The Curse Of The Were-Whore Part I free porn video

The curse of the were-whore By Machiavelli Friday Joe-Bob Brigham watched the woman sauntering across the street, his tongue hanging out. She was a looker. High firm breasts (Too small though, they were only maybe a 36C) tight little ass, and legs that wouldn't quit. She was wearing a long skirt with a slit up the side to the thigh. A white blouse, with a bolero jacket and carried a small clutch purse. All Joe-Bob could think of was imagining those legs wrapped around him, her screaming as he drove her over the top. What was this fine bitch doing out at three in the morning? She paused, looking at the darkening sky The clouds had obscured the full glowing moon, and they were getting thicker. The wind picked up and she pulled her bolero jacket tighter as she walked into it. Then the rain came down. It didn't come down in drops, it came down in sheets! She scurried along, those four inch heels clicking as she ran for the bus stop. She shook that magnificent mane of red hair angrily, and looked at her soaked blouse. The material had become almost transparent across those magnificent tits, and his mouth watered at the sight of the black lace bra. He grinned, looking up and thanking whatever god had put him here, the patrol car turning right onto the street she was walking down. He pulled up in front of the bus stop, then put it in park, rolling down the window. "Need a lift?" She looked at him with a sour expression. "No. I'm fine." He looked at his watch. "You do know the last bus ran about twenty minutes ago." She looked at her watch, and cursed under her breath. "That's not a problem. I'll wait." "Ah come on, lady. I won't bite." She just looked at him. He snarled under his breath. "I said get in the car." "Really, I'm fine." He flipped on the lights, getting out. In his uniform he was imposing. Over six foot tall, arms bigger than most men's thighs. Yet she merely looked up at him calmly. "You have a choice, lady. You can get in the front seat peaceably, or I cuff you and stick you in the back. I'm sure if we run you, I'll find an old solicitation charge on you." She just looked at him. "I don't think you want to do that." "In the car," he growled. "Now." She looked at him, then slowly walked over to the unit. She opened the door, and she turned, sliding that fine ass onto the seat, and turned to bring her legs into the car. "As you wish." She said. He climbed back in, put the car in gear, and drove down the street. She wasn't acting right. She wasn't scared, or angry. She almost looked amused. Well he'd break her of that real quick. He took the purse from her hand rifling through it. There was money in the wallet, but no ID. "Don't you know you have to carry ID?" "I don't have any," she replied. He snorted. They drove down the street, onto the highway, and to the rest stop. He parked, then signaled for her to get out. She opened the door, sliding out of the Sheriff's unit, and he followed her. "That way." She looked at him again. "I suggest you forget what is on your mind, deputy." "Why?" He stepped in close, using his height to tower over her. "I catch a whore on the street, I take my share before she gets cut loose. Or I book her. You're choice." "I'd rather go to the station, if you don't mind," she told him. He slapped her, flinging her off her feet to crumple on the ground. She rolled over, looking up at him, and her hand touched the blood from her split lip. Still no emotion. He caught the neck of her blouse, and dragged her back to her feet. Then he shoved her toward the rest stop bathroom. She staggered a little from the slap, but she stayed on her feet. He used the passkey he had made a year before when he was working for Park services, slapping the Men's room door open, then threw the bolt. "On your knees, bitch." Still that calm look. Daintily she pulled her skirt up and knelt, and he caught her head with his hand as he unzipped his pants. He flopped out his cock, and dragged her head toward his crotch. "Last chance," she said in that same bored tone. "Either you suck it, or I'll break your fucking jaw." She looked at him, then leaned forward, sucking the tip into her mouth. He hissed as he felt her tongue running along the bottom as she slid forward. When she started to slide back, his hand jammed her forward, and she gulped as it rammed into her throat. Her eyes looked up at him, and he snarled at the reproach in her eyes. He held on, using her hair to control her head as he face fucked her. Then he shoved her off him. "I've had better head from my sister." "You miss her?" she asked. He slapped her again, then caught her blouse. He ripped it over, then ripped off the bra. Her breasts looked wonderful, and he dragged her to her feet, slamming her against the wall. He bit the nipple, and she gave a cry in pain as he savaged it. Her hands hung at her sides, doing nothing to help or hinder. He stepped back, slapping her again. "Lose the skirt." She unclipped it, slid it down her long beautiful legs, and folded it neatly. Her panties matched the ruined bra, as did the garter belt. "My mama always told me there's only one kind of woman that wears a garter belt these days. That's a whore." "Are all women whores, deputy?" His eyes snapped up Even with the side of her face swelling