Author Topic: The Real Me  (Read 1544 times)

Offline Skygazer

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The Real Me
« on: September 27, 2017, 10:32:07 PM »
The Real Me by Skygazer

The Real Me

I kicked and struggled with all my might as my face was shoved into the watery mud. My body tensed as I flailed about, held down by my rapist as he tried to drown me in less than two inches of water. I was going to die in a fucking puddle. That’s what blew my mind the most. Not that I had been raped and beaten, used like a living fleshlight. No. It was that I was drowning in a motherfucking mud puddle. How the fuck did I get here to die like this? The answer is simple; I was obsessed with rape.

Why would I be obsessed with rape you ask? I wish I could tell you I was molested as a child or daddy beat me or my uncle got me drunk. I wish I could say all that but none of it would be true. The truth is, there is no reason, unless it’s genetic. Even when I was a bit younger, like 8 or so, I always liked kidnapping scenes. I was nine when I got my first tingle when the woman held hostage got slapped hard. Then, one day during the summer just three years ago when I was twelve, I stayed up late to watch movies that mom and dad wouldn’t have approved of. My mom hated horror movies and forbade me from watching them. So, of course, that’s what I decided to watch. Watching “The Last House on the Left” cemented it for me. That was the first time I got wet watching a movie. That also was the first time I fingered myself to orgasm. Some quick internet searching led me to the original 1970’s movie. More searches led me to the “I Spit on Your Grave” movies and eventually even “Irreversible”. After that, I was hooked.

So, you may ask, what is a girl addicted to rape movies and videos like in real life? You’d be disappointed. My name is Samantha, 15, and a sophomore in at Anderson High School. Total teen slut right? Nope, sorry to disappoint you. What I am is a straight A student and member of the Quick Recall team. Sexually, I’m pretty boring. I’ve given a few handjobs and blowjobs, made out some, but I’m actually a virgin. It’s not that I was frigid or anything, guys just bored me. It’s not that my libido didn’t work, I was horny all the time. It’s just that what excited me, I couldn’t find at school, at least not without being far more forward than I wanted to be. See, it’s cool for guys to fuck around. Hell, it’s even getting to be cool for a girl to be “sex positive” and be active and in control. What it isn’t cool to be is submissive or even worse acknowledge that you want to be brutally raped. And that was what I wanted. It’s what I thought about, it’s what I went on tumblr to find. I read stories, light and dark and masturbated to them. Everyone saw this at least near virginal perfect girl and it was all a lie. I know what I saw in the mirror. A dirty fuckhole who wanted to be hurt, beat, and used. To have no control over my life.

Maybe it was all my pressure my parents put on me to excel. It’s probably not fair to dump all the blame on them, maybe genetics were involved as well. Maybe I had a mental illness, undiagnosed. We had a girl at school who had to relocate after she had early onset Type 1 Bipolar Disorder. Sounds sad right? Well, what a lot of people don’t know is a lot of people, men and women, with that disorder tend to get hyper-sexual when manic. She fucked ten guys at a party while running around like she was on coke, all of it on film. One of the guys, a senior, went to jail for forwarding the video of her fucking around since she was only 16. After that, one day, she was just gone and her family’s house had a “For Sale” sign out front. Now, I’m not manic, nor depressive so if my head’s fucked up, it’s something different.

My life consisted of only a few constants. School and its associated activities were number one priority. Grades, grades, grades. My parents basically didn’t give a fuck about me or what I did as long as I maintained my 4.0. Second, was my small circle of friends. Sadly, my friends list was an ocean wide but a foot deep. Oh, I knew tons of people, even the right people, to go to parties and the like, but it was all empty. None of them really knew me, the real me, and to be fair I didn’t give a damn about most of them either. It was a social dance to complement my academic work and barely anything more. The rest were my parents, but let’s be honest, I was just a trophy for them to show off to their friends. Their perfect little angel who checked off all the right marks. Their only child who could do no wrong.

The rest of my “real” life was my hidden life. My parents were not computer savvy, so it was easy to hide my activities from them. They didn’t know about the violent and depraved sites I visited. Places like rapebaitacademy.com, or other violent or misogynistic tumblrs. They didn’t know about sites on Reddit I visited. /r/shelikesitrough or /r/abuseporn2 were personal favorites of mine. Most importantly, they didn’t know about the rooms I visited on Chatstep.com. The violent roleplays I’d have with older men. They’d tell me I was a stupid broken piece of shit, who only existed to be used, fucked, and thrown away. God, the hours I’d get off talking to them.

