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User Journal

Journal Journal: hazards of research 4

I work as a research assisstant for a Psychology lab at a major university. Part of my duties includes running experiments on undergrads. I had just finished running this one experiment on a very attractive young lady. Just when I was moving to thank her for her participation and show her to the door, she interrupts.

"Look, I hate to beg, but I really need some extra credit for psyc 101. If my final grade stinks as much as my current grade, my parents will cut off my allowance. Could you spot me a few extra participation points?"

"I'm sorry, I'm not allowed to do that." What a pathetic grade-grubber.

That's when the brat began sobbing and blubbering. "But I can't fail this class! I got straight A's in highschool! I'll be a disgrace! I -"

"Well, I'm sorry but I can only award credit commensurate with the amount of time you give us. I -"

"What if I give you a blow job?"

Did she just say that? I'd better come up with a generic response if I didn't want to come off soundling like a big pervert in case she hadn't just tried to bribe me with oral pleasure.

"Sure, okay."

"Ten credits, I'll even swallow."


My remaining disbelief disappeared the minute she unzipped my trousers and opened wide. "Little Bobby" was having a thoroughly good time, at first. But then I got a little nibble, and then another.

"Um, could you please stop biting me?"

" I can't help it, my braces only allow me to open my mouth so far."

Braces!?! This chick had braces? I guess The Castle Dental Center's advertised "invisible braces" really held true to their claim. Normally I would have avoided a metal-mouth right off the bat, but I'd been duped by The Castle. Common sense told me, begged me to abort immediately, but I've never been one to pull the pancakes off the griddle before they were done just because a cockroach had fallen into the batter. I was going to complete this transaction.

"ooh! ow! ooooh! ow-OW! oooh! ow!"

Five minutes later, the pancakes were done. My participant attempted to dismount, but something was wrong. My flesh was caught in her braces! I tried to work my pee-pee's way carefully and slowly out of her mouth, but she wouldn't hold still! Suddenly she jerked her head back and a flap of skin tore off. I screamed. She picked her teeth with her pinky nail, said, "Thanks for the credits!" cheerily and walked out.

I lay on the floor in a fetal position, my member bleeding, for an hour or so until a scab had formed. I get my dick cut up on Miss Piranha's maw of death and she gets ten credits?!? But she didn't have the credits yet - I had to award them! I still had control of the situation! Oh sweet revenge! Negative one-hundred for you, bitch!

User Journal

Journal Journal: c0ck

I like cock. In fact, I like it a lot. But don't get me wrong, I'm only talking about my own cock (or dick, or penis, or trouser snake or whatever terminology you prefer. Personally, I prefer "cock" because all the hard "k" sounds shoves the word right in your face. That way you know immediately what you're dealing with. But I digress...). I jerk it whenever I get the chance. In fact, I'm jerkin' it now, you hosers! You see, I work in the subbasement of a building, so there's very little traffic through the area. Plus, I work in my own office, sequestered away in my own little privacy. So I get to spend hours of my boss's time jerkin' it to pregnant midget porn! Whenever I'm jerkin' it on the clock, I say that I'm on the cock clock. And right now the time is 7 jerk o'cock! P.S. Here's a website about my cock.
User Journal

Journal Journal: THC bubble

I'm 23 years old and I live at home with my parents. Okay, so I'm a loser. Shut the fuck up. Last night I stuffed a towel under the door, spritzed apple-cinnamon Odor Absorber(TM) all over myself and smoked pot in my room. I accidentally smoked a little too much, though, because I got FUCKED THE FUCK UP. I only remember setting at my iMac, listening to music and flailing my arms and head around like a madman. Why am I writing about this now? Because I'm at work and I just popped a whopper of a THC bubble. God I'm stoned.

User Journal

Journal Journal: heroine

Tuesday, November 6, 20001.
        Digging through some boxes in the Psychology lab where I work today, I discovered an ancient box full of syringes, heroine, and what looked to be the Rorschact Test. Then I found instructions for an old experiment that had been carried out here in the lab during World War II. Apparently the experimenters hypothesized that if American soldiers were to shell the Germans with artillery shells containing a gaseous form of heroine and then dropped Rorschacht test cards from airplanes, they'd all just fall down into heaps of twitching, high-as-a-kite junkies. Naturally, it all made little sense to me. But then hey, why the hell not try it?
        So after preparing a syringe with the heroine, I pulled down my pants and injected it directly into my penis. Hey, I'm no perv. There's a lot of blood vessels in there just waiting to carry the delicious drug straight to my brain. I guess I should have known better than to inject 60-year-old opioids into my privates, though, because before I could remove the needle I slumped over forward and continued to fall -- all the way INTO one of the Rorschacht Test cards. Then some oddly catchy electronic music kicked in. Where was it coming from? So began Stage 1-1 of my odyssey.

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