Submissive Beauty Wants to be Used III For Obvious Reasons

  Many people feel a good responsible wife and mother would never consider such a thing.
She would starve apparently, before she would ever have an independent idea. A sick, starving lady would just have to make due and die quietly, rather than make a bit of noise, and with a little ingenuity make her home a better place with the funds she brings in for her children.
   With only three jobs so far, just with this ad, I've managed to get both Taylor and Tanya all of their school clothes this year, a pair of shoes for each of them, Oliver's shoes, and half of his school clothes. I've also gotten backpacks for all three of them, and school supplies. Doing all of this, and still saving a little. Every time.
   Before this ad, if I had any outcalls of this kind, it would only be through or with one of several men I met at the club I used to dance at. I had quite a few regulars left after only working there for two years. I had to quit two years ago, I was getting too sick to do the job. I wondered why I bothered with it at all when the possibility to place an ad was always there.
   Sometimes I was even lucky enough to get a job where all I had to do was look pretty and smile just to make an insecure guy feel important at a party or business dinner. Shake hands, pay attention, have intelligent conversation for a few hours for anywhere from six to twelve hundred dollars? Sure, I was down.
  
   For obvious reasons, no one who knew me personally had an inkling of what I do. If people knew- where would that have left my children? What if something happened to me? The kids would’ve always be treated as ‘other’, as that hooker’s brats.
   There were also more immediate reasons.
   Waking up, I sat up disoriented. There was loud music coming from the rest of the trailer, but besides that all I really heard was David’s mouth. His voice was so loud you would think he was at a ball game, not inside his home where people were trying to sleep. It was early on a Wednesday morning. There was school in six hours. Walking with heavy feet, I moved slowly from my bedroom out to the kitchen. Everyone sitting at the table got quiet as if they had just remembered it was the middle of the night.
   Tanya, who had just missed a day from school-with strep throat- was sitting at the table in the cigarette smoke too. She took one look at me standing there watching everything and slinked out of the kitchen and back to bed. I looked up at the clock- 1:04 AM.
   “Baby, are you okay? Why are you up? You just went to bed a couple hours ago.” David said in an uncharacteristically soft voice to me. His friend Mark stayed quiet, but he stared at me like I was some hag that just dragged myself onto dry land from years of living in the swamp. I really didn’t care.
   “I would imagine I am up from the noise.” I said looking at the beer cans and empty plates everywhere. Shuffling over to my chair that was between two tables on the far side of the room, I sat down, lit a cigarette, and looked at my phone. Six missed calls. Why do these people always call at night?
   David sauntered away from the table where he was standing. I looked up yawning and he was right next to me.
   “What happened to the little nugget of weed I kept in your tin?” He was talking about the little Norman Rockwell tin that I keep all of my bud in.
   “I didn’t know you had any in there, when did you start smoking weed?” Puzzled I started checking my emails. He slapped my phone out of my hand and got inches away from my face; holding onto both of the arm rests of my recliner. His shit-beer breath was hot in my face.
   “What, I don’t buy enough for you? You have to smoke my shit too?” He had that tight-lipped, squinted eye look on his face that said he wanted to fight.
   “Look, I didn’t know you had any weed in my tin. I’m just sitting here minding my own fucking business, go back to your friends.” Speaking in a low voice, I blew smoke in his face since I couldn’t hide the venom I was feeling. David shook my chair hard and then straightened up so he could grab my wrist and yank me to my feet. He pulled me to the kitchen table where my tin was dumped out. Little scraps of weed were scattered all over the white tablecloth. In a pile in the middle of the table sat my little medical marijuana jar, my scale, scissors, papers, and my glass bowl.  David picked up an empty dime bag with green happy faces all over it, and shook it in my face.
   “This is where I kept it. My shit, and it wasn’t even safe from my own wife-“David slapped me so hard, that his other hand felt like it would break my wrist as I flew backward. Being half-asleep still, my reflexes sucked, and I fell into the dog dishes spilling dry dog food and water everywhere. I stayed on my feet though because of the vice-grip on my wrist. Both of David’s friends, Mark and Tommy both rose and started getting their shit together. They’d made excuses and were out the door before my vision could clear. This enraged him even worse.
      “I can’t have anything without you taking it. Can’t I have anything for myself?” He whined and threw my wrist away from us. The momentum caught my shoulder and when I spun away he kicked my bad leg from behind, making me fall into the wet mess. Incredulous that he actually bested me I just sat there and started to scoop up the dog food and my soaked cigarette with my hands and drop it into the garbage a few feet away.  David threw a dish towel over my face, and as sleepiness melted away into anger, I used it to dry up the water. Formerly afraid when he was like this, now there was just a burning rage. I was trying to get up, to go change. David saw me moving and turned back to kick me again. This time I was ready for him- I grabbed his foot with both of my hands, moving with his momentum, and twisted as hard as I could, rolling my body with him. David crumpled as his huge body landed on a kitchen chair that exploded into flying splinters before he was rolling in pain next to me.
   I started crawling away. I got to my feet in the small mirrored hallway adjacent to my bedroom. Catching a glance in the mirror as I passed, there was blood running from my lip.  There were pieces of wood stuck in my hair and even a sliver of wood the size of a toothpick stuck in the side of my neck.  Fear rising in my throat, I tried to keep calm. I could still get out of there. Getting inside the room, I threw the lock on the flimsy door. Stripping out of my soaked Hello Kitty pajamas I was rifling through my drawers to find something dry to wear. David had already recovered- and I could hear him swearing and throwing the pieces of the kitchen chair he disintegrated.