It didn’t take long for simple conversations to be enough, of course. The men wanted pictures of the thirteen onward girl they were talking to. At first it was just pictures of my face I’d send, but then it got more and more. Handbra at first, but soon, I was sharing full nudes with strangers. I always ignored the people around my age. Thirty and older was all I talked with online. No daddies or sugerdaddies either. Only men who treated me like shit would get my pics. Some started sending me mail, even. One guy told me how to set up a PO Box, and that was how I got my first vibrator. I got money, slutty clothes, even some pot and coke. I also got my first HD webcam and burner phone with the coke. The guy set up a private chat and I did a line and used my new presents as he told me what a worthless fuckhole I was. I snapchatted, streamed, sent videos to men debasing myself. Every single one of them told me what a cunt I was, that I was shit, that I deserved to be beaten. And I came, every night. I started having trouble sleeping if I didn’t go online, and often found myself shaking and crying myself to sleep. School was pretend, my parents and friends were pretend. The only thing that was real was at night when I let down my mask and fucked myself for strangers hurling abuse at me.

Eventually, one of them asked to meet. We weren’t going to meet for coffee, or a quick fuck in a hotel. He was blunt and to the point. He wanted to meet me and rape me. I gave him my burner phone number and my address and we set up at time a couple weeks from then. I know what you’re thinking and yes it was stupid. I hadn’t even ever fucked a guy, and I was going to meet someone who wanted to rape me. I didn’t give him conditions or safewords, just my location and how to contact me. I received at my PO Box some clothes. In it was a tube top and a leather micro skirt. Also included was an anal plug that I was to wear. I loved it actually. I’d only fingered my ass but it was smallish with a jewel at the back. The wait was unbearable and I found myself struggling to even keep up my mask. Again, I don’t deny that I might be mentally ill, but I had never felt more alive, aware, in tune with the world than the days before.

Eventually the day came, it was a Saturday and my parents would be gone most of the day. Despite being a straight A student, I hadn’t even thought of a cover story. My parents didn’t worry to much, but I had no idea when I was going to be getting back home or what shape I would be in. Again, I had never had sex with anyone and here I was, meeting a guy close to 50 to rape me. I stood before the mirror and checked myself out in it. I had followed his directions to the T. My hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, long and recently dyed a platinum blonde that reached between my shoulder blades. He had regularly told me that dumb fucks like myself should always be blonde to help advertise how fucking brainless we were. I wore heavy eyeshadow and eyeliner. He hadn’t mentioned why but I had seen porn videos. I knew he wanted to see my mascara and makeup running down my cheeks. My lips were a bright bold red, he said I had the lips of a natural cock sucker. I always smiled when he said that. Fucked up I know.

Clothes wise, I had two layers, so I wouldn’t draw undue attention. Despite it being summer and already unbearably hot, I was wearing a fully buttoned blouse and a long flowing skirt. Both were on the larger side, so outside of the heat, I was comfortable. Underneath them, I couldn’t have been dressed more differently. On my top half, I only had the tube top, two sizes too small to contain my 36C breasts. The tube top covered most of my breasts, but I had quite visible underboob peeking out on the bottom. Below that, I only wore two more items. The microskirt barely covered my ass, again leaving me with what I guess you’d call underbutt hanging out. I had tried sitting down and other than fully crossing my legs, it was impossible to sit and not expose my freshly waxed pussy. Another condition of his. Last, but certainly not least, was the plug pressed firmly into my anus. It had been harder than I had expected to pop it in, but also unexpectedly, it was fairly comfortable once in. I wore no panties or bra and once I was with him, I knew the blouse and long skirt would be tossed aside. I reached down and felt myself and I was already soaked in anticipation. I sat back down and put on my tallest heels, bright red and also four inches. He said I should look like the whore I am and I did. I checked my watch and it was time for me to head on out.

