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Old 12-11-2009, 03:29 PM
supperrfreek supperrfreek is offline
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Default The Much Awaited Story of My Life

Warning: this is the unadulterated story of my life. It is indecent and shameful. Read it if you dare. If you are easily offended, you should get out now.

The Early Years

My childhood has proven to me that the past affects the present infinitely more than the future does. I'm now in possession of several items that were used as "evidence" during my biological parent's trial. One is a record book, there are several pictures (none of which will be posted), and some papers (which may not be posted).

My life started in a tiny town in New England, to be more specific, in Alton, New Hampshire. I was delivered in by a midwife (this is an incredible rarity) to a mother of about twenty years, father was about forty five at the time. I was not given a name at birth.

Now, I have to tell you all the truth before I continue: I've been masquerading as a man on the internet for as long as I've been using it. I'm a young woman who is 18 years old at the moment. I don't know why I was so scared to say that. I have straight, dark brown hair and brown eyes, they sharply contrast the pallor of my skin.

Our house was large, and isolated: it sat in the middle of the woods far from any major roads or even the nearest town. I wasn't really allowed outside when I was young, and, even when I was, I never left the estate. Therefore, I didn't meet any other children. It was a lonely existence.

At the age of four, my education started. It had been determined by my biological parents that I was to be schooled at home (by nobody other than they). I was taught how I was to look and act (I will get into the rules later), reading, writing, and math: history and science were left out. They had the time to do this because neither worked (they were from an "old money" family). I was raised to be obedient and docile.

The rules were simple. I was not allowed to cover my body, I was not allowed to sit on furniture, my hair was always to be kept in a pony tail, I was not allowed to speak unless spoken to (this eventually changed to all noise being forbidden), I had to genuflect frequently, and I was not allowed to look either of my parents in the eye. I was forbidden to use all but the most formal English. Most importantly, I was not allowed to show emotion. When I failed to comply with these rules I was made to regret it.

My diet consisted of table scraps and dog food. I ate out of a bowl like an animal. I slept on the floor.

At five I was allowed to use one piece of furniture: a piano bench. I was taught how to play the piano. I was frequently asked to do "recitals" naked, "audience members" (who were around the house at least twice a week) were allowed to walk up and touch me, again, I was not allowed to respond.

At the age of six, mother and father started to take me to the orgies they held on a regular schedule in the parlor (the participants were the audience I used to see at my "recitals"). I was forbidden to be involved, however I was forced to watch. At seven I gave my first handjob and fingered someone for the first time. At eight I was thrust into the world of oral sex, I was introduced to fellatio, cunnilingus and analingus. At the age of nine, I was collared, tattooed, branded and pierced. I have a tattoo on the left shoulder of two swords crossed inside of heart (like the suit of cards heart), the brand is a horse shoe, I was given a nose ring, the collar was pad locked and made of iron.

At this point, my father took my vaginal virginity. I tried to run away, however I was beaten. In two weeks I was tied down and the last vestige of my innocence-my anal virginity-was taken. These items were no longer off limits during the orgies.

I can recall the day I tried to run like it was yesterday. I awoke early and decided that if there were other people there had to be other children: I opened the front door and started running. I reached the locked gate which surrounded the estate (none of the estate was viewable from the street). When I came back to the house I was beaten severely.

Mother and father came to the conclusion that I was far too willful. At eleven my collar was chained to a post in the basement. There was no light. I was given a bucket to defecate in, and a food bowl. I was beaten and raped repetitively throughout this time. When I was 13 my parents got fed up, they cut off my food.

They were found and arrested, I was pulled out of the basement, I was too weak to move myself. I was vastly underweight, I was within inches of death. My eyes couldn't bear the light of the sun. I didn't speak for two years, I find it hard to look into people's eyes. I'm afraid of sex. I hold food close to my face while eating it and I eat fast. Cold weather brings back memories. Often, I wake up in the middle of the night after a dream where I relived the branding, or, looking for a collar to make sure I'm not tethered to a post.

