Tales of Rock: Man Accidentally Trips On LSD For 9 Hours After Cleaning A Classic Synthesizer

Eliot Curtis accidentally tripped on LSD while fixing a vintage Buchla Model 100. He was tasked to repair a piece of history, but he didn’t expect to begin seeing history and time in front of him as tripped on acid. With his experience, he added another story to the history of the synthesizer, and it’s probably a good idea to making cleaning old equipment with gloves on a standard procedure.

The Buchla Model 100 was invented in the 1960s by Don Buchla of Berkeley. He completely immersed himself in counterculture, and in 1966, his synthesizers were put on a school bus converted to play music. The iconic bus of counterculture, Furthur, was purchased by Ken Kesey, an advocate for using acid. Among their crew was Owsley Stanley, a sound engineer and manufacturer of a potent strain of LSD. While these links can explain how the drug could’ve gotten on the synthesizer, it’s still unclear exactly how the LSD got on this specific one.

Curtis, the Broadcast Operations Manager for KPIX Televsion, was tasked with repairing the vintage analog music modular instrument they found in a closet at Cal State University East Bay’s music department. It was acquired by two music professors who taught in the university during the 1960s. During his repair, Curtis found something stuck under one of the knobs, and it appeared to be a crystal. He sprayed cleaning solvent on the residue to dissolve it a little bit, then he dislodged it from the knob to continue cleaning the area.

45 minutes later, Curtis began to feel strange tingling sensations. He speculated that he was tripping on LSD but thought that’s probably just his imagination. His original inkling, however, was true. His unexpected LSD trip lasted around nine hours.

Authorities later confirmed that residues of LSD were present on the instrument. According to reports, the place the synthesizer was stored made it possible for the LSD to remain potent. The machine was resting in a cool, dark place, so the drug’s potency was preserved so well that it was possible for the residue to be ingested through the skin. With his unexpected trip, Curtis learned a lot more about the 1960s counterculture than he could have ever imagined.

 

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7 Signs Your Relationship Won’t Last After The First 3 Months Of Dating

It’s so easy to get swept up in the rush of lovey-dovey feelings you get from dating someone new. But according to experts, it’s pretty important to stay grounded during the first three months of dating. Because as amazing as those new love feels are, those first 90 days can determine whether or not your new relationship is the real thing or has an expiration date.

“The three month-mark in a relationship is usually when you either take the relationship to the next level and become more serious, or you decide that love isn’t going to grow and you break ties,” dating coach, Anna Morgenstern, tells Bustle.

Although every relationship differs, three months is considered to be the average length of the first stage of a relationship. According to psychotherapist and relationship coach, Toni Coleman, LCSW, you should be ideally making that transition from “casually dating” to “exclusive” around that time. But again, this varies depending on how much time you actually spend together and how much distance is between you two.

According to Coleman, many believe that “losing interest” is the reason behind why some couples can’t seem to make it past three months. But that’s not entirely the case. “It’s not so much losing interest in one another as it is making a decision that this relationship is not one they want to invest more in and deepen,” she says. “They simply don’t feel that the friendship, connection, attraction and interest are strong enough.”

So will your new relationship make it past those crucial first 90 days? According to experts, if your partner hasn’t done these things in that time frame, it may not.

1. Your Partner Can’t Be Consistent With Their Communication

A person who wants a serious relationship with you will be consistent with communication early on.

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At the beginning of a relationship, texting, calling, and messaging typically happen very often. There’s a lot of back and forth flirtation, and you pretty much expect it. But if your partner is no longer predictable or consistent with their communication, Emily Pfannenstiel, licensed professional counselor who specializes in therapy for women, tells Bustle, that’s not a great sign.

“As your relationship progresses, your communication should be too,” Pfannenstiel says. “They should be excited and wanting to talk to you! Playing coy is one thing, but if you feel like they go MIA on you every couple days, that’s not good.” According to her, it may take some time to get used to each other’s communication styles. For instance, one partner might not like texting all day, while the other does. But in the early stages, it’s especially important to check in and show some investment in the new relationship. If you’re unsure of your partner’s level of interest, Pfannenstiel suggests matching the level of communication they give you. If they’re barely communicating, you may need to have a discussion about it.