I lived about a quarter mile from a shopping center with a Wal-mart and I was to meet him behind it. I walked and in the heat, I was already sweating some by the time I arrived. Part of me wanted to ditch the top layer of clothing but I knew if someone drove by I’d look like a hooker and too much attention. So instead, I waited patiently. All I had was a small purse and I pulled out the cigarettes he had sent me. I’d only smoked a few, to get the feel of it, but he insisted a proper white trash whore smoked. I lit up and smoked one, then two cigarettes while waiting for him. I had lit a third, taking a deep drag and blowing smoke out of my nose when a car pulled around and stopped. It was a cargo van, with faded plumbing signage, which is what I’d been told to expect. The door opened and a muscular if overweight man climbed out, looking me over.

“Take off the layers, cunt. Show me,” was all he said. I started to put out the cigarette and he told me to keep smoking. So I kept the cigarette in my mouth as I started unbuttoning. As I did that, he pulled out a small but professional looking video camera, filming it. I set my blouse down and then pushed down and stepped out of my flowing skirt. It felt like a magic show. One second I looked like a respectable girl, the next I looked like a whore. I stood there nervously as he filmed me, telling me to spin around. I did as he said.

“Where should I put my clothes?” I asked him and he gave me a dark grin. He picked them up and reached in the van and put them in a large Ziploc bag. Then he walked over to the dumpster and tossed them in with the trash. I think that was the first time I felt scared. I didn’t understand why he’d thrown my clothes away.

“Why’d you….HNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNn”

I hadn’t even seen his hand move. One second he was walking towards me, the next, I was holding my cheek and my ear, stumbling and dazed.

“Don’t ask questions you stupid cunt,” he said, grabbing my arm hard and dragging me, stumbling after him, to the van. He opened the door and shoved me in, still shaking for slap. I sat there, stunned as he got in and we drove off. Once we got on the road he told me to turn my legs towards him so I did, my feet in the gap between our seats.

“Spread them cunt,” was all he growled at me and I did. His hand darted between my legs and the skirt that barely covered my ass and didn’t cover my crotch at all. I grunted, dripping wet, as his fingers pierced me, as he roughly jabbed them deep in me. He pulled his hand out of me and shoved his fingers in my face, smearing my juices on them.

“You said you were virgin cunt.”

“I am. I’ve used a vibrator a guy sent me though,” I said and the look he gave me was pure fury.

“I wanted a cherry cunt,” and he backhanded the shit out of me then. My head flew back and I hit the door, shaking. I was scared and excited though, everything was so primal and I smiled at him. He almost froze at that smile and looked at me hard.

“What the fuck are you smiling at you stupid piece of shit?” he asked.

“That hurt. I liked it,” I said, smiling defiantly. He immediately started pulling off the road, which confused me. Then he started chuckling which I will admit, despite my mood, bothered me.

“Hurt? You think that hurt?” I nodded yes, my eyes locked on his. Then he stroked my hair gently, before balling a chunk of it in his fist.

“Close your eyes bitch,” he demanded. I did as he asked, sitting there, parked, engine idling. The next thing I felt was his fist slamming straight into my right eye and my head slamming into the window behind it. The weird thing, at the moment, it barely seemed to hurt. The two events, fist hitting my eye, and my head hitting the glass, seemed to happen at the same time. Then, I felt like I was aware but I couldn’t focus and none of my muscles seemed to respond. I tried to reach up to protect my face but instead I fell forward, between the front seats. Then everything went to black.

The first thing I felt was pain. This wasn’t the sharp sting from the earlier slap or even the dull burn from the backhand. This was real pain. The second was that my vision was messed up. I slowly realized I was on the floor of the van, which was still moving. I didn’t know how much time had passed but when I tried to push myself up, nausea overwhelmed me and I puked, shaking. I felt a hand grip me and effortlessly toss me into the passenger seat. I slumped in it, drooling bile. He said something and when I didn’t respond, he slapped the top of my thigh making me yelp.

“I said, you stupid cunt, now do you hurt? Do you understand what real pain is?” I nodded and immediately regretted it. Everyone spun and I leaned back, my eyes rolling up in my head. My head throbbed and my face felt tight around my right eye.

“Mmmm, you look so much prettier now you stupid cow. Look in the mirror.” I did as told, and I understood my pain and vision issues. My right eye was heavily swollen almost fully shut, skin bruised a dark purple. For the first time, I was scared in a way that didn’t make me wetter.

“Did you think I was joking cunt when I said I was gonna rape and destroy you online? Did you think I’d just slap you around some. You’re shit, you’re meat that needs to be tenderized. Now, if you value your fucking life, get that whore mouth on my cock now.”