The DA kept this out of the media. He believed that it would not help anything. I'm happy I wasn't in the limelight. I can't stand feel good shit like Oprah.
Next: the high school years...
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  #2  
Old 12-11-2009, 04:08 PM
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Default Re: The Much Awaited Story of My Life

Not your blog mother fucker
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Old 12-11-2009, 04:18 PM
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Default Re: The Much Awaited Story of My Life

So you had a good time?
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Old 12-11-2009, 04:21 PM
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Default Re: The Much Awaited Story of My Life

tits or gtfo
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Old 12-11-2009, 04:24 PM
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Default Re: The Much Awaited Story of My Life

wow u should go on oprah or somthing

tl;dr
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Old 12-11-2009, 04:53 PM
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Default Re: The Much Awaited Story of My Life

Quote:
Originally Posted by brandon View Post
wow u should go on oprah or somthing

tl;dr


For once I agree.
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Old 12-11-2009, 05:01 PM
Herpy Derpy Herpy Derpy is offline
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Default Re: The Much Awaited Story of My Life

I'm sorry I have to call troll.

You are too articulate for your story.

Though it does make a good story, so I'll continue to read.
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Old 12-11-2009, 05:17 PM
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Default Re: The Much Awaited Story of My Life

Good story...
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Old 12-11-2009, 05:18 PM
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Default Re: The Much Awaited Story of My Life

Quote:
Originally Posted by brandon View Post
wow u should go on oprah or somthing

tl;dr
You know... I'm just feeling real good
I woke up this morning and said
I wanna be like erm... You know!

Oprah
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Old 12-11-2009, 05:19 PM
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Default Re: The Much Awaited Story of My Life

superfreak
superfreak
im superfreaky yeeeah
aw man what'd i do now
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Old 12-11-2009, 05:43 PM
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Thumbs Down Re: The Much Awaited Story of My Life

You think you had it bad? I didn't even get a cell phone until I was 13!

Quit bitching!
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Old 12-11-2009, 06:15 PM
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Default Re: The Much Awaited Story of My Life

OP rated this 5 stars or whatever, so i rated it the worst rating
and brought it down to 3 stars. LOL
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Old 12-11-2009, 06:34 PM
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One star, terrible.
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Old 12-11-2009, 07:03 PM
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Mad Re: The Much Awaited Story of My Life

Lets see some pics of your recitals.

Also, I expected some backstory of how you came to live with your aunt and uncle.
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  #15  
Old 12-11-2009, 08:16 PM
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Default Re: The Much Awaited Story of My Life

Quote:
Originally Posted by Cyssero View Post
OP rated this 5 stars or whatever, so i rated it the worst rating
and brought it down to 3 stars. LOL
me 2 LOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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Old 12-11-2009, 08:27 PM
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Default Re: The Much Awaited Story of My Life

I want to know what happens next...
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Old 12-11-2009, 08:31 PM
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Default Re: The Much Awaited Story of My Life

Quote:
Originally Posted by Blunderful View Post
superfreak
superfreak
im superfreaky yeeeah
aw man what'd i do now



Shit was bound to happen lol.


*FYI* Gave thread a 1 Star.
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Old 12-11-2009, 08:47 PM
supperrfreek supperrfreek is offline
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Default Re: The Much Awaited Story of My Life

Quote:
Originally Posted by peu4000 View Post
I'm sorry I have to call troll.
You are too articulate for your story.
Too articulate? I'm sorry if proper English was beaten into me from a young age. Perhaps you're just too accustomed to reading brandon speak. I don't need you to validate what I'm saying because-after all-I'm the one who wakes up in the morning, looks in the mirror and knows things will never be right.
Part II: middle school
Anyway, back to my story. After having been pulled from the basement I was placed in a hospital. As I said earlier, I wasn't speaking and had been starved for some time (it's hard to tell how many days because-as I said-there was no light down there: I was kept in darkness. While I was in the hospital, an attempt at questioning me was made by both attorneys to no avail. I could not bring myself to say anything.

The trial's procedures went on without me. The detectives had found the ledger-which was my father's personal record of my life-along with enough pictures to send them to prison. I was placed in the care of a family on Long Island.

At this point, the goal of my foster family was to make me act somewhat normal; as you may recall I had been treated like a dog towards the end of my captivity. I had to learn to wear clothing, eat with silverware, etc. There was one thing I was still without: a name. I was left to my own devices when it came to picking out my name. I found this choice to be hard: I had always been referred to with terms like "it", "child" or "you".

I was placed in the eighth grade. I had never seen so many children in one place. I constantly felt as though people were staring at me. I felt as though they knew my history. Being in the locker room prior to gym class was terrible; girls would stare, gawk and wonder at scars, and the symbols engraved in my skin.

At this point, I was in classes where they attempted to teach me sign language. I found the experience to be frustrating: I could write better than at least three quarters of my class, however I was the one viewed as a retard. Furthermore I was excelling in history and science. Some of the students got in the habit of calling me "shadow" due to the fact that I would avoid attention and was so quiet.

