| Sex Addiction: Life As An Addict; Showdown Roleplay #1 | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jan 15 2008, 03:22 AM (205 Views) | |
| Kelly Flawless | Jan 15 2008, 03:22 AM Post #1 |
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sVo Legend
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SEX ADDICTION: LIFE AS AN ADDICT CHAPTER I: COMPULSIVE SEXUAL BEHAVIOR “It’s okay. You’re safe here. You can admit that you have a problem – we won’t judge you.” “I’m not a sex addict.” “There’s nothing to be afraid of. We’re all friends. I’m only here to help you get better.” “I’m not a sex addict.” “Kelly, the first step to getting help is admitting to yourself that you have a problem.” “I’m not a sex addict.” “Say it with me, son; I. Have. A. Problem.” “I’m not a sex addict.” “I. Am. A. Sexual. Addict,” the psychiatrist paused as Kelly peered at him offhandedly, “I am addicted to sex. Now you try it.” “Okay, doc, look,” Kelly retorted, perceptibly operating on a short fuse, “sex does not control me; I don’t think about sex all day, everyday; I don’t walk around, bumping into people with a hard-on wherever I go; I am not addicted to sex. I like to pound a vag now and again, yeah, but what self-respecting human being doesn’t? I’m sure you like to diddle the odd twat every once in a while – don’t you? I don’t sit around in my living room, dreaming up elaborate fantasies about humping movie stars, or fictional characters; I don’t lie awake at night stroking it to thoughts of railing thousands of strippers, while “making it rain” with hundred dollar bills. I don’t have an obsession, a compulsion, or an addiction – I just like to hammer a sweaty poon once in a while. Can you get that through your gigantic, incompetent, PhD-having brain?” “Okay, let’s try something a little different,” the doctor began, purposefully ignoring Kelly’s response. “I’m going to hold up a piece of paper with a picture on it; you tell me what you see.” He elevated a square piece of poster board in front of him, looking on in anticipation as Kelly studied the image. “I see a chick with huge tits.” “... Okay.” The psychiatrist placed the image on his desk and quickly pulled out another square piece of poster board. “What do you see now?” “I see a chick with small tits.” The psychiatrist studied Kelly astutely as he brought forth another image. “Tell me what you see.” “I see a chick with medium-sized tits,” Kelly paused, confusion spread across his face. “What’s your point, doc?” “Kelly, do you see what we’re getting at here?” “No – I really don’t.” “Okay,” the psychiatrist paused, almost at a loss for words. “Last image – tell me what you see.” “I see a man,” Kelly began. “He’s holding something in his right hand...” Flawless focused harder on the poster board. “It’s a – it’s a stethoscope. And he’s pounding some chick with huge tits. You’re a kinky fuck, doc.” “Kelly, you have a problem.” “Whoa, whoa, whoa; I think you’re the one with the problem. You’ve got all these pictures in here of these topless girls getting their shit banged by doctors. Is there something you want to tell me, doc? Are you obsessed with pounding chicks with gigantic tits?” “You’re missing the point, Kelly.” “No, I think you’re missing the point. Okay, I like sex – I like sex a lot. You could even say I LOOOVE sex. I enjoy blowing my load all over the mug of some pretty little blonde girl, and, sometimes, I like to make it rain on strippers. SOMETIMES. But it doesn’t consume me. Pounding vag doesn’t compel me; I like it a normal... average... ordinary amount. It’s what I like to do. It’s my hobby. You must have a hobby. Aside from drawing up these pictures of you railing big titted black girls – that’s a black girl right?” The psychiatrist looked at Flawless in utter shock. Kelly was actually crazy. To hell with sex addiction, dude’s got real problems. “Sex is my poker game; sex is my fishing boat. But, instead of rakin’ in the chips, or reelin’ in the fish, I like to cast my rod, and post my big (really big) blind into some young, moist, supple, nasty, filthy, whorebag vageeeeennn. Comprende, Mr. PhD?” ... “Get out.” “Fine,” Kelly stood up from his chair, preparing to leave. “I’m gonna hit the titty bar. You wanna join me? There’s a really nice black chick I think you’d like. Her name’s Slappy. Don’t let the name throw you off – she’s very gentle. And she’s got nipples the size of softballs. A black broad with monstrous nips – that seems to be what you’re into.” “Get out, Kelly.” “Come on, doc – first lap dance is on me. You can even make it rain on the bitch. Nothing reassures your masculinity like making it rain all over some two-bit stripper named Slappy. Come on, doc - IT’S POON TIME! We’re going to Pussyville, and you’re the fuckin’ mayor. The forecast predicts it to be WET. ALL. NIGHT. LONG.” “GET OUT!” “STRIPPERS, BIATCH~!” ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- CHAPTER II: AND GOD SAID, MAKE IT RAIN, MAKE IT RAIN, MAKE IT RAIN ON THEM HOES “Ahhhhhhh! Bitches luuuuuvvv me!” Sitting on a chair, high atop the public level of an unnamed strip club was Kelly Flawless. He was surrounded by upwards of ten scantily clad women rubbing their titties ALLLLL up in his face. There were nipples bouncin’, bills flyin’, and more sweaty poon than you could shake a stick at. “You, the one with tits,” Kelly called out in a drunken slur to the stripper occupying one of the room’s polls about fifteen week away. “How much for YOU to blow me?” The filthy stripper could only manage a smile as Kelly rocked his head back, slipping into a state of unimaginable bliss and pure inebriation. He was in his happy place: about 12 drinks deep surrounded by a bunch of dancing, buck naked, greased up borderline prostitutes. And it was only one o’clock in the afternoon – there were still countless hours left on his Vegas-based, booze soaked, titty excursion, and he was determined to make the most of it. And that’s when a familiar face walked through the door. “They told me that I could find you here.” Phil Mickelson (no, not that Phil Mickelson), Kelly’s agent, stood at the entrance to the club’s VIP room adorned in a Hugo suit and gator skin shoes – typical. “Wow, Phil,” Kelly said, pushing bitches away from him as if it were his job, soaked in alcohol, his hair and clothing a mess, drool seeping from the mouth (should I go on?). “You look like shit.” The two shared a smile and then embraced in an incredibly manly hug. You know the kind of hug that you give one of your best buddies that you haven’t seen in a while? Not the ass out awkward hug, but the strong hug, with the emphatic double back pat, and then the quick step back. Yeah, that kind of hug – no gay shit. These were men – real men. Fucking Grizzly Adams’ beard, Clint Eastwood type’a men. Not Jude Law, Heath Ledger men. No homos, folks. “How ya been, buddy?” Phil said, as the two took a seat, watching the girls slowly begin to surround the superstar once again. “Good. I’ve been good,” Kelly began, before averting his attention to the mob of strippers at his disposal. “Hold on, Phil – watch this.” “Bitches,” Flawless barked as the strippers paid little attention. “BITCHES! SLUTS! WHATEVER THE FUCK IT IS YOU ANSWER TO!” Some of the girls looked up toward the Blonde Bomber as they continued to shake their titties about. “There we go. Now that I have your attention, jiggle your shit for Phil. He’s probably had a long flight; the motherfucker came all the way from New York, for God’s sake. He’s a big city man. So dance your big ass titties all up in his face!” Flawless grinned toward Phil who averted his stare toward the floor, clearly a tad embarrassed. “SHAKE YOUR SHIT, WHORE!” Flawless screamed at a girl who stood in front of Phil, evidently not dancing at par with Flawless’s standards. “Fucking sluts. I’m paying you good money to do next to nothing, now start fucking earning it, or next time I come in here I’m gonna leave my bills at home, and I’ll make it rain with bricks and kittens. But not cute, cuddly kittens... vicious kittens; kittens that I’ve beat and tortured. Kittens that don’t eat cat food; kittens that eat computer hardware and dilapidated plywood. THESE KITTENS ARE HARD AS FUCK. So buck up,” Flawless digressed, “DAMN. Sluts.” “Anyway, Phil,” Kelly began again, “what’s goin’ on these days? I’ve missed you buddy.” For the record, Phil has been Flawless’s agent since Kelly broke into ACW. Recently though he has taken some time off, turning over all of Kelly’s business affairs to his son, Enron. Yes, that’s a real fucking name. “Not much, Kell. Took a little time off, went to the Gulf for a bit. Just relaxed.” “Well, are you fucking ready to party or what?” Phil started to chuckle uncomfortably. “You know that I’m not the hardcore party type, Kelly.” “Well at least let me buy you a lap dance. You still like black girls? I’ll get you a black girl. Hey, Slappy - get your bitch ass over-“ Phil abruptly cut Kelly off. “No, no, no – no black girls for me, thanks.” “Oh,” Kelly said, a little discouraged. “You want an Asian? There aren’t any up here – they’ve got fucked up nips. I don’t like ‘em, but I can get one up here. Hey, Slappy – scratch the lap dance, go find me an Asian bit-“ again Mickelson cut him off. “No, no – no Asian girls, Kelly. I’m alright.” “Well, what the fuck, man? If an old friend offers to buy you a lap dance, you tell the man what type of girl you want