from his blows, she was serene. "Is that all you see when a woman walks by?" He punched her, feeling her nose break. Then he ripped off the panties, shoving her against the wall as he slid between her legs. He entered her brutally, pinning her hands above her head as he fucked her hard. Except for wincing from pain, she still didn't give him any reaction. "Fine, since you can't feel this, how about this?" He pulled out, spun her around slamming her face down on the sink, sliding his cock up to her ass. He slammed into her, and she almost screamed at the pain as he raped her ass. He held her arms pinned behind her as he took what he wanted, as he had for the last year, ever since Uncle Victor gave him the badge. His uncle didn't mind if a whore got fucked by his men. It kept the bitchs off the street for a few days, made it look like the deputies were doing something and if some woman was stupid enough to be walking the streets alone after the bars closed... He came, spraying into her. He collapsed on her back, content. "Since you're done, get off me." He stood, spun her around, and punched her again and again. He finally stopped when she was a crumpled pile on the floor. "Stay off the streets at night, whore." He zipped up his pants, and stormed out. For a long time she simply curled up there. Then she stood. She looked in the mirror at her savagely beaten face. Then as if nothing had happened, she took the brush from her purse, and brushed her hair. Only then did she smile. **** Joe-Bob parked the car, and checked in at the desk. Mildred, the fat old cow that was night dispatcher nodded to him. "New schedule is up," she told him in that nasal whine he hated so much. He walked back to the break room, got a cup of coffee, and looked at the new duty schedule for the next month. He was on swing, Damnit. But he had two days to get used to it. He wanted to complain, but his uncle would cover for his extra curricular activities, but not keep him on nights. A pity. The amount of women in this county that would rather suck off the officer than get a ticket was astounding. He took the coffee with him, and went back on patrol. Saturday Joe-Bob woke with a start, clutching the blankets. That was the weirdest dream in a series of weird dreams... He had been in a bar. He wasn't sure which one it was, but it looked familiar. He was drinking some girly drink, and wanted a beer instead, but he couldn't bring himself to call over the bartender. Someone had sat down at the stool next to him. It was a guy who was smiling at him. Oddly enough, he had to look up to see the man's eyes. "I haven't seen you here before," the guy had said. Joe-Bob wanted to tell the fag to push off, but for some reason, he found himself smiling and looking away. The guy had reached out- And Joe-Bob had waked up. For the last week or so he'd been dreaming of walking. The streets had been the ones he already knew, but it had always been at night, and there had been an odd clicking sound as he did. Sometimes in the dreams he went into stores, looking at clothes, but they had been women's clothes. All had been short, as if he was only catching glimpses of what was happening. He snorted, looking at the clock. Two in the afternoon. He had to be in the station in two hours. He'd taken a week to get used to swing shift instead of graveyard. He sat up, wiping his face, and looked at the room. He'd moved out of his parent's house a couple of years ago, and it usually looked like he hadn't cleaned it in all that time. He stared at the now immaculate room. The clothes that were strewn about normally were gone. The dresser had been cleared, and everything on it now was neatly placed. Slowly he got up, looking around. There was nothing under the bed. He stood, going to the closet, then the dresser. The clothes had not been stuffed in the hamper, they had been taken down to the laundry room washed then neatly folded and hung. He stared into the closet, then plucked out one hanger. There was a wine red sheath dress on it. Size five. He'd never seen it before. A pair of burgundy shoes, size five as well. Now who the hell had left that? Hadn't been a woman in here since he moved in. He shook his head, tossing it on the floor, and went to the bathroom. This had also been scrubbed until it shone. There was a new partially used bottle of shampoo he hadn't bought on the side of the tub, and another of conditioner. The towels that had been laying in a pile since he'd arrived were gone, cleaned, neatly folded, and one was hanging on the towel bar. Another lay in the hamper, and he picked it up. It was damp. He shrugged, and showered. He got another surprise when he opened the medicine cabinet. All of his stuff that had been haphazardly scattered had been stored neatly on the upper shelf. The bottom shelf had stuff he'd never seen. He looked through it. Moisturizer cream, foundation, blush, condoms? He snarled. Damnit, some bitch had probably broken in last night while he was on shift. Though he could see the police report; "Let me get this straight, Joe-Bob. Someone broke in and cleaned?" Fuck it. He'd cruise by tonight and check it out himself. He dressed and went to the kitchen. Another target of the phantom maid. Dishes sparkling, everything just so in the cabinets. Again there were things he hadn't