   “Fuck!” Apprehension was swallowing me. I finally got ahold of my joggers and slid them on. I was just wiggling into a white tank top when there was a loud crash and the door buckled under great pressure. David was hurling what was left of the unlucky chair against the door. Urgency building so rapidly it felt like a presence in the room. I threw on my green velvet hoodie, and my eyes cast around the room for a pair of good running shoes. Finding my black Reeboks, I had just picked them up when the door flew open, the lock splitting off of the door and breaking another mirror. Shrieking- I grabbed my purse and keys and ran for the back door in the hallway right outside my bedroom doorway. David caught me by the throat and hair and drug me back into the room. When he released me I flew into the side of my small bed, and fell to the ground, my keys, and the contents of my purse clattered everywhere. David grabbed one of my boots laying out and tackled me as I tried to crawl out of the room. With my heart pounding in my ears, he turned me over and straddled my hips, holding my pretty patent leather boot over my face, and his other hand was crushing my throat under his weight.
   “Who the fuck do you think you are smoking my shit too? You greedy bitch. That was my shit! Don’t I buy you enough of your own?” David’s breathing was labored. But I couldn’t breathe, and with both hands I was trying to pull his larger hand off of my closing throat. He let up off of me for a second, but then I felt the side of my head explode in peppered white light as he struck me with the boot. In spite of this, I was still coughing and choking. When trying to get my breath back he stood up, and kicked me in the gut.  Vomiting right there, it was too much- worse than humiliating. He picked me up, stretching the collar of my hoodie and threw me onto the bed.
   My voice was raspy, “What about that time you took my bag next door and smoked the whole thing with Mark? How is anything ever mine if you’re always taking it back?” I was still coughing, and couldn’t get any volume above a loud whisper. Sprawled on my back in the bed, I was ready to pull my feet up and kick him in the face hard if he came closer. David sensed this and kept his distance.
   “It’s all mine!” David was picking the wood out of his bare chest and belly. “Everything you have I pay for. Nothing here is yours. Not even this shitty old trailer.” He moved a bit closer, and both of my feet hit him square in the chest. David shot backward into a speaker set up high on a table- the speaker launched through the window behind it. Shattering glass flew everywhere in a fantastic crash. David shook his head, and stood there, unsure of what to do next. I scrambled over to get a towel, and then threw it over the puke to soak. Between the anger I felt soaking up my own vomit, and the exhilaration of stunning him a moment there was no room left for fear.  Deciding this is enough I stood up and went on-
   “You think you paid for all of that weed you just smoked?” Giving a bitter laugh, “Where do you think the kid’s shoes came from? Hmmm? All of their clothes, school supplies?”
   “I paid for all of this- your dope, your cigarettes, and I paid for the kid’s clothes!” David spluttered, eyes growing wide as he thought of where this was going.
   “With the $42 you gave me after you got your new phone? You must think I’m a fucking miracle worker. Those kids got over two grand worth of stuff before the school year even started stupid.” Still smiling, I couldn’t keep the words in any longer. David looked at me in horror.
   “My mom bought the kid’s stuff! You said Isabelle bought the kids their shoes!” He wanted to hit me again, but he wanted to hear what I had to say even more.
   “No David, I bought the shoes. Did you really think I would let you know if I had any money? You’re too fucking selfish. Your mother spent a couple hundred a piece on the kids, cos she knew you weren’t taking care of us. But the rest came from me.” I finished in a rush. I was exhausted then, and David was coming closer.
   “You didn’t pay for it! Fucking Joe blow paid for it while you were all too happy to spread your legs you filthy cunt!” David punched me in the jaw and I was right back on the bed where I was a second ago. He jumped on me and backhanded me again as I reached for a heavy brass candle holder next to the bed. I should never have said a word, was he going to kill me this time? I started to fold on my side underneath him; held my arms over my head and pulled my knees up like my self- defense teacher taught me. David growled in frustration and reached for one of the many extension cords in the room, yanking it out of the wall. Blocking my face, I couldn’t see though. I only heard the lamp crashing to the ground in the struggle. When he was looping the cord through my arms, my eyes flew open, and I bucked in panic. It was too late though. He flipped me over on my stomach and tied both of my arms up to the elbows tightly to the bed frame. I cried out, face down, powerless. I couldn’t see anything in the awkward way my elbows were tied over my head.  Decided to save my energy. Crying and struggling wouldn’t have helped, and he’d probably gotten off watching me.
   “Playing dead sweetheart?” David was out of breath, but you could still hear the victory in his voice. “You want to be a whore- I need to show you how it’s done. You’re much too bitchy.” He yanked my sweats and panties off as easy as cutting butter. Offering no resistance, he’d just enjoy it more. But my mind was racing, going back to memories I thought were buried. Images burning of the last time this happened terrified me. “What man would pay for this with that fucking mouth of yours running?” He smacked my ass hard, and then slipped a finger inside of me. Laying there limp and resolved not to cry, I still choked back a sob. “After all of these years, why do I have to keep teaching you this?” David sneered at me.
    Whatever he was going to do, I wished he would just get it over with. My arms going numb I tried to relax and concentrate on breathing. Maybe I can go so deep into my mind that he won’t find me.
