JudgementsChapter 63 free porn video

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"Come in," Shawna said and reluctantly stood aside to let Marcus' father in the door.

"Thank you."

He seemed contrite, at least, and a little nervous as he crossed to the sitting area, passing Marcus to settle into the armchair.

"Morning, Marcus."

"Morning," Marcus replied, forcing his hands to be still as he looked up. "How are you?"

"I'm OK now, thanks."

Shawna sat beside Marcus, and Hope followed a few seconds later with the tea tray, setting it on the table.

"Did... Did you get a chance to look at the brochure I gave you?"

"Yes," Marcus confirmed, staring at the teapot.

"What did you think?"

"I don't know," Marcus admitted, after a long pause. "I... I want to be... I want to be able to look around and know what people are thinking, to know what people want, to not make a complete arse of myself. But I've made a life for myself with who I am. I don't want to risk that."

"There's no reason to think that you'll risk that," Travers argued, leaning forward a little.

"Well, I don't like it at all," Shawna put in.

"Big surprise there," Travers said. "I'm sorry. All I'm saying is that if it were anyone else suggesting it you'd at least listen."

"I listened," Shawna countered, not backing down. "To do what you want, this programme would have to change how he thinks, and how we think is who we are. This is a programme intended for early intervention. It's there for kids. Marcus has developed his own coping mechanisms, his own way of dealing with the various stresses and demands of life, and you can't change those without changing something fundamental about him.

"He's... He's vulnerable, and he needs a small circle of close friends, and we work well together because of that. If you take that vulnerability away..."

"You want him desperate and needy so that he'll stay?"

"Fuck you!"

"Enough," Hope called out, reaching across Marcus to pat Shawna's arm. "Enough."

Travers turned to Hope. "At least you'll have given the idea a fair hearing,"

Hope reached for a folder of papers on the table.

"I... I read up about this."

"Me too," Marcus noted.

"You read the brochure," Hope pointed out, pointing to where it lay on the table, "I read about it on the net."

"They're not allowed to lie in brochures."

"No, they're not, but they can shade the truth in their favour," Hope answered, flipping the top of her folder open and reading from the top sheet. "I quote... 'any systematic effort aimed at instilling certain attitudes and beliefs in a person... in conflict with the person's prior beliefs and knowledge... '"

"That sounds a little harsh, I wouldn't have phrased it like that, but I can see how you'd look at it like that," Travers said, when she paused for comment.

"Right, how about 'methodologies of persuasion used in the reconstruction of... thought-patterns'."

"That one's a little vague, but..." He offered when she stared at him again.

"Essentially, they run a system whereby 'acceptable' behaviours are rewarded, and 'unacceptable' behaviours are punished, right?"

"That's how I understand it."

"Those quotes are from Wikipedia, but they aren't about Applied Behaviour Analysis, they're about brainwashing. ABA doesn't change how you think. It changes how you act. Now for kids that's a grey area, they're still learning by doing, but for adults I don't think this would work.

"I don't like the idea of it for kids. The guy that developed this system, Lovaas, originally used electric shocks on the kids as a form of punishment."

"ABA is not brainwashing," Richards Travers said.

"Really?" Hope flipped a page or so forward. "'ABA can be used to alter virtually any behavior irrespective of its social relevance'. That one is from the ABA article, but it sounds like brainwashing to me. I train you to do what I want, regardless of how you feel about it? Conditioned responses to stimuli?

"It treats people — Marcus — like a robot to be programmed to camouflage himself like everyone else. He's a brave, kind, thoughtful, caring, thinking man, and you're looking to turn him into a puppet."

"It's not like that."

"You don't want it to be like that." Hope's voice was quiet, almost sympathetic. "You want to think that you can do something to make up for everything that happened before, but this isn't it. You can't cure Marcus of being Marcus any more than you cure yourself of being American. I could train the accent out of you, teach you to act as if you liked cricket and hated baseball.

"What I'd be left with, though, would either be someone different to the Richard Travers I started with, or — even worse — the Richard Travers I started with trapped inside someone else's life. If Marcus was unhappy with his life, deeply unhappy, then I might think about suggesting it, because the change might help. But I don't think he is unhappy. He's got friends, he's got passtimes and hobbies, and he's got a girlfriend — even I haven't managed that properly this year.

"If he asked me, I'd recommend him against it."

"I really thought you'd go for this." He stood up, shaking his head, gently. "I... I don't know what to say, Marcus."

"You could ask me what I think," Marcus pointed out, standing up as well.

"I... I just assumed you'd agree with them."

"I don't let them think for me."

"Marcus?" Shawna tensed slightly, but Hope gave her a slight shake of the head as she moved to stand up.

