Hey all, I'd like to nail down how to begin working with my 2-year-old female rescue (Aussie/Pyr mix) on her specific type of reactivity. Over the past two months we've learned that she's reactive to dogs - on leash she always wants to approach with a loose waggy-tail. We're working on impulse control and "Go Meet" as her allowance to meet another dog.
That said, she's calmly met about 40-50 dogs, butt and crotch sniffs, hanging out in the same space together. However we've learned that she becomes negatively reactive when holding prolonged nose-to-nose interactions. Her body freezes, her tail goes straight up, and then she will snap at the other dog.
She has done this even with dogs she's happily met and walked/played with. She's also done this through our fence with our neighbors to a dog she quite likes. In nearly every instance, she and the other dog have gone back to normal greetings afterward with waggly tails. It's almost like a warning from her that she doesn't like it.
With rescue dogs you don't really know what their history is, and at 2-years old she may be far past teaching socialization manners. Besides, clearly this is a boundary for her. But I'd like to understand what our options are here for moving forward. Ideally she'd greet other dogs without any barking or biting reactivity. I can accept that just won't be possible. But does that mean she can't be allowed to ever meet other dogs? It's something she seems to love to do, unless they do this one thing. I just don't know how to address it, or if I should even try. Is a professional trainer "worth" seeking out? Or should I accept that she just can never be trusted to be a social dog?

Sumerian - niggida - (rod) - Kurdish - naqīza -(rod)
Sumerian - dellu - Kurdish - telā - English - mast -
Sumerian - ninda - (bread) - Kurdish - nan (Khorasani Kurds still refer to bread as (“ninda”) -
Sumerian - a dan - Kurdish - au dan - English - Irrigate -
Sumerian - anzah (glass) Kurdish - anaza (A person whose heart breaks easily)
Sumerian - šerda (crime) - Kurdish - jarda (criminal) -
Sumerian - agarka - Kurdish - āgārga - English - temple -
Sumerian - dal - Kurdish - dāla - English - protection/sheltering -
Sumerian - al .. aka - Kurdish - hal .. aka/hal.. akane - English - to work at hoeing -
Sumerian - amarga - Kurdish - gueraka/guamerga - English - calf -
Sumerian - ama - Kurdish - ama - English - mother -
Sumerian - papal - Kurdish - pāpil - English - bud -
Sumerian - daban - Kurdish - dab - English - harness -
Sumerian - dana - Kurdish - dana - English - unit -
Sumerian - nu ba/nu bi - Kurdish - na ba/nā be - English - negation -
Sumerian - sag sag - Kurdish - šaqa šaq - English - tremble -
Sumerian - šenu - Kurdish - šīnik - English - type of tree -
Sumerian - ere - Kurdish - here - English - go -
Sumerian - gur - Kurdish - gaura - English - big/thick -
Sumerian - gure (that side) - Kurdish - gore (In front) -
Sumerian - gu - Kurdish - gue - English - bank/edge -
Sumerian - arazu - (supplication) - Kurdish - ārazu - (wish/desire) -
Sumerian - arre - Kurdish - are - English - jest -
Sumerian - arar - Kurdish - hārar - English - miller -
Sumerian - arakar - Kurdish - hokāhārīkārī - English - factor -
Sumerian - ala - Kurdish - ala - English - type of demon -
Sumerian - abal - Kurdish - hāubāl - English - substitute -
Sumerian - urbad - Kurdish - haurabān - English - rooftop -
Sumerian - úrgu - Kurdish - urg - English - rage -
Sumerian - kur - Kurdish - kur - English - mountain -
Sumerian - idu - (cultic room) - Kurdish - dīu - English - (room) -
Sumerian - urbid - (cub) - Kurdish - urd - (small/child) -
Sumerian - zala - (smashed) - Kurdish - zala - (slap) -
Sumerian - uru - Kurdish - uāawar - English - city/town/village
Sumerian - zal - (noble) Kurdish - zal - (dominant/strong/champion)
Sumerian - imma - (physiognomy) Kurdish - hemā - (sign)
Sumerian - immal - Kurdish - mal - English - goods/property -
Sumerian - kul - Kurdish - kul - English - bowl -
Sumerian - lah - Kurdish - leīa - English - to beat -
Sumerian - gur - Kurdish - gur - English - loop/circle/round -
Sumerian - guru - Kurdish - girīa - English - to grind -
Sumerian - hab - Kurdish - hau/hau kirdin - English - malodorous -
Sumerian - hara - Kurdish - hahara - English - ruffian -
Sumerian - hegal Kurdish - gale English - plenty
Sumerian - ge - Kurdish - ga - English - ox -
Sumerian - genna - Kurdish - guna - English - to be small -
Sumerian - geštin - Kurdish - gaīštin - English - understanding -
Sumerian - (Huur) - scratch - Kurdish - (Xuur) - scratch -
Sumerian - (niñir) - herlad/bailiff Kurdish - (nuenar) - herlad/bailiff
Sumerian - ñissu - (shade) Kurdish - nise - (shade)
Sumerian - lib - (it means sheep in Sumerian) Kurdish - laba - (it means sheep's fat in Kurdish)
Sumerian - gubar - (back of the neck) Kurdish - gepara - (back of the neck)
Sumerian - šu ur - (erase) Kurdish - sisiren - (erase)
Sumerian - aka - (to do) Kurdish - aka - (to do)
Sumerian - ubur - (female breast) Kurdish - uar - (female breast)
Sumerian - ahan - (vomit) Kurdish - ahen/henanaua - (vomit)
Sumerian - du mu - Kurdish - domon - English - Child/Kid -
Sumerian - kuš - Kurdish - kāž - English - skin -
Sumerian - ezen - Kurdish - yezen - English - festivali, fesat -
Sumerian - ana - Kurdish - auna/anina - English - as much as -
Sumerian - mir - Kurdish - mar - English - snake/worm -
Sumerian - are - Kurdish - haharin - English - to grind -
Sumerian - bir - Kurdish - bibirin - English - to shred -
Sumerian - bur - Kurdish - babardan - English - to release -
Sumerian - gal - Kurdish - Kal/Kall - English - big/great -
Sumerian - duru - Kurdish - tar - English - wet -
Sumerian - men - Kurdish - min - English - me -
Sumerian - silan - Kurdish - şêlan - English - to knead -
Sumerian - nu-zu - Kurdish - na-zan/za - English - ignorant -
Sumerian - a - Kurdish - au - English - water -
Sumerian - bur - Kurdish - bar - English - crotch -
Sumerian - du - Kurdish - du - English - speak -
Sumerian - dur - Kurdish - tir - English - fart -
Sumerian - gal - Kurdish - gal - English - Genital organs -
Sumerian - geli - Kurdish - galu/garu - English - throat -
Sumerian - guz/ki-zi - Kurdish - gīs/giž/kazı - English - hair -
Sumerian - kul - Kurdish - qol - English - handle/arm -
Sumerian - meli - Kurdish - mil - English - neck -
Sumerian - nu - Kurdish - nu/nustin - English - sleep -
Sumerian - gamur - Kurdish - qamūr - English - spine/hunchback -
Sumerian - pah - Kurdish - pah/pa/pe - English - feet/legs -
Sumerian - sag- Kurdish - salk - English - head -
Sumerian - sañ - Kurdish - sān - English - Head -
Sumerian - tab - Kurdish - ta/tab - English - fever -
Sumerian - sir - Kurdish - sir - English - shaking/weak/numb -
Sumerian - šul - Kurdish - šil/šila - English - a skin disease -
Sumerian - mi - Kurdish - me - English - female -
Sumerian - giri - Kurdish - girī - English - cry/crying -
Sumerian - gula - Kurdish - guli - English - a disease -
Sumerian - suhur - Kurdish - ser - English - head -
Sumerian - gara - Kurdish - kara - English - thick milk, cream -
Sumerian - gu - Kurdish - ko/ge - English - entirely/total -
Sumerian - ibsi - Kurdish - bas - English - enough (it's enough) -
Sumerian - gu/gud - Kurdish - ga - English - ox -
Sumerian - nu - Kurdish - na - English - no -
Sumerian - angam - Kurdish - anjam - English - consequently -
Sumerian - anga - Kurdish - anjā/aujā - English - moreover -
Sumerian - anna - Kurdish - uāia - English - indeed -
Sumerian - aše - Kurdish - Īse/esā/estā - English - now -
Sumerian - balak - (spindle) Kurdish - baloka - (stick)
Sumerian - buru - Kurdish - bar - English - fruit -
Sumerian - ñar - Kurdish - nanarden - English - send -
Sumerian - gukur Kurdish - gukur English - strip/to trim away/to cut/to be parted

