Office Virgin 8211 Lite Aa Blood Vanthathu Pola Irrunthathu
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The Thing That Should Not Be free porn video
"... And how does that make you feel?" a dry, uninterested voice asks.
Yep, this is what my life has come to; Therapy. Not what I would have expected, especially so young. Since the age of 7, I have been in therapy, according to my parents I have 'anger issues'... I have always had a low tolerance level for stupid, which most people seem to be, but it has never really caused many problems in my life, certainly no reason to send me to a psychologist and dose me up on meds for the past 11 years of my life anyway.
According to my therapist, I have "unreserved rage" and I "could be a danger to society if I am taken off my medication". Yeah, I get angry, but who doesn't get angry at stupid people when they do stupid things? Just because I don't put up with it I am labeled broken and some quack earns a good living off of pretending to try and fix me. All this asshole does is sit on the chair, ask me stupid shit and want to know my feelings about it. HELLO? I HAVE 'ANGER ISSUES'. IM ANGRY ABOUT IT! What the hell else does he expect from me? Yeah, the meds keep me somewhat sedated. It's weird, honestly. It is almost like they just wall off the side of my personality that would shout and scream at somebody for doing stupid shit. But because of this wall, I am numb to all the stupidity of the world. It's still there, I still see it but I just look the other way just like the rest of the clowns walking through the street. But the problem with just walling something off is that it doesn't shut everything out. It just stops it from acting.
Looking around this office is exactly what you would expect, and it's the same as ever other quacks office I have had the delight to be acquainted with. A large brown leather chair for Mr. HolierThanThou, and a three-seater sofa for the broken ones. A small mahogany table next to the armchair with some kind of fake flower, I suppose it's supposed to make me feel more welcome or something? I don't know. The dark green carpet runs the length of the entire room leading up to the huge mahogany bookshelf filled with books of all colours, large bound in leather, some paperback, many different titles, and authors, of course, the standard for every psychologist's office, the entire works of Sigmund Freud.
After all the years in therapy I have been recommended this book many times, a few years ago I was walking home from school and passed by a used book store, I popped in and asked the cashier if she had a copy of 'The Psychopathology of Everyday Life' which is the book I had been recommended the most, obviously they didn't have a copy, what random used book store in a random town such as mine would just happen to have any works of Freud just lying around, but thankfully she told me that she could order it for me and a week later I went to pick it up. It took a while to read through the book, lots of internet searching to understand certain words and references but I did manage to get through it in the end. Apparently according to one of the leading experts in the field of psychology we all want to fuck our mothers. Everything can be boiled down to that. -Are you angry about some asshole stealing your parking space? I bet it's because you couldn't bang your mother!- Just stupid shit really, to me it says more about the author than the reader.
The other side of the room was a big mahogany desk, complete with a brown leather office chair and two brown leather single seats for meetings I guess. On top of the desk was a dark green lamp pointed at a stack of papers, a silver laptop left open with the screen facing the other way and a mahogany name-plate that read 'Dr. Morgan Mulstein Ph.D'.
In the center of the room underneath my feet was the most ugly and repulsive rug I have ever seen, looks like some weird kind of geometric pattern in burgundy, and on top of the rug was another mahogany coffee table with another plant, this one was a bonsai tree, luckily one of the only things in the world of nature that you could even recognize (Thank you, Mr. Miyagi).
"... Luke?" the sound of your own name snapping you back to reality.
"Hmm?" is all you could reply while looking back at Dr. Mulstein. His appearance just as boring as his office, and his voice to boot. Must be in his early 50's, hair mostly grey now but you can still see the specs of black in there from his more youthful days, small rectangular glasses down at the end of his rather generously proportioned nose, his face giving away years of frowning and looking gloomy, the edges of his mouth seems to be in a permanent frown now, kind of reminds me of a mastiff dog breed. Solid grey suit, with a plain white shirt and a plain grey tie. Everything about this mans appearance screams "I gave up trying to look good in university".
"Tell me, what were you thinking about just then?" his nasal voice asked, pretending to be interested.
"Oh, nothing." your half-assed reply
"Luke..."
"Ok fine, I was thinking about breaking someones neck to steal their car, speeding down to California to have a shoot-out with the police after breaking in to Taylor Swift's mansion to show her how a real man treats a hot piece of ass, then dying by self-immolation while balls deep in the screaming singer so I can listen to her next album called 'Burn, burn away' from the pits of hell where I will then high-five the devil and fuck some hot demon chick".
"... I think that's all the time we have this week, thank you for coming and I'll see you again next week. Don't forget to take your medication and call me if you need to". The same line every week rehearsed to perfection.
Ushered out the door you walk down the bland hallway of his office, noting the grey wallpaper, there were a few doors on the way to the elevator, probably his coworkers, and a strategically placed plant outside every door. A few pictures on the wall of ink blots and diagrams of the human brain. When you reach the elevator you push the button for the car park and descended. The lights in the elevator flickered a few times.
A searing pain attacks your consciousness.
"Kulknej bugd ul vadokiprus kulshodar ro zemaraum" thundered around your skull.
Lights flickering in the elevator.
"Kulknej bugd ul vadokiprus kulshodar ro zemaraum"
Blood starts pouring from your nose
"Kulknej bugd ul vadokiprus kulshodar ro zemaraum"
Your eyes start to dim and fade to black
"Kulknej bugd ul vadokiprus kulshodar ro zemaraum"
You fall over, unconscious.
"Kulknej bugd ul vadokiprus kulshodar ro zemaraum"
You are about to die.
-DING-
The elevator doors open into... Nothingness. Darkness. Emptiness.
Author note: Due to a busy schedule right now I will be updating this story once per week on Thursday's but the chapters should be quite long, if I have extra time I may be able to upload twice on certain Thursday's.
Thanks all and happy reading.
Uma
- 06.08.2020
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- Fantasy