and you kindly oblige!” Flawless scorned. “What happened to you, Phil? I know you were never the hardcore party type but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you say no to a lap dance. You used to be the dirty motherfucker that would take a lapper from any mangy, disgusting piece of cunt that was dancing in the vicinity. We’d all be sitting at the bar getting pissed and you’d be in the next room feeling up God knows what just so you had something to jerk it to back at the hotel.” Again the two shared a laugh, but there was something that Phil wasn’t revealing; and Kelly saw right through him. “What’s wrong with you, Phil?” Flawless’s tone evolved; concern resonating from his lips. “You aren’t sick or something, are you?” “Kell,” Phil paused, his voice cracking slightly. “My-“ He paused again, as if he was choking on his words. “They’ve-“ “Phil, just say it,” Kelly attempted to ease his friend and his agent’s mind. “There’s no judgement here. We go way back, and these bitches – man, they don’t give a shit. These bitches blow dudes and read the newspaper. They’re smart enough to keep their noses out of our shit. See that little white girl there?” Kelly pointed to a petite little slut across the room. “She can suck dick and solve a Rubik’s cube. She’s an intelligent little bitch. She reads USA Today. And she reads Playboy – for the fucking ARTICLES. No judgement.” Phil sighed. “Kelly,” he began, again, “they took- they took my nuts, man.” Flawless stared blankly, dumfounded. “They...” he paused. “They took your nuts? Who took your nuts?” Kelly was unsure of what to make of Mickelson’s news. “Wow. I’ve heard of VCRs and TVs and shit, but DAMN – niggers will steal anything!” “No, Kelly! Niggers didn’t take my nuts. It was the doctors, man. I had a cancer.” “Wait. Of all the doctors in the world that are capable of taking your nuts, why did you pick a nigger?” Flawless asked, completely befuddled. “KELLY! For fuck’s sake; it wasn’t niggers. It wasn’t a nigger doctor. It was a regular doctor. An M.D.; he took my nuts. I was diagnosed with cancer. That’s why I took that leave of absence from the firm.” Flawless was almost at a loss for words – he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Phil, you were one of the horniest bastards I’ve ever met. Fuck. This isn’t fair. There was more pressure in those nuts than in a fucking fire hydrant. That nigger that took ‘em out is probably missing an eyeball. BOOOOOOM~! See ya later, Phil’s nuts; see ya later nigger’s eye. SHIT,” Kelly was awestruck. “It must’ve been like the Challenger exploding. GOD DAMN.” Flawless offered Mickelson an awkward, reassuring pat on the back. Some nasty ass skank slut in the background clearly didn’t understand her place in ‘Kelly Flawless’s order of sluts, bitches, skanks, strippers, whores, and Kelly Flawless’: “You lost your nuts?” HA! She laughed mockingly, keeling over and slapping her knees, her titties bouncing up and smacking her in the face. Kelly turned his head slowly toward the nasty ass stripper. “BITCH,” God’s Gift to Women began. “What did you just say?” Bitch shut up fast. “Bitch, tell me again, WHAT. YOU. JUST. SAID.” Flawless got up from his seat and made a beeline for the skank ass whore. “I- I- uh, I- uh...” she could hardly muster words. “You, uh, uh, uh, you, uh,” Kelly mocked. “YOU MADE FUN OF MY FRIEND’S EMPTY BALLSACK! THAT’S WHAT YOU SAID!” Flawless threw his arms up in anger, nearly backhanding the girl, but thinking better of it. “Apologize,” Kelly scolded. “I’m- I’m... Sor-“ the whore was abruptly cut off. “SPAAAAAARRRRRTTTTTAAAAAA~!” Flawless whaled. He kicked that bitch in the fucking HEAD. NOBODY JOKES ABOUT PEOPLE LOSING THEIR BALLS – NOBODY. “Let that be a lesson to all of you other bitches. Nuts are a sacred thing; they’re to be valued, they’re to be treasured. Next time you whores get the opportunity to be in the presence of a nice pair of nuts you better give ‘em a lick for Phil,” Kelly nodded emphatically. “Give ‘em a lick for Phil.” “It’ll be alright buddy,” he spoke softly, returning to Mickelson’s side. “Hey, on the bright side, at least you’ll never get blue balls again. Haaaaaaaaaa... Haha... Haaaa... Ha........................... Haaaaaaaaaaaaaa.” ... Awkward. =X To Be Continued. |
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"Kelly Flawless is the fucking man. He's so over that even when he no shows for a match, he still wins. That's how much ass Kelly Flawless kicks. Jon's word processor will not allow him to type the phrase, '____ def. Kelly Flawless'. It's sacrilegious, it's blasphemous, it's fucking impossible." - Kelly Flawless | |
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6:54 PM Jul 11