2. Your Partner Isn’t Their Genuine Self Around You

By the three-month mark, both you and your partner should feel totally comfortable being yourselves around each other. According to Samantha Daniels, dating expert and founder of Samantha’s Table Matchmaking, it’s a time when you stop worrying about scaring your partner off with talks about the future or bringing up issues that need to be discussed.

“You should feel no boundaries when it comes to texting when you feel like it, introducing them to your family, and being mad if they hurt your feelings and saying so,” she says. “The three month mark is when the dating games should be stopping and you can both be your genuine, honest, real true selves.” For some people, it may take a little longer to open up and be truly comfortable. So you may have to be a little patient, depending on how your partner is. But it shouldn’t take any longer than six months for them to be themselves around you.

3. They Don’t Invite You To Hang Out With Their Friends

If someone sees a future with you, they will want you to meet their friends.

Ivanko80/Shutterstock

If your partner starts making more plans with friends and isn’t making the effort to include you, Morgenstern says, that’s an early sign your relationship may not last. When this happens, the tendency is to cling onto the relationship for fear of losing it. You may text them more or request to spend more time together. But as she says, “that is the absolutely worst thing to do.”

Instead, let them be. Maybe they need space to figure out their feelings in order to move forward. “Plan a trip with friends for the weekend and have an amazing time reconnecting with your inner circle. Coming from a place of self love and inner confidence will save your relationship,” Morgenstern says. “And if your partner does break it off, you’ll be setting yourself up to walk away from the relationship as a whole person, not a broken shell of yourself.”

4. Your Partner Doesn’t Find Small Ways To Keep Moving The Relationship Forward

In order to create a well-balanced and healthy dynamic early on, you shouldn’t be initiating everything as your relationship goes on. If your partner’s interest in the relationship isn’t strong enough to take it to the next level, they may take less of an initiative, be less affectionate, and show less physical closeness. In short, there’s going to be distance and you’re going to feel it.

“Couples should want to see each other, especially in the beginning,” Daniels says. “So if you feel that your partner is straying away or they’re coming up with invalid reasons to cancel plans, then this may be a sign they are losing interest.” If this is an issue, you should discuss this with your partner. You can even offer up a plan where you come up with something to do one weekend, and they come up with something to do the next. But if nothing changes and you’re still the only one moving the relationship forward, they may not be as invested as you are.

5. Your Partner Can’t Be A Shoulder To Lean On

If your partner can't be there for you when you're having a bad day, your relationship won't make it after three months.

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If your partner can’t listen to you and be your shoulder to lean on in those first three months, Daniels says your relationship may not make it long-term. You shouldn’t necessarily dump all your deepest and darkest fears on them right away. But if you’re going through something at work or with your family, they should be there to talk and listen to you.

“This kind of thing is what takes your relationship to the next level,” she says. “It establishes a level of trust and strength for both of you to feel comfort when seeking comfort.” If your partner can’t be that for you, that’s not a great sign. The same goes for them choosing to lean on you during tough times. If you’re not the first person they go to when they hear bad news, they need to vent, or they need someone to lean on, they may not see the relationship as something really serious.

6. They Don’t Make Solid Future Plans With You

A partner who sees a future with you will hint at it through the words they use. Even if they aren’t thinking marriage at this point, they may talk about a future trip that they want to take with you or plans for your birthday in a few months. It’s equally important to pay attention to the follow-through. It’s one thing to say that you should go away together for the weekend, and it’s another to actually book everything and hash out the logistics. If your relationship is one that is destined to get stronger, Coleman says you will make solid plans for the future together. For instance, you may not meet their family within those first three months, but you can make plans for it. But if your partner can’t even commit to making dinner plans for next week, that’s not the best sign.

7. They Don’t Make Your Relationship A Priority

If your partner isn't prioritizing the relationship early on, your relationship isn't going to last.

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“There is much more that goes into maintaining a long term partnership; it’s not just be all about lust and pheromones,” Susan McCord, dating coach and talk show host, tells Bustle. “Relationships take work and need to be nurtured.” As you go further along in your relationship, your partner should be putting a good amount of effort into the relationship. The “busy” excuse won’t cut it. If someone wants to be with you, they’ll make time. You will be a priority.