The summer after I turned fourteen, I was left in the care of my foster mother's brother. Uncle Scott they called him. He lived differently than the family I was with. For one thing, he only grew food he grew in his own garden, took from the sea, or his bees had harvested. He also would not stop talking to me about how I was an "indigo child", he liked how I didn't wear makeup. For once, I felt human; he wasn't just ignoring me after giving up.

If Uncle Scott was at one end of the spiritualist spectrum, Uncle Adam was on the other end. He ran a small garage, was frequently angry, and drank heavily. I spent the other half of the summer with him. His speech was littered with profanity. It seemed improbable to me that the same womb which held Uncle Scott and my foster mother was capable of producing something as rough, gruff and angry as Uncle Adam. He couldn't stop talking to me as well, it was from him I learned the different tools and sizes. In the shop I had two jobs: listen to Uncle Adam's rants about Vietnam, and get tools for the mechanics.

When you spend a prolonged period of time silent, you almost forget you have a voice. The night before I left Uncle Adam's home I was having a particularly vivid reliving of my branding. I awoke suddenly, I screamed "get out of my head!" I was sobbing, my door opened. There he was. He looked tired.
"I thought you didn't talk?" he quipped.
I looked up at him, I stuttered "I...I...I...didn't know I could."
"Is there something you'd like to talk about?" he asked, this time more seriously.
We stayed up and talked for the whole night. He was the first person to hear my story, he told me he'd keep it to himself. His logic rested on the fact that it was my story and he couldn't tell it any better than me.
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Old 12-11-2009, 09:37 PM
supperrfreek supperrfreek is offline
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Default Re: The Much Awaited Story of My Life

Quote:
Originally Posted by Blunderful View Post
superfreak
superfreak
im superfreaky yeeeah
aw man what'd i do now
When you're hiding-be it in real life or on the internet-it's best to do what wouldn't be expected of you.
Edit: this is also why I've been masquerading as a man on the internet.

Last edited by supperrfreek; 12-11-2009 at 10:31 PM.
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  #20  
Old 12-11-2009, 10:40 PM
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Default Re: The Much Awaited Story of My Life

You want to watch your back for Terminators and shit.
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Old 12-11-2009, 11:26 PM
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Default Re: The Much Awaited Story of My Life

I'll give sympathy when I see proof.
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  #22  
Old 12-12-2009, 12:09 AM
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Default Re: The Much Awaited Story of My Life

im calling shannagons
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  #23  
Old 12-12-2009, 12:35 AM
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Default Re: The Much Awaited Story of My Life

Quote:
Lets see some pics of your recitals.
I think it would be called child pornography if I did show you them. If it's CP you're looking for, check 4chan.

Meeting My 'Sister'

On the ride home from Uncle Adam's house, I sat in the small compact car with my foster parents. Uncle Adam managed to tell my parents that I had spoken in a way which didn't push them to the point of hysteria.

On the way back, I was asked a wide variety of stupid questions. Everything about who I used to be. I had kept the habit of only speaking when spoken to, so questions were answered in a short, polite manner. I was informed that I was going to meet my 'sister'; she was moving back in after college in California and "couldn't wait to meet me". I was somewhat excited, somewhat nervous: I had never lived with another person close to my age. I was also informed I would be sharing a room with her; the prospect didn't bother me as I didn't own much and didn't take up much space.

When we arrived at home, Sarah-my 'sister'-was there to greet me.
"OH MY GOD!" she squealed as we walked in the door, "where is she?"
"This is her" said my step dad.
She ran over and hugged me. It was an alien gesture to me, it didn't quite register, as with all hugs I hung limp: I didn't know what to do, unless I was being beaten or used I wasn't touched. I could tell by the look in her eyes after the embrace that she knew something was wrong, and, that she hadn't been told the whole story.
"So I haven't been told your name," she said "I heard you picked it out yourself, would you mind telling me what you decided on?"
"I chose to call myself Natalya." I replied.
Later that day I was reading in the living room. She sat next to me on the sofa.
"Whatcha reading?" she asked.
I picked up the book and showed her the cover.
"Not much of a talker huh?" she replied.
"I prefer not to" I replied.
"But you have such a nice voice." she claimed.
Had I been raised to be vain this rejoinder would have elicited a more robust response than the simple "thank you" I issued it.

I had a feeling our exchanges would be like this for a while; her prodding for more information, myself attempting to avoid divulging the squalid details of my past. I knew that she was attempting to extrapolate something about my past. I didn't care what it was, I just didn't want to give it up. I didn't know why she was so fascinated with my past.

