs.
"Am I under arrest?" inquired the Cableman.
"For the time being, no." answered the officer who placed the Cableman in handcuffs. Just wait here. We want to search a few things if that's alright with you."
"I guess I have no choice." said the Cableman.
"I guess not!" agreed the officer while escorting the Cableman over to the hood of the van. "Put your face down and don't move."
The Cableman bent over and placed the side of his face against the hood of the van as ordered. With as much as he could see, he watched as the four officers searched through the front and back of the cable van. Five minutes later, one of them returned and asked, "Sir, you have cabinet in the back of your van that's locked. How do we open that?"
"The key is on my key ring that's in the ignition." answered the Cableman
"You don't have any illegal drugs or weapons in there that I should know about, do you?" asked the officer.
"No sir!" reassured the Cableman. "It's just a half-dozen or so converter boxes that need to be locked up."
Five minutes passed, and the officers continued searching. It was then that the Cableman began to suspect that perhaps Agent Lynn had something to do with this traffic stop. The whole incident was completely out-of-the-ordinary; something not right about it. And maybe the officers weren't actually searching for anything in particular. Maybe they were only giving the Cableman an encrypted warning from Agent Lynn for chasing her down on the highway some days ago. Agent Lynn, after all, was a federal agent who surely had authority over the police. She could have easily directed the local police to stop and harass the Cableman.
The entire traffic stop lasted about twenty five minutes. The officers found nothing illegal in the Cableman's van, and didn't confiscate anything of his—even the homemade government bio-chip hacking device. He wasn't issued a ticket, but was given a simple warning to drive safely.
Back at home, the Cableman sat at his kitchen table with the homemade government bio-chip hacking device in front of him. "It had to be coincidence!" This is what the Cableman tried to argue with himself "The cops in this area do stuff like that because they're bored."
But what if...? What if Agent Lynn really did direct the cops to stop and harass the Cableman as an encrypted warning to stay away? Up until now the Cableman thought that he and Agent Lynn were merely playing a game. But maybe it wasn't a game for Agent Lynn.
What would you do if you were the Cableman in this situation? Would you give Agent Lynn the benefit of the doubt and believe that the traffic stop was only coincidence? Or would you remind yourself that the police are nothing to take lightly. They're a breed of their own that play by their own rules late at night. The police have friends and family who are often promised favors to "handle business" if ever needed. This time it was only a harassing traffic stop. Next time it might be brass knuckles and a nightstick to the Cableman's ribs.
The Cableman sighed while reluctantly opening his homemade government bio-chip hacking device. He removed the 9-volt battery, and placed the device on the shelving unit in the living room, right next to the lava light. There could be no more tracking and spying on Agent Lynn.
To be continued...


Friday, August 21, 2015

Doll Fetish

Hello All:
The Death Mask
I thought now would be a great time to make the official announcement that the first book of the Mapleview series, The Death Mask, has been published to Kindle. The book was originally self-published by me and made available through the major catalogs for a few years. But it was recently snatched up by Creativia Publishing along with the other books from the Mapleview series. The paperback version should be available in the near future.
Check out the cover artwork! The publisher suggested that we go with character-centric artwork--something that I was very excited about. So what character might the face represent on this book cover? I'll let the reader's imagination determine. Go ahead and get your copy of The Death Mask if you haven't already read it. Additional books from the series are soon to be published as well.
I mentioned a few weeks ago that just about all of my short stories and books were pulled from the major catalogs to make way for the release and marketing of the Mapleview series. Doll Fetish is one of those short stories that makes its return to the blog. Just to warn you: it's a very, sick story for sick-minded people. And it might be for someone like you! Jeremy is a sick, twisted pervert who is too disgusting to have any success with women. Then one afternoon he discovered a plastic doll that looked, exactly, like a woman who turned him down for a date. It was the start of a new hobby of collecting dolls just to abuse and torture out of pure, sickening delight. But the dolls came to life and had their revenge!
Have a great weekend! Remember: you are never too old to play with dolls! ;-)
Doll Fetish
It was a Friday morning as Jeremy sat in his office going over the dwindling list of accounts while wondering how he could go about obtaining new business. Why was he having so much trouble keeping his accounts? He tried cold-calling, email marketing, and even made unsolicited visits to various businesses to sell cleaning supplies. But outside of getting a few sales here-and-there, he could not land new accounts.
Just then coworker, Stacy, walked past his office and into hers. She was an account manager just like Jeremy; but won much, more business than him. In fact, she seemed to be the company's stellar performer. Since it was casual Friday, Stacy wore her ultra-tight CFPs. Many young, sexy office women wear CFPs; those "come fuck me pants". CFPs hug a woman's ass so tightly and are most often worn by office women looking for attention. Perhaps Stacy was wearing them to ensure she landed a new account with a customer. Or perhaps Stacy was wearing them because she was looking for a date that weekend. Whatever the reason, Jeremy saw it as an invitation to approach Stacy and ask her out.