It’s tough to realize that the person you’re dating isn’t putting in enough effort to be in a committed relationship with you. But as Coleman says, “You can’t keep someone interested if they’re not.” Besides, why waste your time and effort trying to make a relationship happen if it’s not meant to?

On the other hand, it’s so easy to get hung up on timelines, especially when you first start dating. There’s no shame in wanting commitment and exclusivity once you’re realized your feelings. But just remember, every relationship is different. For some, life circumstances will only allow them to have two or three dates over the course of three months. For others, getting engaged after three months just feels right. If your relationship is making you feel anxious because you haven’t done this, this, and that, by your third month together, don’t panic just yet. If you and your partner can openly communicate about where things are at and where it’s going, you’re on the right track.

 

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Love is like Cocaine: The Remarkable, Terrifying Neuroscience of Romance – Part 4

Yes, you really are addicted to love.

Addicted to Grief

The emotional responses to a thorny breakup can resemble the responses to the death of a loved one. You feel weighed down by the memories, the longing, the wistful tears, the chest pain and the aching throughout the whole body. Or you are so outraged that you are lucky not to have a semi-automatic weapon. Or you are ready to go on a secret mission aimed at reversing the terrible outcome. It’s no coincidence that breakups can resemble the death of a loved one. When a loved one dies, you grieve. But death is not the only trigger of grief. Grief can occur after any kind of loss: the loss of a job, a limb, a breast, a home, a relationship.

According to the Kübler-Ross model of grief, also known as “The Five Stages of Grief,” first introduced by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross in her 1969 book,”On Death and Dying,” grief involves five stages: denial, anger, bargaining, sadness, and acceptance. After the loss of a loved one, you may first deny that the person is gone, simply refuse to believe it. Once the truth dawns on you, you may feel outraged and attempt to convince the beloved to come back or beg God or the universe’s spirits to reverse their decision. Once you realize things are not going to change, sadness sets in. Over time you may finally accept what happened. These stages need not occur in this order, and each stage may occur several times. The different emotions can also overlap. You may be angry and in a bargaining mode at the same time, or deny what happened and still feel sad. Philosopher Shelley Tremain captured the complexity of grief well when she wrote on her Facebook site, “Today  would have been my father’s eighty-first birthday. Some days, I think time is on my side, that it’s getting easier to live with losing him. Then, it happens. Sometimes, it’s a figure of speech he was fond of, at other times, I am shaving him, or I look in the mirror and see the features of my face that are his, or we are sitting together holding hands. Just sitting there.”

Sometimes it is nearly impossible to let go of grief. When you continue to grieve a loss for a very long time, your condition is called “complicated (or pathological) grief.” The love story of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert is a heartbreakingly beautiful illustration of complicated grief. Alexandrina Victoria was eighteen when she became Queen of England. Her Uncle, King William IV, had no surviving legitimate children. So Victoria became his heir when he died in 1837. When Prince Albert, her first cousin, visited London in 1839, Victoria immediately fell in love with him. Initially Albert had doubts about the relationship, but he eventually fell in love with her too. The couple got married in February 1840. During the next eighteen years Queen Victoria gave birth to nine children. She loved Albert deeply. Albert was not only a dutiful husband and the father of Victoria’s children, he was also Victoria’s political and diplomatic advisor. For twenty-one years they lived happily together. But the bliss came crashing to a halt when Prince Albert died of typhoid at Windsor on December 14, 1861.

Albert’s death completely destroyed Victoria emotionally. She was overwhelmed by grief and refused to show her face in public for the next three years. People began to question her competence, and many attempted to assassinate her. Victoria finally appeared in public but she refused to wear anything but black and mourned her Prince Albert until her own death in 1901. Victoria’s forty-year-long state of mourning earned her the nickname “The Widow of Windsor.” She never again became the happy and cheerful woman she had been when Albert was alive. In preparation for her own death she asked for two items to be in her coffin: one of Albert’s dressing gowns and a lock of his hair.