I’ll be honest, I’d cyber’d some “bad” rape roleplays online, including with this gentleman. Roleplays that involved me being seriously hurt and worse. I was never even scared during them, every time I’d hurt myself, I’d only gotten hotter, wetter. I had thought that there was no threshold that would limit my enjoyment. I had been wrong. I still leaned over, and took his cock out of his pants and into my mouth. Despite everything, I even reached down and fingered myself. It was uncomfortable and only got worse when he reached over and felt my plug in my ass. He spanked me once, far lighter than I expected, and then readjusted himself. I felt his hand on my head, shoving it down hard on his cock. I gagged a bit, struggling to breathe through my running nose. My eye hurt so bad, but I didn’t dare stop. His warm meat was soon punching at my throat as he shoved painfully down on my head. My nose was smushed against him. I was just doing anything to breathe when he started hitting the back of my head hard with his palm as he thrusted in my throat. I choked hard and it wasn’t before long my mouth was filled with both my bile and his warm cum. He growled for me to swallow and as soon as I had, he tossed me back in my seat. I struggled to breathe, wiping my mouth, my head hurting so bad I just wanted to cry.

“Keep on rubbing yourself whore, we’ll be there soon.”

I looked down and realized that I was still touching myself and went back to fingering myself slowly, legs spread for him. I was soaked and just confused and overwhelmed and just cried quietly as I fingered myself to a mini-orgasm. He seemed amused at my confused emotional state, savoring it. I kept rubbing my pussy, looking around occasionally. It was clear we were in a forest, though not being the outdoors type, I couldn’t have said where. The road was paved, but narrow, with heavy woods on each side. There was no clock in the van and I had no phone, not that I would have even reached for it if I had. I didn’t know if I’d been out for seconds or hours, although the sun wasn’t setting so it couldn’t be too late.

Soon, he turned onto a small gravel road, and after another ten minutes, turned off the road and pulled into a small gully next to a dried creekbed. He turned off the engine and turned and simply stared at me. The smell of my earlier vomit was strong in the hot van and the quiet was almost unbearable.

“What now?” I asked in a whisper. He grinned and told me to crawl to the back of the van. I knelt down in my stale vomit, still warm as it flowed around my hand. I started to crawl back when he stopped me. His fingers slid along my wet hole, teasing me which elicited a moan from my mouth. Then his fingers gripped the jewel of the plug he had sent me and jerked it out. I turned back to him and he was there, smiling and filming me again.

“Suck on your pacifier you stupid whore,” he said, offering me the plug. Full of shame I took the plug into the mouth, sucking on it as he filmed me. I didn’t know if he was filming me for himself, or if he was going to post it online. It didn’t really matter anyway, there was no way already that I could that something happened. I couldn’t even see out of my right eye anymore. I sucked on the metal plug, tasting my ass and when he slapped my ass, crawled forward towards the back of the van. I heard him walking behind me and finally as I got near the doors, was told to stop.

“Spread your legs, face to the ground. Then reach back and spread your holes whore.”

I placed my face to the warm plastic coated floor and reached back, spreading my cheeks and lips as best I could. The light from the hand camera illuminated me quite well and I felt him dip his finger in my pussy, then my ass. He then stepped back and I glanced at him as he set up a tripod. He then pulled out a few smaller webcams and placed them around us, aiming them at me. Throughout this, he said nothing to me and other than moving my head slightly, I didn’t move. He lit a cigarette and took a deep drag, before kneeling beside me and placing it in my mouth. I took a deep drag, and blew the smoke out my nose, not exactly comfortable in my position.

“Is this correct cunt?” he asked me as he took the cigarette back from my mouth, placing a card in front of my face. My chest thundered as I saw it. It was everything of mine. My name, my date of birth, my social security number, my phone number, my email, regular and one for the porn sites. It even had my Instagram and Facebook accounts listed on it. I just nodded and felt cold inside. That info wasn’t for him. He placed it in front of a webcam on the side of the van, displaying my personal information to the video feed. He then knelt behind me and I felt myself moaning again as he slid his cock along my wet lips and teased it around my ass. The tube top barely was keeping my tits contained and the skirt, by this point was a joke. He didn’t even need to push it over my waist. I grunted softly as he pushed slowly into my pussy, just getting inside me.

