Here's a final degrading story about a complete scumbag "writer", & his scumbag "writer" friend. He basically got off on raping a mentally ill daughter of an alleged friend. It has to be possible to give consent. Little did these retarded monkeys know that a real writer will be honest. David McLean helped me to reassemble these traumatic memories. David & i are so delighted by our recent work that all the below pieces of faction are appearing in a book, like today. Links forthcoming shortly.
Not an ex, but a complete scumbag that I encountered, a guy who coerced me into sex, was an alleged writer who had worked with my father, was a friend of the family, known me since I was a baby, & been an FBI agent. Pseudonymously appearing here as John Lego, nameless asshole, he wrote worthless thrillers & was friends with another FBI agent called Joe Pisser, AKA Pisstone in Fragments.
Joe Pisser wrote a thriller & the story of his career had given rise to a crappy & very popular Hollywood gangster film. As a female writer I was insecure, & felt that I needed an agent. Pisstone asked me if I had ever been in a penthouse. He asked first if I liked giving blowjobs, expecting me to pay for a ticket to New York to blow him. I basically told Pisstone to piss off, though my degraded state let me talk to his grotesque friend on the phone prior to this, while these worthless pieces of shit lived in New York City, constantly betraying their wives.
Degradation, however, is a strange thing. I felt compelled to give blowjobs & fuck, it was like a disease, & basically I did so with the worst human garbage imaginable, after being forced to give a stupid kid a blowjob when i was in high school, at the age of fifteen. I thought I was bleeding, I didn’t know what come was. I told him early on that I didn’t want to give blowjobs anymore but he threatened to beat me up. I even tried to get out of this by letting my parents see what was happening, though they didn’t care what happened to me, & this kid went on to victimize me for four years. Naturally, I became a lesbian.
The other piece of shit writer was the family friend, John Lego. As a child, when I lived on a boat with my parents & had unclear memories that my psychologist at Tufts thought were a result of child sex abuse, Lego had been left to look after me by my parents when they went to collect psychedelic mushrooms at sunrise. This makes me very suspicious. Anyway, he started writing to me & calling & asked to meet me at my apartment to fuck me. I was very mentally ill then, very degraded, working as a whore, & consented, though I bitterly regret this. His body odor was the worst i have ever smelled - pungent, disgusting, & foul. The sleazebag basically demanded to get his greasy little cock sucked. I have partly repressed the incident as it was basically a rape, but what I remember best is the dreadful stench. This scumbag, devoid of talent, with a mediocre cock & no skills, had a peculiar & loathsome stench reminiscent of a desert pig, a javelina. He treated me worse than any other john ever, & was abusive & gross in every way. He had visited my parents when I was a baby, so his behavior is basically unforgivable. He left directly after, he also broke with my parents after this, maybe from shame though a subhuman like that probably feels no shame (I did get an agent through this scumbag, who was also another kind of worthless scumbag, but this agent just wasted eighteen years by not doing anything, even being unable to write grammatical cover letters.)
Lego worked in a gross strip club in Phoenix too, & had previously got me a job as a whore there, so felt entitled to a blowjob. I only worked one day, even degraded as I was, with no self-respect & feeling violated by this greasy shithead, I couldn’t bring myself to work there as a stripper, or whore as they are technically known, more than that one day. Strippers are basically worse than whores, in that the whore who fucks & sucks is basically more traumatized & is revictimizing herself, as I did. Strippers, who only strip, are often basically scumbags; they lack the whore’s etiology, though they look down on whores as if they were better.
I hate these men. I was unable to come with a man until I was forty-six, only very recently.