Complicated grief is so severe that psychiatrists now consider it for inclusion in the psychiatric manual for diagnosing mental disorders. If you have complicated grief, you have been grieving for six months or more. You furthermore satisfy at least five of the following criteria:

  1. You have obsessive thoughts about aspects of the lost relationship or the person you were with.
  2. You spend a significant amount of time every day or almost every day, thinking about your lost relationship or the person you were with.
  3. You have intense emotional pain, sorrow, pangs, or yearnings related to the lost relationship.
  4. You avoid reminders of the loss, because you know that reminders will cause you pain or make you feel uncomfortable.
  5. You have problems accepting the loss of the relationship.
  6. You have frequent dreams that relate to your lost relationship.
  7. You frequently suffer from deep sadness, depression, or anxiety because of the loss.
  8. You are angry or feel a deep sense of injustice in relation to the lost relationship.
  9. You have difficulties trusting others since the relationship ended.
  10. The loss of the relationship makes it difficult for you to find pleasure in social and routine activities.
  11. Your symptoms make it difficult for you to function optimally on your job, as a parent or in a new relationship.

Complicated grief is emotionally and chemically similar to post-traumatic stress disorder. In fact, some psychiatrists argue that there is no need to include complicated grief as a separate psychological condition. They are variations on the very same disorder, they say. Posttraumatic stress disorder can occur as the result of any traumatic event. The most common traumatic events discussed in the literature on posttraumatic stress are events of war, terrorist attacks, brutal physical and sexual assaults, and traffic accidents. It is not commonly noted that unexpected breakups and other traumatic relationship events can also lead to posttraumatic stress.

Posttraumatic stress disorder is a condition in which you keep reliving the traumatic event— for example, the breakup—avoiding situations that are similar to the one that led to the trauma. You furthermore have difficulties sleeping, you feel angry, you have difficulties focusing, and you suffer from anxiety. To be a clinical case of posttraumatic stress disorder, the symptoms must last more than a month and lead to difficulties functioning socially, on the job, or in other areas of life. Posttraumatic stress disorder is more likely to occur if the adrenaline surge at the time of the event was very intense.

A study published in the May 2008 issue of Neuroimage suggests that complicated grief sometimes occurs because a normal grieving process turns into an addiction. Led by neuroscientist Mary-Frances O’Connor, the team looked at images of the brains of people who satisfied the criteria for complicated grief and people who weren’t grieving and found significantly more activity in the nucleus accumbens of the people with complicated grief. Activity in the nucleus accumbens is associated with addiction.

It may seem strange that you could actually become addicted to emotional pain and a longing for a person who is no longer with you. The researchers suggest that your yearning and sadness may give you some type of pleasure or satisfaction.

Perhaps the turmoil of emotions does really provide some kind of gratification. Perhaps this emotional overflow is addictive. But it is also possible that the increased activity in the nucleus accumbens signifies increased dopamine levels of the sort found in certain anxiety disorders, such as obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD). The classical case of this disorder is one in which the afflicted is obsessed with thoughts of disease and germs and compulsively washes his or her hands after being near other people or anything that could possibly carry microbes. This disorder is associated with low levels of the mood-enhancing chemical serotonin and fluctuating levels of the motivator chemical dopamine. The low levels of serotonin cause anxiety that involves obsessive, jazzy thinking and the dopamine “reward” motivates the afflicted person to behave in compulsive ways.

As people ruminate obsessively over the events leading up to the loss in complicated grief, the condition may turn out to be similar in this respect to obsessive-compulsive disorder. Low levels of serotonin may trigger obsessive thinking, crippling anxiety, and a visceral yearning for the absent person or the irretrievable relationship. The dopamine response elicited by this kind of obsessive thinking and longing may motivate the grief-stricken person to engage in begging and bargaining and it could also ignite anger fits and a ferocious denial of the loss of the relationship.

 

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Wealthy Tech Exec, 30, Describes His Costly Addiction To Asian Massage-Parlor Sex: ‘I Love The Ego-Stroking’

Michael is the founder of a tech startup valued at $10 million. Living alone in a two-bedroom apartment in New York City, the 30-year-old is the picture of success.