As If It Were Kismet: Prologue
Matt tore through the brush, blind in the dark. He didn’t care where he was going. He only knew he needed to be elsewhere. Far from here.
Behind him a creature howled that shocked his mind. It’s form was cruel and dangerous, though female. Nothing like the young woman she had once been. Nothing but a girl, a small and slight female.
It’s guttural growls and howls only grew closer as Matt tried to pick between seeing where he was going and getting away. The few times he looked he caught sight of the creature behind him. Hopping through the air with a speed that told him he was being toyed with. As if he were a mouse being played with by a cat.
But the reflex in him to run kept him going. His adrenaline going as hard as it could. The tightness and burning in his core tensing and locking up as his legs felt like there were being burned from within while taking on more of a heaviness.
His lungs were starting to betray him as he tried to gulp big breaths of air but only rapid and shallow breaths were all that he could manage. His brain was starting to burn….and then he was falling.
Falling down the side of a hill he saw the creature dart in a spring towards him, imperceivably fast almost. Catching him in mid air it seemed.
Managing to wrap its body around him and cushion his impact against the ground as they rolled. His mind barely took in what was happening during the roll. Only starting to understand what was happening once they were still.
The creature's triple D-cup breasts were unmistakably pressed hard against his back as he laid facing up at the night sky.
For a few seconds the world stilled and the needle light pain hitting the center of his brain took over for the cooking heat his brain had felt. His whole body felt heavy and reluctant to move.
Even if he could have really moved, a dull ache came over his limbs making them feel stilled and trapped as if by immeasurable amounts of sand that had engulfed him.
Slowly the arms holding him started to move. Moving so the creature's hands could start exploring him. Causing Matt to unstoppably let out a pathetic moan that made him go cold inside as hands lifted up his shirt and started to touch his exposed stomach and then his chest.
He would have whimpered so pathetically had he not still been in the depths of terror.
As its hands felt and groped his pecs he tried to situp as if to get away. For his efforts, his reward was a hand around his throat and a collection snarls and growls against his ear. A beastly, guttural voice spat words at him while somehow holding a feminine tone.
“Don’t move….I don’t know if I can calm down…”
Her words were not helped by her moans in his ear and the subsequent kissing of his ear. The flesh of his ear going between her lips as she moaned and seemed to pant. Releasing it and licking the side of his face with a moist warmth. He could feel its spittle, viscous and coating his flesh where the tongue touched. He could smell something in his saliva. Something that subtly entranced him.
Matt went stock still with fear and the confusion of mixed arousal. He barely perceived her right hand traveling lower on his body. A surprised moan and shudder echoed in the night from Matt’s lips as she took ahold of him. Her hand above his pants but still….stimulating him.
A light squeezing and almost probing of her digits kept him aroused and confused within her grasp. Resigning himself to the strange fate, Matt looked up at the stars as his mind tried not to shatter under the strange maelstrom of events and sensation that had started mere minutes ago.
His mind was only more confused as a slight figure, feminine in build, how it seemed to thunk the ground audibly as she landed on her feet out nowhere. Her knees barely bending under the pressure of the landing. Yet dirt was kicked up anyways and some of it onto Matt. Feeling it pepper his shirt and pants as it fell.
The figure, lit only faintly by moonlight, roared some dark tone Matt could only perceive as a demon as her eyes went bright with a crimson light. A light in the darkness that should not have been. “Let him go you bitch.” Was its words following the roar. Spittle escaping its mouth with faint droplets hit Matt's face.
The creature holding him by his throat and crotch seemed to tighten the grasp of both hands as it roared back. “HE IS MINE!”
The figure paused with a moment's hesitation. He was also her quarry. She had felt his fear without him knowing. His confused arousal. His fear. His terror.
And now he laid at the center of a struggle between two monsters. Unsure of who he wanted to win.
As If It Was Kismet Ch. 1
Matthew Berkshire hadn’t seen his mom in two years. Not that he had seen her much over the last six years.
A messy divorce between messy people and mom’s chaotic want for a life in Alaska had been one of the most…upsetting times in life. Setting him up for so much of what had defined his life thus far but then that had really started two years before he ever turned.
His ear buds were basic and simple. A part of cheap five pack, common for his life as he was known to lose little things. Small things. They had a mix of metal and hard rock playing in them. Some classics, some alternative. Whatever made him feel something, anything. Even if it was hate. Anger. Rage. It was better than feeling numb. Not belonging.
The escalator down to his lone bag to go with his lone carry on showed his mom waiting for him. His had a type, that’s for damn sure. Not that it helped him in the genetics department as he was stuck at 5’9” to go along with his mother’s five foot even as his dad stood six foot. Forever leaving him to feel small, to pale, under his dad’s shadow. Did he ever stand a chance?
The guy next to her with the unkempt former seventies porn stache was “Dave.” He’d met him twice when his mother came and visited him in Florida. To his credit the guy didn’t look annoyed. Kind of concerned kind of which made Matthew want to break his frozen look but he was well practiced. Having removed any note of sadness from his face through much…tribulation.
His mother’s look on her face betrayed a hint of worry as the bruises on his face lightly showed up close. Saying his name was his like a distant echo that belonged to someone else.
Dave cut in and pulled out his right headphone. “What the hell bud, they knock you hard enough to hurt hearing? Your mom’s asking how you are doing.”
Matthew pulled out the other bud and grunted an empty “sorry.”
“You still have bruises after two week? What did they do to you?” His mom’s voice was full of worry. Something he hadn’t heard in….too long. Too long to make him feel anything. To ever make him believe there was any sincerity to her words. To not think her voice and mannerisms were an act. An act by someone who…wasn’t really there.
“It’s only fair. I took a nose. Fractured a couple orbital bones. Left one with having to get his jaw wired shut. And one will never walk right again for what I did to his knee cap.” Matthew said it all with a bored and disinterested tone. Perhaps well rehearsed.
“My man, handing out ass kickings, not bothering to take names.” Dave was quick to be the typical man’s man about it. Matthew wasn’t quite done yet. Lifting up his shirt to expose the right side near his kidney. Revealing a nasty scar from a six inch blade. “Luckily they gave me this first so they could rule it all in self-defense. The fuck didn’t get it in more than inch before I ruined his knee cap and then I took the nose of one of the fucks holding me.” Now he chose to smile keeping the well practiced dead look in his eyes.
No retorts. No questions. Just horrified looks on their faces. As he liked. As he preferred. They could hate him. They could be disgusted by him. But by God they would fear him.
“Well the doc did a good job sewing you up.” Dave commented uncomfortably. “Dissolving sutures. Ain’t they grand.” He smiled again and let it abruptly fall off his face and started walking to the carousel for the baggage claim.
Waiting and making small talk with Dave as his mother stood in silence. He was not the little boy she abandoned. The little boy she left with an angry man. While never hitting him. Left him in constant fear till he turned twelve and just didn’t care anymore. Something snapped. Broke. And he didn’t care if he died. Didn’t care if he stole. Didn’t even care if he killed. He just knew not to get caught. Something left over from his grandfather’s wisdom which came to make more and more sense with each passing year of life since that thing inside him broke.
Finally his bag came around and Dave went to try first to grab it but Dave practically leapt ahead of him. “Is that your grandfather’s rucksack bag?” his mother asked in a perplexed voice.
“Figured it’s been around since Viet Nam. So it’d serve me better than any of the worthless stuff they called luggage.” Dave commented after Matthew’s words. “Well hell yeah I still got mine from Desert Storm. You know the first one.” Dave laughed and Matthew eyed him oddly. Be it in the south or whether it was Alaska, country boys are country boys he guessed.
The car ride to the two people’s house, as Matthew thought of them. Was uneventful and full of vistas he imagined metropolitan types wetting themselves over. At most they meant isolation to him. Furtherness from the world as there were no mountains in Florida. And what mountains he had last seen in another state had been when he was eight. Another life, to Matthew it felt like. A life alien to him.
As If It Was Kismet Ch 2
Dave and his mom’s place was some two story type tucked into a tree line far up an elevated point. It was by no means the highest point in the mountain but it certainly felt up there.
Rocks were where the driveway should have been Matthew thought. Grabbing his backpack and rucksack from Dave’s jeep was no hard thing for him. Matthew was in formidable shape for someone his age, maybe even five years older. He had gotten a mix of fairly big shoulders and arms along with the chest to go for it when compared to most kids his age. A side effect of working out at least twice a day. First thing in the morning, some time in the evening, and the school’s gym when had had a good semester in school before he had to leave Florida.
Dave tried to come up and help him but Matthew walked past him towards the house. His mom was not sure what to make of his demeanor. Matthew was not the sweet kind boy he had once been. But she had been gone from his life essentially for a long time.
Ushering him into the house she cracked some joke he did not hear. He was too busy looking about and seeing a mix of old outdated decorating mixed with the strange and odd flair of his mother. Color contrasting against drab and dated. Like brightly painting over an old home that was falling apart he thought.
“Your room is this way Mattie.” His mom brightly intoned.
Without expressing any interest he followed his mother. Still faced and nonplussed. Just going along with the current. Pushed and pulled with its roll like a piece of driftwood.
The room was simple. A single small bed. A set of rubber weights with a curl bar and barbells. “Your dad said you were into weight lifting so we got you a bunch of stuff. Dave says it looks like his department’s gym almost. The woman’s smile felt very alien to him.
“Thank you. I appreciate it. I’ve got most of my stuff from home.” Matthew starting unpacking his rucksack and pulled out cables of repetitive and mixed colors. A single plastic barbell handle. The ruck sack could be filled with water bottles for added weight during pushups he figured. Remembering a Michael Keaton movie he watched with his dad post-Batman movies where he played a convicted killer using plastic bags filled with water for weights.
Matthew caught movement outside his lone fairly large window that could let him step out onto the roof of the house given its layout.
He saw a number of people running together through what he guessed was the backyard of the property, not that it had any fences to mark boundaries
They wore clothes that looked similar yet different from each other at the same time.”Oh those are the Johnston’s. Really nice bunch of people. Been on the mountain for a long time Dave tells me.”
Matthew looked at the group of people running and noticed the lack of resemblance. “They are related?” Matthew quizzically asked. Seeing a black and possibly a hispanic person amongst the bland looking white people.
“Oh well they are all adopted but for one or two of them…besides the parents of course. The family has a long tradition of taking in orphans they say. Real nice of them to do that don’t you think.”
Matthew looked at his mother and the hosier accent made no sense to him as he arched his left eye brow. Her and his dad were both from Florida. Born and raised. Sure her parents were from New York city but…
Matthew shook his lightly without turning to look at his mother as his vision was grabbed by one of the runners in particular. A girl of moderate height. Soft brunette. A plain beauty he figured with a slim build….and lack of remarkable breasts and rear to make any note of but….girls in general were his type at his age.
She was pretty enough. He couldn’t deny that but he found himself transfixed by her visage.
But the way she turned and looked at him, especially at that distance felt very disconcerting to him. Even if she was smiling like…she was a taste of a bright shiny day. Somehow.
Matthew’s mom noticed the exchange and smiled to herself with closed lips. “Oh that’s Vicky. She’s your age I think. Very sweet girl, who does the charity functions. You know bake sales, blood drives, car washes and the like. I think you should get to know her. Might be good for you.”
A truck horn sounded a couple of beeps in rather succession. “Oh that must be Mack, he said he might come by later this evening but he seems early.”
Matthew’s mother turned and left his room. Leaving Matthew to exchange a few looks with the alluring Vicky as she turned her head away from him to talk to the others in her group and look back at him.
Still Matthew’s left eyebrow was arched. In a way that reminded him of Spock from Star Trek that he and his grandpa used to watch on some streaming service or another.
As he heard ambient chatter elsewhere outside the house he figured to check it out as the alluring sight of Vicky would be around he figured. It was dull to stare at artwork. He was a boy who preferred jet skis and the like. Something he could ride and enjoy immensely. Even if at times it got him stabbed.
As If It Was Kismet Ch 3
Matthew sauntered out of the house and down the rockway that stood in for a driveway.
A few new people had come over from what he could first surmise of the situation. As he got closer it was obvious they were indigenous people. A couple of grown men…and a girl?
She was mousey. Maybe five foot. Hiding behind glasses and a big camo jacket that was far too big for her. It looked made for a grown man and the backwards trucker hat on her head kept her long black a beautiful mess of sorts.
She was cute in a way. A little androgynous but she had a cute energy to her. She reminded him of the more tomboyish Puerto Rican girls he had gotten into back in Florida. Given the deer corpses in the back of the truck….probably more dangerous to play with given the men in her family.
Small chatter passed between the adults when the girl noticed but turned away, trying to hide the tiny hint of a smile.
“Oh Mattie, this is Mack. He works with Dave at the sheriff’s department and John, he’s with fish and wildlife.” Matthew nodded at his mom’s words with some blankness as he looked at the deer the in the back of the pickup truck.
“Gale tells us you hunted with your dad some in Florida and Georgia.” Mack offered with a light hearted laugh camouflaged by his big simple and cheery but husky way he spoke.
Looking in the back of the truck he spoke. “We used lever action thirty-thirties and Mosin Nagants in seven-six-two-fifty-four-rimmed.” Mack and John whistled in an exaggerated fashion. Leaving Matthew to wonder if they were mocking him.
Mack spoke. “Well we just used thirty-odd-six in a custom gussied Garand.” That caught Matthew’s attention. “You have a Garand…” Matthew finally demonstrated interest in anything. “My dad has an SVT-40 and a Hakim 8mm but he always wanted a Garand but was too cheap to buy one.”
Gale, his mother, chimed in loudly. “Oh his Dad loved his guns but was such an odd duck about how he bought or why he bought them. Never made sense to me how he wasn’t a collector but he didn’t get the latest and greatest.” Gale laughed uncomfortably. At least it seemed that way to Matthew.
Matthew pointed to the girl with an underhanded pointing hand. “And who is this? A cute little mute mouse or does she have a name?” Dave and the other men laughed.
Mack again spoke. “Well you people call her Rebecca, she’s my adopted daughter.” Matthew was taken aback by what he heard. “You people?”
Rebecca kindly spoke with a soft but almost melodic voice as she struggled to maintain eye contact. “White people or rather not members of our tribe. It’s just easier to appease the colonizer kind of thing. Borrowed from when the Jesuit missionaries chased us up here.”
Mack stepped in. “It’s just easier to have white people names than have them try to say our tribal names. And we don’t want them shortening or Anglicising our names kind of thing.” Rebecca stepped back into the conversation cutting off her adopted father. “It’s an insult to our history basically.”
Matthew cocked his head sideways raising his eyebrows shortly before letting them drop. “Well as soon as I’m eighteen I’m out of here and back to Florida so I’m a sort of involuntary colonizer of sorts. So I won’t be taking any of your land from you. The Seminoles on the other hand are still shit out of luck.”
Rebecca’s smile caused Matthew to reflexively smile. Mack made the moment more awkward. “See Becca, I told you someone off the reservation would like you some. You just have to be creative.” Mack laughed in a chiding manner…Matthew presumed. He sensed that he was the butt of some kind of cultural joke. Like marrying a white guy was some sort of insult or mark of shame. That kind of thing.
Rebecca turning away from him was not something he had been expecting. Her then getting in the truck in a huff left the group in a silence for a moment.
Dave spoke to break the awkward silence. “Well just bring the truck to work on Monday and leave it for me to grab up.” Mack acknowledged Dave and they started to get off as Rebecca looked at Matthew for another instance. Matthew couldn’t look away for some reason as the two seemed to lock eyes for an instance.
Till Vicky and family seemed to come jogging down the road. While Matthew’s eyes diverted from Rebecca’s. Hers did not till she realized he was looking elsewhere. And her vision found Vicky and what had been a hint of smile on her face turned glum and disappointed.
Matthew did not look away from the vision of Vicky but instead of a starry eyed fool looking longingly. It was a baffled look. Well baffled for him, with his eyes drawn narrow and night with a focus.
There was something about her…he couldn’t quite put a name too. The way she appeared to him. One second brunette. The next second blonde or blonde like. As if the color appeared in her air and disappeared in fractions of seconds. Much the same way her body almost seemed to…shift…very subtly…smoothly. A nicer bum. Larger breasts. And then back to a simple and plain form. Feminine no doubt. Attractive. But not so…remarkable.
As If It Was Kismet Ch 4
The next two days passed without incident. Nothing of any real substance or challenge to note.
Matthew got settled somewhat and started working out almost immediately. Exploring around the woods but Dave told him not to go far. Especially without a hunting rifle. Dave had left a simple semi-auto Winchester out for him. His bear gun as Dave referred to it with its four round magazine. But Matt figured till he got some practice with the rifle to leave it alone. He made a hiking stick like his grandpa taught him and treated it over a low fire. He would take some electrical tape for the end his hand would grip around. Plenty enough to ward off anything smaller than a bear he figured.
The ride to school was a pain in the neck but simple enough. Dave would let him use a clunker pickup truck he had laying around. It wasn’t pretty but it would get him to and from. Even if it was from the eighties and still backfired on occasion. But for now Dave and his mom took him on their way to the sheriff’s department.
It wasn’t much of a school. It wanted to be modern but its fifties original construction was very obvious. It serviced the pipeline families and familys’ of fisherman who worked the seasons in between their time at the pipeline.
Matt was to report to the principal for some reason Dave and his mom wouldn’t share. Which annoyed him but he figured it was to read him the law of land. Small towns with their big views of the outside world and like.
Dressed in jeans, a grey sweatshirt under a light jacket with steel toed boots set him more apart then he expected. His buzzed head didn’t help matters. Already he was feeling like a stranger in a strange land but he was quite strange after all. And he liked it that way. Normal people were so pathetically disappointing to him.
A secretary or assistant or some such led him to the principal’s office. Where it reeked of real wood that was old and fabric and upholstery that needed to be updated for the last twenty years, Matt figured.
“This is Matthew Berkshire, Principal Andrews.” The man was turned with his back to the door and he was quick to wave her off as he turned her around.
He was an older man. Fat and large. Tall with a body built like he had once been fit and a demeanour of annoyed and irate already as he fixed Matt with a scowl and look of disgust. Another worthless government whore. Matt thought to himself. His father and his grandfather had bestowed unto him a natural disrespect for government workers and the figures that wore unjustified authority as a shield but pretended the weight of the state was not at their back ready to crush all who resisted. Little figures of valor pretending to be mighty and alone but acting with the tyranny of the state and all the backing.
“Mr. Berkshire, please sit down.” His tone wasn’t unusually hostile, just gruff. As if he had better things to do.
Matt complied and took a seat in the chair while maintaining a friendly facade. Not everyone was an enemy. And not everyone needed to be an enemy. Even if anybody could be any enemy. There was no reason to make enemies you didn’t have to. Another of his grandfather’s bastardised wisdoms.
“Well I looked over you file and you have quite the history Mr. Berkshire.” Matt resisted qiuping back a joke. Instead he waited for Principal Andrews to continue as he remained nonplussed and looking as if he felt no need to respond. A simple head tilt with dead eyes looking back at the principle as if he was not even there would suffice.
Matt’s reaction or lack of a reaction rather made Principal Andrews only narrow his eyes with examination. He was not used to a kid not responding to him. Especially with his gruff and hard act going on.
“Well by all accounts you moved here after some problems at your last school. A fight broke out and you did some real harm to your fellow students it appears.” Of course, he would take the side of the perpetrators. School administrators always did. Especially when they weren’t white. Just a fact of the times. Cowardice and pathetic mediocrity was the way they leaned, like good government workers sucking the dick of Big Daddy government. Worthless whores.
Matt chose to reply. “Oh you mean the criminals that stabbed me. Got arrested at the hospital and then pled to felonies. Yeah Florida, with the American counties are good like that.” Principal Andrews went real still. No shame. No fear. No penitence. He didn’t like that.
“Well be it as it may Mr. Berkshire we don’t tolerate that kind of behaviour here…” Matt cut him off responding with a deadpan tone. “You mean self-defense meant to save one’s own life while the cowardly and pathetic school workers look on with zero interest but to keep their money rolling in and will allow known gang members with records of violent acts and crimes that should have them expelled many times over, where in certain Democrat counties such cowardice and idiocy empowered a couple school shooters?”
Principal Andrews looked at the Matt with a note of disgust. “Look here Mr. Berkshire, your beliefs matter not one bit here. This isn’t Florida. We don’t like our way of life being disrupted by outside agitators who have problems with authority.”
Matt did his best not to roll his eyes and let the older fat man drone own as he dead-stared him. Lifeless and without emotion.
The man came to a finish and Matt spoke up without having listened to him or paid him any attention. “Great now that’s taken care of. Can I please get to class and finish my sentence of two years at your wonderful school?”
Principal Andrews huffed and snorted before calling in Vicky. Vicky stood in the corner after entering with a quiet and seamless presence. Matt felt disturbed and tried not betray his feelings as the young Vicky was perceived and not perceived to be moving.
Principal Andrews made the introductions and Matt nodded back. She was to be his chaperone for the day. They had the same classes and she was to show him the ropes so to speak. The ins and outs of the school. The locations of their classes.
He recognized her. It was hard not to. The way her appearance seemed to shift fluidly almost. The petite and skinny brunette ever so lightly had a big bust and blonde hair with curves added when she seemed to shift before his eyes. Like watching a film but each frame had a different person.
Matt didn’t say anything about it. Even if he did he would only be acknowledging his crazed state, if he had one. If.
Unlike an obedient puppy dog he got up in a slow and awkward fashion and followed behind her as his oddly disproportionate frame allowed. Causing her a note of concern for some reason. As if she was seeing something she shouldn’t have been….Or he was just weird. And Matt could admit to himself he was just weird. Part of his charm, he would jest about it at times. Not that he had many people to jest to now.
As If It Were Kismet Ch. 5
Following Vicky into the hall off to their first class was simple. She exchanged small talk and he slightly smiled as if to obviously suggest he was just being polite.
Inside his head, Matt was trying to figure out if he was having a psychotic break. The way Vicky looked kept changing and he looked at the other people around him and they stayed the same.
He was searching his mind as they were walking. And thus he wasn’t paying attention to where he was looking and so fell to his face forward over his feet seemingly out of nowhere.
A series of laughs erupted as it sunk in that he was obviously tripped. Like in prison this was a challenge to his superiority. If he let this pass he would be mocked and sneered at by this same group of boys. He wouldn’t walk to them like he was going to do nothing like a little bitch.
In a rage he turned and punched the stomach of the first face he saw. Some typical blonde haired wannabe jock. He knew from experience not to aim for the ribs. Instead he needed to aim for where he thought the belly button was.
Yells and screams blindly echoed around him as his after the punch he followed up his elbow of the opposite arm slamming into the face of the jock. Harder than a fist, the elbow struck the jock’s jaw and seemingly dropped him against a locker. Just in time to catch an errant and soft punch to the nose that sure enough hurt but did little to slow him down as his dad had taught him to fight through the pain. Blood and scars happened. They were a natural consequence of life to a man.
Taking the punch and falling further into his red state Matt headbutted the punch thrower before another guy arm bared his throat from behind. Which he managed to get his grip on the arm over a letterman jacked and jerk the unprepared boy to the side with him still latched on.
A few feet away from the lockers Matt knew his only chance was to jump and push off the lockers and knock the boy to the ground and so he did. He heard a thunk of the boy’s skull bouncing off the ground and he turned to pull out of the grapple.
The beatings he had taken from his father, the grapples, being choked unconscious. Had prepared him for fighting little bitches who didn’t know what a fight was. It wasn’t gay porn with rabbit punch fists flying.
Blood was running down his face and the pain started to hit him as the threats had been eliminated. Only then did he remember to breathe. Taking breathes as Vicky came up to him with tissues and took a hold of his nose.
“Owww owww owww what the fuck my nose could be broken.” He said to Vicky as she pulled his head up and back.
“It’s ok Carl. It’s done.” Matt tried to look to see who Vicky was talking to. It was a boy taller than his 5’9” by more than a small margin. The boy eyed him bored and annoyed before speaking. “What happened here?” An unoriginal line but one Matt couldn’t be a smart aleck about. “Well you see there was an outbreak of tripping and we all tripped over my dick. It happens.” Matt was about to laugh when Vicky seemed to pull up while still gripping his nose causing Matt no small amount of pain which he audibly evidenced.
Vicky spoke in a tone he wasn’t expecting. As if she was accustomed to issuing orders. “Keep Iris away from the hall till we sanitize the site. We have blood from at least three people contaminating the site. And have Jake bring me a spare jacket and shirt for this moron.”
Carl seemed to acknowledge her orders and seemed to blink away. Maybe the punch hit harder than he expected. He had no time to wonder as Vick took her hand away from his and pushed him against the lockers. With ease he had not been expecting from her form and stature.
Before he could respond Vicky licked his blood covered chin and then his lips and spoke to him. “Focus on me you little blood bag.” Her tone had an annoyed yet feminine sneer.
“Look into my eyes. Look at me. You belong to me. You are just another food source in a collection of food sources.” Her eyes were a beautiful hazel Matt thought. Almost green. Pretty like jewels in some old treasure collections. The eyes he could get lost in before kissing her. Finally Vicky was just a slight and petite brunette and he thought she was beautiful.
She would make a hell of a girlfriend. Some cute thing he could see laying on the beach in Florida on their sides laughing and smiling before trading light kisses while hands wandered innocently. Before his mind could drift further he felt her lips on his. It took him a second to mentally grasp the kiss but his arms were around her back as her hands were at his sides. His eyes reflexively closed as he saw hers close.
It was ineffable to Matt. Beyond words, what was happening. The kiss, the moments beforehand. The way his brain tickled with electricity and gentle warmth. He had never had a kiss like this and he had traded more than a few kisses with at least a few girls.
The kiss was like a warm bath with his consciousness slipping beneath the surface. Their lips only parted to try new angles and approaches as Matt struggled to take in breath. It was a moment he could have stayed trapped in for….he didn’t know. But a curt throat clearing by another girl pulled them out of the moment.
The girl was taller than Vicky. Blonde. With slight curves. Vicky addressed her bewildered and gobsmacked, and perhaps a bit embarrassed. “Tina?”