gotten. Peanut butter, he hated peanut butter! Whole wheat bread, marmalade for Christ sake! In the refrigerator there was diet soda, vegetables and cottage cheese. In the freezer compartment were some of those weight watcher type dinners. She must think that cleaning would let him move in. Fuck her. He pulled out some hamburger patties, fried them up (Intentionally spreading grease around the counters) slapped them on some of the bread she had left, and squeezed some mustard out of the bottle. He bit into it, then threw it down. Who the fuck actually liked Dijon mustard? He scraped the crap off his sandwich, tried to find some of the French's Yellow, but it was gone. The bitch had actually emptied out his French's squeeze bottle and filled it with this baby shit! He ate the hamburgers in a haze of fury. When he caught the bitch he'd fuck her until she bled, then arrest her. He left a note on the table: GET YOUR SHIT OUT OF MY HOUSE AND STAY THE FUCK OUT!!!!! ***** Patrol was quiet. He caught a couple of speeders, but they were guys. He cruised by the place after dark, but the lights weren't on either time. When he got off, he drove home, and opened the door. No spate of cleaning, no empty food containers. Everything was as he left it. As he slept, he dreamed again... Another bar. This one he recognized. He was drinking another girly drink, and again, he couldn't find it in him to get something else. Someone tapped his shoulder, and a guy was there. Different guy. Smaller. "Can I buy you a drink?" He started to tell the fag to fly away, but was shocked to hear his voice say 'Sure, sugar. Another daiquiri if you don't mind." For some reason he'd been using a soft southern accent that reminded him of Daisy Duke from the new Dukes of Hazzard movie. "Mind? Best looking woman in the place?" He turned, and Joe-Bob wanted to smash his fucking head in! But he found himself blushing. The drink arrived, and he looked at the hand that picked it up. It was fine boned, slender, with long nails and bright green nail polish. The drink approached his face- He snapped awake. The alarm had gone off, and he grabbed the clock. He looked around and cursed. Damn it he knew he'd thrown the uniform shift on the floor. Where the fuck was it? He dug around and found it in the hamper. He hadn't even known he'd had a hamper! There was another dress in the closet beside the first. This one was a bright Kelly green and again there were matching shoes. Now there were tampons in the fucking medicine cabinet, a teeth whitening toothpaste, dental floss and mouthwash. Beside them was a bottle of white vinegar and hanging beside the sink a douche bag. There were long ash blonde hairs in the trash can. When he went to get underwear, he found the drawer in the chest of drawers where he usually put them was filled with instead panties in a riot of colors, thongs, tied side ones, stockings and garter belts. Another which had once been filled with socks now held a few bras in 36D. He finally found the briefs and socks in the drawer with his T shirts. But they were all clean and some of them were brand new! That might explain where the hamper came from too. He went into the living room, and saw a handful of movies on disc. All were chick flicks. Whoever it was had returned the kitchen to it's pristine state. One of the TV dinners had been eaten, and the box was in his trash. There was a new trash can beside it, and he found empty soda cans, and a bright and cheery sign that said RECYCLABLES stuck on it. In the kitchen he found a note; CATCH ME IF YOU CAN! II He requested to be switched to days. It would cut into his sex life, but he was going to catch this little bitch if it was the last thing he did. The dreams continued while he was on swing. Bars, some he knew, some he didn't. Men buying him drinks, talking to him like he was a bitch laying their hands on him. They also got longer. The last one had been the most bizarre. He'd sipped the drink the guy had bought, then danced with him. Except for the guy in the second dream, all had been taller, and this one was huge! The guy had chosen one of those slow songs, and Joe-Bob had found himself mashed against the giant. Then he had felt the fucker's prick poking him in the stomach. He'd wanted to slide back, but instead he had felt his stomach push into it slightly. "Hey, I've got a place nearby," the guy had said. "What about coming by?" "Can't tonight, sugar," he heard himself say. "Can't do anything until the full moon. Those are the rules." "Whose rules?" the guy had asked, looking puzzled. "My rules," he heard his voice say. "But if you want to make a date for Friday of next week..." "I just wish it could be sooner." The guy's hands slid down and Joe Bob wanted to scream when they caught his ass. But he purred, leaning into the guy. The clothes felt funny. Smoother than he was used to He looked at his shoulder, and all he could see was a royal blue strap. What the- He'd gotten used to the rooms being clean now, but he still didn't like it. Every night now there was a different dress and yet another pair of shoes. Almost as if she bought something new every time she came by. The food she had bought had been replenished, and she'd bought some rum and Daiquiri mix, and now there was a neat make up case sitting in the corner of the