"Hey Stacy, you look really nice today. I see you are wearing the CFPs, and I want to be the first to take you up on that offer. Want to have dinner tonight?"
Stacy nervously laughed. Jeremy wasn't exactly the kind of guy you wanted to be around. He was about 300 pounds, face with bad acne and a case of chronic, bad breath. If that weren't enough, Jeremy was just plain creepy. He was obnoxious and spoke of perverted things. Many people wondered why Jeremy still had a job because he had been brought down to HR on many occasions for his rude and obnoxious behavior.
Stacy buried her head in her hands. "Jeremy, if I were wearing CFP pants, I definitely wouldn’t be wearing them for you. And you know; I really don't appreciate that. Aren't you on some kind of HR probation or something?" Stacy was hinting to the fact that Jeremy had been to human resources on numerous occasions for making crude comments to women, and cracking offensive jokes. Aside from that, Stacy did not find Jeremy the least-bit appealing. Jeremy was immature and obnoxious. She wasn't about to stain her reputation by going out with Jeremy, much less lead him into thinking she was interested in him.
Jeremy only stood there with a smile on his face. In his mind he was doing "the chase", and all women like to be chased.
"No, Jeremy! To answer your question, the answer is no. Not in your wildest dreams! And unless you want another trip down to HR, I suggest you go back to your hole... Excuse me, your office, and do some work for a change."
Frustrated and obviously humiliated, Jeremy returned to his office. "That sweet-ass bitch! Thinks she's too good for me!" Who the hell did Stacy think she was? How could she prance past his office while bouncing her perky bottom in tight CFPs and then humiliate Jeremy just for taking her up on the offer? There were names for women like this in Jeremy's world. A woman like Stacy took great delight in causing extreme excitement in men, only to prove themselves to be a tease. Stacy didn't fall short of this definition.
And so Friday came and went at the office. It looked like Jeremy was going to spend another weekend alone. For a man like Jeremy, he found it easy to pass the lonely hours by playing video games. An extreme gamer, Jeremy decided to reward himself with a new game for the weekend. He stopped at the toy store on the way home from work.
Jeremy browsed the game aisle and studied the collection, but could find nothing interesting. He was in the mood for something new and exciting, but wasn’t sure, exactly, what it was. Unable to find anything appealing, he turned and walked towards the exit. In doing so, Jeremy cut through an aisle that contained plastic dolls and accessories. Dolls never intrigued Jeremy, and his mind certainly wasn't on dolls at that moment. But then he had to stop dead in his tracks and look twice in amazement at a doll that looked, exactly, like Stacy at the office. She was blond with brown eyes, even wore CFPs just like Stacy did that day.
The doll stared back in return while remembering the number one rule to follow: never self-animate in front of a human. But was this man going to purchase her? Was he going to purchase the doll’s boyfriend as well so they could live happily ever-after?
Unfortunately the doll would be a solo purchase, as Jeremy had no need for a small, plastic figure resembling a pretty boy.
A doll is made at the factory and given a certain magic to use throughout its life. Eventually they find themselves on the shelves of toy stores. Dolls communicate in the store at night when humans have gone home, and they share the hopes and dreams of where they will end up and the lives they will live. Often, a male and female doll will connect and strike up a relationship similar to dating. But the two can't take the relationship very seriously because the chances of ending up in the same place together may not happen. Still, a female doll is overtaken by her runaway fantasies. She believes and hopes with all her might that her boyfriend will be purchased as well and taken to a place where they live happily-ever-after. But as the doll that Jeremy purchased was finding out, her dream was falling apart. She didn't need to worry about remaining motionless in front of humans at that moment. The doll was numb with the realization that she would be losing her boyfriend, forever.
While traveling home with its new owner, the doll remained confined in the bag, curious of its surroundings. Even after arriving at the final destination, the doll remained in the box and shackled to cardboard.
It wasn't until evening when Jeremy finally opened the bag and put the box on his kitchen table. Jeremy lived alone and didn't need to worry about anyone discovering him playing with dolls. As far as he was concerned, this new toy that looked like Stacy was the main event of the weekend. He had every intention to thoroughly enjoy it!
Perhaps for a subtle hint of a romantic evening, the kitchen lights were switched off, soon to be replaced by the glow of several candles. Anyone watching, however, would have viewed the scene as an evil ritual performed with dolls—especially once the tools would be removed from the box.
Jeremy opened the doll’s package and cut the tie-wraps that secured the doll to the inner cardboard.  The doll could not believe its fate. Was this the hand it had been dealt? The poor doll shared so many hopes and dreams with her boyfriend and was sure they would live in a nice house together while playing with a human child. But from what the doll was concluding; this unattractive and very, creepy human man was the new husband. Life can be so unfair for dolls. To make matters worse, the new owner carefully examined the doll while sipping his beer.
And then he stroked the doll’s butt with his finger. "I see you're wearing your CFPs, Stacy."