    David grabbed the back of my head again and yanked it back hard until I cried out again. He was going to break my neck! He stuck two fingers in my mouth down to the knuckle. “Pity I tied you up this way, I wanted some head.” He dropped my head and it bounced on the bed beneath me. Feeling one of my silk scarves passed over my face I screamed. I thought he was going to choke me to death. Before the sound could leave my throat the silk was sliding between my teeth, forcing my jaws apart. He tied it tightly behind my head. “Now I won’t have to hear your shit.” he said and barked a short laugh.
   David started whipping me with something, maybe another extension cord. Breathing, through it- it started off as a sharp sting, and built into cutting blows that made me jerk and scream on the bed. He was yelling at me, but through the biting pain I didn’t hear what he was saying. Covered in sweat, shaking with tears running silently down my face by the time he finished- there must’ve been bleeding welts all over my back, ass and legs. David thrusted inside of me like an animal over and over- lifting my hips off of the bed violently. I screamed and choked feeling every searing open cut he touched. Fear rebounded harder than ever. This was too much. He was surely going to kill me. He grabbed my jar of coconut oil next to the bed I used for sunbathing. Hearing him grease his hands I whimpered and bucked into the mattress with his cock still inside me. All reasonable thought had left my head by then.
   David shoved two fingers hard into my ass. I could feel his fingernails cutting the delicate tissue. The initial pain was like boring a hole where there was none previously. It was so bad I screamed through my gag.
   “Like that stupid hoe? Does it feel good? What makes you think your stuff isn’t mine? I can do whatever I want to you.” David pulled my hoodie over my head, making seeing or breathing near impossible. He pulled his cock out and shoved it in my ass deep, sodomizing me as I laid there shaking and gasping for breath. Every few minutes he pulled out and pushed deep in my vagina getting his cock good and wet before he could go another round on my ass. He was so rough I was going to split in two. His warm vinegar sweat stink filling my nose. I’m not sure how long this went on. It was an eternity.
   “I can’t cum this way, I need your mouth.” Feeling the cord come loose, blood ran into my cold hands and arms. They felt so full of pins and needles, I still couldn’t move them. He had my sharp pocket knife from my purse in his hand. In his other hand was a bag of zip-ties he had stolen from work. Turned on my side, but my arms were still numb. “C’mon and be a good whore for daddy.”  David pulled on my hoodie, yanking it off of me and I slid off of the bed and onto the floor again with an exhausted moan.
He pounced on my back, zip tying my wrists behind me. Sitting on me pushing on the back of my neck with my gagged head turned sideways he said, “Hold still Vicki, I don’t wanna cut your pretty face.” I felt the blade slide up next to my cheek, and in the next instant the scarf slipped away, but he still kept the sharp knife next to my face. “For every tooth I feel- I’ll cut a notch out right here,” he pushed the blade against my cheek, “got it?”  Feeling his weight pull up off of me, he then snatched me up by the hair- pushing and kicking me into a sitting position on the floor, my back and arms up tightly against the bed. There was blood smeared all over his torso, cock and legs. Wondering how much laundry I had to do that day as he held my face with both hands, using both thumbs prying my lower jaw open. He stood over my prone face, and pushed his dirty cock all the way down my throat, holding it there until I was jerking my whole body fighting to get away. He still held my hair at the nape of my neck, and my jaw in a crushing grip. When I shook my head hard in a last ditch effort for air, his cock flew out with gobs of saliva flying everywhere as I caught my breath. Wash rinse repeat. David kept doing this until my fighting began to irritate him. He pulled out and backhanded me.
 “Stop it. I own every inch of you. You’re gonna take this and love it.” He slurred and then switched up to full out throat fucking. Weakness threatening to overtake me again I kept my mouth open as wide as I could, slurping gulps of air at any opportunity, but remembering David’s promise. I wasn’t really afraid any more, just resigned.  He pounded my throat so hard and fiercely, I was afraid the kids would wake and hear the squishing and squelching sounds. David was so drunk his climax took forever to arrive. Finally with both hands on the back of my head holding me still- he thrusted deep and hard the last few times, spraying his rotten metallic tasting spunk down my throat. I fell away panting and choking again.
   While I laid there in a heap he returned with the knife to cut the zip-tie holding my wrists. I coughed and squirmed away from him, while he sat in my bed laughing at me. He grabbed me again by the back of my neck and held my face in his foul hands.
   “I don’t care who fucks you, how they fuck you, or what they do to you really. But you better not ever keep money from me again. I’ll bring my friends in here next time- we can take turns on you.” Laughing he pushed me back down on the floor.
   Before I took a shower, I looked at my face and body to assess the damage. My jaw on the right side had a purple knot on it. My eye on the same side was the same shade, but a puffier raised welt. There were red angry welts from my upper back down to my legs. Most of them had burst and rivulets of dried blood covered me. I had big swollen red spots everywhere from the body kicks, the one on my stomach was the largest and most painful. Blood was still running slowly out of my right ear. Dried flecks of blood were all over my face.
   No John had ever beat me this badly.
   I had to lock myself in my room that day. Too injured to clean up the damage I hollered to the kids that I was sick with a bad cold, and didn’t want them to catch it, and collapsed into bed. After almost a week I finally emerged, and had to lie again. This time taking a fall walking the dogs, to explain the bruises on my face that were still there.
   This is why it had to be kept a secret.