bathroom. He'd thrown it all out a few days ago, but when he awoke it was back. There was a note, this time pinned to his pillow; TRY THAT AGAIN, AND YOU'LL WAKE UP WEARING PANTIES! A lot of what he'd trashed had been ruined, but she had replaced everything. He felt a chill. She'd said something about the full moon, and he was switching to days two days before. ***** The transfer to days came through, and he prepared. The bitch probably expected him to stay on swing or go back to graveyard. He'd leave as if going to work, come back after dark, and sit here in the dark waiting for her to come by. He popped the top on a beer, and sipped it. There was a movie on that he wanted to see- The sun shone through the window. He looked around frantically. He'd remembered picking up the remote, switching on the TV, then... Nothing. On the table in front of him was a note, and he picked it up. IF YOU REALLY WANT TO MEET ME, BE IN YOUR APARTMENT TONIGHT AT SUN DOWN. He ate, walked, considered going to the river, but decided not to. The Bitch had shuffled his stuff again, and now a drawer contained bikinis and single piece bathing suits. He gave a long suffering sigh and dressed for work. Patrol was easy, some domestic disputes, speeders, cruising the streets to show the flag as it were. Then the shift was over and he went home. Dinner was more hamburgers he cooked himself, and he sat down to wait. The sun was on the horizon, and he felt a chill of fear. The bitch had been a ghost, a phantom, always coming when he was asleep. He'd considered an alarm, and bought some of the traveler type Radio Shack sold that hung on the door knobs, but she'd gotten by every time. The sun settled lower, dropping down, the shadows flowing to fill in behind the light, the globe sliding further, further, now just a sliver above the horizon, then it was gone- He awoke sitting on the couch. He found himself standing, and walking toward the bed room. The walk didn't feel right, his body moved oddly, and things looked... bigger than they had before. He reached out, and flipped on the light. The toilet was to his left beside the tub, the mirror of the medicine cabinet to his right, and he walked forward, and turned. The face was... Damnit, the face was cute. Full pouting lips, wide expressive green eyes hair almost pale white. He could see the baggy top of his uniform shirt, with the badge still attached. She leaned forward, face inches from the mirror. "Hello Joe-Bob." He recoiled in horror, then the body leaned back toward the mirror. "You can't have control of the body just yet, sugar. Not until tomorrow at any rate. My name is Sue-Ann. Now I know you have lots of questions, but you all can wait until I explain. "Round about seven thousand years ago, a group of witches came up with the perfect punishment for men like you are. They turned them into women. But the problem was, they couldn't get them all, after all, people like you who get a secret thrill from screwing a woman and being untouchable when the law was involved always seemed to get away. "So they created a spell that was like a disease. One that gets passed on when one of you comes out of the woodwork. We call it the were-virus now a days. It also makes the punishment fit the crime, because the only way to get it is to screw some were-woman without her consent. "Part of the spell is what is talking to you now. It's like an owner's manual to give you a warning. If you was smarter I could use big words like recombinant DNA and obsessive compulsive disorder, but they don't mean nothing to you, so I got to use small words. Now where was I? "When you shove that piece of meat into a were-woman, her body's own juices pass it on to you. Then when the moon is full, you turn into...me. Way back when the women that they became hid, hoping they would not meet someone like you. They would cluster together in groups away from men to make sure they didn't pass it on. Convents were a big thing for a time because nuns don't get laid that often. "Course some of them ended up screwed literally, and it got passed on anyway. "Now what this means is for three days of every moon cycle, it's me people see, not you. You may control the body, but it's my body. The rest of the time, you are there at all hours unless you really want to try swinging from the other side. Because you can become me by wanting to be. "Course I warn you there's a catch. You see, you may be in charge the rest of the time, but the spell is still there hard at work. If you get hot and horny, I come out instead. Meaning you can't rape any more women, because just letting those old juices flow means it's me that will be with the girl. And I will be there until sun up every time. "Now I know you was watching me as I scoped the county, and there's a reason I did. You see, the kind of filth you are tends to hang around those places a lot. Looking for some foxy bitch to throw down. So the spell lets me take over when I wanted to the first month. I could walk around, check out the night life find out where you all hang out. But only when you were asleep. That's why I was hanging in bars during the day and late at night when you were on Swing shift. But as of moonrise tomorrow, it's going to be you in this body. I warn you now you can't just stay home. You will be compelled to wander