Then again, I didn't know why I was supposed to do a lot of the social graces I was taught were "right and proper." I was just hoping I wouldn't be fall back into the abyss of my past.
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Old 12-12-2009, 12:55 AM
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Default Re: The Much Awaited Story of My Life

Awesome story, wether it's true or not.

By the way, I googled your name, "Natalya". I shit you not this is the first pic that appeared:
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Old 12-12-2009, 01:42 AM
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Vizier View Post
Awesome story, wether it's true or not.

By the way, I googled your name, "Natalya". I shit you not this is the first pic that appeared:
She doesn't look at all like me. It's a good thing you can't find my picture: I don't like publicity.
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Old 12-12-2009, 02:15 AM
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Default Re: The Much Awaited Story of My Life

So assuming this is true, why are you posting it?
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Old 12-12-2009, 02:33 AM
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Default Re: The Much Awaited Story of My Life

I'm really enjoying your tale so far - please continue.
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Old 12-12-2009, 03:43 AM
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High School

I was constantly watching my back at home, I didn't have the foggiest idea why my past was such a hot commodity with my 'sister'. It was as though she was constantly searching for a pretext. The first day of school couldn't have came soon enough.

I got my schedule in the mail a few weeks before I had classes. I had also received a notice about meeting with the school psychiatrist once a week: I was able to dodge this bullet before I broke my silence, however, now I was going to have to speak with him.

When people found out I could talk on the first day of classes, the questions didn't stop. People noticed my aversion, they also noticed how uncomfortable I looked due to the cold of the air conditioning. My aversion to the questions was adequate, however, the rumor mill was working hard that day. Of course I didn't hear many of the rumors, but, I knew they were out there. You get a feeling when a room turns silent when you come in.

My next day was my first meeting with the psychiatrist. I felt very unsettled by the cold of his office. He was trying to be genial and nice, I saw him as smarmy. He asked questions; I gave indirect or incomplete answers, he wrote for the whole time. It seemed as though I was to do the vast majority of talking while he scribbled notes. Even though these notes were about me and pertained to my health I was not allowed to see them. At the end of the session I watched the psychiatrist put his notes into a file; in that file, I saw a familiar book binding. I was shocked: he probably knew everything.

I was on edge the next few days, the combined effects of nearly constant prodding, the book, the air conditioning, and the eyes were taking their tolls. My head was on a swivel constantly: I was nervous. As with middle school, I hated the locker room, even more so now that people could ask what was on my shoulder.

I didn't like what was happening: I was getting engaged and I wasn't liking any of it; I wanted to withdraw. I didn't want to be forced to talk about my life: I was ashamed of it when I thought about the disparities. I was disgusted by other who acted like daddy buying them a car in the wrong color was a big deal. I didn't like being accosted by them.

The way I dressed didn't help with the rumors, and it didn't help with the questioning. I usually stuck with loose work pants secured with a belt, work boots, a pull over hoody, and a baseball cap. The ponytail stayed and makeup was never introduced. I'm pretty sure people thought I was a lesbian. I had seen both sides of the sexual equation, I can't say I liked either one (both were forced on me and usually coupled with something unpleasant).

It became more and more apparent that I wasn't normal, and I couldn't wait for the novelty of it all to wear off.
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Old 12-12-2009, 03:45 AM
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Default Re: The Much Awaited Story of My Life

Quote:
Originally Posted by Name's Taken View Post
So assuming this is true, why are you posting it?
I was told recently that I should try to accept what happened to me and learn to live with it. I feel like talking about it a little more-as opposed to trying to forget about it and bottling up what I felt along the way-will help me to recover.
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Old 12-12-2009, 04:10 AM
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Arrow Re: The Much Awaited Story of My Life

Do continue.

Whether this is fact or fiction, it is an interesting read and it's very well written.
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Old 12-12-2009, 04:34 AM
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Default Re: The Much Awaited Story of My Life

Quote:
Originally Posted by supperrfreek View Post
I was told recently that I should try to accept what happened to me and learn to live with it. I feel like talking about it a little more-as opposed to trying to forget about it and bottling up what I felt along the way-will help me to recover.
Oh. I see.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Unwyred View Post
Do continue.