Submissive Beauty Wants to be Used II

This is what I did to pay my bills, since my husband David worked to drink, and not to support our family. This was the outrageous ad-see title, posted on a free website, and all of the texts, phone calls and emails I received were men notifying me if I want work.
    Eleven months ago I was diagnosed with Uterine, Cervical, and Breast Cancer. Along with a nice dose of Leukemia.
   I couldn't stop this. As bad and as disgusting as this all seemed, I was still placing an ad practically begging for abuse. I didn't want the normal boring old-men patrons. I wanted the hot-blooded, the crude, and the violent. I wanted to see how far the other side went. I knew this was irresponsible, and I loved my family, but this behavior paid for my children's and my needs. As an added bonus, if I could call it that, was the risk factor. Playing chicken with fate. It was not healthy in any way. Was certainly not advisable, yet I kept looking farther and farther over the edge.                                                   
   This was a typical day in my life.
   Insomnia dominated all hours of the day, I would wake up anywhere from 1 to 5 a.m. There was no TV blaring. No loud wall shaking music coming down the street. The only sound was the dull buzz of the fans in my room, and the crickets and frog song out my windows. Bird song if I woke up after 4 a.m. My dog snored in the bed next to me.  This was the best time to get any reading done. My tastes in reading varied widely, since I was in love with the act of reading, language, and heavily addicted to learning. Collecting data. Insatiable.
   It was time for the daily five mile walk.
   I pulled open my tin, and removed my blue-striped glass bowl. Packing it only halfway with weed, and firing it up. Held in the smoke as long as possible, and blew out a satisfying cloud. Fire, suck repeat. Two times. It felt safe to move my body afterward.
   Hobbling a bit faster to the opposite side of the trailer, I knocked on Abby’s broken bedroom door.
   “Hey, you wanna walk today?” Abby stirred, her sleeping baby face slightly twitching to life. Her eyelashes fluttered as her sleep addled brain took in the request. Her eyes opened finally as she turned her head to look at me.
   “Yeah, I’ll go.” Abby didn’t move immediately, but she would be ready in a few minutes.
   Going back to my room, I changed into compression gear and running shoes. This was the part where GaGa started jumping, pacing and whining by the back door. Hammy just stood in my way at every opportunity.
   Hammy was a ten year old Black Lab-mix male, who weighed in at fifty- five pounds, he was especially attached to Abby. She was twelve years old, and if she wasn’t in school during this time, she usually accompanied us walking with Hammy. The second dog we had was a female Pit- Dachshund-mix named Lady Gaga, and she weighed about forty-five pounds. She was skinny, with huge muscles, and a golden blonde coat. Eyes like sparkling amber with chunks of gold, gray rings around her irises, and what looked like a perfect Cleopatra eyeliner job around both eyes. Lady Gaga was spunky, aggressive, loyal, and my best friend in the world.
   I sat down and lit a cigarette. By the time I was half-way through Abby came in the room dressed and ready to go. Still looking half-asleep- she sat on the little black cube next to my bed. I smiled at her.
   “Good morning. How did you sleep?” I asked her. Lady was still whining and twirling in circles next to the door. Hammy sat down hard with a disgruntled groan.
   “I slept good.” She said with bright green eyes. Remembering just a few years ago I could get it together just as fast. “Mom, I had this dream, and Brandon was in it and so were you. We were riding down this road in a car, I don’t know whose it was. Then the car broke down, and we had to get out and walk. The longer we walked, the more the road cracked up. Then we were standing on the edge of this huge cliff,” her arms went up with her fingers spread out, “ and there was water below us, and all of a sudden the dogs were there, and they were trying to pull us all down, and then you woke me up.” Abby stopped for a breath, her eyebrows up in expectation. Abby, like me, had some of the most vivid dreams. For some reason she thought I could interpret them.
   “Maybe you were dreaming about our walks? But because you were upset with Brandon it turned kinda scary? I tried to offer.
   “I think it means going with Brandon would be a bad path for me.” She said with a certain finality. Tanya’s mind was made up. I don’t know why she wanted my opinion. But I liked her idea, so I went with it.
   “I think that’s exactly what it means! That makes sense. I’m glad we figured it out.” I put my cigarette out and we got up. “It’s really nice today compared to how it’s been. The sun is warm, and the air is dry.” I walked to the back door just outside my bedroom door, and grabbed the dog’s leashes hanging there. GaGa danced into her pink choke chain.
   “I’m glad to hear that. I’m so sick of the humidity. My hair poofs and frizzes so bad.” Tanya was putting the leash on Hammy. We both straightened up from leashing them and headed out. We didn’t really speak much during our walks. We had to keep our eyes on where our feet would step, since we covered a lot of rugged ground. We also had to pay attention to what the dogs were doing. There was always glass, poison, or some other potential danger on the path, and seeing a squirrel was the least of our worries.
    We start from our trailer, and once we left the park, we were walking north on Telegraph Road for about a mile. This was the busy thoroughfare we lived on. At this point my left hip was throbbing. This deep, slicing pain radiated with each stride. Bones and muscles so swollen they rubbed and ground on each other in all of the wrong ways. Pulsing lava shot straight down my leg all the way down to my big toe. Once we passed a liquor store, a diner, a florist and an Italian restaurant, we turned down a road that was half residential, with crab-apple trees lining that side, and a long sheet metal fence that went down the other side of the road all the way into the woods.  By this time, the pain was muted, replaced a bit, with a good tingling feeing- almost like healing.  The pain wouldn't return in earnest until I cooled down- locking me in a vice that returned with a vengeance. But during that time, we were in our own private dream world. After leaving the noise and din of traffic, this place had a surreal fairyland quality to it. There we would reach a huge duck pond that we walked around. There were usually geese and ducks in the pond, and a beautiful huge white Crane we called Frank. The air was scented with wild flowers, and dragonflies, moths and butterflies all danced and swooned next to us as we walked past all of the landscape. After we walked around the perimeter of the pond, we went straight in to the woods for another mile and a half of trails there. This was our favorite part. Maple, Oak, and Locust trees reach as far as seventy feet in the air, anf made me feel so small I half expected to see a giant lumbering past. The air was sweet. We saw deer, rabbit, skunks, squirrels, and too many birds to name. The woods cleared out into the trailer park, and our trailer was right on that edge.
    There were mis-matched, tiny, ancient mobile homes were all packed tightly together only fifteen feet apart from each other.  Even worse were the huge gaping holes in the park, where no new trailers had been moved in- a reflection of our economy. There were much more open space than there were antique, rotten mobile homes. Electric and gas meters sticking up out of the otherwise undisturbed earth were a grim reminder. Crackheads and other derilect people were wandering, or worse, fighting. Loud music would’ve been blaring, even at this early hour, while groups of people sat out next to their trailers in the road; drinking, or smoking any kind of dope they could get their hands on. Loud vehicles were being worked on, some were racing up and down the small streets making it impossible for children to play.
   Looking at my beautiful daughter next to me, I was thankful that we never allowed her to play with most of the kids here. As sick as I was, would she have been over there by the creek with that group of kids smoking cigarettes? Looking at their dirty faces and threadbare clothes I barely suppressed a shudder. And what If I got killed? Or if the Cancer did it first? Where would my children end up in such a place?
Due to the severe case of lymphadema diagnosed at the age of 13, Overtop the super developed muscles I've been working so hard on for the last 30 years, there were essentially sacs of stagnant lymphatic fluid that my body refused to drain out. The reason for the huge muscles was because exercise was the only effective way to move any of this filthy stuff. Exercising everyday actually filtered the fluid through the muscles. This took up anywhere from 2-5 hours a day in the gym or working out at home. Some days more, some days less, but I always had to hit the gym a lot.
If I refused to work out like this, I would develop what the doctor called 'Elephant legs'.  The extra fluid would sink into my legs and feet below the knees, crushing all of the bones within. This would be more painful than the constant training by far.
  We returned home. Finishing my workout with step aerobics, weight training, plyometrics or kickboxing, showered and got ready to do any work lined up for that particular day. Sometimes it was just some housework, sometimes meeting a man that day to pay me for some kind of sexual act. I usually have to go to the doctor, or the library for books or research.  There was always the shopping, or taking one of the kids to the many places kids have go.