the streets for the next three nights, and you will have to figure out how not to get fucked. Oh you can try." There was a low laugh. "All of us try at first. But it's like a drug. If you don't go onto the streets, you will find yourself playing with yourself until you're sore. You'll find a couple of dildos in the house if you really look for them. But think about what happens if some man comes to the door? You're going to be hot and bothered and all you are going to want is some guy's dick to fill a hole. In fact every night you are me, you will get fucked. Either with a dildo or a dick or some girl's tongue. "You see, you can have sex with a man in any way you want or in the case of trying to hold off, need to. But you have to use protection. One drop of cum, even precum will make you a woman forever. And he catches the spell instead. So I suggest you make sure that if some biker bitch decides to fuck you, she doesn't have some real cum in that dildo, because you'll be a woman before you even know it. "Course you can try to dress down, look less attractive. Most of us do that after a while because maybe there isn't any of your kind around. Remember the woman you dragged to the rest area? Why do you think a woman dressed like that was on the streets at that hour? Because she had to be there, and she was dressed as far down as we can go. No sweats for us. We have to dress feminine, and attractive. The spell makes us do it. "We're all very attractive, more attractive than the average woman. The better to draw in your kind of predator. And I would suggest you keep your running shoes on if you could wear them because if one of them sees you, he's going to want you. If he has to rape you, he will. If he does, the change becomes permanent. You become and stay a woman forever. "Now being a woman isn't so bad, long as you are careful. There are a lot of guys out there that will be hanging on you with their tongues out, and you're going to find some way to satisfy that sexual itch unless you decide you like dildos. You can always go lesbian, but if you do, you're going to be a femme one, meaning the girl you choose will still be fucking you. But that's okay. But sooner or later, your body is going to want something filling it that feels so much better. If you're not careful, you're going to be a woman forever. A lot of us do that. They finally can't control themselves, and take a dick without being careful. "Used to be, all you could do was hide. But that's changed since the Egyptians. They started making sheaths of linen about three thousand years ago. The first condoms. Everyone seems to think they are to stop women from getting pregnant, but that is only part of it. You see, when the Priest-King of Thebes caught it from a slave girl, he was in a pretty pickle. He couldn't just dip that old wick any more, and every full moon for three days he was a woman all the time. A woman every one of those ancient fuckers wanted to fuck. So the priest king made it part of the religion. Made a special harem of his own with 'sacred virgins'. Made the priests wear them when they did the sacred virgins because the gods wanted them without having had children. Gave him a chance to see how much fun it was without becoming a woman all the time. "So tonight I set the final brick in your cage, little man. You saw the guy I was with? The one I agreed to meet tomorrow? Well I lied to you. I called him and made that date for tonight. In about three hours I am going out to meet him, and he's going to fuck me. When I come as a woman with a man inside me, you are trapped forever. "I know, you don't want me to do this, but think. What happens if I don't? Then tomorrow you're going to wake up a woman, and the only thing you're going to think about is having a dick somewhere in you. Maybe you'll be careful, maybe not. "Now if you have any questions, you'd best ask them now. Because there may be a dick in your mouth later." The Joe Bob stared at the face in horror. "I don't want to be a woman!" "Did she ask you to fuck her, Joe Bob?" Sue-Ann asked. "Did she tell you not once but three times to reconsider? Instead you beat her and raped her. Of course her penance was done when you did. She'd avoided people like you for a long time, and while she wasn't happy about that beating, half an hour later, there was no sign of it." "I'll fight you!" "Course you will." She gave a throaty laugh. "Don't you get it? All of us fight at the start. I expect by this time come Sunday you're going to be so desperate to get fucked you'll dive at the first man that comes by. Of course you might be so desperate that you forget that little protection thing, won't you?" "Please..." "She didn't beg because your kind don't understand the term. You think if a woman says no it means 'not this very minute' or 'please fuck me because I want to get fucked'." Her face grew cold. "How many women have begged for you to stop and you fucked them anyway? You may not have the answer on the tip of your tongue, but I do. "Oh, and today was your last day of work. Kind of hard to guarantee that you will not be working for three days of every 29 and a half. Your kid sister Sue-Ann called yesterday. 