But over the past six years, he has shelled out more than $20,000 on his weekly vice: visits to massage parlors for sex.

In light of Patriots’ owner Robert Kraft’s recent charge of solicitation at a Florida spa, Michael (who asked that his name be changed) tells Phicklephilly about what he calls his “addiction.”

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I’m a typical millennial guy. I live in the Village, work in tech, hang out with my friends — but I suppose what sets me apart is my rub-and-tug addiction:

In New York, you can get anything you want. On the same block, you can go to the hardware store, grab avocado toast and get a happy ending, all before 11 a.m. One of my go-to places is right next to a fancy sushi restaurant that charges $60 for a caviar roll. It’s so easy to get anything, that it’s also easy not to think what I’m doing is wrong.

It all started after my longtime girlfriend and I broke up six years ago. I needed instant gratification — and I found it in the massage parlor. The sex just happened. I didn’t even have to ask for it. It was so transactional, I figured it was harmless.

Within a few months, my visits became a regular thing.

It’s the same thing every time, the flirty greeting of “Hey, baby boy.” Then I lie on the bed and it’s back massage, leg massage, flip over, tug, clean up, out. Forty dollars for the house, forty for the tip. There’s a mutual understanding that this is part of the scope of services.

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If I’m being honest, my addiction has held me back in dating. I’ve never had trouble meeting women. When I started, apps like Tinder were starting to get popular, but I didn’t want to wait to meet up with a girl, go on a date and woo her. I just wanted to get to the sex.

The paid experiences have ruined me.

I went out with a woman last summer and she used her hand on me. But it was awful, and just not the same as a professional.

I love the ego-stroking I get at the massage parlor, the way they call you “big boy.” You almost trick yourself into thinking that the masseuse is into you. There’s also the illicit thrill of getting away with it. One time the masseuse gave me oral sex with a condom on. It’s exciting — kind of underground and crazy that it’s happening at all.

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I have to admit, it’s easier not to know the real-life circumstances of these women working in the massage parlors. If they’re forced to do this against their will, that’s horrible. But who wants to think about that when you’re just trying to escape for a bit?

I can’t deny that doing that job all day has to be gross, disgusting.

When I first heard about Robert Kraft, I was shocked. He’s 77. If I’m still doing this in my 70s, that’s just sad. It also really made me consider the legal consequences. I just assumed that the act isn’t technically illegal because I’ve never had to ask for it.

The expense can be easy to justify, too: Maybe the $20,000 I’ve spent helped me focus on my business, netting me 10 times that amount in productivity.

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But sometimes when I think about the money I’ve spent, I get mad at myself. I’m definitely too dependent on it. I’m addicted. Instead of going out with friends after work, I’ll go to the massage place.

I’ve been in Miami for a month for work, and I’ve done it down here three times after searching for Asian massage parlors online. You look for telltale signs like photos of hot girls. It’s also a dead giveaway when you have to ring through two doorbells just to walk in.

If I was dating someone, I like to think I would stop — but I don’t know.

 

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My Experience at an Asian Massage Parlor

Here’s a story one of my followers sent me…

Thank you Joe R.

So during the summer of my junior year I was staying in in town over the summer working as a certified nursing assistant and taking a chemistry course through the university. I had joined a gym to get back into shape and maybe lose a couple pounds. It had been awhile since I weight-lifted and anyone who’s been in that boat knows how sore you are after the first couple times getting back on the horse.

While, on my drive to work out, I kept passing a dilapidated white building with a bright red sign reading “Asian Massage” on the outside. I mean, this thing was a glorified shack. The first time I passed by gave me a chuckle. The stereotypical Asian massage parlor with happy endings had long been ingrained in my mind. I had seen plenty of jokes and portrayals of the places in pop culture, but I took them with a grain of salt. Surly most things like that hold some grain of truth, but I was skeptical any but a small fraction actually operated like that. Still….it got me thinking.