Submissive Beauty Wants to be Used I

Submissive Beauty Wants to be Used
Jamie LaGrow
dollface996@gmail.com
  The store's air conditioning was blowing down on my neck and shoulders in my thin tank top, making me stiff. The store intercom was playing 'Sweet Caroline'.  Standing at the Walmart pharmacy counter looking down at it; deciding what I have to put back. I had $178 in my purse.
"I'll be with you in a moment," The pharmacist, a middle aged woman told me while she counted out pills. I needed a moment anyway.
There in front of me, was one gallon of milk, $3.99, two loaves of bread, $5, a Bissel-Xtra-Lite small vacuum cleaner, $39.99, and three composition notebooks, $7. My script of Carboplaitin was $128.
"Hey, Jem! I thought that was you! How you doin doll?" The tapping on my shoulder drew me out of the problem that was before me.
"Hey Roy. Yeah it's me." I replied in a soft distracted voice while looking all around us to see if anyone else I know was at Walmart the same time as Roy and I.
"Wow wow wow doll, I thought I would never see you again. Why didn't you return my calls?" Roy asked me as he ran one age spotted hand through his white hair. He looked concerned, not angry, staring at me through his thick eyeglasses. Probably all of the weight I'd lost. Almost thirty pounds in just twelve weeks. Never been so thin.
"Uh, my phone died. I had to get a new number, and I lost all of my contacts." I shrugged my bony shoulders at him. Really his number was blocked on my phone, but I wasn’t going to say that to him.
"I really wanted to see you again, you're so much fun, and you cry so beautifully... , he trailed off as he put his arm around me and started squeezing my breast. The one I just had surgery on. Yelping before I could stop myself and jump away from Roy. "How can I help you?" The pharmacist asked me, smiling.
"Hi. Yes, I have a script for LaGrow." I told her while trying to keep some distance between me and geriatric Roy. His enthusiasm certainly wasn't rusty. The lady went to look for my medicine.
"We really need to get together again. I have so many new toys I want to show you." Roy was smiling too, but for a different reason as he stepped too close again, leaving no room at all between us and the counter.
"I don't know Roy, I'm really busy with school right now. I can take your number and call you when things calm down." A lie I told Roy as he stroked the side of my face. He stiffened, grabbing my shoulder.
"I'm not interested in giving you my number Jem," Roy said much too loudly, "You know what I want to give you...".
"$191.66." A young clerk said. While I was trying to deal with Roy, she was ringing my items up. They were all bagged and ready to go on the counter.
"Shit! I was supposed to put something back. I'll just have to wait on my medicine. Can you take it off of my order please?" Irritated that Roy even had to show up.
"Your script?" The pharmacist said, incredulous. "Are you certain you want to do this?"
"How much is it?" Roy butts in, looking in his wallet. He holds his American Express card out to the clerk. "Here, put it on this." The clerk took his card.
"No Roy, I don't want this. I don't know when I'll be able to pay you back." I said close to tears. I couldn't believe how bad this day was getting.
"Who said you have to pay me back?" Roy beamed at me as he straightened up from signing the screen on the counter. "You need a break, some time to relax. Come over, I'll put some steaks on...".
"I didn't ask you to buy my shit," I said in a low voice grabbing my bags off of the counter. "and I'm not coming to your house ever again." I smiled at the clerk, "Have a nice day." and started walking toward the store's exit.
"Hey you can't do that!" Roy was shouting. He tried to follow me, but there was no way he could keep up. "You took my money you filthy whore!" was the last thing I heard him say as I outpaced him out of Walmart.

The problem with Vaccines

Thursday, April 13, 2017

6:45 PM

After writing my last piece, I received my first review from a reader since I began at Halsey News Network. At least that's what I think it was. "Was good except for the loopy vaccine stuff." I replied and asked him what was 'loopy' about it, but no reply. I really wanted to hear what he had to say, but he probably figured I was just looking for an argument, and never wrote back.

Not long after that I got that, there was a "I don’t want you to be mad" message from my boss and I knew I had done something wrong. Taking a deep breath to calm my heart that had immediately began pounding at an accelerated rate, I hit him back and asked him what I did.

Apparently, I got some bad information, off of a faulty site and it either had to be retracted, or a disclaimer had to be written. I told him to write the disclaimer, and I would get right to it.

Hey- If you're going to write about controversial stuff, you gotta be ready to retract.

So you're probably wondering what all of this is about, and what on earth does it have to do with vaccines? Here is the paragraph that started all the trouble.

"The vaccines they gave you at birth. Toxic heavy metals, monkey cells, human blood cells from another person, all manner of pathogen  filth put into these shots, given to babies, minutes old, with no immune system at all."

The stuff I uncovered eventually was enough to curl your hair.

Toxic Heavy Metal-

According to the International journal of Vaccines and Vaccinations a Dr. Antoinetta Gatti found that there were next to toxic levels of brain-damaging aluminum salts in almost every case. In addition to the red blood cells that were of unknown origin and foreign, there were inorganic debris in clusters, or free particles in every single human vaccine they tested.

They found the debris consisted of lead, stainless steel, chromium, tungsten, nickel, iron, zirconium, hafnium, strontium, antimony and others. The one animal vaccine was the only one to come back clean.

These ingredients were not listed on the label. In one vaccine for children above three, GSK's Flaurix- they found eleven metals and aggregates of metals, that have been associated with Leukemia.

"We had never questioned the purity of vaccines before. In fact, for us the problem did not even exist. All injectable solutions had to be perfectly pure, and that was an act of faith on which it seemed impossible to have a doubt… we repeated our analysis several times to be certain. In the end we accepted the evidence," said Dr, Gatti.

From <http://cdc.news/2017-03-27-report-toxic-heavy-metal-debris-found-in-vaccines.html>

The National Vaccine Center had some interesting findings as well. There are three parts, or 'arms' as they call them to a child's immune system. If all goes well, and these arms are balanced, even after vaccinations, then the child should have a fully developed immune system by age three. However if the balance is lost, all manner of health problems sprout up.

There were multiple articles cited showing evidence of how Aluminum in the vaccines had exhibited a skewed reaction and over-activity of the T2 arm of the immune system. It was careful to note that there may be other effects on the T1 and T3 arms, but exactly what was unknown. The tests indicated that because of the imbalance it lead to disorders and diseases such as Asthma, allergies, Lupus, IBD, AD(H)D and Autism.

In 1999, Mercury had been outlawed in vaccines, but as recently as 2008 there were  vaccines containing Mercury found that were still being given to kids.

Monkey and human cells-

Which was vague. There was so much more. The Whiteout Press, lead me to other scientists and their findings.  Human, and pig DNA was found in these studies. In 2012 Leslie Carol Botha of the Natural Solutions Foundation, and the Women's Health Freedom Coalition, released a report detailing the dangers of foreign DNA in American vaccines. She cited documentation from the Center for the Biology of Chronic Disease.

"The presence of dormant and relict viral sequences in the human and other animal genomes has been known for at least twenty years. These include human retroviral sequences that have been identified in live viral vaccine in human cells." Botha reported.

What this means is that Big Pharma companies are using human remains infected with

retroviruses and other diseases to make their vaccines. The study alsoal showed that they were using pig remains, as it tested positive for pig DNA, among other animals. Just as the human DNA was positive with human DNA diseases, so the pig DNA tested positive for pig diseases.

Botha goes on to mention Rotarix, an orally administered vaccine that contains nucleic acids from pig to make (PC-1) Then a second was made containing the porcine nucleic acids from both (PC-1) and (PC-2) " a pathogen from pigs associated with wasting and immunodeficiency." These are both given to babies only a few months old.