'Oh my brother has to come to Athens Georgia! Our aunt Belle died, and he has to make all the arrangements! Oh he may be back in town in a few days but the will is going to take forever to work through the courts'!" She gave another laugh. "But if I'm not working what am I going to live on?" he begged. "After over seven thousand years of investing?" She laughed. "I told you, some of those rapist bastards were rich! They hid money to buy what they needed, and when they found out they weren't the only ones who had been cursed, they invested it. Lots of money over the years. Again, the spell compels them to do it. Some would have to become whore if it wasn't for them. "The first night I came out, I sent off a letter. The address, code words, everything are right here." She tapped her head. "I had to buy stuff I wanted using your account, but a week or so ago I got my card." She walked into the living room, picked up the purse, and took out a Platinum Visa card. He watched as she waved it before their eyes, then dropped it returning to the bathroom. "I have access to millions with that. Never see a bill, because it goes to the lawyers that handle the accounts. None of them try to touch the money. A few of the partners are women just like us, and if someone dips into the till, he starts finding dicks dipping into him. We have more money between us than most countries have. "So starving on the street or becoming a whore for real is not required unless you really want to." She shook her head. "Now do you have any other questions? Because I have to get ready." She waved her hand in front of the mirror before he could complain. "If you have any complaints, save them. I don't give a shit about what you don't want to do. Just like you didn't give a shit when you fucked that woman. "Now shut up, and let me work." She showered, and he got a good look at his new body. The tits were huge on this frame. "Why am I so... big up there?" She washed her legs. "Because you have a tit fetish like a lot of guys. You want something huge, so you got your wish. Just not the way you thought you would." She washed her legs, and he felt her mouth grin as she noticed that he was looking at the smooth legs and armpits. "Lucky for both of us the spell changed about a century ago to include shaving legs and armpits. Otherwise I'd have to shave every night, and you'd have to put up with the hair growing back every morning." She picked up the make-up case, and opened it. "Oh yeah, you'll find you know how to use this, and how to curl your hair and all of that. It's imprinted in the spell. But there are only two settings for it. Either slut or sedate." She began applying the make up, humming to herself. He had watched his mother and sisters put on make up before, but never from this perspective. She had a delicate touch, and when she was done had put on a lot less than his sisters ever had. She uncapped the lipstick, and spread it on, pursing the lips to assure that it was even. Then she went into the bedroom. First she took every uniform down and packed them in a garment bag, and stuck them up on the shelf, shoving the male clothes off to one side. "Everything on that side is now yours. If you slide anything over to the other side, you will find that you've destroyed it while I was in." She took down a black dress, then opened the drawers, pulling out underwear. It was all black and seductive. She slid on a garter belt, and sat down. She slid on the stockings, and stood to attach them to the garter belt. Then she slid up the panties and clipped the bra in front and spun it around. "What is it with you and god-damned udders?" she complained. "If you'd though of legs instead of tits I could be tall and slender. But no, you have to dream something the size of fucking mountains." She cupped each breast, and assured they were in the bra cups. She flicked her finger across each nipple, and shuddered as he watched. "Feels good though, don't it?" She walked to the closet and sighed. "Don't thank me for the selection." She waved at the clothes. The longest skirt would have hit about mid thigh, and most hit higher than that. "You're the one that thinks all women are whores, so I had to use what you thought a woman should wear." She turned back to the little black dress. He could visualize it on that body, and as she slid it on, he could tell visualizing it didn't do the dress justice. It fit like a second skin, and the narrow straps wouldn't have covered a bra strap. "I predict that the first week you're walking around in these come fuck me clothes and shoes, you're going to start dressing like a librarian." She said. "Not to mention back pains, menstrual cramps, having to moisturize every fucking night even when you're a guy because if you don't you'll be a bitch with tits zits a yeast infection and smelling like you've been fucked because you don't shower often enough as it is." She stood in the bathroom, looking at herself in the mirror. "The only thing worse than have to get fucked every night of that tine is going to be begging some guy to fuck the skank you become if you don't clean up right." She slid on a pair of four inch heels, then clicked through the house to pick up her purse. "Now, we go out and get you laid for the first time." "I don't want to!" "Joe Bob, you have a choice. You can think it, because I can answer the same way. Second, like I said before, I don't give a shit what you want."