I would like to say that my reasoning for my trip there the following week was purely out of rationality. I was really sore and stiff from working out. The parlor was close and probably didn’t charge as much as some of the…..we’ll go with, more established massage businesses in the area. Although, to be truthful with myself, it was mainly out of curiosity. Now, did I go in there expecting anything, not at all. It was surly in the back of my mind, but I thought the stereotype was overblown. There also wasn’t anyway I was going to ask about it. How would one even go about doing something like that? There is also a conception that Asian massages are rougher, which is exactly what I needed for my sore muscles. The expectation was I would get a good massage and at least be able to put some context to the stereotype.

*Disclaimer: When I refer to Asian massage, I simply mean a massage where the techniques are derived from Chinese or Asian culture and not necessarily performed by a person of Asian descent, although that it true a majority of the time.

Back to the story,

I parked my car in one of the two spots they had and gained my composure for a minute. I could feel the butterflies rising in my stomach and felt my heartbeat picking up. I felt as though I was breaking the law or guilty of some misdeed as I did have a girlfriend at the time. I thought for a moment to just leave and get a massage somewhere else, but my damn curiosity wouldn’t let me. I needed to know. So, I entered the dimply lit building.


Complete exaggeration, but might have well been the place with how I felt going in

There was a stairwell that led upstairs and then a door that I presumed was the parlor. I entered the later and was met by a dark room with a counter and couch and several doors jetting out from there. Traditional Chinese decoration covered the walls and music played prominently throughout. I was greeted at the counter by a middle-aged woman with a thick accent.

“Welkom, welkom, do you have an appointment”.

I managed to stammer out a “no”. My eyes were wide with a combination of discomfort and naivety.

She said that was okay and pointed to a chart with different times, prices and what each massage entailed. She started to explain them. I simply choose the half hour option because it was the cheapest. She then led me to a back room that held a massage table and chair with a stereo that played the music. She asked If I ever had a massage before. I hadn’t and she told me to put my clothes there and then get under the sheets. I asked, “all my clothes”? She said yes, then swiftly exited. I could hear her talking to another woman in Chinese.

I started taking off my clothes, throwing them on the chair, but stopped at my boxers. Surly she didn’t mean EVERYTHING, just down to my boxers. Although, I did ask all clothes. Never having a massage before I didn’t know if that was normal. At first it didn’t seem like that would be the case, but you did get under a towel so it wasn’t like you were exposed or anything. I needed to make a decision so I went with the full nude option.

At this point you might be reading and thinking dude, really? Full Nude? You think that was reasonable? To those I say yes, at the time, but thinking about it in hindsight, probably not the norm.

Anywho, I’m settled in and finally breathe a sigh of relaxation just before she returns. I let my head sink into the hole with my body going limp. She enters and immediately begins giggling.

“Oh no silly, too many towels”. She immediately rips them off me! Exposing my naked body on the table.

I shoot up completely nude and for a couple seconds she just stares at me and I back at her. I watch her gaze travel the length of my body as I try to cover up, then she begins laughing again. This time even more.

“It okay, it okay, not all clothes but okay. Here, lie on the table”. I sheepishly jump back on the table and begin to apologize. I was embarrassed to say the least. She took her sweet time placing the smaller towel to cover me then left the room again. I was cursing myself for being so stupid. She left for a moment and outside I could hear her talking and laughing with another employee in Chinese (undoubtedly about me). She returned and started the massage. It started out really nice, with oil and stretching out my limbs and deep tissue massages to my muscles. I was sinking into relaxation and starting to forget about the awkward start.

She asked where I worked and other common conversation mannerisms. The first question she asked though was where I was from. I paused for a moment because I could try to use my origin to explain earlier, implying that it was perhaps different in other cultures. I blurted out Nigeria, the first African country I could think of, and she gave a long, “oohhhh”.

Disclaimer 2: I do not think it is normal cultural practice that Nigerians, or for that fact other African cultures have the practice of getting naked during a massage, but I needed a culture foreign to her and my skin tone funneled me to that answer.

I quickly followed up with, “I moved when I was younger” to account for my lack of accent.

The massage continued without incident until she got on top of the table startling my back and sitting on my butt. I was a little confused because that seemed an outside the bounds of what a normal massage would be and of course in my previse mind ushered in other thoughts of what could be going on.

I wasn’t able to think too much more as a jackhammer plunged into my back. 

