Current Residence: here, unfortunately
Personal Quote: "Call it.... friendo."
Therapy-Does your family have a physician whom you see regularly?Therapy by Tassadar723
- What is his or her name?
-A Dr. Sahal. He’s Indian.
-Do you like seeing him?
-I do not.
-Do you visit him regularly?
-Not if I can help it.
-What about him do you find unfavorable?
-Oh don’t mistake me; my disdain is for doctoring in general... I dislike being poked and prodded. Sahal’s a good enough chap.
-I bear a special hatred for all things sharp and metallic, needles in particular.
-I understand that is a common phobia, if you will. The one of needles.
-You said all things sharp and metallic?
-How do you cut cheese?
-I don’t. I grate it.
-You grate it?
-You mean you hold steady a block of Havarti in one hand and a cheese grater in the other and you grate the cheese, then eat the grated pile?
-There you have it.
-May I speak plainly Stuart?
-I thought I was supposed to do that? But you may if you wish.
-You don’t talk like any other fifteen ye
In its ungloryBoyIn its unglory by Tassadar723
Lain prone beneath him, he sees your eyes unfocused and glassy, up to the ceiling past his face... Is it another boy's face? Is his own so truly common? Where is the Someone you'd much rather do this primal, sticky thing with? What does he look like? Of what manner is his speech? He knows you've said you're hot for guys with accents, so he tried that last time remember? He tried being your own Hugh Jackman during this act of the play, and you looked at him as one flawed, a pitying concern in your gaze: that disdain of mother to child who just can't tie his own shoes correctly. But he tried for you, love; he tried to excite you.
And as he goes in and out of you, pumping with his instinctual violence into your most private recess he wonders how you can do this at all; how girls any age can allow themselves this level of abandon. Don't you feel invaded, love? Don't you feel violated? Can you really want this?... He thinks of children, little girls all light and laughter and perfect te
In Thorns Below On a mountain crag, I quested for the summit.In Thorns Below by Tassadar723
Vast lands laid before me, looking past the edge where the path did drop off. Desperately hilly, as though the earth over eons sprouted lush green pox, nervous to live in shadow of
such a peak.
Farther up the path nearing the top, a figure barred my trek, distant at a stone's throw... A tall boy of plain dress watched the sky; his toes rather hugged the edge. The plunge before him invited certain death, in thorns below.
A storm approached.
I came on, fleet of foot, just as the nimbus did unfurl its fury. The boy began to shout; yell; rage against a sable sky. His untamed beard leaked unfettered, from gale force of rain. He teetered.
I implored him step away with me to a lower point; to shelter; to safety. He threw off my hand.
Retreating back amid the Thundergods' power I turned briskly to c