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TheodoreKent
Member for: 2.4 years

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15
Behind the 7-11 Dumpster     (whatever)

submitted by TheodoreKent to whatever 1.7 years ago

33 comments

She was a real treat, a fine dame of a woman.

Slightly chubby, with wrinkles beginning to form about the outside of her eyes, and hair that looked like it was once well cared for.

She wore tight booty shorts and fishnet stockings, along with a long-sleeved punk rock t-shirt.

The standard uniform of that girl who had self-esteem and daddy issues in high school, got kind of good looking and desirable in her 20's, and hasn't realized how much she has let herself go yet. She'll realize soon enough.

I'll make sure of that.

We'd been walking ever since we left the bar together to go get food, and a refill for her Juul pod.

I threw away my cigarette and moved to kiss her.

She tasted like stale nicotine and Burger King.

One of her hands wrapped around the back of my head and forced my mouth into hers even harder, like she was trying to forcefully display a sort of impromptu passion she could no longer feel. I'm not sure if she was trying to seduce me, or convince herself that she could still feel anything after spending the past 10 years riding cock indiscriminately without ever having a single meaningful relationship.

I didn't care, how could I?

The pussy was easy, and lacked consequence. And I had better plans.

I shoved her against the dumpster, and put my hand on her shoulders, gently, but firmly, pushing them down, giving the not so subtle implication that I wanted her on her knees. She didn't resist in the slightest, willing going down, and preparing to unzip my fly.

That was when I knew I had to strike. This was gonna be sweet. I was gonna hurt her, hurt her really badly, and leave her right behind this dumpster, all alone to wallow in pain by herself.

Right as she was about to pull out my cock, I reached into my back pocket, and she watched my hand with horror.

I pulled out my wallet.

"Is 20$ enough? I don't have that much cash on me, but I can go use the ATM if you need me to."

I began to rifle through my wallet and could the bills I had.

She was stricken with terror.

"What? I am not a hooker!!!"

She seemed incredibly offended, just as was my intention.

"Oh, so sorry! It was just the way you dressed, and the fact that you were about to blow me behind a dumpster in the 7-11 parking lot, I mean, I just assumed, eh, I guess this is kind of awkward, but you could see how I could make that mistake, righttt???"

Every word cut into her deeper and deeper as she came to a rapid moment of self realization. Tears began to well up in her eyes.

Oh, well, sorry about the miscommunication. Here is something for your troubles.

I dropped 15 dollars on the ground, and walked away.

She cried, and picked up the bills.


https://open.substack.com/pub/theodorekentwallace/p/behind-the-dumpster-of-the-7-11?r=1vlklp&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web
2
Show it to Me, Part I     (whatever)

submitted by TheodoreKent to whatever 1.7 years ago

5 comments

"Baby, I was thinking..." She cooed to him, her voice raised just half an octave higher than usual. It was that sweet voice women put on when they want something from a man, that feigning tone of playful defenselessness that implies they can't take care of themselves, and only ***her*** man is strong enough to provide what ***she*** wants. And it was cute, it really was.

"Oh, you were thinking?" Smoke from his cigarette rose around him and looked as silky as his voice sounded. His voice was nearly as high as hers, and he sounded effeminate. Normally she never would've liked this in a man, but it fit so well with him, watching him sit there in his red velvet reading chair, covered in his black satin robe, reading *The Idiot* as if it were the most sophisticated man in the world.

She sprawled across the bed, naked underneath the down comforter except for her black lace panties, stretching one arm out above her head like a yawning cat. Her short dark hair was thick and tousled about, and her large brown eyes looked like deep wells of innocence, trusting and prey-like, as if a young doe was approaching a hunter in a field. She has a hint of dark circles underneath him, contrasting with her nearly perfect porcelain skin. She was as beautiful as a woman could be.

"I was just thinking, it is such a gloomy day outside, and here we are, on a Saturday morning, doing almost nothing at all. And there is that place, the one you always talk about going to, and I know, I know it isn't a place you like going to, but, well, it isn't a place I've ever been to, and, well, I just get so curious about it. Won't you... Show it to me?"

He smirked, and his lips parted for a moment, as if he was somewhat taken aback by the absurdity of her request, and looked down at her in playful faux condescension.

“That is not an easy place to get to.” He eyed up her and down, marveling at her audacity.

“You’ve told me this before, and I know how hard it is to get in. But I have been working on myself, inside and out. I’ve been meditating, and fasting, and I know what to say now when certain questions are asked of me. I even know when to not answer a question that shouldn’t be answered, even if they make it seem innocent and inconsequential.” She put her head towards him, and dug her chin down into the mattress, so only her eyes were visible, looking up towards him like a sad puppy that didn’t know why it was being punished.

She knew what strings she was plucking at in heart, and he knew too, and enjoyed having them plucked.

“You’re going to meet some that I do business with. You won’t like them, just like I don’t like them. It is a sad fact that knowing them, and transacting with them, is what provides, well, all of this…” He gestured to their surroundings.

“I know, I know you hate them, and I am sure I will hate them too. Just, the way you describe your work, it all sounds so fascinating. I want to see it. I think it would help me, just knowing how real it is. Because I have an image of it inside my head, but I know it isn’t accurate, and it might help ground me a little more, knowing how much you do for us, all the awful things you have to deal with…” Her hand reached out for his, her fingers spread, asking to be embraced…

He closed his book and put out his cigarette.

“Let’s get you in a bath, and I’ll take you there.”


15
Void Nullification and Entropy Brothels     (whatever)

submitted by TheodoreKent to whatever 1.7 years ago

10 comments

Physics was never meant to be a Theological Tool,
Until,
God-Willing,
God-Given,
Pfizer-granted us Techno-Academic Rule,

Blasphemous Professors fucking witless post-grads,
In their surgically regendered post-operative g'nads,
Studying non-existent and elusive quantum particles,
While citing Gender Theory academic journal articles,

The links are tenuous,
But the thoughts are bold,
Scientific consensus,
Is here to be sold,

The Head of the English Department is out on Sabbatical,
So keep you treasonous essays violently radical,
And dont worry if your poems turn out, ungrammatical...
15
My name is Theodore Kent and I am posting from the basement of a sober house, eating ice cream.     (introductions)

submitted by TheodoreKent to introductions 1.9 years ago

48 comments

The ice cream is real good. Got it from the shop down the block, owned by some old-school working class Italians, run by what I can only assume are high school aged grand children and their friends. Cash only.

I got a cookies and cream and tipped 'em two dollars. They were closing up shop for the night, so they gave me a bag full of soft pretzels that I did not want, but to refuse their generosity would've been rude, and I am always polite.

I have heard about this website before, but never really gave it a chance, because my exit from Voat always left a bad taste in my mouth. I am curious, though. I am assuming this place is not run by that interminable faggot @puttitout, but I am not really basing that on anything.

Who does run this place? How is this place different from Voat, or Poal for that matter?

And most importantly, how are you doing today?