Whether this is fact or fiction, it is an interesting read and it's very well written.
This.
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Old 12-12-2009, 04:45 AM
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Default Re: The Much Awaited Story of My Life

You forgot to mention when you went to live with your aunt and uncle that they lived in Bel-Air, and the taxi driver had dice.
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Old 12-12-2009, 04:46 AM
supperrfreek supperrfreek is offline
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High School: Part II

The year was going by slowly. I was often tempted to go into the auditorium, even though it was cold, it was quiet, and there were few people. One day, I decided I was going to go there. One thing I noticed about the auditorium as I walked through was the grand piano in the orchestra pit.

I was afraid to go near the piano. My 'recitals' of years past usually involved groping and my innocence being despoiled just a little more each time. However, I could hardly remember what playing was like. I approached the massive black piano, pulled back the bench and sat down. My back was ramrod straight, I closed my eyes, and I played-from memory-some pieces I was particularly fond of. I couldn't close my eyes, I had been trained not to do so while I was on the piano. Although I knew I was out of practice, my fingers still glided over the keys as I tried my hardest to hold back the hot tears.

I heard the door to the auditorium close, I snapped out of my reverie. I realized I was no longer alone, and that I had been in an almost dream like trance. As I finished what I had been playing (it must have been Fur Elise by Beethoven) I looked around the cavernous room. My audience was nonexistent, or perhaps I was not looking hard enough. I stood up, and slowly moved away from the piano one step at a time. I was scared, I thought I was alone. I was now at a disadvantage to whoever else might be in the room, I had slipped into a dreamlike trance mesmerized by the piano like a child staring at a television screen. I slowly backed away, rotating, waiting for my predator to move or make a sound. I picked up my backpack quietly and slipped out a side door. I ran down the hall, glanced at my watch, and slowed down. I was supposed to be in the cafeteria eating lunch, I had not dipped into class time during my excursion.

I walked, head down through the hallway towards my next class. It was math AB (a mix of algebra, geometry, and trigonometry they give to students in New York: A is normally for 9th graders, AB for 10th, in 10th you take a standardized test, the regents, then in 11th you take math B and pre calculus senior year, however I was just a little bit ahead of my peers). I wasn't particularly excited, and was taking the long way to get there so I could be right on time: I didn't like to be early, and I most certainly didn't like to be late.

I was scared, I had just about no people I could count on; no inner circle of "best friends" so to speak. I was alone. And, I now had a stalker. Things seemed to be getting worse. It consumed me. I was bemused by the idea of someone finding me attractive, I didn't know what they were thinking about. I was only used to being used and discarded until the next urge hit, much like the sock a young boy uses to wipe up after masturbating.

Perhaps that's what we do to other people: we use them, tuck them into the sock drawer and pull them out when the urge arises. When we can no longer use them, we tie them to a pole in the basement, leave them "in storage" and-eventually-cut off the food after we've determined we can no longer use them.
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  #34  
Old 12-12-2009, 05:04 AM
supperrfreek supperrfreek is offline
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Default Re: The Much Awaited Story of My Life

More to follow sometime tomorrow, I'm getting tired and I'm getting a headache from staring at my computer's screen.
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  #35  
Old 12-12-2009, 05:09 AM
Herpy Derpy Herpy Derpy is offline
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Default Re: The Much Awaited Story of My Life

OP you're pretty self centred.
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  #36  
Old 12-12-2009, 05:19 AM
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Unwyred Unwyred is offline
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Arrow Re: The Much Awaited Story of My Life

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Originally Posted by supperrfreek View Post
More to follow sometime tomorrow, I'm getting tired and I'm getting a headache from staring at my computer's screen.
Damn. So we've all got to wait until tomorrow now? Ah well, you best set your alarm so you can continue; I'm very much into this story now.

Also, though I won't pressure you to do so, a recent photo of yourself might help to verify the authenticity of this account to the more skeptical readers.
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- peace out
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Old 12-12-2009, 05:47 AM
Nostalgia Nostalgia is offline
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Default Re: The Much Awaited Story of My Life

Infract her, this belongs in LL&R.
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  #38  
Old 12-12-2009, 05:54 AM
Im Bored Im Bored is offline
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Default Re: The Much Awaited Story of My Life

I read a few sentences, it's to boring now post tit pics.
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  #39  
Old 12-12-2009, 06:07 AM
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Unwyred Unwyred is offline
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Infract her, this belongs in LL&R.
Nah, I'm leaving it here for the general discussion it will draw for the time being. I'm curious as to how this all comes together and want to see the outcome. Until the story's done, it's staying here unless there is sufficient reason to move it to another forum.
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  #40  
Old 12-12-2009, 12:51 PM
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Michael Scott Michael Scott is offline
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Default Re: The Much Awaited Story of My Life

MOAR!!!

and pics of your sister
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