Stacy? This was the name for his new wife? The doll didn't like the name Stacy. The real name was printed on the box. Couldn't this stupid man see? And why was he touching her butt? The doll’s boyfriend would not have appreciated this. Too bad he wasn’t there to punch this man out! Her boyfriend was so strong and loved her more than anything. But he wasn't there to protect his girlfriend at that moment, and it looked like it would be necessary to tolerate unwanted fondling.
But there would be more than simple fondling! Jeremy unbuttoned the doll’s blouse to expose the black, lacey bra. "Whoa! They make you dolls with bras?"
Off came the blouse, followed by the slow and careful removal of pants which exposed matching black, lacey panties. Jeremy stood the doll up on the table and stretched out its arms. He was still very surprised that the doll came equipped with such sexy lingerie.
The doll only returned a stare in disbelief. Her boyfriend never did this to her, and she knew that being stripped of her clothes by this sick, ugly man was very wrong.
And he continued with the assault, seeming to enjoy every moment. Jeremy slowly undid her bra while whispering in such a sick, sexual voice, “Now I can take off your bra and play with your tits…” With the doll’s breasts finally exposed, he pulled down the panties until she was completely naked. And then he stood the doll up so her back faced him. "Wow! They make these dolls with an ass like this?"
Anyone would have been surprised to see the naked treasures of the plastic doll; as it was constructed to include a nicely-shaped butt, complete with adorable cheeks.
"I mean had I known you dolls had all this, I would have been doing this years ago!" Jeremy turned the doll around and stroked its breasts. They were a nice size and matched the figure of the doll. But the manufacturer didn't include nipples. This is where Jeremy would take over and add the much needed feature. He opened the toolbox and pulled out a tube of red paint with brush.
The doll was not happy having paint applied to its breasts. But as she would soon find out, this was the least of her worries! Tonight would be the night that Jeremy developed a conversion process that would be used on future dolls brought into the home.
And what was this process that was nothing short of an evil ritual of torture? I won’t dare describe the heinous crime committed to that doll, two hours of unlivable terror for anyone. With the assistance of a precision razor cutter, the doll endured repeated cuts, gouges, little slices and micro-carvings. How she wished with all her might that while he cut, the blade might slip and slice into his thumb. But all the wishing was in vain. None of the future days and nights of torment would come close to the night that the doll’s pristine form had been altered. In the end, Jeremy clipped small shavings of hair from the doll’s head and glued it just above the region that would be considered the doll’s groin.
Throughout these two hours of agonizing torture, Jeremy sensed that the doll was not happy with what was happening. The doll hated him, but he loved every bit of it. For you see, Jeremy was frustrated with his co-worker, Stacy. Stacy was an excellent account manager, highly attractive, but wanted nothing to do with Jeremy. If he showed any interest in her, he was soon humiliated and made to feel insignificant. Now he had Stacy in his captivity, and enjoyed every bit of controlling and dominating her.
When the evil ritual with the doll had been completed, Jeremy stood it up on the table to marvel at his work.
The doll looked terribly distressed, nearly hunched over in agonizing pain from what had been done to her groin. She also appeared furious, almost promising that vengeance would one day be had.
But Jeremy didn’t listen to any of the dolls frightening promises, "How does it feel, Stacy? Go ahead and get mad! Get mad at me you little bitch! There's more to come and you're going to hate me even more."
Interesting thing: Jeremy put the doll away in the toolbox, locked it and then kept it in the trunk of his car overnight. Did he not want the doll in the house while he slept? Did he know that dolls have an ability to come to life and would stop at nothing for sweet revenge?
Sweet dreams, Jeremy! You better hope that doll stays locked up!
Being confined so long in the darkness, I suppose the Stacy’s mind started to play tricks on her. It was in these moments of darkened solitude that she imagined the ability to telepathically communicate with her boyfriend back at the toy store. "Mark? Mark? Do you hear me? It's me. I miss you. I love you."
She could actually hear the voice of her boyfriend. "Where are you? Who took you?"
She sobbed in the dark, "Oh Mark, it’s horrible! This man is terrible and he hurt me badly."
"How did he hurt you?"
Just then she heard the sound of the trunk opening and the lock on the toolbox being undone. Her captor opened the box and immediately grabbed her. "Ha-Ha! I got you! There's no escape!"
Stacy was immediately brought inside along with the small tool box. She was carried up a ladder and into the attic which was illuminated by candlelight. In the center of the attic were two pieces of twine hanging from the ceiling. Stacy was hung upside down by her ankles. She soon took notice of two similar pieces of twine that were tied to the floor by nails. Those two pieces of twine were additionally tied to her wrists. Ultimately, she was tightly suspended, upside-down, in mid-air by her ankles and wrists and waited for what was about to happen next.
Outside of the concerns she had of her captor's unknown plans, Stacy was still eager to see what mutilation had been done to her groin the previous evening. One might think she could just look, but it was necessary to follow the rule given to all dolls: Never self-animate in front of a human. Stacy could only remain motionless and hope for the chance to catch a glance of her mutilated groin.