"I do listen to them, though. I've not made up my mind yet. I need to read more into it."

"Then... Then you'll think about it?"

"Of course."

"Mr Travers," Hope said quietly, as she stood up. "I think he means to say that he does appreciate you think you're helping. Shawna and I do, too, even if we don't agree with what you're offering."

"Did you..." Shawna began, then stopped to think about what she wanted to say. "The whole legal thing when you first came back. Was that trying to get him committed to this against his will?"

"No, yes... sort of. It was... I'd had the letters from Nick, but Nick's a romantic, and I had my memories of what Marcus used to be like. I... I couldn't imagine him rationalising his way through a decision like this. When I left him he needed to have decisions made for him."

"When you left me I was seven," Marcus pointed out.

"When I left you, Marcus, you were three or four — mentally at least. When I left you, I left you because I couldn't imagine you would ever be any different. I'm... I'm sorry I was wrong."

"You'd rather I still was mentally a child?"

"No, I mean... I'm sorry I left. I'm sorry that I didn't understand."

"You can't go back and change that," Hope cut in, lifting the brochure from the table. "You just have to move on from here."

"Hey, mum." Shawna settled back onto the bed, winding a tendril of hair around her fingers and chewing her lip.

"Charlotte?"

"No, mum. It's Shawna."

"Oh, I wasn't expecting a call from you."

"Sorry, are you waiting on a call from Lotty?"

"No, not really. It's just she needs a lift more often than you do."

"Ah, right."

"So, is this just you feeling obligated to call your poor old mother, or is there a reason for this."

"Actually, this time, there's sort of a reason."

"Well, just give me a minute while I start the tape for Eastenders."

"You don't have to. I can call back later."

"I can watch that later. I can guarantee that'll be waiting. I'm not risking you changing your mind and getting distracted by things that are far more interesting than talking to your mother."

"Mum!"

"I'm teasing, Shawna. Now, tell me, what's the problem?"

"OK, before we start, let me get everything out of the way. I don't need any money. I'm not in any trouble. I'm not pregnant."

"I wasn't thinking any of those."

"You would have done, soon."

"Perhaps. Much as I know you've changed, darling, history has a habit of repeating itself."

"I... I told Marcus and Hope about Emily this week. I mean, all of it."

"Well, that was... brave. How did he take it?"

"Pretty well. He's angry, but... Well, Mark Williams is beyond his reach now."

"He's suffering somewhere, Shawna."

"That's what I expected Hope to say, but she didn't."

"Are you alright? Would you like to come home for the weekend?"

"No, thanks. I'm fine, really. I mean it's been a long week and there's been a lot to think about, but I think we're through the worst of it."

"So have you been thinking about Emily?"

"It's that time of year again, isn't it? But that's not why I called."

"Oh?"

"Mum... what's... What's my dad like?" There was a long, noticeable pause on the other end of the phone, and Shawna ploughed on rather than let it grow awkward. "It's just Marcus' dad has been here a few times to talk to him, and it's... It's strange, but he seems to be happier about some things now that he knows what happened to him."

"We all know what happened to him," her mother snapped, and Shawna sat up slightly, wondering at the sudden venom in her tone.

"What... You knew him back then, didn't you? Travers, I mean?"

"Well, yes... a little. Not much. Sort of. I knew Alice, really, and Steph. Mainly Steph." She sounded awkward and flustered, and Shawna decided to get back to her original line of enquiry.

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Sid spent the day picking apples and acquired fifteen pinches. He was one pinch short of four quad, when the paymaster called it a day. Dropping off his last basket, he went over to the apple tree with the broken branch. It was almost more than the knife was capable of doing, but he managed to cut the branch from the tree with it. The knife broke when he started to trim the branch. Disgusted, he picked up the pieces of the knife and headed to the temporary camp where the other workers...

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January 30, 1983, McKinley, Ohio “Well isn’t THIS a fine mess,” I sighed. “I didn’t mean to depress you,” Clarissa said. “I was trying to make a point.” “Besides the fact that we’re in love, soulmates, and you’re a lesbian, which kind of makes it all moot?” “Oh, it most definitely does NOT! For someone who has been with at least half-a-dozen girls by my count, you sure have this really stupid mindset about sex! If it was so damned meaningful, you wouldn’t be so free with it! Get your head...

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"So what did you have in mind for today?" Jennifer asked Mark as they sat at breakfast the following morning. "I don't know, what do you suggest? You're the tour guide," he said chuckling. "Well I have a friend with a boat... care to go for a ride?" she suggested. "Sounds like fun," he said. So Jennifer packed them a picnic lunch and they stopped by the local store for some ice. Mark decided to pick up a bottle of wine and they made their way to her friend's house. After securing permission to...

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