“Fuck it whore”

I pushed myself up a bit and grinded against his cock, feeling it slip in me deeper and deeper. It felt good, different from a vibrator. It was warm and seemed to fit my pussy better. I looked around at the cameras as he sat behind me on his knees, letting me fuck myself on him while he smoked. This went on for a couple minutes before I felt him lean over me, gripping my hips. He pressed deep in me and my legs quivered as I moaned. That’s when I started screaming. He was no longer smoking, instead he was putting out the cigarette in my ass cheek. I sobbed at the sudden pain and wailed. I tried to pull away but he held me easily.

“Ah, did that hurt?” he taunted me. “You’ll be begging for that later bitch”

With that, he started slamming into my pussy. Whatever enjoyment I had been getting at first was gone. It was more like he was trying to tear into my body now and I wailed under me, shaking with every violent thrust. I tried to pull away but that’s when he started hitting me. The small of my back, my sides, my shoulder blades. These were not slaps but full on punches. I was screaming, I was hysterical, I was crying, and I was orgasming. There is no word for the pain I was feeling at the moment as he pounded and punched me, again and again. He was over twice my weight and I just folded under his assault. He was screaming things, names, whore, cunt, meathole, but I could barely focus on any of it.

He slammed my face into the van floor and my nose exploded I pain. I tasted copper and heard a sickening crunch. No, I felt the sickening crunch as my head hit the floor. He pounded into my pussy, shoving me along the floor, occasional punches into my back and side for variety. And I still came. I wasn’t even horny, not like when people abused me online, but I was still cumming. I then realized three things. I was indeed a cunt, a meathole, a stupid fucking whore, if I was cumming from this. I was very likely going to die today. And that I didn’t care. I felt alive and like I was dying. It was intense, it was horrible, it was right. I shuddered and sobbed, my face numb. I didn’t know it, but my other eye had blackened when my nose had shattered on floor. My face was soaked in blood and blood trickled between my legs. My back was a mass of bruises. I was so awash in pain, I didn’t even realize when he pushed in me deep and came in me. I just know one moment he was holding me up and the next I had collapsed on my side. I was barely conscious.

I laid there, sobbing and convulsing, as he wiped his cock off in my hair. He then got up and opened the back doors to the van and hopped out. I heard him rummaging around in the van behind me, but I was honestly in too much pain to know or care. I just twitched and curled up, barely able to even see with my swollen eyes. Blood bubbles came out of my nose as I wheezed drifting in and out of consciousness. Then I felt my leg being grabbed and I was pulled out of the van and thrown over his shoulder. I heard him shut the van doors and then he started walking while carrying me. After a few minutes, I was tossed to the ground hard. He then grabbed my hair and dragged me a few feet before pushing me over a fallen tree. I only moaned as he spread my legs again and felt him shoving in my ass. It hurt immediately and shook me back to full awareness.

“GUHNnnn… God… Nnn… No… Please,” I screamed as he jabbed at my ass again and again. Outside of the plug, nothing had been done to prepare my ass and I screamed as blood ran over my mouth and chin. He slammed into me dry, tearing into my ass, his weight crushing me against the log. My face hung inches from the dirt as he rode me.

“MMMmmm fuck yeah you stupid whore. Like being raped now? You gonna cum fuckbag?”

I just wailed, as his cock pistoned in and out of my now bleeding rear, blood and frothy shit leaking slowly between my cheeks. He resumed his hitting of me as I screamed for him with every punch. Soon, I was bucking with what little strength I had against him. Soon he started to moan, and that’s when he started punching fast and hard the back of my head. After the second hit, things got fuzzy and though I didn’t pass out, I wasn’t exactly aware of when he came and pulled out of my ass. Until he pulled me off the log, I didn’t know what was going on anymore. I felt, no smelled his cock before he shoved it in my mouth, but I sucked it anyway, despite how vile it was. My mouth was full of copper and shit and cum, and I bucked and screamed when I felt something cold, metal, and dangerous shoved inside my cunt. He pulled my head up and made me watch him rape me with his tire iron, fucking it deep in me. I was in agony even as I came again and he laughed, ramming it so deep it fully entered me, tearing my insides apart. And despite being destroyed sexually I came again. He pulled the iron out of me, coated in my blood and kicked me so hard in my side I heard a crack. I just laid there as he looked down at me and I knew this was it. I was gonna die.