Stacy felt the scourging of a leather strap across her butt. Jeremy was giving the doll a beating with the belt while wickedly laughing.
“Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha! This is what happens! This is what we do to little teases like you who wear their CFPs. You like that?"
"We strip you down, naked, and smack that tight, little ass of yours. That's right, bitch! Your ass is all mine, tonight!"
He repeatedly flogged and flogged the doll with pure, sickening delight. The candle-light flickered in a hypnotic, strobe-effect while Stacy remained suspended, upside-down, and motionless. The beating, the flickering light, and the fact she was upside-down was beginning to overwhelm the doll. But at some point, the leather strap whacked the back of Stacy’s head and knocked it so she could finally see her groin. Beyond the red dot painted on each breast, Stacy looked in horror at the mutilation that was done. Not only had her captor glued trimmings of her hair just above the groin, but he created a small incision along with additional cuts surrounding the incision.
The flogging was apparently completed, and Jeremy untied the doll. But her torture for the evening was far from over. Stacy would soon learn what the horrible incision was for. In the flickering light, the doll watched in stillness as her captor brought over some device that he apparently constructed himself and set it on a card table. A thin doll-rod was mounted on a block of wood so that the doll-rod stood straight up on a base. At the top of the doll-rod was glued a long nail. But that was only half of Stacy's torture device. Her captor walked over to the corner and brought back a rotating Christmas tree stand. He plugged it in, and placed the doll-rod torture device in the middle.
Stacy’s plastic, little doll-legs were slightly opened. She was slowly and carefully set on the nail in such a way that the incision was penetrated. All the while, Jeremy laughed. Eventually, half of the nail was inserted through Stacy until she was once again suspended in midair. This was more than Stacy could tolerate as she wanted, so badly, to scream out in agony. But she remained true to the rule not to animate in front of a human and simply stared motionless at her evil captor.
Jeremy took notice of the fearful look on Stacy’s face.
"Well, you don't look so stuck-up now."
Jeremy turned on the rotating Christmas tree stand, and sat down in a chair in front of the table. He cracked open a beer and watched the doll rotate in midair. He enjoyed the sight of her adorable butt, the red nipples that hung from her breasts, and the tiny vagina he had created with the sole purpose of torturing her. The doll looked distressed and Jeremy enjoyed it more as he casually sipped his beer.
"Ah... now this is my idea of a date. Aren't you having fun, Stacy?"
Stacy was so distressed that she was becoming unaware of her surroundings. Round and round she went with the sharp nail deeply inserted in her vagina. She could feel her doll magic drain from her body and knew she needed to remain strong. She had to focus.
"Mark? Mark?" she telepathically called out to her boyfriend back at the toy store.
Suddenly his face appeared in front of her and spoke. “What is he doing to you?"
"He's hurting me badly. I can't go on."
“You need to stay strong. Stay strong as your life depends on it. We are organizing a rescue to bring you home."
She wasn't sure if the telepathic conversation was real, or if it she was having a hallucination. Whatever it was; it restored her doll magic, and she just glared at her captor. Although she was alone with him, she could feel the presence of all her doll friends. It was almost as if she could reach out for them and touch them.
Jeremy sensed the doll's increase in energy, and interpreted it to be anger and hatred. “Go ahead and stay mad at me you little bitch! Ha Ha Ha Ha! I love it!” He chugged the remains of his beer and continued to watch in sickening pleasure.
You hate Jeremy, don’t you?
After some time, Jeremy stopped the rotating Christmas tree stand and pulled the doll off his torture device. He was done for the evening. Although very strange to Stacy, her captor put her panties and bra back on along with her clothes. And then she was locked up in the tool box to experience total darkness for what she experienced as a very, long time.
Kept in the trunk for the remainder of the weekend, Stacy was very surprised on Monday morning to find herself in an office with a view of actual sunlight pouring through the windows. The last environment she had seen was the candlelit attic on the night she was tortured by her captor.
Is this where he worked during the day? This was a nice office. There was no way such a rotten man could work in a nice place. The sounds of people could be heard talking and laughing. After being in complete darkness for so long the sights and sounds were most welcome.
But the doll was quickly blocked from that environment when Jeremy threw Stacy in one of his desk drawers. Still, she could hear the sounds of the office. For some reason Stacy felt safe knowing she was not completely alone with her captor.
Jeremy walked out of his office and next door to where his coworker, Stacy, worked. In the meantime, the Stacy-doll was able to faintly here what was happening.
"Hi Stacy, did you have a nice weekend?"
"Yes Jeremy, thanks for asking."
It was a moment of revelation for the doll. This man's name was Jeremy, and she couldn't help but notice that he was talking to someone named Stacy. Of course! Jeremy purchased her to pretend she was Stacy. And just as children use dolls to pretend, Jeremy was using his doll to pretend all the things he wanted to do to Stacy.
"I had a nice weekend too, Stacy."
"That's great Jeremy. Thanks for sharing that with me."
