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My New Face; Roulette RP
Topic Started: Jan 20 2011, 05:41 PM (57 Views)
BBD
"Beautiful"
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]

I never understood the point of blogging, as they say. Do I, the reader, care what you, the author, have to say about whatever subject you’re writing about? Simple answer, no. A more elaborate answer, fuck no!

I mean, what in the world could a guy like Reaper, my new bunk mate, say that would possibly hold any interest to me? Maybe if he talked about how amazing I am and how he wishes he could be me, but after rooming with him the past few days, I can tell, he’ll keep those envious thoughts buried deep inside, forcing them down like the bile that rises in your throat when you see something horrendous and grotesque. I mean, it’s to be expected, when you’re as awesome and amazing as yours truly. When you’ve spent your entire career making a certain name for yourself, you’ve spent your time paying your dues, climbing that ladder rung after rung, but then you meet a guy of my caliber. A guy that’s better than you on every level. Looks, skill, charisma, drinking, drugs, women, you name it, I’m better than you at it!

What does that do to your psyche?

The question remains, why do people blog? Are they really that self absorbed to think that people actually care about what they have to say? And if that’s the case, why haven’t I “blogged” sooner? I mean, I’m “Beautiful” Bobby Dean for Christ’s sake! There’re countless people out there that are dying to hear what I’ve got to say, I owe it to them to blog.

So, now I’ve just got to figure out what to blog about? I could blog about what a douche bag Reaper is, but that’s common knowledge and a sentiment expressed by anyone who’s (un)lucky enough to spend more than five minutes with the one eyed asshole. Arg matey!

I could write about how awesome I am, but really I don’t want to be too redundant and as they say, beat a dead horse. So what could I say that would 1. Entice the reader, 2. Entertain me, the writer, and 3. Kill some time before I hit the streets looking for that lucky lady of the night? Or, should I say lady of the early morning, as it’s about 5 in the morning as of this writing.

I’ve got it! I can discuss the pros and cons of anal sex! Who wouldn’t want to read that!?

Pro:
It’s awesome!

Con:
None…

Pro:
It’s tighter than a fist! Unless it’s Reaper’s mom, of course.

Con:
… None.

Pro:
Most women hate it and refuse to do it. Lucky for me I “slip” quite often. I blame my bad eyes, I’m near sighted if you didn’t know and sometimes my aim is off just a hair.

Con:
… Uhm… None.

Pro:
Reaper’s mom absolutely LOVES it!

Con:
I’ve sadly had sex with Reaper’s mom…

So with that, this is the “Name that Entertains” “Beautiful” Bobby Dean, endorsing anal sex, signing off!


I post the first of hopefully many blogs to my site and am quite surprised to see a new message appear in the top corner of the screen. Clicking the little envelope a new window appears announcing that I’ve got a new subscriber to my blog. A female by the name of “Beautiful Momma”.

“Oh cool.” I say out loud with a smile on my face.

“Will you shut up!?” Reaper calls out from his bed across the room. “It’s like six in the morning you faggot! All I hear is click click click click click click click click click click (pause for intake of breath) click click click click click click… You get the point…”

“My mom just subscribed to my blog.” I say ignoring his surly attitude and continuing as if he actually cared.

“So?” He asks falling inadvertently into a conversation with yours truly. “What? Now you have two subscribers, big deal. I’ve got hundreds, if not thousands that read mine daily!”

“No, I’ve only got just the one.” I inform him sullenly. “I tried to subscribe myself, but they said you can’t because it’s your blog… So it’s just my mom, but she’s always been my biggest fan.”

“You really are quite pathetic you know?” Reaper says before rolling over and turning his back to me. “Now cut the shit and let me sleep.”

“Aye aye captain!” I can’t help but say, referencing the fact that he wears an eye patch and looks like a wannabe ass pirate. Well the ass part is true, because he is in fact a big, giant, gaping ass hole and I despise him but I digress.

Simply ignoring my insolence Reaper is soon snoring away, leaving me in the corner of the hotel room at the desk staring at the screen of my laptop. Within seconds moaning and grunting can be heard throughout the room as a porno begins to play. Isn’t the internet wonderful?