“MMMghnnnnn...” was all I could say, my body half in shock as he leered at me.

“Thanks for being such a stupid rapebait piece of shit Samantha, if you were older I might have risked keeping you.”

With that he grabbed my hair again, and dragged me over to the creek bed. It was mostly dried up, but there were puddles here and there. He grabbed my head and shoved it in a puddle, holding it down. It’s strange really. You might think you’re prepared to die, but when the moment comes, even if you are prepared mentally, your body will rebel. I kicked and struggled with all my might as my face was shoved into the watery mud. My body tensed as I flailed about, held down by my rapist as he tried to drown me in less than two inches of water. I was going to die in a fucking puddle. That’s what blew my mind the most. Not that I had been raped and beaten, used like a living fleshlight. No. It was that I was drowning in a motherfucking mud puddle. How the fuck did I get here to die like this? I’d like to say I fought and gave a massive struggle but the truth was, he’d already half beaten me to death. Instead, as I inhaled muddy water, I choked, and was drowned in two inches of water.

Or I should have been anyway. I know I blacked out again. When I woke, it was cold and it was night. I was on my side, still in the puddle, face caked with mud. I had rolled just enough, apparently after my “death” to breathe. I wheezed, and after lying there in agony slowly crawled. I didn’t know where I was going, if I was going in the right direction towards the road. I couldn’t tell you why I just didn’t lie there and give up. I had been willing to accept him killing me. I just kept crawling, barely noticing the scratches and rocks. By the time I made it to the road, the moon had crossed half the sky. I pulled myself up on the road, rolled onto my back and blacked out.

The next thing I remember, I was in the hospital. I had been there for four days before I woke again. Apparently a camper heading back to his campground had nearly ran me over on the road and found me. I had been rushed to the hospital and then I was put in a helicopter to go to a major hospital in a city a few hours away. I had 2 broken ribs, a broken cheekbone, broken nose, a severe concussion, dozens of scraps, a torn rectum, and the rape by the tire iron had torn through my cervix. It was a miracle I was even alive. The next couple months at the hospital and rehab drug by. My mom and dad cried when I was told I could never have children. The police came by several times, asking questions. I told them I couldn’t remember anything. It was assumed I’d been grabbed and I’d lost my memories due to trauma and head injury. All told, it was almost 4 months before I returned to school.

The first few weeks were weird, people were afraid to talk to me, for fear of mentioning something that would cause me to break. I went to therapy three times a week. But I slid right back in life and my friends, family, and doctors were all amazed at all the progress I had made. They bragged about how strong I was and how I was a symbol for women everywhere.

It was all a lie. I just wore my mask so well those idiots couldn’t see anything but what they wanted. I was empty. More empty than I had ever been before the rape. Not long after returning home and to school, once my parents stopped hovering over me, my late night activities resumed. At first it was just cybering, but soon I started skyping and snapchatting with people. I didn’t ever see any videos of me, despite looking. I never got a message from the man who had raped me. He had to know I had lived. At first, I’d masturbate thinking about him returning, but after a month back at home, I gave up on it. He was probably long gone. Some other bitches problem.

Me? I looked at myself in front of the mirror, nude. My face was fully healed except my nose had a slight tilt to the right that it didn’t have. Mom had wanted me to get a nose job, but I wanted the reminder. The rest of me was healed as well, at least on the outside. The only scar that was easily visible was the burn from the cigarette on my ass. My womb was still fucked, nothing could help the damage the iron had done to it. I smiled through my mask and pulled on the top I had bought a couple weeks ago. It was a cut tee, and barely covered my tits. I then pulled on the microskirt I had bought with it. It barely covered my ass and as soon as I had saw it at the store, I had to buy it. I put on the heels to complete the ensemble. I applied my makeup and smiled. I was going to be raped again tonight. Time to take off the mask and let someone see the real me once again.
Life is love, love is life

Psiberzerker
  • Guest
Re: The Real Me
« Reply #1 on: September 28, 2017, 06:43:58 AM »
This one's longer, and I like the character development.  Very immersive.

gscmar64
  • Guest
Re: The Real Me
« Reply #2 on: September 30, 2017, 02:33:10 PM »
Damn Sky that one had my boy scout tendencies coming through until i read  "I just wore my mask so well those idiots couldn’t see anything but what they wanted." After that i wanted to go look her up for a good time!