"You want to know what else was great, Stacy? I had bean burritos for dinner last night." With that, Jeremy loudly passed gas.
"You know Jeremy, you're a freaking pig! Get the hell out of here!"
Jeremy walked out of her office and back into his while laughing. He shut the door and quickly opened the drawer where the doll lay."What did you call me you little bitch?" Jeremy grabbed the doll and smacked it in the face on each cheek which violently knocked the doll's head side to side. Imagine having a monstrous giant hold you in his hand while slapping you in the face!
Dolls are incredible creatures. They have a way of studying the world of humans and then silently offer an opinion or some message of hope. Despite all that the doll had been through, Stacy looked at Jeremy and silently communicated her observations along with a means for Jeremy to correct his problem. The doll knew that Jeremy had feelings for whoever Stacy was, but she knew he would never have her by pulling immature pranks like passing gas in front of her. If only he would listen to the doll, it could help him. The doll could show Jeremy how to win Stacy's heart.
Within a second or two, the doll passed this information along to Jeremy in much the same way of silently communicating her unhappiness in being tortured. If Jeremy didn't know any better, he actually felt as if the doll was taking pity on him and offering to be his friend!
Jeremy had no intentions of making friends with his doll. What would a doll know anyway? He opened the drawer and threw Stacy back in where she lay in darkness, listening to the world outside of Jeremy's office.
Later that day Jeremy was called down to Human Resources to discuss a recent complaint of rudely passing gas in a coworker’s office. Jeremy had been to Human Resources on numerous occasions where he met with the HR rep, Tina. At one end, Jeremy enjoyed seeing Tina who was an attractive brunette with blue eyes and gorgeous skin. But she was so businesslike and intimidating to Jeremy. Despite the fact that he would try to move the meeting to a friendlier tone, Tina remained businesslike and intimidating, making Jeremy feel like the person he truly was—an immature pig who shouldn't have a job with the company, much less work in the profession.
Still, Jeremy really liked Tina, maybe more-so than he liked Stacy. She seemed to make friends with other people in the company. Why not him? He fantasized about being in a relationship with her on numerous occasions; but with the fact that she was very, much engaged, he didn't think it was within the realm of possibility. But then he realized a way that he could have her!
Stacy was learning that much of her existence was now spent locked up in darkness while remaining in a desk drawer, the trunk of a car or the old tool box that sat in Jeremy's attic. After spending Monday in Jeremy's desk, she was allowed to see about 5 seconds of daylight before being dropped in the small tool box which, unbeknown to Stacy, was then put in Jeremy's book bag that he carried to work. She struggled to be aware of the surroundings. As far as she could determine, Stacy was riding around in the back trunk of Jeremy's car, and then remained there in solitude for an undetermined amount of time. It was during these lonely, dark times that Stacy desperately attempted more telepathic communication with her boyfriend at the toy store. It was this connection that seemed to be keeping her alive.
"Mark? Can you hear me?"
"Yes! Where are you?”
"I'm in the trunk of his car. He leaves me in darkness. I wish I could come home and be with you. I miss you so much Mark!"
Stacy assumed that telepathic communication didn't work as efficiently as speaking directly to someone. Although she was thinking sentences to him, Stacy assumed her boyfriend would only receive feelings or images. Perhaps this is why his thoughts to her were always the same.
"Be strong Stacy! We are coming to rescue you. You need to be strong."
She wondered if her boyfriend and all the dolls were, in fact, organizing a rescue mission. How would they find her? And where would they go once the rescue was complete? Even worse, would Mark accept her now that she had been mutilated and marked with paint by her captor?
Stacy heard Jeremy's trunk open and further listened as he dropped in a plastic bag. The trunk was slammed shut and the sensation of the car moving could be felt. The car traveled for some time.
Stacy was beginning to understand the sudden bump was an indicator that her captor had made it home. And this was the time that Stacy grew apprehensive. It meant that she would be alone with him to experience more torture.
She didn't know which room she was located, but she knew she was back at her captor's house, waiting for another round of torture. The anticipation of torture was worse than torture itself. What was he doing? He just left her in the tool box while doing something else. She could hear a bag rustling around and a package being opened. And he seemed to be talking to himself.
"It looks just like Tina… Oooo! Sexy green…! These should not be suitable for children…. Oh man! That is amazing! Look at you!"
Then Stacy’s captor opened the tool box where she lay. From what Stacy could see while gazing out of the toolbox, they were in the candlelit attic. In this environment, she changed her mind of the previous notion. Anticipation of torture was not as bad as torture. At least when waiting, one is not being tortured. But then Jeremy moved her aside and reached for the red paint, the brush and the precision blade. With Stacy still in the toolbox, he closed the lid and locked it.
Oh no! Did Jeremy buy another doll? Was he torturing another doll in the same way that she had been tortured? And if so, what would this mean for Stacy? Would she be disposed of or destroyed?
Stacy listened carefully for any clues.
"Okay, I need to make this more exciting for myself. Let's do a coin toss. Heads: I do my favorite part first. Tails: you win."