Botha then went on to point out the double standard of the Federal government. While one arm considered these are a biohazard, another arm of the same government insists that these are perfectly safe, and should be forced upon our children. She said, "Even the American Biologic Safety Association has classified recombinant DNA a biohazard and has outlined specific directives on the handling of such contaminants."

Looks like I got a two for one on the foreign blood cells, since they themselves contained harmful pathogens.

Let's do one more anyway for good measure.

The CDC admitted that between 1955-63 over ninety-eight million Americans were given one or more doses of a Polio shot that was contaminated with a Cancer causing virus called Simean vacoulating virus (SV-40). They were quick to retract the page, along with Google, but the site was cached and saved by many. This was in the mainstream local news during the spring and summer of 2016.

There is even a site called SV40 dedicated to the virus that somehow found it's way into the Polio vaccine. The cover letter below explains the story.

SV40 was the 40th virus found in rhesus monkey kidney cells when these cells were used to make the polio vaccine. This virus contaminated both the Inactivated Polio Vaccine (IPV) created by Dr. Jonas Salk and the Oral or "Live" Polio Vaccine (OPV) created by Dr. Albert Sabin.

In 1961, SV40 was discovered by Dr. Bernice Eddy of the National Institute of Health, Division of Biologics when she took the material used to grow polio vaccines and injected it into hamsters. Tumors grew in the hamsters. Her discovery was subsequently validated by Drs. Maurice Hilliman and Benjamin Sweet of Merck.

Upon the discovery that SV40 was an animal carcinogen that had found its way into the polio vaccines, a new federal law was passed in 1961 that required that no vaccines contain this virus. However, this law did not require that SV40 contaminated vaccines be thrown away or that the contaminated seed material (used to make all polio vaccines for the next four decades) be discarded. As a result, known SV40 contaminated vaccines were injected into children up until 1963. In addition, it has been alleged that there have been SV40-contaminated batches of oral polio vaccine administered to some children until the end of the 1990's.

From <http://sv40foundation.org/>

So there you have it. The stunning CDC admissions, the horrific ingredients, and why these vaccines are harmful. After all, if they're using biohazard materials to make something to inject into your child, you should know. Even if you have older kids, and you never knew before, it's still beneficial to know the possible cause of any problems that may have shown up.

These are just a few of the things I saw and learned while researching this. If I had to write on all of it, well it would have taken much longer because it would have been a book. Yes there are many that say  vaccines are safe, but there were many admissions by people who work in the industry itself that ignore the danger and only speak well of them to push sales.

The main idea- of a vaccination, that can prevent a person from becoming ill by inoculating their immunity to a disease is brilliant. It's the added filth, the refuse, why is it there? If we can do all of the amazing things mankind has accomplished, why can't we manage a clean vaccine? There's no excuse.

What a stupid question. These people can't actually really make you better, cure you, or prevent any diseases without creating new ones.

Everyone knows, because then they would be out of a job.

Glaring Threats

Tuesday, March 28, 2017

7:18 PM

It doesn't take a genius to see that a good part of Washington DC and most of the Mainstream Media want President Trump out of the picture. It's everywhere you look…online, on television, it's unprecedented in most of our lifetimes.


In any other presidency, if people were threatening to 'blow up the White House' like Madonna so unceremoniously did a couple months ago or shooting effigies of the President like Snoop Dogg or threatening to kidnap the First Lady and sell her into prostitution like Bow Wow, under usual circumstances that person would be arrested and subject to extensive and intensive questioning and have charges filed. It makes one question what country are we even living in where violence against a sitting President can be so openly advocated for?


Rosie O'Donnell called for martial law, along with a few other demands back in January according to yahoo news.


Michael Moore loves appearing in different spots, and leaving cryptic dark messages that don't bode well for President Trump. He was ranting on Twitter again today in fact, with another negative statement.


"Historians in the near future will mark today, March 28th, 2017, as the day the extinction of human life on earth began, thanks 2 Donald Trump."


Sarah Silverman called for a military coup, asking the Army to rise up.


Katie Perry, one of the biggest pop stars in the world tweeted, "The revolution is coming".


CNN, which still likes to pretend it is a reputable news source, regularly features guests which encourage the assassination of President Trump. The Daily Wire has taken note with a thought provoking article by that name. It was online on inauguration day. Additionally, CNN guests have frequently associated the president with Neo Nazis, the KKK, and white supremacists. A lot of time seem to be spent on commentators who enjoy stressing false accusations against the President that he committed  sexual assault. President Trump is constantly used in the same breath as segregationist former Alabama Governor, George Wallace.


President Trump is supposedly mentally unstable, the Manchurian candidate even though there is no proof of either.


What do all of these little questions and signals that they keep throwing out there do?


They harden the public's mind against our president, make him the enemy.The plan no doubt is to incite violence and murder.


Some nut job will fly off the handle and shoot the president.


The jokes that are made on late night television, are not only made to demonize President Trump, but also to normalize violence against authority.


One of the definitions of the word sedition is incitement to resistance of lawful authority. So it's a very slippery slope we are on as the media plays this game.


The Atlantic monthly now has an article out 'Rewriting the rules of presidential succession.'


The Washington post, Financial Times, The Wall Street Journal all have written articles quoting people who have belittled President Trump or even encouraged violence against him and his family.


Death threats, rape threats against the first lady and even attacks on ten year old Baron abound on social media.


Have we noticed a trend yet?


Can you imagine if the mainstream treated Obama in this manner?


No, neither can I.
Funny how normal they've made it for President Trump though isn't it?


Maxine Waters has attacked President  Trump relentlessly, calling for his impeachment daily and yesterday she even went after his supporters questioning their patriotism in a White House floor rant. She said her 'main goal was to make sure that man does not remain president of the United States'. This was all according to Intellihub news and politics.


What does all of it mean? Another epic move in this year of many shifts and tumbles?


President Trump is taking the blame for the health care fiasco, the inevitable market crash. And if he didn't do it, just remember that he must have helped the Russians to do it.


Never before have we seen a president so reviled, slandered, and threatened. So back to the start. If it doesn't take a genius to see how much so many want him gone, then it shouldn't be rocket science to realize world government, communism, and third world conditions are right around the corner once they rid themselves of him.


So no one wins, and we all lose everything. If these people succeed in killing our president, they're sinking the same boat we all share.

Annoyance or Racist Sexism?