Slutty Sister Has Her Brother Locked For Life (non-con, forced chastity, bondage, punishment)
Part 1
The keyholder nurse gave me instructions and explained everything after it was all over. My family had told me that I was a sex pervert and I was "being dealt with". I knew I was in trouble, but I was a young man, only 18 and I didn't understand what was going on. No one had told me anything after the hearing.
Mom drove me to an odd building, led me to a secure room and left. A young nurse told me to undress. I was totally naked. An older woman in scrubs and a man entered. They strapped my arms and legs down to a cold steel table. The nurse offered the woman a syringe, but she declined and said "No, I want this creep to feel it".
It all started a month ago. I lived with my mom and sister, dad was gone. My sister was 19, with a tight body and medium sized, perky tits. Mom was thick, curvy, with giant tits. Both recently got their naval's pierced with matching studs. Neither had boyfriends, but they were very promiscuous. We lived in a mobile home with thin walls, so I could hear them getting fucked often.
I made some mistakes. First, my sister caught me peeping on her in the shower and told mom. Then, two of her "friends" came over for sex. They took turns on her. She got very loud. After they left, I went in her room. She covered herself, but I saw her pussy and stomach first. There were small puddles of cum around her pantyline, and some more of it leaking out of her. I told her I was still a virgin and asked if I could "go next" on her. She yelled "get out" and told mom when she got home from work.
The third incident was more serious they said. Mom would sometimes drink and pass out. I'd never felt tits before and hers were so enticing. She had some drinks and went to bed. I snuck in. She was asleep, uncovered, wearing a gown. I grabbed her heaving boobs. Then I took one of my hands off her chest and pulled the gown above her waist, exposing her. I slid my hand between her legs and rubbed her pussy. She woke up and caught me. She was pissed. The next day my sister told me they had turned me in and there would be a hearing.
So I knew why I was on the metal table, but I didn't know what was next. I couldn't see, there was a drape at my waist. It started with gloves and cold metal on my genitals, then clamping, pinching, pulling, and eventually a sharp puncturing pain near my balls. I begged them to stop, but they did it 2 more times, once on my cock. Finally a metal device was brought out. I could feel it being slid on, clamped down, tightened, then locked. "All done" they said and left. The young nurse stayed behind.
She removed the drape and released the straps. I inspected the "device". My cock and balls had been fed through a steel ring that tightly encircled them at the base. It was secured to a piercing just above my taint and another at the top. My penis was locked in a tight steel "cage" with a hole at the end for pissing. The head had been pierced and a metal bar went through me as extra security. It wasn't going anywhere. The whole thing was super tight.
"What is this?" I asked.
She explained. "It's your chastity device. Your genitals have been locked up. At the hearing, your mother and sister requested that you be put in chastity. The safety council asked them how long they thought would be appropriate and both wanted you locked forever. Since the incidents involved incest, the council agreed. Your penis is locked for life. I'm your keyholder nurse. I will help with adjustments, cleanings, draining your balls, and anything else needed for chastity".
"When do I get to take off?" I said.
She answered, "You're locked forever. So you wont get to take it off. They have to keep you locked so your sister is safe and to punish you for what you did to your mom. You wont be able to have sex or force anyone. Since you can't masturbate, your balls might swell, so you will see me every other month to drain them, do a deep cleaning, and tighten your cage, if necessary.
--------------------------------XXX--------------------------------

Part 2

The room was cold. My keyholder nurse was a cute twenty-something. A name tag with "Beverly" was pinned above her perky boobs. Her scrub top was tight around her chest. I could see the shape of her breasts and her hard nipples pressing againt the fabric. I stared and my cage got tighter. She noticed and grinned slightly.
I got back to business, "Can I appeal or get parole or something? What happens next?"
She answered, "Sorry, no appeals for chastity. There is parole, but not for incest cases. What you did is considered extremely disgusting, so they deemed you a "most extreme pervert". Incest offenders get more severe penalties and no parole. I'm not supposed to be judgemental, but you're my first incest case and it sounded really awful at your hearing. It's hard to believe creeps as bad as you even exist, who rubs their own mom's pussy? This case is really bad, so I'm gonna go harder on you than my other guys. I hope it was worth it. So here's what's next...your mother and sister are entitled to a final inspection of your genitals, then you'll go directly to prison to be processed and locked up in the chastity unit."
I was confused and responded with frustration, "I can't believe this is happening to me. I just got too horny seeing the girls dressed like sluts and listening to them getting fucked all the time. After seeing my sisters cum-filled pussy, I lost control and slipped up. If she just gave me sloppy seconds, I wouldn't have done all that to mom....What do you mean prison?!?!"
She responded, bursting with excitement, "Dont worry, you'll learn your lesson! OH! I see they didn't tell you about prison yet, since you were a rush case. Chastity is just an add-on to your prison sentence as an extra penalty and to keep everyone safe. Let me look at your file to see how much time you'll serve."
Looking at her tablet, she smiled big and replied, "I've never gotten to do this before! Most guys hear about their sentence before they get to me...Ok, so they actually got you taken care of pretty good here. It got split up into multiple counts, so fortunately, they were able to put you away for a long time."
She continued, "Your sister had you convicted on two charges, one for the shower incident and one for the bedroom incident. You got two more for mom, one for groping her tits and another for going between her legs. I'll read them off...
Count 1, Incestual peeping, sentence: 1 year special confinement
Count 2, Incestual peeping with propositioning, sentence: 1.5 years special confinement
Count 3, 2nd Degree Incestual Sexual Battery, 2 years special confinement
Ok and here's the big one! For touching mom's pussy...
Count 4, 1st Dregee Incestual Sexual Battery, 4.5 years RIGOROUS confinement in the SCU-I, (Special Chastity Unit, Incest wing), with intensive perversion correction."
So you'll do nine years total, with the first four-and-a-half in the incest wing."
I was completely shocked, "Nine years!? Are you serious? What's special confinement? Am I going to regular prison or what?
Beverely explained, "Special confinement means you'll be put in the chastity unit. It's a separate level for inmates that have their genitals locked, like rapists and other perverts. It's a little different. The cells are super small, you don't get any privileges like TV, and you stay locked in your cell for 23 hours a day. But don't worry. Most of my guys are in the chastity unit. They all want out really bad, but they're fine. Some eventually leave for regular population if their sentence allows, but you'll actually just be finishing up in the main chasity unit after you're done with rigororous confinement for the first four-and-a-half. You'll start off in the incest wing".
"What is all that? I asked
Beverly explained further, "It's a big deal. That's why I got so excited when I read your sentence on count 4. It wasn't just the amount of time you got, but what'll be happening to you that makes it a heavy one. I've heard it's very extreme. Since you're my first incest case, I'm not as familiar with it, but I've heard you're basically caged up 24/7 and pretty much treated like an animal. I'm not sure if you even get a toilet or a bed. You only leave your cage once every two weeks for perversion correction, which I might get to assist with, and you'll get another device I've heard about, called the "silver bullet". I think it's an anal device? You'll learn more about that when you get there. Oh! Looks like it's time to get you ready for inspection."
The door opened as she left and two female guards entered. One had a tazer. They led me to another table. This one had wheels. I sat on the edge. One grabbed my ankles and another tried to push me on my back. I resisted, trying to spin off the table. I was immediately tazed, then sedated, imobilizing me. "This will be easier for if you just comply" she said. I was on my back again. My ankles were lifted toward my head, folding my legs over me. Thick zip ties were placed around my ankles and calfs. My hands and forearms were looped through both, then "zzzzzzzztttt", it was all cinched down tight, securing my arms to my legs. A bar was secured between my knees, keeping me exposed. Beverly came back in. One of the guards said "He's all yours hon" as they left.
"Let's get you cleaned up" Beverly said. "Your mom and sister are on their way and they're excited to see your private parts all locked up for good.
She put gloves on, then approached the table, placing one hand over my nose. I opened my mouth and she shoved a gag in and secured it around my head. "This is just a temporary gag. Your sister didn't want you talking during inspection. I believe you'll get more securely gagged and muzzled when you get to processing. I've heard the guys don't get solid food in the incest wing, you get fed a liquid diet, like that soylent stuff, that you'll take through a drinking tube in your gag. It's really amazing how good they have you incest perverts locked up over there. I can't wait to see you like that.
She started the cleaning by soaping and lathering around my crotch, exposed parts were shaved. She walked away, coming back with a tube and a bag full of fluid that she hung from a pole. The label read "Enema". Beverly explained, "Gotta clean you inside and out. First I'll get you lubed up". She grabbed a metal syring, inserted the tip in my ass, and injected me with lube. At the end of enema tube, there was a detachable nozzle with two inflatable bulbs. One was forced in my ass and both were inflated, locking it in place. I could see the tube going from the bag to inside me. I felt like I was being treated like an animal already. She turned a valve, the fluid began flowing and filled me up. She set a timer for 35 minutes, and sat on her stool, reading cosmo. After an agonizing wait, she removed the nozzle plug, allowing me to release. Finally, thank goodness. I was soaped up again and rinsed. She cleaned up the enema nozzle plug, added more lube, and shoved it back1 inside me. "Putting this back in so we dont have any potential leaks" she said, as she inflated it. She disconnected the outside end of the inflatable nozzle where it attached to the longer enema tube, clamped it off, and let go of it. I felt it bounce around as it settled. "You're all set" she exclaimed.
I was wheeled on the cart-like table through a long, busy hallway to a different room for inspection. I could feel the protruding nozzle plug in my ass flop around as the cart moved. The other employees stared as I went by, a few smiled with satisfaction. How humiliating I thought. I heard murmuring. "Bitchtied pervert getting what he deserves!" one girl said angrily.
Finally in the inspection room, I waited. The door opened, Beverly entered with two blondes behind her, my mom and my sister. The two gorgeous sluts were dressed similar. My mom was wearing tight, denim, high waisted shorts that displayed her ass and curvy hips, they were pulled-up high in a way that you could see the denim tight against her twat. My sister came dressed in super short spandex yoga shorts, tight ones that lifted her already firm butt into perfection. Both wore crop tops with their stomachs and matching naval piercings exposed. Images of my sister's sloppy pussy flashed in my head, my cock and balls both swelled. I stared at their bodies and let out a loud, desperate moan as my cage grew excruciatingly tight.
Part 3 to follow...

Cara seemed to imply that the Molly Malone statue has it's breasts rubbed because it's a female statue and it'd be disrespectful to rub a statue of a man, like Lincoln. Of course, statues of all kinds get their parts rubbed shiny, include a statue of Lincoln, who's nose is now shiny. The Renaldo statue in Portugal has had it's crotch rubbed shiny. Sure it's disrespectful to the Molly Malone statue, but it's not done only to the female statues.

Hi! First time posting, so bear with me! My wonderful long term boyfriend volunteered to get a vasectomy after seeing how miserable I am on birth control. (He doesn’t want any biological kids of his own. I have very limited BC options, and tubes being tied would be complicated per multiple doctors) So he went ahead and scheduled it. Well it just came to my attention tonight watching them all play and horse around, that I’m going to have to tell my girls something. I need them to understand to be gentle with the poor sweet man while he heals. I can definitely tell my kiddos his butt and crotch hurts so no jumping on him. But ya, they are 7 and 9. 😆🤷‍♀️ They will have questions as to while their “fun silly” parent isn’t running around with them like normal for the next 2-3 weeks. Any ideas that do not involve going into detail about male anatomy would be great! They definitely understand what surgery is, as I’ve had a lot of abdominal surgery. As for the peeps worried I’m over sheltering my girls, if they ask a question I try my best to give an AGE appropriate answer. And yes, they know proper anatomy terms for male and female. I just don’t think their Stepdad (or I) will be comfortable yelling to stay off his testicle area while jumping on the couch to watch a movie or horse around. Any ideas would be great!