The sound of a coin toss could be heard from outside the box. "Ha ha! Heads: I WIN!"
There wasn't much noise after that. If it weren't for an occasional cough coming from Jeremy, Stacy would have thought she was alone. Whatever he was doing, it seemed to be taking a long time. She suspected her evil captor to be doing something just as awful as he had done on her first night alone with Jeremy.
And then he spoke. "There! You're beautiful! Just like Tina! I will call you Tina! I'd love to try you out, tonight, but we've got to let everything dry first. The fun will have to wait until tomorrow, and it will give me something to look forward to."
Stacy listened attentively and gathered that Jeremy had, in fact, purchased a new doll and put it through the same torment she had experienced. And then the toolbox was opened. The new doll was dropped in and the lid quickly shut. The two dolls were now in darkness. Stacy was relieved that tonight wasn't another night of torture for her. But what of the doll that lay in the dark with her? What did she endure in her hours alone with Jeremy? Stacy waited for the sound of Jeremy exiting the attic.
Fear... Terror... Pain... Anger... Confusion: these were the feelings that Stacy could sense radiating from the other doll. Was the other doll aware that she was in the toolbox with Stacy? It was, after all, very dark in the box. Satisfied that the attic was void of any humans, Stacy softly called out to the other doll, "Is somebody there?"
The other doll screamed in fright. Imagine spending hours alone with a captor who tortured you only to be left in a dark box to hear the voice of someone else whispering. Surely the other doll wondered if this was another victim of Jeremy’s. It was the unknown that terrified the new doll along with the knowledge that she had met the same fate as some other unfortunate doll.
"Shh… Shh... Easy, I'm another doll like you.” Stacy announced. “He locks me in here, too.”
Suddenly the other doll felt as though she knew Stacy."Your voice sounds familiar… Kara?" (Kara was Stacy’s original name back at the toy store.)
Stacy, too, recognized the voice in the dark. "Rachel?"
"Oh my gosh; what are you doing here?"
Rachel let out a sob."That's what I'm wondering."
Stacy groped in the dark until finding Rachel. The two had been very, good friends at the toy store and wondered how and why the other ended up in such a horrible place.
Stacy accidentally bumped into the area that had been mutilated on her friend.
"Ouch! Careful, he did something down there."
"Yes, I know. I'm so sorry. He did that to me too."
"Why does he do that?"
"He's a rotten, evil man. I can't understand him."
As the weeks and months progressed; Jeremy built a large collection of female dolls of other co-workers, neighbors and acquaintances that all had one thing in common: they thought Jeremy was a creepy pig who was perverted, obnoxious and rude.
To ensure he had constant control on these dolls, Jeremy cut a hole in the wall of his office and built shelves to keep his torture-dolls locked up during the day. One afternoon he took great delight in torturing a new doll named Sally in his office. About half dozen dolls remained tied up and gagged on shelves in the open wall of Jeremy’s office. They watched in horror as poor Sally sat on Jeremy’s lap, naked. He repeatedly slapped the doll across the face while sometimes pausing to run the flame of a cigarette lighter against her breasts. The doll could no longer tolerate the torture and finally broke the rule of not self-animating in front of a human. In shocking her captor by suddenly coming to life, Sally managed to get away. She ran for the office door and attempted to sneak under the crack while screaming for help.
Jeremy grabbed the doll just in time before anyone could hear and covered its mouth.
The doll bit Jeremy’s hand, hard. He had no choice but to tape Sally’s mouth shut and tie it up good and tight. He threw the doll in his bag and promised it would pay later that night. "You're going to pay for this; I promise. You're going to wish you hadn't tried that."
Later that night, Jeremy brought the Sally doll home along with the half-dozen others. Let's just say Sally was severely tortured for trying to escape earlier in the afternoon. He hung the doll up-side-down by its feet and whipped it with his belt for quite some time. And as a treat, he decided he should punish the other dolls along with Sally so none of them would get the idea of escaping.
This just angered the collection of dolls even more. They were fed up with the months of senseless torture and declared once and for all that Jeremy needed to be stopped.
Ironically that very night, there was something new that worked in the dolls’ favor. With the sudden reality of dolls coming to life, Jeremy no longer brought them to work because of the escape risk. Surely this would provide the dolls some alone time to figure out how to escape while their captor was at work.
It took only one afternoon, alone, for the dolls to successfully crack the lock of the suitcase and escape. But their captor still needed to be punished. They decided it would be best to allow one doll to hide since one missing out of 30 wouldn't be noticed by Jeremy. Stacy was the doll elected to do this. She was the first, and considered the leader of the group.  She would hide and allow her dolls to endure one, final night of torture; then wait for Jeremy to fall asleep after he locked up all the dolls in the suitcase in the attic.
As he did every night, Jeremy enjoyed his final night of torturing the dolls—although he wasn't aware that this was his last. The evening ritual was becoming a sick hobby for Jeremy as he thought of more and more techniques for torturing the dolls. In fact, he forgot that the dolls were only representations of women he knew. He was now simply living out sick fantasies and developing a serious mental problem.