Reaper, with a growl, suddenly rears back and chunks a pillow across the room where it collides against my head. “Didn’t I tell you before!? No spanking it when I’m in the room!”

“Would you mind leaving?” I ask as one of my hands begins its trek south of the border.

“No.” Reaper says in response as he gets accustomed to lying in his bed without the aid of his now discarded pillow.

“Oh awesome, I knew you wouldn’t mind.” I say as I rise off the seat just long enough to drop my baby blue boxer briefs. Sitting back down in the buff ready to do some good ole fashion self loving.

“I meant no, as in, I’m not leaving!” Reaper says, again with that ever constant growl of his. “And you better not have just done what I think you did! If I look up and you’re naked, I swear I’m going to cut that tiny prick of yours right off!”

“If you think this is tiny, I’m a bit scared to think what you think is big.” I exclaim in astonishment as I continue to focus on the porno playing out in front of me.

Suddenly an arm snakes around my neck and I immediately think about the craze some people call “choke off” the act of choking oneself while masturbating. Of course I’ve never done it before, but I’ve heard some pretty incredible thing, but again, I’ve never done it… … … Did I say, I’ve never done that before? Because I haven’t…

But as Reaper’s arm tightens itself more and more around my neck, I begin to wonder if this is in fact a choke off… I mean, the menacing growl coming from Reaper doesn’t tend to bode too well to me, on top of the fact that the tighter his grip is around my neck the more numb and unresponsive my hand is to my commands of “pump faster! Faster! Faster!” I can’t think too much of it for very long though as the oxygen that was on its way to my brain stops coming and I’m slowly blacking out. Mmmmm. Unconsciousness, a blissful sensation, I must admit.

When I come to I find myself slumped on the floor, still naked, a throbbing dull pain building in the back of my head. Wiping the drool from the corner of my mouth I slowly rise to my knees, head turning, eyeing the empty room. No Reaper. I climb to my feet and make my way to the bathroom, when I get there I almost pass up the mirror to the toilet, but stop as I noticed a funky reflection. Looking a bit more intently at myself I see Reaper had a bit of fun of his own, at my expense of course.

Let’s see, a penis ejaculating itself sits across my scar free cheek, with the discharge heading towards my mouth. Classy. An obscene word is written backwards across my forehead so that it is legible for when I look in the mirror. Kudos. A pair of balls resting on my chin rounds it out, which I have to admit, is a bit over kill considering the giant penis on my cheek and all. But overall I’m impressed with his artistry.

Sighing, I walk over to the toilet and proceed to take the longest pee in the history of pee. In actuality it was over rather quickly, but to me, it felt like a long time. Jumping in the shower, I begin to scrub and scrub and scrub as much as I can but once my shower is complete I curse to myself as the penis and balls on my chin still remain.

Wrapped in a towel, I make my way out of the bathroom and towards my nearby luggage, but am stopped as a plain package, which apparently had already been open sits on my bed, a note attached to it.

“Hey fuck stick, this was waiting for you down stairs. Have fun haunting operas, you pathetic piece of shit.”

Of course, signed “Reaper”.

Tearing the box open, once again, I’m giddy as a school girl as I see my newest arrival. I pull it out of the box and smile as I inspect it, turning it over in my hands, feeling the straps and then finally donning it for the first time. Walking to the bathroom I stop and look, once more at the reflection staring back at me. Somehow the penis and half a nut sack still penciled on my face does not tarnish the image before me.

Posted Image

My new face. The scar, hidden behind the baby blue mask, the straps wrapping around my face holding the mask in place, I smile, happy to see my radiant smile unhindered by the mask.

“”Beautiful” Bobby Dean, is “beautiful” once again!” I say with a little Mary Tyler Moore spin of happiness, but am stopped once again dead in my tracks as half way through my third rotation I spy Reaper standing there with a bemused expression on his face.

“I’ve really got to get a new room.” He says bitterly before turning and storming out, slamming the door shut behind him.


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