Breston Boobilay
Breston Boobilay meandered his way along the sprawling New York sidewalk, stifling a stagger as he lurched forward. He was on a drunken mission like so many others he’d set out on before, and this mission, like all others, entailed the timely acquisition of cheap, night-time cooze. Air to the vast Boobilay Meat Pie fortune, Breston rarely had trouble sniffing out hole. But, out there, gripped in the chill of the brisk winter wind, he found himself with his balls as blue as his icy fingertips.
Breston rubbed his palms together and shuddered, watching the breath escape him in thick, swirling plumes. That’s when he noticed the flickering red neon through the gloom ahead, and he couldn’t help but smile as he felt himself instantly become warmer. He lit a cigarette in an effort to restore his sobriety, however briefly, as he thought about what potentially awaited him beyond the door he now found himself in front of. Pussy, and more booze, and maybe even a plug that wouldn’t turn out to be just another irritating, time wasting dipshit. Breston took one last satisfying drag from his smoke before tossing it in the slush on the curb as it sizzled and died. Then, he opened the door and went inside.
Breston Boobilay 2: Electric Boobilay
Breston came inside and a thick fog of lingering smoke whipped by his head out into the icy chill of the New York City winter he’d just left behind. The door slammed through the force of an incoming gust and Breston shivered as a conglomerate of weary eyes turned to meet his reddened, eager face. The patrons of the bar were hardly the fresh meat he’d been hoping to encounter in a shithole like that. The collective weathered faces, likely habitual fixtures of the place, turned back to their drinks and their dull, mumbled conversations as Breston made himself at home on a stool at the far end of the bar, ordering a J&B on the rocks. Breston reached into his coat pocket and retrieved a new cigarette, lighting it and inhaling deeply. The smoke escaped him, and as it dispersed across the room he noticed the only remotely fuckable woman there as she eyed him with intrigue from the other side of the bar. Breston clutched up his drink, drained it, and moved in for the kill.
“Got a light?” She asked, seductively, after he had closed the distance having brushed his way through the decaying bodies of the scant Tuesday night crowd.
“No,” Breston replied smoothly, “But I have an eight-point-five inch long penis.”
Her bleach-blond bangs ruffled in excitement, the way a cat’s fuzzy face might if you were to hold a fishy treat up to it. There was only one kind of pussy that Breston was interested in, and only one type of fishy treat.
“Is that right?” The pussy purred, her blue green-flecked eyes brightening. “You wouldn’t lie to a lady now, would you?”
Breston felt his four-point-eight inch long member stiffen in his jeans and he readjusted his posture to conceal it.
“How about that light?” Breston murmured sensually, offering up his burning tip for the lady’s smoke.
“My, my,” She said, the words passing her lips in slow rolls of erotic delight. Pouting them around the slender filter, she moved in closer to Breston, taking her sweet time before finally allowing the cigarette to burn. “what a gentleman…”
“How old are you, by the way?” Breston interjected flirtily, “Like thirty, or something?”
“I’m twenty-eight…”
“Good enough,” Breston didn’t usually bang out grandmas, but in a drought like the one plaguing him, he knew it best to seek out any port possible to wait out the storm of pussilessness until the opportunity for a half-decent fuck with a youthful lay presented itself like that sword in the stone, or whatever the fuck it was. The thought occurred to Breston as if a crotch lightbulb had lit up around his midsection: ‘Perhaps she has a younger, hotter roommate…’ “Your place or mine? I have to warn you, though, my shitter is all backed up.”
“I… guess… we could go back to my-” The pussy stammered.
“Great, Let’s go.” Breston interrupted, sexily.
“Aren’t you at least going to buy me a drink first?” The pussy pleaded, motioning towards the disinterested bartender presumably getting ready to close up.
“Sure, we can stop at a liquor store on the way and grab some forties. If we move fast, we can make it before they stop selling booze. Come on, hurry!” Said Breston, throwing up an arm in the direction of the door like some mad conductor in the throes of a beautiful symphonic din.
And so Breston and the cheap night-time cooze bounded out into the darkness from whence they’d came, moving swiftly, lest the hour evade them and Breston be forced to grunt atop the relatively sub-5 geriatric female in the midst of returning accursed sobriety. An outcome which, he knew, simply wasn’t an option.
Breston Boobilay 3: Curse of the Cooze
“We have you now, Mr. Boobilay!” Malphus Mephistopheles cackled menacingly, relishing in his imminent, long-awaited triumph over renegade superspy Breston Boobilay, who lay helpless, strapped to the long metallic table as the laser beam drew ever closer to his bulging crotch. “Tell me, how does it feel to know that you will never get pussy again? Bwahahahaha!”
Breston could feel the billion-degree heat running along his exposed thighs, threatening his tighty-whitey clad dick and balls with extinction. That’s when he remembered; the tabs of flunitrazepam contained in the secret toe compartments of his shiny black loafers, of which Malphus’s underlings had neglected to remove along with his tuxedo pants. Breston began to chuckle a cackled laugh of his own, drawing the ire of his bedraggled captor.
“You know what your problem is, Malphus?” Malphus moved in closer, slamming a pale, thin palm down on the table by Breston’s head. Breston didn’t even blink. “You never got pussy. That’s why you hate me so much.”
“That isn’t true!” Malphus shrieked, the remainders of his long scraggly hair standing on end. “I’ve got pussy, lots of times!”
“Oh, yeah?” Breston replied coolly, “Who from?”
“You wouldn’t know her. She goes to a different school…”
The laser beam was just a few inches away from destroying Breston entirely, the distinctive burning stench of singed pubes beginning to fill the small subterranean chamber. He knew that he had to act fast.
“You wanna know a secret, Malphus?” Breston half-whispered.
“What?” Malphus replied, leaning in.
“SURPRISE ROOFIE!” With a flick of his loafer, Breston discharged a fleet of small pills into Malphus’s’s shocked, wide open mouth. He began to gag as they became lodged in his throat. ‘Bullseye’, Breston thought to himself smugly as he smirked, reaching out his hand and snatching the insane scientist's keys from his belt beneath his stained lab coat. In a flash, Breston was free and on his feet. By the time he was straightening his tie, Malphus Mephistopheles was passed out on the cold, metal floor; drooling.
Breston laughed, dropping his underwear and proceeding to teabag the unconscious man. Breston’s laugh erupted into a cackle surpassing that of any villain he had previously encountered, loud enough to alert Malphus’es’s throng of penguin-like minions. They gasped in horror as they witnessed the violation of their master.
“Who’s next!” Breston roared, the weird little penguin freaks fucking off in abject defeat, screaming as they went.
“I’m unstoppable! Do you understand that! I’m a god! I’m Breston Boobilay! Look at my work, and tremble!”
All of a sudden, Breston felt that familiar dreaded feeling begin to rear up from inside him. It stabbed at him with doubts and the incessant pain and the anxiety that made his body tremor. In an instant, he felt the power drain from him, replaced by something else. Something terrible. He looked down at his quaking hands, and saw that they were dripping with blood.
Breston awoke with a scream, as did the cooze he’d shacked up with. She hissed at him, still very cat-like in her manner.
“What the fuck, dude! Are you okay?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Breston sighed, rubbing at the beading rows of sweat dangling from his manly brow. “Just another night terror…”
“Why is my bed all wet?..” The girl questioned hesitantly, “Is that… is that piss!”
“No!” Breston felt himself beneath the sheets, soaked to the bone. “No, it’s just sweat! See?”
Breston removed his hand from his soiled groin, lifting it up to her face so that she might smell that it was in fact only sweat. She screamed, penguinishly, as she fled from the room in hysterics. Breston stood and began to put his clothes back on, eyes never moving from the large dark stain covering the pink bedspread. It was a stain as dark as his soul, and Breston knew that he couldn’t hide from it deep in a pussy hole for very much longer…
Breston Boobilay 4: The Quest For Peace
Breston glared into the steam rising from his coffee cup, the sinuous curves of its alluring dance making his dick twitch minutely in subtle arousal. The hangover was debilitating, but he told himself that it would pass with the caffeine and the shower he longed for back at home. However, to his despair, Breston knew better. How many times had he been there before, like that? Not in that exact diner, in that exact situation, mouth dry as an old nun’s cooze and smelling faintly like urine, but simply infirm, haggard, and desperate for some kind of meaningful relief? Breston knew, in that uniquely lonely moment, that he’d never find it.
The waitress breasted boobily across the diner floor, carrying Breston’s pie aloft in the air towards him. He couldn’t help but take notice of the way that her uniform hugged her body as her bosom heaved heftily as she walked, and, yet, Breston’s manhood remained as limp and placid as a premature baby’s pinkie. She reminded him of her, when they first met. She set the plate down, wrinkling her nose in disgust as she smelled Breston’s undying shame.
“Will that be all, sir?” She said, already preparing to turn and leave him there, all alone. Just like she did.
Breston wanted to scream ‘No!’. He wanted to yell at her and spew out all the things that he should have said, before it was too late. Breston wanted to spring up from the booth and grab the woman by the knockers and say ‘Were they worth it! Does he love them better than I did!’, but, he didn’t. Instead, he said nothing. The waitress was already gone, along with Breston’s will to live. The coffee’s steam had diminished down to small, dwindling whisps. He scooped up the mug and finished its contents, focusing on the lukewarm liquid as it spilled down his throat as if it might quell the shaking in his hands. Breston knew that only one thing could do that. He glanced at the clock behind the counter. It was eleven-thirty AM. Time to hit the sauce, he thought, grimacing.
Breston Boobilay 5: A Long Way Down
The chilly afternoon stung at Breston as he brought the bottle back up to his lips for another sickening hit of brandy. The shakes had left him, but his despair had only grown. It had calcified, made clear in his mind in a way that was truly unignorable and utterly undeniable. Everything good that Breston had ever had; his wife, his upper management job at the Brooklyn meat plant, his youth. It had all gone away so quickly. Breston thought of his parents, and the beginnings of a tear began to form before being swept away across his temple by the incoming wind. He thought about the last thing his father had said to him before he had stormed out to go drinking the previous weekend: ‘Breston, you're forty-two-years old. It’s time you moved out of the house.’, and he remembered how angry he’d been; yelling and cussing him out as a ‘frigid dinosaur’ who refused to take the time to understand Breston’s ‘alternative lifestyle’, and he couldn’t help but laugh. Father could never understand.
Breston tipped the bottle over his mouth and gulped down the remains of the liquor as he savored every last, overpriced trickle before shambling over to the guardrail at the rooftop’s edge. He eyed the distance between the two buildings, then he took the drop into account. After a moment, he took a step back, raised the bottle over his head, and launched it. It arched high over the street below before clattering against a tall windowpane of the office block opposite the building he was on.
“Bullseye…” Breston said aloud, to no one.
Suddenly, he got a flash of the dream he’d had the night before when he blacked out in that cooze kitten’s piss pad, and the urge to run and jump doubled in intensity. Breston didn’t like to remember. He didn’t want to. But, even in his nightmares, Matty was still there. Matty was always there. He was their favorite. Always was. It was always, ‘Breston, why can’t you be more like your younger brother?’, ‘Why can’t you be more like Matty?’. Always so perfect, with his good grades and mommy’s constant approval. Breston hated him. Oh, how he hated Matty with every fiber of his being, and he made that clear when Matty reached highschool. Breston was supposed to look out for Matty, protect him. But Breston did anything but. Matty was shy, and insecure about himself, but, most of all, Matty was ashamed of the fact that he’d never had a girlfriend before. Breston would make a big show of bringing whatever hoe-bag he’d seduced with daddy’s money back home so that he could flaunt her around like some prize that Matty could never earn, which crushed him, but not nearly as much as when Breston began spreading the rumors around school about how his dick didn’t work. By the end of the week, Matty was little more than a laughing stock and an emotional, broken wreck, and by the end of the month, Matty was dead.
“It wasn’t my fault, you stupid fuck!” Breston screamed into the dispassionate, gray New York sky within which no God could ever dwell, flashes of his mother screeching, ‘You did this! You!’ tearing at him like sharpened, savage claws ripping their way ravenously through a model’s skimpy lingerie. “I could have helped you! I could have made it all okay again!”
Breston fell to his knees and began to sob like the sad little boy he’d always known he was, feeling more alone than he ever had been before in his entire life. He had made so many mistakes. So many people hurt, and for what? His passing, childish amusement? His bottomless desire for gratification? A cover to hide from the hurt of it all? Breston didn’t know anymore, and he didn’t want to. He couldn’t think about it anymore. He couldn’t take it.
Standing on trembling legs, Breston tentatively put both hands on the railing before gripping it firmly, whimpering as if it produced some sort of electric shock with his touch. He tried to remember when the last time he had felt scared like that was, but he realized that there was nothing even remotely comparable to hold onto. Before another thought could pass through Breston’s head, he took a quick, deep breath, closed his eyes, thrust one foot over the waist-high metal railing and allowed himself to fall. The wind whipped him with the force of a jet engine as he soared towards the ground, half-screaming, half-choking as it knocked the air out of him. Despite the unimaginable terror, and all the regret and the shame and the misery and the abject disappointment that was his nothing of a life, Breston couldn’t help but feel at peace now that it was finally all over. For a fraction of a second, Breston opened his eyes, and he never closed them again…

Background: 32 year old female, vegetarian, underweight (working on gaining).
Have you ever gotten a CT scan with contrast injected into you? You know that feeling like hot lava rushing through your body all the way from your neck to your crotch? Those are my symptoms today (noon-9 pm). Arms feel like they are on fire and now my entire torso/stomach do. Other thing I noticed (maybe not connected) are my toes are purple. I have a history of anxiety and I am 6 weeks post discontinuing Sertraline. Should I go to first care or is this all in my head?