Wednesday, March 29, 2017

7:45 PM

Yesterday was an especially trying press briefing for Sean Spicer.

Let's be honest. Every press briefing is difficult for our press secretary. The reporter's in the press pool circle him like vultures, diving in hard with ridiculously repetitive questions, some just purely ridiculous.

This administration has gone to great lengths to be transparent to the American people. We have a president that isn't afraid to use Twitter, so we know for the first time in our lives what the president's thoughts are with no filter.

When was the last time there was a daily press briefing? The entire administration is working tirelessly around the clock trying to recessitate our dying nation, puling out all the stops to get our pulse back.

Speaking of repetitive, do you know how many times Spicer had to say the phrase, 'As I've said' or some other close variation? Just in yesterday's press brief, on March 28th, eight times. And that showed restraint. There were questions that he answered, and the answer he gave was a good sized paragraph long. But was hearing a thorough answer like that good enough for our top mainstream reporters?

Of course not.

On questions that Spicer answers many times, some daily, he must repeat the answer at least once.

Then there is the content of the questions.

Questions that are really directed to others, like the Ford Motor company, or the privately owned coal mining industry. Questions that shouldn't be speculated on by the press secretary himself, much less the press.

One reporter by the name of Francesca actually asked him if Congressman Nunes should recuse himself from the whole Russia debacle!

During the course of this conference that resembled thirty dentists all trying to extract the teeth from one Press secretary- a reporter named April Ryan from NBC just couldn't let the Russia thing go, even though her questions had very little to do with that.

At this point, Spicer has had to answer three lengthy questions twice, and he had been very sharp about not answering any trick questions.

In fact, this is how Spicer handles the situation everyday. He's kept his cool, been respectful and as repetitive as the reporters desired.

The problem is that the press is water, and Spicer is a huge boulder. Although the stone is very heavy, dense and strong, the water is relentless. Just a constant small drip, drip, drip everyday, and the water soon wears a hole straight through the rock. The press, although not as powerful, are channeled straight at the Trump administration, and Spicer is the frontman.

By the time Spicer had moved on to April, he was a bit worn down. She took the chance to make him look agitated, and the water went from a drip, drip to a steady stream.

"Sean, thank you. Sean, don't look so happy to see me." The first punch delivered and received. The narrative set.

This one statement makes most people think Spicer had a direct grudge against this sweet looking lady with the soft voice. April went on in for a second and third and did not disappoint.

"How does this administration revamp it's image? Two and a half months in, you've got the Yates story today... you've got Russia, you've got wire tapping.."

"No we don't have that." Spicer interrupted.

"There are investigations on Capitol Hill..." April persisted. This time it was Spicer who delivered.

"No, no, I get it...but you keep, I've said it from the day that I got here.. that there is no connection. .. If the President puts Russian salad dressing on his salad tonight, somehow that's a Russian connection..." Great burn. Spicer definitely hit the mark there, so April went into victim mode for the rest of the exchange.

"It's beyond that. You're making it into.." April tried to get another shot in.

'Well no, I appreciate your agenda here.." Second massive burn. April is gonna need some aloe when this is over.

"It's not my agenda." April snapped.

Really?

Whose agenda is it?

Sounds like she knows who it belongs to.

Spicer then goes into an answer that he has to repeat twice, just like most of the answers he has to give. Here is the second try, after he noted that she was shaking her head at him.

"Okay, but understand this- that at some point- the facts are what they are. Every single person who has been briefed on this situation with respect to Russia- Republican, Democrat, Obama apointee.. have all come to the same conclusion. At some point April you're going to have to take 'no' for an answer, with respect to whether or not there was collusion." What a mouthful, and Spicer has to say answers like this over and over and over again.

April changes strategy. Back to the start.

"But my question was 'How do you change the perception of. ." April said meekly, as if Spicer had morphed into a huge scary monster during the course of his answer(s).

"We're going to do everything we're doing to make sure.. that what the President told the American people he was going to do to fulfill those pledges and promises he made. To bring back jobs, to grow the economy, to keep our nation safe- that's what he's been focused on since day one. We are going to keep focusing on that every single day." There really is no better answer for April's question. Nothing will revamp the administration's image more than delivering.

April hasn't run out of tricks however, she pops in a question here, still pretending that Spicer is breathing fire and snorting bombs at her.

"But when Condi Rice comes on Friday- Condi Rice did not support the President. She did not go to the convention... what is on the agenda, and how is their relationship? Has it healed since 2006 when he used a very negative word to describe her?"

Wow. Condi Rice? Talk about left field.

"It's interesting that you ask those two questions back to back. On the one hand you are saying, what are we doing to improve our image, and then here he is meeting someone who hasn't been a big supporter of his." Spicer caught it effortlessly however, he must be used to such underhanded tactics.

"But he called her that negative name in 2006." April sounded like a disapproving mother or auntie.

"No, no. But you put it, April, hold on." Spicer was collecting his thoughts. Saying what needed to be said. "It seems you are hell bent on trying to make sure that whatever image you want to tell about this White House stays because at the end of the day.." He was cut off again though.

"I was just reporting what.." Ah, but two can play at that game.

Spicer launched back into the very same answer he had just given, because apparently the White House Press are like children that need everything stated at least twice.

"Okay, but you know what? You're asking me a question and I'm going to answer it. Which is, the President- I'm sorry, please stop shaking your head again."

Then the diatribe of how the President is trying to reach out to those who support him, and those who don't support him and he is trying to bring them together and move on an agenda to help every American.

To try to find common ground between the Republicans and Democrats for national, personal, and economic security. To create jobs, safer communities, better education and healthcare for all Americans from both sides is the aisle, in order to make our country stronger.

Of course April had to give it one more try. If nothing else, this woman is tenacious.

"About Russia and Tillerson on Friday?" April asked.

Spicer admitted he was not prepared to speak on that and decided to close with the following.

"We're not at Friday yet, I will have a readout when that's done."

After this the press was dismissed. Because April sucked up everyone else's time there were no other questions.

No sooner had this conference ended and the Internet was lit up with Spicer's racist, sexist behavior.

Some Internet paper I've never heard of named Mashable led with this line, "Angry Sean Spicer tells April Ryan, a veteran black female journalist to 'stop shaking' her head."

ABC had an article by the Associated Press called, "Sean Spicer tells reporter to 'stop shaking your head'.