Later that night when Jeremy fell asleep, Stacy came out of hiding and released the other 29 dolls from the suitcase. They hunted and searched the home for rope and tape and just about anything they could find to bound and gag Jeremy who remained sleeping. And when Jeremy woke up the following morning to turn off his alarm, he was horrified to realize he couldn't move.
Jeremy was tied up in much the same way as when the little people tied up Gulliver in Gulliver's Travels. Stacy turned off the alarm clock for Jeremy and spoke out, "Now it's our turn you sick monster! Now you will find out what it feels like!"
All 30 dolls aggressively pushed pins throughout Jeremy’s body while biting him and cutting him with razor blades. Jeremy screamed for help, but no one could hear him. Maybe the dolls even enjoyed hearing his whimpers and cries for help.
It was Stacy who was given the honor to do the final act of sexual mutilation. With a razor blade, she sliced Jeremy’s little penis in half—just like a hotdog.  The dissection started at the urethra as the utility blade moved back in forth like a saw, slicing its way to the base near the scrotum.
Jeremy screamed in shock and disbelief while pools of blood squirt out from his groin.
When the much-deserved punishment had been administered, Stacy secured both halves of his dissected penis to the inner thighs with pins. It looked exactly like a dissected worm from some biology class. Afterwards, she went to the police—ran out of the house and down the street; through the doors of the police station. Stacy told them everything. She told them about the months of sexual torture and unbearable humiliation received by her and 29 other dolls.
When the police arrived at the scene of the crime, Jeremy lay secured in bed with over 600 pins inserted in his body along with several hundred razor blade slices and bite marks. His penis was a mangled up mess as Jeremy lay barely conscious.
He was rushed to the hospital and treated. When brought back to health he was sentenced to prison just for being a sick bastard!
The dolls now live on a remote island in a miniature townhouse complex made out of jumbo mushrooms—much like the same village the Smurfs live in. They have put the months of brutal torture and humiliation behind them and their emotional scars have all healed. Stacy now devotes her time to managing an outreach program that rescues dolls from creeps like Jeremy who delight in torturing them. According to Stacy, no doll should endure the amount of agony that she and her other 29 friends had to endure.
So if you are one of those creepy guys who like to play with and torture dolls, look out! They are soon to have their revenge!


Tuesday, August 18, 2015

Moldy Lemon Acid Trips

Hello All:
I'm running a little behind schedule this morning. But that's okay. I've got a new story for you. Have you ever tried Moldy Lemon acid trips? I've heard that you can really trip your balls off when taking them.
Moldy Lemon Acid Trips
Andrey is one of those—shall we say—entrepreneurs who don't believe in working for other people. To reiterate; this means that he is very much against working a regular job as a source of stable income. Oh, he might get a part time job every now in then if in dire need of finances. But he doesn't stay too long. You see, time is precious for Andrey. He could be using that time to develop his own business ventures.
He's so clever and creative; a real thinker who stays well outside of the box. Take for example the time he mustered enough motivation to clean out his filthy refrigerator that was overstocked with moldy, rotting food. While rummaging through all the stink, and discarding food that had expired over six months ago; Andrey discovered a plastic bag that contained four rotten, moldy lemons. You've certainly heard the wisdom of what to do when life hands you lemons. You make lemonade, of course! But what do you do when life hands you moldy lemons?
"Throw them out."—you might answer?
Well this is what Andrey did when first discovering the bag of moldy lemons. He did so while commenting out loud, "I can't see any use for these. I'd probably starting hallucinating and seeing things with all that mold mixing with citrus acid. It would be a new kind of LSD."
And then a light bulb went off in Andrey's head. Immediately he removed the bag of moldy lemons from the garbage can, and then slammed the refrigerator door shut. Cleaning the refrigerator was now over. It was time to go to work and invent something new and revolutionary that would change the world.
Andrey reached into the sink for a dirty cutting board that had laid there for two weeks. It now had dried up tomato slop and seeds smeared all over it. He would have used this cutting board on that weekend that he thought he would start eating salads more often.
So much for that bright idea! He never used the cutting board, again!
Andrey was about to rinse the cutting board off, but realized that the chemicals from the tomato could very well mix with the mold and citrus acid from the lemons to make a highly potent sort of hallucinogenic acid.
The same knife that was used to slice up the tomato from two weeks ago lay in the sink as well. Andrey used this to cut into the moldy, rotting lemons in an attempt to make slices. Mold, slime and rotting matter squished all over the cutting board. Andrey scraped the mutilated, decomposing matter of all four lemons into the blender. Within five minutes he had a dirty, yellow liquid.
Andrey next went online, and downloaded some poster images of lemon rings. A couple dozen of these were printed up, soon to be dropped into a tray of liquidated, moldy lemons. The freshly-manufactured sheets of what Andrey now called, Moldy Lemon acid trips, were laid out on the countertop to fully dry. They would sit there for over four days until fully dry.