TL:DR at the bottom! Read that first because I'm horrible at writing even the shortest of essays, also working right now so I don't have time just an extremely quick vent.
Going to keep it short and simple as possible because it's better that way.
Most probably going to sound like a wimpy kid but I think it's kind of over for me, I've made so many mistakes with the chicks that were into me in high school that they all became uninterested in me. I was just an extremely soft dude who didn't put dating into the next level (getting in bed with my dates) and I wasn't as handsome so that they would grab me by my crotch or something like that, so they all became really bored/annoyed of me.
Also overromanticized a girl which I talked to for literally 3 minutes in real life and 15 total minutes on Instagram, not going to get into the details I just approached her and was completely shy and mumbled something to her (basically asked her out), she instantly rejected me. We were both young and it was innocent, I'm really happy I approached her that day now, but back in the day I was extremely sad and mad, I was an even wimpier kid than now. What I'm not happy about is that I was ghosting her irl in school, because she rejected me and also didn't text me back on Facebook (she probably didn't even see the message because facebook is messy and puts non friend messages to a certain hidden message section), she was visibly mad iirc. All of this doesn't matter that much either to be honest, we talked after I even gave her a little love letter with a gift :3 . I respect her a lot and of course still have a crush on her, but nothing serious I'm not a stalkepsycho. Just needed to include this in the post because I still think I fumbled her and she means a lot to me to this very day, healthy or unhealthy to ponder about this encounter still idk and idc tbh.
After high school came online dating (Tinder). I was started getting into one night stands, thinking back now the few first girls I slept with were really hot but I was underperforming in bed or was just a complete weirdo in general (not much skill with chicks still back then). I was also a casual porn consumer until around my first couple one night stands, which was a really big mistake, porn probably impacted a lot of things in my life even though I was a pretty light consumer of it.
I've had 2 short (couple of months) friendship with benefits or situationships whatever you might want to call them around this time from Tinder. Both chicks cut it with me but I didn't care that much I was already dead inside a bit.
Hooking up with strangers from tinder was a huge mistake, I became a complete womanizewoman hater. Made me feel bitter about how I fumbled a lot of chicks in high school who liked me, I have the feeling they dumped me just because I didn't F their brains out, which they probably dumped me for to be really honest. Made me feel that I'm just a walking dildo.
My wording/composition might be horrible and the little wimpy storyline above might as well just be a past pondering messed up anxiety vent.
What I'm trying to get at is that I became completely bitter person, extremely horny with little to no friends and no female partner (friend or sex partner even). I hate my past, I hate where I'm at now, I kinda hate women a bit too still although I think that's gonna completely fade away very soon. I don't think I'm gonna find women in the future (balding, I'm unsuccessful in my work hence I'm broke and time is ticking).
I also think of my past mistakes too much, in an extremely unhealthy way, I have the feeling that it's all over forever and I've been robbed of everything. It's eating me up inside. Curious if any of you feel the same a bit and how do you fight it, days just go by I know sometimes it's better sometimes it's worse but I feel the same since nearly 6-7 years for now. Completely burnt out after high school it seems, I peaked at high school and I didn't ride the waves properly? I feel like I fumbled the bag/chicks and it's just over.
TL:DR
I think of my past mistakes for 6-7 years now which seems to be extremely unhealthy, I missed out on all of teen love/teen sex and it made me extremely bitter.
What I'm really mad for is that I can't seem to live/enjoy life properly, I put myself in an imaginary idiotic different timeline that I ponder on, being depressed about the good old "WHAT IF" if you know what I mean, it's really eating me up inside and I have no idea how to deal with it because the feeling is just becoming stronger and stronger.
Curious if a phsyciatrist/phsychologist can do something with this or I shouldn't consult with them and I'm just a wimpy lame kid who just needs to man up. I try my best still tho, I work out, my hobby is my work and I make better money than my friends do, just got my license, have a car, fixed my sleep schedule etc.

Anxious about expanding family with rescue dog that has bite history with adult male humans
Hello everyone,
I am mostly writing to put down my thoughts and fears into one place and hoping to hear suggestions from internet strangers with experience in this matter.
We adopted a 2 year old rescue lab pit mix through a local organization 5 months ago, let's call him P.
General demeanor: Very sweet, loving in his home with his family (one male and one female household ). He has been introduced to our immediate family that are mostly women and has even stayed with them when we took a 3 day holiday with no issues. He is absolutely terrified of loud urban environments and doesn't even want to go on walks in our quiet neighborhood. He is fearful of garbage trucks, sudden noises, garbage bags, etc. He loves car rides, walking on trails. We go to trails when we can. We are currently enrolled in a 10 week obedience course from a balanced trainer that came recommended by our vet for behavioural issues. He is doing well and has learnt to walk with less pulling, knows sit, stay, down, roll over with 50-80% consistency and we are working on improving it. He is crate trained and we are working on him tolerating a muzzle.
History: When we were adopting him, his foster mentioned that he nipped a friend of his when they were all at the beach. The friend went to grab a backpack from a pile of things where P was sitting. His foster explained this as a guarding behavior, that he was protecting his belongings. He mentioned that it was only a nip and not a full bite. The foster also mentioned a nip towards his female partner related to food aggression that quickly went away after she hand fed P.
Recent Incidents since P coming home with us:

1. P was sitting on the couch, my partner was in the kitchen and his friend was in our living room. P was already introduced to this friend a few times prior. The friend was playing with P and he shoved his face near his. P bit his ear and broke skin, a little blood, no stitches needed. The friend was tended to immediately and he felt that it was partly his fault. If this was the only incident that P had, I would not be writing this post.
   
2. This one was more serious. By this point we know P's boundaries and let all visitors know to give P space. P along with his human (my partner) met a friend while on the sidewalk. Friend stayed outside to continue to chat with another neighbor. My partner left the front door unlocked for friend to walk into our home. 10-15 minutes later friend let himself him. P ran towards the door with his tail wagging. Then a few minutes later my partner who was a few feet away heard screaming and P running away with his tail tucked in. P approached the friend with his tail tucked in and bit his crotch area. Broke skin with scratches.
   

Now that we know of two very different incidents, we have a protocol of what we do when people come to our home.

1. Near miss Another male came to our home with a few other female guests. We decided to do our protocol that we came up with after discussion with his current trainer. We introduce everyone outside of our home first with lots of treats. Continue to treat as we enter home and keep P on a leash. As we are all standing in the living room, P very casually turns around to bite the male's crotch area again! Since he was on the leash, he wasn't successful at biting but made contact with his pants. He let out a slight growl as this male sat himself on the couch. I then brought a huge bowl of treats and let this male hand feed treats the whole time while I kept him on the leash. This incident was very minor as other people didn't even notice that P misbehaved.

Some good things and bad.

1. P has never showed any aggression towards males, strangers or not while outside of our home. Stopping on a trail, or in our neighborhood talking to someone etc. Mostly disinterested in pulling towards people or other dogs.
   
2. P's foster used to let him run around without a leash in a very busy urban park with many people and dogs walking around. He said that he did it everyday and I'm assuming with no incidents.
   
3. Trend of biting is towards males in our home. The worrisome bit is they come with little or no warning such growling, barking etc.
   
4. Our trainer seems to feel that he can be trained and both actual bite incidents were not that bad and were justified in P's mind. P was likely guarding himself and his home during both incidents and may feel threatened with males in his space.
   
5. The near miss nip did let me see a version of this where it can be managed, although I feel a lot of stress around it.
   
6. Here is the big question... We have a baby on the way and have several months to prep. I know it's right of me to worry but is it reasonable to say that we do not know if P will be aggressive towards a baby or a toddler? He is sweet with everyone at home and tolerates all kind of invasion of his space by his current too humans. I am not hoping for P and baby to be besties, in fact, we will have to keep them 100% separated at all times as P is unpredictable. A part of me feels it's unfair to P if I get too anxious about this even before baby arrives and haven't even given him a chance to see how he behaves in that environment. This is what my partner's thoughts are right now.
   

I am very anxious about this and wanted to write this as I won't have a chance to speak to our trainer until the end of this week.
Tldr: Dog has biting history with adult males, in different situations. How much should I worry about welcoming a newborn in a few months? Should I let the baby arrive and see how dog reacts before making big decisions that alter dogs life. Dog is sweet and loving with his both male and female humans.

Hello everyone,
I am mostly writing to put down my thoughts and fears into one place and hoping to hear suggestions from internet strangers with experience in this matter.
We adopted a 2 year old rescue lab pit mix through a local organization 5 months ago, let's call him P.
General demeanor: Very sweet, loving in his home with his family (one male and one female household ). He has been introduced to our immediate family that are mostly women and has even stayed with them when we took a 3 day holiday with no issues. He is absolutely terrified of loud urban environments and doesn't even want to go on walks in our quiet neighborhood. He is fearful of garbage trucks, sudden noises, garbage bags, etc. He loves car rides, walking on trails. We go to trails when we can. We are currently enrolled in a 10 week obedience course from a balanced trainer that came recommended by our vet for behavioural issues. He is doing well and has learnt to walk with less pulling, knows sit, stay, down, roll over with 50-80% consistency and we are working on improving it. He is crate trained and we are working on him tolerating a muzzle.
History: When we were adopting him, his foster mentioned that he nipped a friend of his when they were all at the beach. The friend went to grab a backpack from a pile of things where P was sitting. His foster explained this as a guarding behavior, that he was protecting his belongings. He mentioned that it was only a nip and not a full bite. The foster also mentioned a nip towards his female partner related to food aggression that quickly went away after she hand fed P.
Recent Incidents since P coming home with us:

1. P was sitting on the couch, my partner was in the kitchen and his friend was in our living room. P was already introduced to this friend a few times prior. The friend was playing with P and he shoved his face near his. P bit his ear and broke skin, a little blood, no stitches needed. The friend was tended to immediately and he felt that it was partly his fault. If this was the only incident that P had, I would not be writing this post.
   
2. This one was more serious. By this point we know P's boundaries and let all visitors know to give P space. P along with his human (my partner) met a friend while on the sidewalk. Friend stayed outside to continue to chat with another neighbor. My partner left the front door unlocked for friend to walk into our home. 10-15 minutes later friend let himself him. P ran towards the door with his tail wagging. Then a few minutes later my partner who was a few feet away heard screaming and P running away with his tail tucked in. P approached the friend with his tail tucked in and bit his crotch area. Broke skin with scratches.
   

Now that we know of two very different incidents, we have a protocol of what we do when people come to our home.

1. Near miss Another male came to our home with a few other female guests. We decided to do our protocol that we came up with after discussion with his current trainer. We introduce everyone outside of our home first with lots of treats. Continue to treat as we enter home and keep P on a leash. As we are all standing in the living room, P very casually turns around to bite the male's crotch area again! Since he was on the leash, he wasn't successful at biting but made contact with his pants. He let out a slight growl as this male sat himself on the couch. I then brought a huge bowl of treats and let this male hand feed treats the whole time while I kept him on the leash. This incident was very minor as other people didn't even notice that P misbehaved.

Some good things and bad.

1. P has never showed any aggression towards males, strangers or not while outside of our home. Stopping on a trail, or in our neighborhood talking to someone etc. Mostly disinterested in pulling towards people or other dogs.
   
2. P's foster used to let him run around without a leash in a very busy urban park with many people and dogs walking around. He said that he did it everyday and I'm assuming with no incidents.
   
3. Trend of biting is towards males in our home. The worrisome bit is they come with little or no warning such growling, barking etc.
   
4. Our trainer seems to feel that he can be trained and both actual bite incidents were not that bad and were justified in P's mind. P was likely guarding himself and his home during both incidents and may feel threatened with males in his space.
   
5. The near miss nip did let me see a version of this where it can be managed, although I feel a lot of stress around it.
   
6. Here is the big question... We have a baby on the way and have several months to prep. I know it's right of me to worry but is it reasonable to say that we do not know if P will be aggressive towards a baby or a toddler? He is sweet with everyone at home and tolerates all kind of invasion of his space by his current too humans. I am not hoping for P and baby to be besties, in fact, we will have to keep them 100% separated at all times as P is unpredictable. A part of me feels it's unfair to P if I get too anxious about this even before baby arrives and haven't even given him a chance to see how he behaves in that environment. This is what my partner's thoughts are right now.
   

I am very anxious about this and wanted to write this as I won't have a chance to speak to our trainer until the end of this week.
Tldr: Dog has biting history with adult males, in different situations. How much should I worry about welcoming a newborn in a few months? Should I let the baby arrive and see how dog reacts before making big decisions that alter dogs life. Dog is sweet and loving with his both male and female humans.

I've been looking through various posts and seeing what some people had to say about the game. I had some of my own ideas about how to either make this current game better or improve a possible sequel. My ideas are as follows. Have a look and see if you'd like to see any of these, or if you have any to add!

CharactePublic Relations

First and foremost, what I think is in most desperate need of a revamp is how we interact with the world of Stellar Blade and its inhabitants. I think a future game would benefit from the following:

• More time with Lily and the new main male teammate (or whoever the third member of the team ends up being, but I’d prefer a male). I felt like I barely knew Lily and Adam by the end of the game and I’d like as the player to be able to interact with them more. I don’t fully understand how Lily grew to love Eve so much or how Adam came to trust Eve so fully with as little time as they had with each other.
• To the above point, I'd also like to be able to bring our friends with us and have them fight alongside us, if we want them to come along. Bringing them with us could be tied to our Affinity score with the character and/or unlock certain perks or side quests.
• It should be a little harder to level up Affinity than it was in this game (I made three purchases from Roxanne before we were “good friends,” for instance) and to have more in-depth quest lines for the citizens of Xion. I'd really like to get attached to the place and the people.
• Perhaps a real romance element to the game. “Adam and Eve…” Now, I’m not exactly committed to the idea, Eve doesn’t need a love interest… but it’d be nice to have the option to engage in that sort of thing, if we want to.
• For choices to matter! We have maybe two or three dialogue options in the game and only one of them is of any consequence. I’d like to have an affect on the larger world and have a sort of “reputation” system. People see us as an angel or a devil based on what we say and do… especially with how the Bad Ending and True Ending go.

Story

• For Mother Sphere to be more fleshed out. Yes, she’s the standard, run-of-the-mill rogue AI who took over the world and wiped out her creators. But, there can always be more to it. Nothing intelligent does something for no reason. I’d like to know more about her and her personality, not just about whether people are devoted to her or scornful of her based on whether or not they see her as their god.
• Perhaps a redemption arc or a coming-to-terms with her place in the world for Raven, or turning her into a true Big Bad. Her profile seems to indicate she’s in a living hell at the moment and Eve intends to forget about her and leave her in that broken state… but perhaps there’s something to be said for an “enemy of my enemy is my friend” or for Mother Sphere superimposing her will over Raven despite the Naytiba corruption.
• Eve came a long way and the way the True Ending plays out leads me to believe that we will see fewer Naytibas and more of Mother Sphere’s forces. The Naytiba don’t have to totally disappear as an enemy type, but the sequel should definitely focus on all knew enemy types.
• There should be a bit more lore about why Adam was so angelic and about how he came to be that way, because I don’t recall seeing anything about why Adam is quite literally an angel in his true form when everything else is a corrupted, vile, bodily-horrific monster. He seems to be fully integrated into Eve and has had a death pf personality with that… but perhaps in the sequel he doesn’t have to be quite gone and can continue to communicate with her on the Psychic/Astral Plane.
• How does Eve view herself and how does she feel about massacring the Angels who attacked in the True Ending? How does she feel about the citizens of Xion now that she’s no longer an Andro-Eidos? How has becoming a “real Human” affected her psyche? Lily was worried that Eve would become someone she didn’t know… maybe a sequel would be the perfect place to address that.
• More obvious lore told by completing the story events and quests, rather than digging through the documents and whatnot.
• Respectfully, ShiftUp could work on the story and think how they want events to playout all the way through, as there were a few glaring inconsistencies with regard to who (Adam/Raven, for instance) was doing what and why, as well as some other things that just didn’t make sense in the narrative or felt rushed.
• As a way to bring Eve down from being over-powered, Mother Sphere could create a sort of poison to suppress Eve’s powers that could be cured as we go, for standard gameplay progression.

Revamped Save System

Next up is no more important than any other thought, it’s just what I came up with next due to the reality being somewhat vexing.

• More than one save file. This would be useful for if multiple people want to play the game on the same console without their own dedicated account.
• Saving at camps can stay, but if it’s going to be a narrative-driven game with no option to explore the world afterward, a Chapter Select is essential so we can re-visit our favorite parts of the game without having to slog through the parts we don’t like (Space Center turrets, anyone?)