Business Insider was not to be outdone when they posted this, " 'Stop shaking your head'. Sean Spicer unloads on a reporter who asks about Trump/Russia connections."

The Washington Post: "Sean Spicer loses his cool: 'Stop shaking your head'.

Oh and this one by the New York Daily was my favorite, just because of the outlandish slander, "Sean Spicer and Bill O'Reilly continue the age old American tradition of disrespecting black women".

#BlackWomenAtWork trended the entire day on Twitter. There were several tweets talking about how oppressed women were, especially black women.

Who was the main culprit?

The dreaded white male. The actual sex and race that Spicer was unfortunate enough to be born into.

But of course not nearly as unfortunate as the black woman, which fit the bill for April Ryan.

So the White House press secretary had a bad day, and burned a black female reporter a couple of times for being obtuse. After countless days of the whole pool being dense.

Guilty of losing his cool, and calling her out on her 'agenda'?

Or an open sexist and racist in the White House abusing the press?

Well America -you decide.

State of the Union Address

Where to begin.
There is so much going on it's difficult to find a place to start.
Stocks soared for third day in a row, although the dollar began to lose value in the afternoon. This was because of the threat of a rate hike.
The price of gold remains down, so people won't see the dollar plummeting. Silver is your best bet- today anyway.
The market hit an all time high this week, breaking records passing the twenty one thousand mark on March first.

This happened the day after president Trump gave an amazing speech. Even some of his haters, like Van Jones had to agree.

"In that moment he became the president of the United States." Was his surprising response. Even on CNN the approval rating was higher than ever.

Watching it was a riveting experience for a State of the Union address. Usually a pleasant but slightly boring experience, president Trump's speech was awe inspiring.
Trump does nothing in a small way however, so it wasn't a complete shock.
There was a very moving but awkward moment when he honored Carryn Ownens-  the widow of the Navy Seal that was killed in the first raid in Yemen. The first with this president as commander in chief.

Trump gave Owens a standing ovation with full on clapping for an entire two minutes.
We all watched her trying to control her tears, looking up to heaven, in prayer, or talking to the love of her life we don't know.

As the clapping wore on, the stares on Owens became heavy. I started to feel a pang of sympathy for her, not just for her pain and grief, but for the continued thousands of stares, even the people seated right next to her.

Perhaps they felt it appropriate for the two minutes, to give her honor for Owens' great sacrifice. It's not unnoticed. But a moment to two of silence out of respect for her would have been kinder. A few of us think this, but the president seemed very satisfied with the display exclaiming how the applause had broken yet another record.

It wasn't mean spirited, maybe a bit thoughtless. But there was not a dry eye by the time it was over. It was a beautiful moment, not just for those in attendance,  but for the millions of television viewers.

The dems were there, some of them, all wearing white, as if in sufferage. They refused to stand and applaud, all but three of them. The three that did were not wearing white, and were just as enthusiastic as every conservative in the house.

The dems also had the bad taste to invite illegals, they must have had extra room since so few of them showed up for the ceremony. Much like the inauguration, disgraceful.

But during the speech they not only sat there sullenly in their creepy white costumes, but they acted as if they had reverted back to elementary school. Booing and giving the 'thumbs down' whenever Trump talked about radical Islam, or illegal immigration. The lowest point was when the president announced that he was starting a new program called VOICE. Victims of Illegal immigrants Crime Engagement. The boos and gasps were so loud that the microphones and cameras picked them up. The epitome of shame.

How could they be so selfish when Trump honored the father who had lost his son, because an illegal alien had killed him? There were other ones present that had all lost loved ones at the hand of an illegal that they had failed to keep out.

Truly showing the worst of our nation, the memory that stands out the worst to me was Pelosi's sour disrespectful looks that she kept giving. Never more insolent than when the president spoke of immigration policy, and the new VOICE program. She never looked older, more haggard than that night sitting with her skinny arms and legs crossed, as if the world owed her more than the hundreds of millions she had already obtained illegally in office. Somehow she felt cheated, as if her and her illegal guests deserved the place of honor ahead of the widow who had lost everything for our freedom.

As an interesting side note, the Russian ambassador also was invited by the dems, and he sat with them. Who knows what he must have thought seeing such embarrassing behavior?

While the beautiful event went on inside, even with all of the disregard the dems showed, anti Trump protesters did all they could outdoors to make noise, trying to disrupt the speech if they could. Bringing noisemakers, and beating on pots and pans, it was another grievous display.

Imagine what the rest of the world must think of us spoiled Americans, when we, and our very leaders behave so awfully.  People in Venezuela are killing each other over a loaf of bread or a piece of sausage. Killing the zoo animals for meat. People with Epilepsy and other disorders are seizing up and dying, due to the fact that meds have been unavailable for so long.

But us. We can't even get along during one of the happiest occasions we've had so far with our new president.

Yes, Trump is a bit rough around the edges, not finely polished like politicians are. But he is sincere, and is doing all he can to keep his campaign promises. Truly, we have never had such an honest, devoted president in this century I dare say. At least not that I've seen or read about.

We are given this rare gift, and the liberals not only want him out of office, they want him dead. Death threats, violent and morbid memes abound on social media. Every daytime talk show host or hostess trashes him alongside late night comedians.

These are the kind of people that called for the blood of Christ. A man who had healed ills, fed nations, and raised the dead. It didn't matter what he did, they kept calling for his blood. Even begging for the release of Barabas, a murderer, so Jesus could take his place. For this type of crowd, the brainwashed multitude, nothing less would do, and the same applies today.

Not that Trump is anywhere near perfect. Not that he is so Christlike. But the man isn't out to kill us like the rest are. Trump truly loves our country, and the people within it. He's taking great measures to keep us safe and to help us to prosper again, like a superpower should. Like we used to. Before the communists and globalists sank their teeth into us.

But no, the opposition is incredible. It's within the corporate media, within our senate. The top eight richest people in the world still decide our fate in the end, but our president is brave enough to take them on. Of course the indoctrinated masses today are against him.

Celebrities led the mobs outside the white house. Screaming senseless things, insane things, and the zombies ate it up and used it for fuel. Which is worse? To be a sheep like these people who don't think for themselves?  Or to be a rich celebrity that knows what is going on, but doubles down on the evil anyway? Or worst of all, to be a celebrity with no clue still, just one of the zombie sheep?

This was just on Tuesday, February twenty eighth. The next few days had their own trials and difficulties. But that is another story.