Of course there was no guarantee that an individual trip (small square of paper) of this Moldy Lemon acid would actually get a user off. This is why Andrey sat in his family room on a Friday night and laid a square of Moldy Lemon onto his tongue.
There was a subtle lemon flavor to the square of acid that left a slight tingling sensation to the tongue. Outside of that, the Moldy Lemon trip tasted nasty! It triggered that "shit-eating grin" that might be considered the body's way of urging, "Please do not eat/drink that!" But Andrey disobeyed the warning. He sucked all the juice from the square of paper and even swallowed the paper to ensure he received the full effect.
Andrey sat on the sofa and gazed out the glass patio door at the setting sun. It wouldn't be long before he started tripping. Maybe the sun would melt, or the stars would swirl and dance around in the sky. To be honest; Andrey never tripped on LSD, psilocybin, or mescaline. So he had no idea of what to expect. But within twenty minutes, Andrey received more than he bargained for!
Waves of nausea and cold sweat overcame Andrey that were so powerful that he had to run to the bathroom and vomit. From there he lay on the dirty, tiled floor while marveling at how ill he felt. He did this while staring at the flowered wall paper. And Andrey experienced stomach cramps like never before that were followed by uncontrollable diarrhea and more vomiting. It was necessary to lay cold washrags onto his forehead and neck.
"Ugh... I don't feel good at all!" cried Andrey. I feel like I'm dying..." And that was the moment when Andrey congratulated himself. "This must be some wicked acid! I actually believe that I'm dying! I'm freaking out really bad; tripping my balls off!"
Two days were necessary for Andrey to recover from his trip. This gave him plenty of time to plan the next step of his business venture. He had a wicked acid that people might be willing to pay top dollar for just to experience the same things that he did. But where could he find these people? There isn't a huge population of people walking the streets who are in search of acid.
Now at the time, The Grateful Dead was in the middle of a tour. And this was in recent years when the band continued to perform after the sad loss of Jerry Garcia (just a couple of years before the band officially broke up—to be precise). And it just so happened that the Grateful Dead would be performing in the nearby city where Andrey lived. Everybody knows that dead heads enjoy tripping on acid during Grateful Dead concerts! Surely they would enjoy Moldy Lemon acid trips.
But it would require Andrey to purchase tickets; something very difficult to do being that he had little money. That's when Andrey received another brilliant idea. He used Photoshop along with picture editing software to create a counterfeit ticket for the Grateful Dead. Upon printing it up, Andrey congratulated himself of how talented he was.
Oh, but the people taking tickets at the gate along with security were not fooled by Andrey's counterfeit ticket. "Sorry, sir; but it appears that this is counterfeit."
"Counterfeit??? What??? No way!" exclaimed Andrey.
"I'm afraid it is." answered the security guard. "We can't let you in. You need to make sure that you buy your tickets from reputable sources."
Nearly discouraged, Andrey could only walk away and stand at a nearby street corner where other concert goers with legitimate tickets for the Grateful Dead passed. Perhaps he could try selling his Moldy Lemon acid trips on the street corner.
Andrey inconspicuously stuck out his tongue while pretending to lay something on it—like a piece of paper. He would do this whenever a small group of dead heads passed. "Need some cid... Need some cid..." he whispered."
"No, man, we're okay. Thanks."
After ten minutes, Andrey finally found an interested pair of apparent dead heads. They approached Andrey, and excitedly asked, "Do you have some?"
"Yes I do!" affirmed Andrey. How much do you need?”
"Well is it real?" challenged one of the dead heads."I mean I don't want no paper in my mouth, if you know what I mean! Dudes get beat up pretty bad for stuff like that. We remember what you look like, and then come find you later. So is this stuff real?"
"Hell yeah it's real!" reassured Andrey. "I've got Moldy Lemon acid trips. But you better watch out! This stuff will make you trip your balls off your at least a couple of days."
"Yeah!" exclaimed one of the dead heads. "Now that's what I'm talking about! Let me tell you, I've had Green Curtains, Black Dragons, Bart Simpsons; but I've never tried Moldy Lemons! Hook me up, bro!"
"Sure thing!" acknowledged Andrey. So excited with his first sale of the evening, he reached into his backpack for a small, plastic bag of individual squares of paper. Maybe these dead heads would spread the word so that more would come to find Andrey.
"Twenty dollars!" declared Andrey.
With that, one of the dead heads opened his wallet and presented a police badge. "Sir, you're under arrest for possession and intent to distribute controlled substances."
"What???" exclaimed Andrey. "No!!! This isn't even real LSD!"
"That's not what you said a moment ago." said the other office while placing handcuffs on Andrey.
And so children; what does it all mean? What can we learn from this story?
When life hands you moldy lemons; make fake LSD out of it, and then print up counterfeit tickets to a Grateful Dead concert that doesn't include the late Jerry Garcia. Sell that fake LSD to undercover narcotics agents.
Either that, or throw them out!

The End!