Costumes

We all like costumes… except those of you who played the entire game in Eve’s birthday suit and didn’t realize it took away your shields until after the game was over. But while the reward of clothes is enough for some people, here are some thoughts about how accessorization could be improved in the future:

• Being able to Favorite the outfit(s) we like the most so we don’t have to scroll through a long list to find them. At the same time, being able to Archive outfits we don’t like or never will use.
• A transmog system that we can have stats from one costume but wear another along with the accessories we chose.
• If certain kinds of costumes had dedicated special moves! Now, I’m not saying that there needs to be a unique special move for 74+ costumes… but I am saying it would be cool if each costume type did something cool in addition to the usual Beta or Burst moves. If we didn’t have the Tachy Mode, this feature would be in place of that. For instance: the normal Airborne Squad suits would have the standard Stellar Blade attacks, but the Biker suits could call a motorcycle out of nowhere and do damage to enemies, the Motivation suit could boost stats, the Ocean Maid suit could reel in a huge shark from out of nowhere to damage enemies… the list goes on. How cool would that be?!

Combat

The combat in this game is intricate and very enjoyable. It’s very Souls-like. However, there are some things that could possible make it better (to each their own):

• Different types of combat could be cool. We currently have sword and gunplay… but what about unarmed combat, too? Not necessarily extensive, but Eve and her counterparts seems pretty strong. I wouldn’t mind seeing her make use of those great legs and kick the crap out of enemies as more than just a cool finisher. Could be “equipped” or set, just like the Drone gun.
• Sections where Eve fights with someone of equal skill, but longer than she did with Tachy or Raven. Tachy’s boss fight didn’t live up to the potential it had, and it could have been just as challenging as what we wound up facing with Raven, even if she were corrupted into a Naytiba. If we’re going to be encountering more Angels in the sequel, they shouldn’t be easy to mow down, like in the Good/True Ending. They should be a real challenge.
• I would love combo finishers a QTE’s like in Spider Man/Force Unleashed. One simple button push doesn’t quite scratch that itch, does it?
• Better dodging or combat that can deal with mobs and ganks better than a Beta move that you might not have. The Perfect Dodge is fine, but the half-step dodge isn’t really useful when you’re being mobbed. Beta and Burst deal AOE damage, but the game’s primary fighting mechanic is 1v1. When they toss in mobs of spiders, walking turrets, and the like, it really shows how inefficient it is.

Enemies

• The enemies of the next game can't be just Naytiba. We’re taking the fight to Mother Sphere. She’s had hundreds if not thousands of years to work on her weapons of war, and they can be just as diverse as the array of Naytibas we dealt with in the first game.
• The majority of the enemy types should be Mother Sphere creations designed specifically to take down the new variant of species that Eve now is.
• If we do stay on Earth, I’d love to see new variations of the mutants and possible some more sentient Naytiba-human hybrid bosses.
• Some male Andro-Eidos bosses would be nice. I know that's a bit of a stretch to hope for, given the whole "Amazon Brigade" thing she's got going on, and how all of the people from the colony seem to be one gender only, but if Mother Sphere created the Andro-Eidos, she’s got a few templates for male warriors, I’m sure. It couldn’t hurt. I’d love to see what ShiftUp does with male fanservice characters, since there weren’t many good-looking men in Stellar Blade aside from Adam.

Gameplay/Quality of Life

• More mini games aside from chest puzzles and energy output puzzles. Things you might find in something like Final Fantasy. They don’t have to be extensive or anything, but something aside from fishing would be nice.
• More optional bosses. The world is vast, and the array of bosses could be equally large… but I understand for their first game why they didn’t. Not everything can be Dark Souls or Elden Ring.
• Better, more thought-out side quests. Something other than fetch quests or “go kill this” quests. Maybe quests that enhance your Affinity/relationship with a charactecharacters, or that give you a variety of rewards. Possibly even based on how well you do.
• When fishing, we actually see what kind of fish we’ve hooked before it pops out of the water. More fishing locations would be good… maybe somewhere that we could actually see fish if we go underwater.
• More biome variety other than Wasteland and Desert. I know why we were only seeing dystopian environments and badlands… but it’s about time the world started healing, isn’t it? I mean the space elevator region was more verdant.
• Additional traversal options, like flight or maybe some type of vehicle/mount, like Adam’s bike. A crotch-rocket sort of vehicle wouldn’t be out of place for Eve to use, would it (if she can’t use her wing). It would certainly help if we play as another Angel who can’t fly in the first place.
• Being able to play as more than one character would be nice, so long as their sections are interesting and make sense to play as. Lily could be attacked by Naytiba/Mother Sphere forces and need to hide, like Joker in Mass Effect 2, but could also make use of her skills. A character like Adam could make use of scavenging skills, etc.
• Post-game exploration is a must. Sometimes we don’t want to do all the tedious tasks before we complete the more exciting elements of the game.
• Maps in dungeons so you don’t get turned around or can at least find what it is you’re trying to get to.
• A jukebox feature! The soundtrack for this game is great, and I’m sure the one for the sequel will be, as well. Rather than listening to the calm, quite music at camp, maybe we could listen to our favorite songs from the game there. Or maybe Lily could create a mod for us that would enable us to listen to music on the go and there could be a little idle animation where Eve bobs/jiggles/wiggles as appropriate to the music.

Misc. Things

• A new protagonist would be acceptable to me. ShiftUp specializes in female characters, but I wouldn’t be opposed to a male protagonist.
• More customization over our player character and our friends could be cool. It’s absolutely not necessary, but I wouldn’t mind having the option to model the new male Adam-like character’s face after my own or after characters I think would look great next to Eve. Conversely, I’m sure that female players would love to make the new Lily or Eve character (should either not appear) however they wanted. Race, facial structure, hair, eyes, all of that; a character creator similar to that of Mass Effect Andromeda, or whatever other game does that well.
• A prequel starring Tachy or Raven. Tachy was taken from us too soon, and we need our girl back. Conversely, Raven’s descent into madness could be quite the tale, and we’d see the Naytibas we’re used to seeing.
• We could find a new Arisa model while exploring the world and we could recruit her. If we do, she’d take care of us and our Safehouse as our maid, and quite possibly get into arguments with Lily about keeping things tidy.
• For Raven to be our token evil, comic relief teammate. We must be allowed to fix her!

I am happily married with 3 wonderful kids. After our 3rd, my wife and I agreed, 3 was enough. We felt our family was complete, this was 6+ years ago.
When I got it done, I was smoking weed still as an adult, recreationally. This is important, I live where it is 100% legal.
It was a 1pm appointment on a Thursday. My wife drove me there, a 15 minute drive. I ate a very potent marijuana edible cookie before I left the house. She then left me there, I planned on taking an Uber home. She had to pick up the kids from school.
So I went in. One shocker, they had to shave my balls and surrounding area completely. I wish they told me!!! I would have done it myself the night before. Felt awkward having a female nurse and male doctor doing it with a cheap disposable razor.
Then a few needles to numb the area. Yeah, the needles hurt. Not a good time.
Then they went to work. I felt lots of tugging and pulling. I am wide awake during it.
The doctor and nurse were trying to have a conversation with me, asking me about my job, and sports, etc...
I just wanted them to shut up and get it done.
The weed edible kicked in and I was tripping out. That was a stupid decision!!!!
Finally it's over. I go outside, sit on a bench and waited for my uber. I had a weed vape pen and was smoking away.
Then the nurse walked past me, she was going home for the day. I felt so weird, she just saw my penis and balls and shaved me!!!
She high fived me and said "great job!"
Go away lady!!! Lol...
Uber came, I'm stoned as fuck.
Got home. Laid in bed until dinner time (my wife made a delicious meatloaf) and had ice pack on my crotch.
It was NFL playoffs that weekend. I took off that Friday and Monday after was MLK Day (work holiday for me). So I had 4 days on the couch with Netflix and NFL playoffs with ice packs and sneaking out to my back porch to puff my weed vape all weekend. I was sore for the whole weekend.
By the time Tuesday morning came around, I went back to work (office job, at a desk all day). I felt back to normal.
I did tell one joke during the snip visit. Doctor said "you need to come back after ejaculate 25 times and get tested". ( fill a cup with sperm, get it tested).
I said "25 times? Give me 2 days"
In the end, I am glad I did it. Being married and committed, condoms are just a thing of the past. Sex is such so much better this way. My wife likes it better.
Thanks for reading my rant.
Advice, don't get the vasectomy while stoned on weed.
Save the weed for recovery time.

As the title says I'm currently 29 weeks pregnant with summer coming up its almost swim season and there's almost no female swim suits with actual cloth to cover the crotch and instead it's just a line. My stomachs big enough I can't evenly shave down there so I was wondering if any of you mom's know of any angles to be able to get a clean shave down there so I don't have a patch job and little hairs sticking out everywhere. Sorry if this topic isn't allowed I'm just really struggling with my body image right now and the inability to shave my own vag is just making it worse lol

I’ve just noticed the way she would stare at me sometimes, not in a sinister way but almost sexual? But how she’s six she doesn’t know about that stuff. When I’m changing she would sit infront of me and just blatantly stare, it could be her just being curious about the female body and when she’s going to develop breasts and stuff. She’s asked me about my sanitary pads before and I explained as best I could but when It comes to the changing aspect I would have to ask her to leave the room or just not change at all when she’s around.
Whenever I’m dressed in anything that emphasizes my figure she will imitate the flirting style of men “hey sexy, looking good”, she will say. She’ll blow kisses and hold her crotch and psst just a man catcalling on the streets and sometimes she would just randomly squeeze my ass or breast’s and laugh it off, it makes me so uncomfortable no matter how much I try to establish a boundary between us, I sometimes think I’m just overreacting because she’s young and has no filter and generally shouldn’t really have an interest in these things until she’s in her teenage years.
Maybe it’s just because she sees me flirt with my bf sometimes and the way he flirts back but we’ve never done any heavy petting or kissing in front of her, so how does she know about these things.
Normally it would be the other way around, a younger sibling feeling scared or uncomfortable around an older one because of their actions and words. But that is just how I feel. Not to mention the fact that she’s kinda horrible to our cats. She only cuddles them when she feels like it and throw them away when she’s done with them LITERALLY only to rinse and repeat. A little while earlier I saw her throw the cat off the bed so hard she knew the cat could be hurt from it but didn’t care. I constantly have to be telling her: you can’t hold the cat that way because it hurts them, you can’t throw them around, you can’t mess with their food, and so on she just doesn’t give af.
She also plays really rough like reallly rough, she likes to hit hard and be really aggressive but when the other kids do the same to her she cries victim. She like to order the other kids around and be loud and mean. She’s a kid and I love my sister but she scares me man.
What do you think, anyone has a situation similar to this? should I sit her down sister to sister and a conversation with her about it, will she even know what I mean? I don’t know, I trust my guts always and it’s giving me a bad feeling about her future, I worry for her.
Any advice?

I’ve just noticed the way she would stare at me sometimes, not in a sinister way but almost sexual? But how she’s six she doesn’t know about that stuff. When I’m changing she would sit infront of me and just blatantly stare, it could be her just being curious about the female body and when she’s going to develop breasts and stuff. She’s asked me about my sanitary pads before and I explained as best I could but when It comes to the changing aspect I would have to ask her to leave the room or just not change at all when she’s around.
Whenever I’m dressed in anything that emphasizes my figure she will imitate the flirting style of men “hey sexy, looking good”, she will say. She’ll blow kisses and hold her crotch and psst just a man catcalling on the streets and sometimes she would just randomly squeeze my ass or breast’s and laugh it off, it makes me so uncomfortable no matter how much I try to establish a boundary between us, I sometimes think I’m just overreacting because she’s young and has no filter and generally shouldn’t really have an interest in these things until she’s in her teenage years.
Maybe it’s just because she sees me flirt with my bf sometimes and the way he flirts back but we’ve never done any heavy petting or kissing in front of her, so how does she know about these things.
Normally it would be the other way around, a younger sibling feeling scared or uncomfortable around an older one because of their actions and words. But that is just how I feel. Not to mention the fact that she’s kinda horrible to our cats. She only cuddles them when she feels like it and throw them away when she’s done with them LITERALLY only to rinse and repeat. A little while earlier I saw her throw the cat off the bed so hard she knew the cat could be hurt from it but didn’t care. I constantly have to be telling her: you can’t hold the cat that way because it hurts them, you can’t throw them around, you can’t mess with their food, and so on she just doesn’t give af.
She also plays really rough like reallly rough, she likes to hit hard and be really aggressive but when the other kids do the same to her she cries victim. She like to order the other kids around and be loud and mean. She’s a kid and I love my sister but she scares me man.
What do you think, anyone has a situation similar to this? should I sit her down sister to sister and a conversation with her about it, will she even know what I mean? I don’t know, I trust my guts always and it’s giving me a bad feeling about her future, I worry for her.
Any advice?

My professor called my art 'womens work', so I submitted prints of my V@gina
Back in third year BFA a professor of mine was critiquing a piece of mine when she said that my work had to be viewed through the lense of 'womans work' as I was a female bodied artist working in the existing social structure; my work can never be separate from what I look like. Now, I wasn't out at the time, but as a trans masc non-binary person, this statement really rubbed me the wrong was. Sooooo When the next assignment came along I went to the photo lab and enlisted the help of a prof i I was close to. Over the next week I used a private dark room to print impressions of my crotch (a series of ten prints to be exact) . When the next Crit came I was ready. I put up my prints and confidently stood infront of the class.
Looking her dead in the eye I said. 'So, if I'm destined to be unable to separate my work and my body, then here you go. Here's some prints of my vagina. That women's work enough for you?'
Her face was completely blank, and honestly she didn't react mutch, but my class laughed and clapped. And in the end I got a good mark, so I count that as a win.
Anyways. Might have been embarrassing and petty, but I don't regret it for a second!

The question may sound funny but seriously. Self defense techniques are almost always about women defending themselves against men. As a man i really don't know how i'd defend myself against a female attacker, a woman who really wanted to hurt me, and kept going for my crotch non-stop for example. Like what could i do? How can i stop her?
If i am in danger where should i hit the woman? Is it possible to bring a female attacker down with one hit, as most male attackers are down with one hit to the crotch? I think a knee or punch to her stomach could bring her down. Is it possible to one-shot a female attacker?

I am NOT the Original Poster. That is u/Exciting-Turnip7126. She posted in MarkNarrations and TrueOffMyChest.
Thanks to u/Literally_Taken for finding this and recommending it.

Read the trigger warnings. A reminder to not comment on Original Posts. See rule 7.

Trigger Warning: graphic descriptions of child abuse; infidelity; verbal abuse; financial abuse;
Mood Spoiler: surprisingly happy ending
Background Post: January 21, 2024
Editor's note: This post is tangentially related to the main post as it discusses some of OOP's background.
I feel so lost. I don't know what to do and I feel sick. I (41F) have been no contact my with my mother for the past 11 years following years of physical, financial, and emotional abuse as well as years of parentification.
To give everyone an idea, my mother started abusing me physically and emotionally from the age of 6 , which is when we both moved out of the extended family home. I never knew my father so until I was 6 I grew up in a home with my mother, her 3 siblings and her parents (my grandparents).
Her physical abuse consisted of pinching and twisting until my skin blistered or tore. Grabbing me by the arm or leg so hard she'd leave a bruise in the shape of her hand. Throwing things at me like drinking glasses. A few times I couldn't go to school because the bruises were in places that were visible.
Her emotional abuse was just as bad. Telling me she'd throw me outside and lock the door so the boogeyman would take me if I didn't do exactly what she said. This was all when I was under the age of 10.
The parentification started when I was 11 when my first half brother was born. He was my sole responsibility. Same when my second half brother was born when I was 18.
The financial abuse started when I was 12 when I had my first tutoring job. She's take my money to buy alcohol. I would hide my money so I could buy food for me and brother or my cat since she'd forget and just say to "eat whatever".
Financially, she wrecked my credit. I lent her my credit card when I was 21 (stupid I know) to help her with her business. She said, as my mother, I owed it to her. Back then I was still in the mindset I was taught growing up. That family was what was most important. Now I know better and have worked hard for years to build my credit back up.
Back to my dilemma. We (me and my bf 45M) have been invited to a friend's wedding. There's a chance my mother may be there.
What makes me anxious is we have a 9.5 month old baby girl. Yes I had my baby late. There's a long tradition of the women in my family being abusive. I didn't want children for the longest time. I don't regret having my daughter. She's my world and I love her more than anything and I know my mother would demand to see her if given the chance. The thought of my mother seeing her and just seeing my mother in general makes me feel sick with anxiety and on the verge of sobbing.
These emotions come up because I think of my daughter being exposed to her and I can do is cry.
On the other hand I want to go to the wedding. My friends who are getting married know my history with my mother. I have a feeling they'd invite her to be polite.
How can I get through this?
Relevant Comments:
Commenter: I'm sorry you had to deal with all that. While I can't tell friends who they should invite to their wedding, I would think good friends would be aware of the friction. I'd certainly ask if my mother had been invited. If they answer yes, then I would skip the wedding. If your mother is still drinking and abusive, there's no way I'd risk running into her again. Just not worth it.

OOP: Thank you. Exactly. I don't want to be that person who dictates who they can/can't invite.
That's a good idea. I will ask if she was invited/ RSVPed yes. She drinks less now. Her heavy drinking resulted in her getting type 2 diabetes. Even with less alcohol, she apparently is still very manipulative and abusive according to my youngest half brother.

Commenter: Wishing you luck. Don’t blame you at all! My mother’s father (grandfather is too familial for him) was a narcissist, abuser too. Had to control every and all situations. Refused to give him any leeway and never spoke to him for the last 10 or so years of his life. If I had kids, I would not have allowed him to be apart of their lives either. There is no need to have another generation subjected to the vitriol and physical violence. Go to the party, support your brother. You don’t have to say a word to her. Make Her look stupid by ignoring her.

OOP: Thank you so much for your comment! I'm so sorry you had to go through that too and you're absolutely right when you said
"There is no need to have another generation subjected to the vitriol and physical violence."
My mother is the way she is because of her mother who was so much worse. That's why I had my daughter later in life. I was child Free out of fear of being like them but my step-dad and boyfriend both told me the same thing: I know how not to parent.

Mini update (Same Post, Next Day)
I don't know if this is how we update but I'm going to do it anyway lol. Thank you to everyone who commented and you all had the same advice. So I contacted the bride last night. She wrote me back this morning. She did not invite my mother. She knows a little bit of my history with my mother and said she rarely speaks to her. She wants me and my step-father there. He too would not want my mother there (he went through a lot of abuse too at my mother's hand). So my friend wanted us to have a good time and is not inviting my mother.
Thank you all again so very much for reading my post. I was so afraid of being that person who causes drama over who is/isn't invited and didn't want to cause my friend stress that I started imagining all possible scenarios of what could happen if she was that and spiraled into an emotional crying mess.
After all your comments, some ginger ale a hug from my husband and baby, I was able to get some sleep.
Thank you all again very much
Original Post: April 16, 2024 (4 months later)
Title: I had to end my 11 yr NC with my mother and her siblings for a family event. I will see her for the first time this Saturday. I'm overthinking everything...
I (41F) went NC with my entitled narcissistic mother and her siblings 11 years ago after years of physical, emotional and financial abuse as well as years of parentification starting when I was 11 yrs old. None of her siblings said or did anything. They just looked the other way and told me I was too emotional and exaggerate everything.
My brother (30M) and his girlfriend (22F) are having a baby shower for their first baby this Saturday, my mother is organizing it and sent out invites and created a Facebook event. This is why I went stopped my NC, so I could see the event and mark myself as going.
I refuse to let a POS human being prevent me from being there for brother and his girlfriend, even if that person is my mother. I'm not going to lie, I spiralled when I first saw my mother's invite. All the years of abuse, days of missed elementary school because the bruises were in visible places, all came back. My step-dad (54M) talked me down and we're going together. He was abused by her just as bad as I was, if not worse.
My mother is organizing the baby shower because my brother is close with her. Yes he knows what she did but thinks I should just forgive and forget, which I have multiple times but that never stopped the abuse.
My biggest concern is my boyfriend and I have a child (1F) and when my brother found out, he started again with how I should forgive and forget. I told him I don't expect him to not tell my mother about my child but to respect that she will not be in my child's life. Since my daughter was born there were some not so subtle attempts from her to like pictures of my daughter. She even sent me a friend request once, which I deleted right away. She's the jealous vindictive type so it wouldn't surprise me if she pressured my brother to get his girlfriend pregnant so she'd have a grand-child too (She's jealous of my step-dad for being a grand dad).
For those wondering why I didn't block her, I did but unblocked every now and then because I was paranoid she'd try something with grand-parents rights, even though I know she doesn't have a leg to stand on for that or try to get sympathy for not seeing my daughter. This still bothers me to this day sometimes. The nightmares and hormones have me paralyzed in fear. All this to say my mother would be the type of person to post about this on social media and if she does, I want to be able to get screenshots of it and address it right away because she's a master manipulator.
I decided to take a big step and started therapy for the first time last week. Therapy was always something ridiculed and seen as something for weak people by my family. My boyfriend (44M) agreed with the therapy and even asked me how I felt afterwards. He's my rock and my everything. We've been together for 20 years. For those wondering, why we aren't married because we don't really don't care. We love each other and for us that's enough. Therapy helped a lot. I have another session this week, two days before I see her again. My therapist called me brave, which honestly surprised me. I never thought of myself as being brave.
Anyway, I'll update after the baby shower.
Relevant Comments:
Commenter: Your brother deems his deference for your mother above the abuse thar he knows you suffered. However much you care for him, your feelings are secondary as far as he's concerned... Why stress? Spend the day with someone who loves you.

OOP: thank you for your comment. I do agree with you that my feelings are completely secondary to him. Unfortunately, he's very much like her personality wise but his girlfriend is a gem and keeps him level headed (even he admits its lol). My dad and I have an agreement that if either of us are uncomfortable we'll leave right away. We're going as each other's support. Plus I worked really hard on a crocheted baby blanket, hats and mitts lol.

Why are you putting yourself in this situation?

Thank you so much for your concern. Yes it's going to be stressful but after having lost my entire family when going NC, I went a few years with no contact with anyone, including my step-dad and brothers. She had turned everyone against me which destroyed me. I felt so abandoned. Once her lies, cheating and abuse were exposed is when my step-dad and one of my two brothers came back in my life. The one brother who came back (23M) isn't the one who's baby shower I'm going to (30M). Yes there's a massive age difference between us (I'm 41F). I raised the two of them alone. I felt like I had lost everything when they went NC. Them coming back felt like a second chance. Brother 30M came back a few years after. He's very easily manipulated and has the same kind of personality as my mother: vain, narcissistic and selfish but he's a watered down version without the abuse.
Basically I'm putting myself in this situation for my second chance little family I was able to form after the fallout. Seems ridiculous but I'd feel terrible to not try.

Commenter: I too, think it is a bad idea. I cannot imagine spending time around someone that was abusive to me for years just to appease my brother who didn't even care that I was abused, still maintains a close relationship with my abuser and on top of it has the audacity to tell me to forgive and forget. That part is throwing me. I cannot for the life of me imagine my mom hurting my sister who I love, yet still wanting to be cool with my mom, my mom would be dead to me. And I get Op is fond of her brother's gf but like someone else suggested take her out to lunch or do something else nice with her, like a spa day and give her the gift.

OOP: As much as I would love to do all the above, it's really hard with how far my brother and his girlfriend live and their job. They both work really long shifts. I know it's confusing and even I wonder sometimes, especially that he plays off my trauma like I'm exaggerating, but the best way I can put it is in a way we have a way to start over. After the year did abuse, not just to me but my step-dad also, we want to try and make our little family of chosen people work. We never got a chance to do that, ever. I would have to do a post by itself about my family and all the bullshit that lead to the NC. That would be a massive post in itself. So much to unpack but therapy is helping.
Lastly, I was happy to hear my brother's girlfriend put her foot down with certain things with my mother. My brother will get to see our mother's real personality with his baby. I hope he steps up for his girlfriend and their baby.

Commenter: It's ok to prioritize your self and your family. You cannot thrive and be bountiful if you don't. If not going is best for you. That is ok. What is best for you is ok. It took me a long time to say that! It's not selfish to do what's best for you and your LO (Editor's note- little one)

OOP: I've really been leveraging "No" as a full sentence and have been using that as a filter for people I want to keep in my life. If people can't respect me when I say no, then what else are they going to disrespect me on.
At first I did not want to go. I had a full blown crying, shaking, dry heaving meltdown. After composing myself, I called my dad and he talked me through it and said he was going. He was heavily abused too so I know it's just as hard for him. That's why we're going as each other's support. As for my daughter, she's staying home with my boyfriend having a daddy daughter day.

Commenter: Eh, I would suggest just using her first name, not "mother." Deny the relationship. Twist that knife.

OOP: I have. I use mother here because I've used "egg donor" in the past and people were super confused. Even to my step-dad and brothers I call her by her first name.

Commenter: I'm a cross stitcher and knitter, I feel your pain. (Editor's note- OOP commented at one point that she had a handmade gift for the new baby) As for the shower, have you considered that by going you are letting her win? She gets to show everyone how mean you are to her, she gets to create drama and blame it on you. Think on this, a narcissist thrives on attention any attention, even bad, is a balm to their soul.
She will do everything in her power to make you look bad. There is no way to win, except by ignoring her existence.

OOP: Thank you! I have considered that side too. I'm going by my dad's experience. He had to see her a month ago or so for the gender reveal and he said she looked resigned. Almost emotionless. She's already painted me in a bad light to the entire family (her sisters, her brother and their kids) who will also be there by the way. But they're all so non-confrontational and fake.
I know my mother is throwing the baby shower for exactly that reason. She wants attention. My dad and I agreed to leave right away if either of us feels uncomfortable.

Commenter: You want to be there for a grown ass man who doesn’t care about you being abused. Why do you still care about him? When has he ever cared about you??

OOP: Thank you for your comment. We used to be close a long ago. We've gotten a lot better in the past 2 years. He was really badly manipulated by my mother for many years. He took for granted that what she was telling him was true because she's our mother and she wouldn't lie, which is so dumb, I know. He's learning that more and more. I think he's seeing it more now that she keeps trying to ask him for money, like I warned him she would.

Commenter: Brother will change his mind about mother once she starts abusing his kid. These kinds of things don't just stop. Good luck to you!

OOP: Thank you! I really hope it doesn't come to that but it wouldn't surprise me. I think it'll be more my brother's girlfriend putting her foot down with my mother's involvement (she'll probably try to involve herself in everything). My brother will be forced to choose and in general does what his girlfriend says since she's the most down to earth, realistic and normal out of the two. She keeps him level, his words exactly.

Commenter: You DON’T have to go. Just because your brother has poor taste in people doesn’t mean you have to be around your abuser. You can see him other times.

OOP: Thank you for your comment. I know I don't. I'm choosing to go. I feel like I'm letting my mother get under my skin and win by not going and that makes me even angrier. That's where I'm at at the moment.

Editor's note: All edits take place on the same post.
EDIT: I'm sorry if I'm, confusing anyone by saying "my dad" when referring to my step-dad. To me he is my dad. He and I have gone through hell and back together in regards to my mom. Our experience has brought us closer than ever.
EDIT 2: I am NOT bringing my daughter. She's staying home and having a daddy daughter day with my boyfriend.
EDIT 3: April 16 or 17, 2024 (Same day/day after)
Holy cow I did not expect this many comments! Thank you all so much! You have no idea how much I appreciate it. That's what I love at MarkNarrations. I love this sub. It's such a tightly knit community. My daughter knows the sound of his voice now and comes running to see when I play his videos on my tablet lol.
One thing I want to tell everyone, you don't need to worry about me breaking down, crying, or having a meltdown. I'm at a point in my life where I don't get sad. I get angry and my worry is if she tries anything, my step-dad will have to jump him and pull me back. And I have no problems calling her out on her abuse. Many years ago she made him nearly homeless where he only had enough money to pay his mortgage but had to go to the food bank for food. He didn't tell me because he knew I probably would have done something I'd regret later. He only told me after the fact and I cried tears of anger and disbelief at being related to someone so vile. When I get overwhelmed I cry, which I find so embarrassing.
I am seeing therapist this Thursday, two days before the shower and I'm really looking forward to it. I will keep you all updated. Thank you all again so much. I really love this sub <3
EDIT 4: April 18, 2024 (two days later)
Thank you all again so much for all the love and support. I'm sorry I didn't clarify this before. I have 2 brothers 30M and 23M. My brothers are my half-brothers (We share the same mother. Their father is my step-dad). Just like how I call my step-dad "dad", I call my half-brothers, "brothers".All the comments, advise and suggestions have been amazing and some really really funny. I'm feeling so much better after reading all the support and am started to look forward to the baby shower, especially that my step-dad texted me saying he met my mother's husband this week and that the man's face was priceless after my step-dad introduced himself to him. I asked for more details but he said we'll talk about it on the drive over.
After that, I wanted to give you all a full scope of who my mother is and what kind of a piece of shit human being she really is. I put it in point form instead of a giant block of text:

• Her physical abuse started at 6-7 years old. It was pinching and twisting until my skin tore. Grabbing me by the arm or leg so hard she'd leave hand shaped bruises. Slapping me across the face so hard, I'd have the imprint of her hand on my face. Throwing objects at me. She almost broke my orbital bone when I was 8 after throwing a glass at my face after I said a swear word in public for the first time. A few times I couldn't go to school because the bruises were in visible places.
• Telling me she'd throw me outside and lock the door so the boogeyman would take me if I didn't do exactly what she said. This was all when I was under the age of 10.
• The parentification started when I was 11 when my first brother was born. He was my sole responsibility. Same when my second brother was born when I was 18.
• The financial abuse started when I was 12 when I had my first job tutoring the neighbour's son. She'd take my money to buy alcohol. I would hide my money so I could buy food for me and brother or my cat since she'd forget and just say to "eat whatever".
• Financially speaking, she wrecked my credit. I lent her my credit card when I was 21 (stupid I know) to help her with her business. She said, as my mother, I owed it to her. Back then I was still in the mindset I was taught growing up. That family was what was most important. Now I know better and have worked hard for years to build my credit back up.
• She tried to get back in contact with me 8 years ago by wishing me happy birthday on facebook under my brother's comment (they're facebook friends). This was 2 weeks after we were contacted about inheritance following my grandfather's death a few months before. She hadn't contacted me for anything the 3 years previous. So gross, especially since she inherited way more than I or my brothers did.
• As for my step-dad - she cheated on him for 6 years with some guy she met down in the Caribbean. So not only is she abusive, she's also a cheating piece of shit. She would fly out down there 6 to 7 times a year by herself for her "me" time and would lose it when my step-dad asked to join her. All the money he gave her to pay the mortgage, hydro, and other utilities, she'd send to her boy toy, now her husband. My step-dad almost lost his house and she ruined his credit too by racking up credit card and cell phone bills. Her credit was so bad, she couldn't get a phone. I had had enough and confronted her. They split up not long after and that's when all my mother's lies and manipulation came to light.
• They owned a company together that my mother's brother bought from them. My step-dad and mom had each taken out a loan with the bank to start the company together and were still making payments to it after they split. My step-dad paid his loan off first and that made my mother so angry and jealous she had her brother help her take my step-dad to court to sue him and have him pay her loan. She won. He had to go to the food bank for a while because he couldn't afford anything else but the mortgage and hydro.

I have therapy this afternoon and can't wait. I felt so much better last week after just 1 session. You all have made me feel so much stronger and confident. Let me know if you have any questions or need clarification on anything I wrote above.
Update (Same Post): April 20, 2024 (4 days from OG post)
UPDATE! Today was the baby shower and omg! I'm putting everything in point form because there's a lot to update you all on. I'm typing from my cellphone as I'm rocking my daughter to sleep. I missed her so much today.
1 - my dad invited his female best friend to come with us to the baby shower. We'll call her Sally. She's a wonderful woman with a big heart and very protective of my dad, especially since she knows my mother fairly well and works at the same place as her. The first time she and I met we were talking about each other's work and she was going on about this awful co-worker who was so bossy, blamed everyone else for her mistakes and took the praise for other people's work. Turns out it was my mother lol. Basically my mother was not happy Sally was coming.
2 - Both my dad and Sally said my mother texted them to say the baby shower started at 1:30. It didn't. The invite clearly said 1pm. I told them we're getting there for 1pm and was 99% sure my mother was trying to make them look bad out of jealousy. I was right. We arrived at 12:55 pm and my mother's deer in the headlights look on her face said it all.
Guys I stayed composed. I did it! My hands were shaking but I kept them in my pockets. Sally saw this and squeezed my arm.
My mother came out of her daze and came over "oh OP! You came!? It's nice to see you!"
I smirked at her obvious lie and discomfort at being caught, said "Nice to see you too. Where do I put my gift?" She took my gift and put it on the table with the other gifts.
3 - My mother's two siblings showed up with their daughters. One sister greeted me like an acquaintance, which I appreciated. The other pretended I wasn't even there.
4 - my dad, Sally and I sat at a table with one of my dad's former work buddies. We had a blast. My mother was not impressed. Shooting us dirty looks. So much so my dad's friend turned to me and said "uh oh. I think we might need to keep it down". Everyone else was talking loudly, we weren't the only ones. She just didn't like that we were having fun.Me "forget her. She always looks like that." My dad spit out his drink laughing. I didn't say it loud enough for her to hear (at least I don't think so and didn't care in the moment to be honest) but we did get more dirty looks lol.
4 - my mother whipped out a headset with a microphone hooked to a tiny speaker that she hooked to the back of her pants, like she was some sort of talk show host. I shit you not. I didn't notice until my dad said "what the fuck..." I looked over and couldn't help but laugh. Did I mention my mother thrives on being the center of attention, even at her own son's baby shower.
5 - she had us play games and whatnot which was fun. I participated and had fun, until my mother handed diapers with melted chocolate bars on them and gave them out to my two brothers my dad and another guy at the shower. She wanted them to taste what was in the diaper and guess the chocolate bar. The way the chocolate was melted you could tell some of the crotch of the diaper had turned gelatinous (which is what it's supposed to do when a baby pees. I doubt that gel is for human consumption). Me in my now very comfortable seat at the shower blurted "that's disgusting". I got a few responses agreeing with " uh yeah... That's gross".
6 - then there was the bottle drinking game. My mother dropped the bottle full of grape juice in front of my dad like he was a bug she was trying to squish with the bottle. It was so obvious that the girl at the table next to us tapped my shoulder and asked why "the woman with the microphone just pitched the bottle to the poor guy in the blue shirt". I told her the guy was my dad and the woman was his ex, my mother. The girl apologized profusely. I told her not to, that she said nothing wrong and that my mother was just like that.
7 - my dad and I went out for supper afterwards and what I found out over guys... OMG! Turns out my mother was upset with my dad because she asked my other brother (not the one having the baby shower) to try and put in a good word for her to my dad because she wanted to get back together with him and he just laughed. He didn't know what else to say. Need I remind you all that she's currently married to the man she cheated on my dad with for 6 years!
She married and sponsored this man from the Caribbeans to come to Canada. According to my brother, this poor man is treated like a tenant and is forced to live in her basement. WTF
My dad laughed when he saw my face and told me not to worry, that there's no way in hell he would ever consider getting back with her. I told him good because I'd have to smack some sense into him if he did.
He's 99% positive she's trying to get back with my dad to try and reconcile with me to have access to my daughter. He said he'd rather die than let that happen.
So there you have it. What a shit show, but it was a fun shit show that I did not expect in the least. Thank you all again for all your comments and support. It was so very appreciated.
Relevant Comment:
Commenter: You handled that well. Now just go back to pretending she doesn’t exist. She doesn’t deserve anything different. The best revenge is living well.

OOP: That's exactly the plan! Thank you again for your comments.

​

I'm assuming this has something to do with my scent being the strongest there? She also has this obsession with sleeping on my crotch, for example if I'm laying down and put her on my chest, she'll instantly jump on my crotch and snuggle there, her favorite places to sleep are my armpit and my crotch 😭😭😭
She's almost a year old, female, spayed. She's only attached to me and doesn't even notice other people that much.
I'm just trying to understand her behavior better

Breston came inside and a thick fog of lingering smoke whipped by his head out into the icy chill of the New York City winter he’d just left behind. The door slammed through the force of an incoming gust and Breston shivered as a conglomerate of weary eyes turned to meet his reddened, eager face. The patrons of the bar were hardly the fresh meat he’d been hoping to encounter in a shithole like that. The collective weathered faces, likely habitual fixtures of the place, turned back to their drinks and their dull, mumbled conversations as Breston made himself at home on a stool at the far end of the bar, ordering a J&B on the rocks. Breston reached into his coat pocket and retrieved a new cigarette, lighting it and inhaling deeply. The smoke escaped him, and as it dispersed across the room he noticed the only remotely fuckable woman there as she eyed him with intrigue from the other side of the bar. Breston clutched up his drink, drained it, and moved in for the kill.
“Got a light?” She asked, seductively, after he had closed the distance having brushed his way through the decaying bodies of the scant Tuesday night crowd.
“No,” Breston replied smoothly, “But I have an eight-point-five inch long penis.”
Her bleach-blond bangs ruffled in excitement, the way a cat’s fuzzy face might if you were to hold a fishy treat up to it. There was only one kind of pussy that Breston was interested in, and only one type of fishy treat.
“Is that right?” The pussy purred, her blue green-flecked eyes brightening. “You wouldn’t lie to a lady now, would you?”
Breston felt his four-point-eight inch long member stiffen in his jeans and he readjusted his posture to conceal it.
“How about that light?” Breston murmured sensually, offering up his burning tip for the lady’s smoke.
“My, my,” She said, the words passing her lips in slow rolls of erotic delight. Pouting them around the slender filter, she moved in closer to Breston, taking her sweet time before finally allowing the cigarette to burn. “what a gentleman…”
“How old are you, by the way?” Breston interjected flirtily, “Like thirty, or something?”
“I’m twenty-eight…”
“Good enough,” Breston didn’t usually bang out grandmas, but in a drought like the one plaguing him, he knew it best to seek out any port possible to wait out the storm of pussilessness until the opportunity for a half-decent fuck with a youthful lay presented itself like that sword in the stone, or whatever the fuck it was. The thought occurred to Breston as if a crotch lightbulb had lit up around his midsection: Perhaps she has a younger, hotter roommate... “Your place or mine? I have to warn you, though, my shitter is all backed up.”
“I… guess… we could go back to my-” The pussy stammered.
“Great, Let’s go.” Breston interrupted, sexily.
“Aren’t you at least going to buy me a drink first?” The pussy pleaded, motioning towards the disinterested bartender presumably getting ready to close up.
“Sure, we can stop at a liquor store on the way and grab some forties. If we move fast, we can make it before they stop selling booze. Come on, hurry!” Said Breston, throwing up an arm in the direction of the door like some mad conductor in the throes of a beautiful symphonic din.
And so Breston and the cheap night-time cooze bounded out into the darkness from whence they’d came, moving swiftly, lest the hour evade them and Breston be forced to grunt atop the relatively sub-5 geriatric female in the midst of returning accursed sobriety. An outcome which, he knew, simply wasn’t an option.

This is a trimmed down version of a previous post which I deleted. I also previously posted this on TwoXChromosomes. Bolded parts are what I think are most important.
TL:DR: I came out to a cisgender pansexual girl, got close to her, she was extremely touchy and made me feel uncomfortable, I asked for boundaries, then she reported me to the police for stalking and harassment.
So there was this cisgender woman, who I'll call "Margaret." We are both currently law students. She was my housemate.
She came out to me as pansexual. I came out to her as transgender female. We became pretty good friends and bonded through our LGBTQ identities. Margaret told me about things regarding her struggles with being pansexual, while I told her a number of things about my experiences being trans.
I told her is my intense discomfort in my body and my resulting issues with physical intimacy. Putting it in the simplest way I think I can, physical intimacy makes my discomfort in my body more acute because it makes me most conscious of the incongruity between how I conceive of my body and my actual body. For me, relationships are weird. I can only really imagine myself with men but only if I transitioned. With women, it was unwise because it would be difficult for me to determine if what I was feeling was attraction or gender envy. I did not want to be in a relationship with that kind of confusion.
Margaret was kind to me. She was rather affirming, and she helped me explore some aspects of that identity. She, for example, painted my nails and gave me "womaning" tips. I was going through a particularly difficult time with my gender dysphoria, believing that I would be grotesque if I were to transition.
Unfortunately, I developed feelings for her. There were other things going on in my life that made things difficult. In mid-October 2022, I told Margaret I had feelings for her and told her to be "careful" with me because I was in a vulnerable emotional state. Her response confused me, she took my hands and pulled me closer to her and said I couldn't say that to her. I made it clear to her that I had no interest in pursuing whatever I was feeling for the reasons stated above.
Margaret is a touchy person. She, for example, solicited me for hugs and would grab my hands without asking. But it seemed she did that with a lot of people. However, after I told her I had feelings for her, she also did stuff like laying her head on my crotch or thighs. Several times, she sat on my lap. I wasn't sure why she was doing it, especially after telling her how stuff like that made me feel uncomfortable.
She sent my dysphoria into overdrive.
I questioned the legitimacy of my transgender identity, thinking, for example, that perhaps I lulled her into a false sense of security because I concealed my "perversions" by calling myself trans. I wondered if physical intimacy made me uncomfortable, why didn't I protest? My therapist had to talk me down on this by telling me about fight, flight, or freeze responses. I froze.
Margaret also once made a pedophile joke about me in early November 2022, when I shared with her I liked feeling like a "mother" to my grade school-aged students when I was teaching in Korea. She said it sounded like I "wanted to fuck the kids." Call it stupid but being "motherly" is something meaningful to my gender identity, whatever it is. I felt I would be an ugly woman. That motherly part of me was the last refuge for my gender identity. Margaret knew that. Her remark blew it apart and sent me to the worst period of suicidal ideation in my life.
In short, whether she was conscious of it or not, Margaret was having a terrible effect on me.
I figured for the sake of my mental health, I needed boundaries with her. Over our winterbreak, 2022/2023, I stopped texting her. When I came back, I started avoiding her. Eventually, after a week, I felt it was unfair to her to leave my behavior unexplained. I told her again that I still had feelings for her, but it was a "dreadful" feeling. It confused me. I did not want her to touch me and there may be days when I would completely avoid her. I told her the previous semester was the most difficult time of my life and the most I struggled with my gender identity, and that I did not want to go back there. I needed to take care of myself. While I did not draw a direct line between my gender identity issues and her, she caught on and said it wasn't fair that I would pin all my gender identity issues on her. Ultimately, she said she was fine with the boundaries.
I thought things were fine.
Since Margaret's pedophile joke in November, I had been aggressively coming out to some of my family and closest friends to affirm my gender identity. I found affirmation in their love and acceptance, and they even complimented me when I showed pictures of me presenting femininely. The day after I set boundaries with Margaret, I took the next step of taking photos of myself with a feminizing filter. The pictures filled me with a sense of purpose. "Transition goals," as they say in the trans community. The pictures didn't even change my face all that much. Maybe the filter changed the sculpture of my jaw, cleared my complexion, and gave me the hair I would love to wear. But that's it. My nose was my nose. My lips were my lips. And my eyes, the only part of my face I liked, were my eyes. The pictures were of me as I wanted to be. I had never felt a joy so profound.
I wanted to show the pictures to Margaret, but she harshly brushed me off. I was hurt, but I thought it was fair. I thought I was a terrible friend to her for setting the boundaries I did, and she was not obligated to be a friend to me. This was the last contact I ever had with her.
A couple of days later, I learned that she went to the police. She said that I was suicidal because of my gender dysphoria and was going to commit an unspeakable act. She also accused me of stalking and harassment. She claimed that I was passive-aggressive and would "completely snap." She said I had a gun and feared for her life.
My landlord had a history of saying… unkind things about transgender people generally. He did not know I was trans. Margaret's actions ended up outing me to the landlord. The landlord evicted me. Without me signing a release of my leasing agreement, he took my keys and changed the locks. So, I ended up having to move out in the middle of the semester.
There's a lot more to this. But that's the gist of it. But my main point in writing all this and sharing it here is this:
I have never felt more violated in my life. For a long time, I had blamed myself for "allowing" Margaret to touch me in ways that quite literally made me want to kill myself. I thought that maybe she just "forgot" about all the things I told her about my problems with intimate touching. But I cannot take it as coincidence that less than a week after I told her to stop touching me, she went to the police and accused me of the things she did. Now, more than ever, I have an aversion and fear of physical intimacy.
It has been more than a year since all that happened, and I still need help processing it. I spoke about this with mentors and my therapist and psychiatrist, all women. I am out as transgender to all of them. They all said the same thing to me: welcome to being a woman. What I was feeling—that my body was not my own, that it was violated—this is something *all* women experience. I suppose in some sick way, my feeling of violation is the most gender-affirming experience in my life.
I am on the edge of graduation and thinking of filing a Title IX complaint because I cannot find peace with what she did. But I wonder if that is wise. Knowing Margaret, I know she will likely file a countercomplaint, recruit some people to lie for her, and make me seem like the villain. Additionally, I already took this to the law school, but they already washed their hands of this with the investigator saying they were she was just "duty-bound" to go to the police to get me a wellness check which I never received (and which was never mentioned in the police report), completely ignoring the stalking and harassment allegations (which was mentioned in the police report).
What makes this worse is how she, an LGBTQ person, blatantly weaponized my status as a transgender person by outing me to my landlord, while also using it as a shield to cover up her clearly malicious actions.
So, I don't know. I would like to know anyone's thoughts on all this, not just the title IX thing, but everything... feeling violated, wanting acknowledgment or justice, whatever, peace from it, etc. I know sitting on my lap, grazing my crotch, etc. isn't as terrible as what many women experience. Still, considering everything else, including Margaret's course of action, I just feel... defiled.