My head shot up from the table. I wanted to let out a yell from the pain, but I didn’t want to be rude or seem like a wimp, so I bit my tongue. Another shot came down right on my spine. What the hell was this woman trying to do, paralyze me? I started to think it was punishment for my earlier embarrassment. The pain train went right on trucking as elbows were buried deep into my pressure points. That soon subsided thankfully and I let out a breath. For a few moments I felt relaxed and loose, the beating was a good pain. But no sooner did I relax, then my arm was twisted back. It was pulled into a position I don’t ever think it has gone, nor will again and I kid you not I thought my arm was about to tear or pull out of the socket. She must’ve felt my body convulse because she let up almost immediately. The stretching continued for a little while and then she left the room again. She left the room several times during the massage to talk to what must’ve been another employee because I could hear them. They sounded like they were arguing. I kept thinking it was about me and I hoping it didn’t cut into my half an hour.

She returned and finished the massage with a more relaxing touch, culminating with an abrupt , “all done”. It was a fast half hour and I wanted longer, but It was worth it. She left the room again and I put on my clothes. When I emerged, and approached the front counter she asked how I liked it and I told her very much. It was just what I needed for my sore muscles and it really was. For how unorthodox it seemed, I really felt amazing. While paying she told me next time to come back for an hour and they would do my front. My head shot up from counting my money and she just smiled back. Well hot damn, maybe there was something to these places after all……

Hope you enjoyed and got a laugh steemians. If by some lottery chance this gets 100 upvotes I will share what happened when I returned to this parlor.

 

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Racquel Writes! There Is Enough to Go Around

via There Is Enough to Go Around

 

http://www.racquelwrites.com

 

 

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Theresa – Halloween

 

Here’s another random blast from the distant past…

There was a girl at the place I worked. She claimed she had an abusive boyfriend. I encouraged her to leave him because she didn’t deserve that. She says she left him and needs someone to talk to. We go out a few times. We start seriously dating. We have a stupid five month anniversary date planned for Halloween.

She calls and says she can’t make it on account of work and will be too tired afterwards. The next day she calls me over to talk. (That’s never good) When I get there she informs me that she wasn’t at work she was fucking her ex all day and they’re getting back together. We get into a shouting match. She’s not responsible; Bullshit. They have history; Yeah, he hit her. He never really hit her; Lying snake. Why am I so mad; Because she’s a trollop. And so on. I left (Yes, in the heat of the moment I wanted to hit her. (Not really!) That’s why I left. Should I be applauded for that? No, it’s just something that happened. I shouldn’t have ever admitted to feeling anything. I’m sorry.) and she spent the day begging me to come back. I refused to speak to her because I was angry and confused and needed some space.

Naturally when she can’t reach me she calls into work and claims I sexually assaulted her. I don’t know this, go to work, and get taken aside. The company is concerned about the allegations and wants to call the cops. I swear it was an ongoing relationship, completely consensual, and they didn’t need to call the cops. They point out we’re still both employees and the company can’t have us both working there if it is true. There are liabilities to consider and the police will sort everything out. I’ll just sit in jail for a couple of days while they do that. So, I offer to quit in exchange for them not calling the police as I really didn’t want to go to jail. I was in an independent contractor position. I didn’t even really work for them. The company didn’t need to get involved. This is a private issue. They agree and let me go under the condition that if they ever see me again they’re calling the cops on me for harassing her. I go home, crawl into bed and pray for death.

A little less than a week later she emails to tell me her boyfriend told her she couldn’t see me so she wants to see me to make sure I’m okay. I explain that I’m not okay because she is a lying cheating whore who ruined my life and I wish all the evil in the world upon her (Yes, including that her boyfriend would actually beat her to death. It’s shocking I know but I liked her less now than before and was still hurt so I said mean things to her. I’m literally Hitler and Satan’s bastard child right?) and want nothing to do with her. She claims nothing that happened was her fault, he made her say I raped her, and the beatings have gotten worse. I din’t respond.

 

 

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Sun Stories – Chanel – American Gypsy – Part 1

It was late on a Wednesday night. I had worked at the salon the day before from open to close. That’s 10am to 8pm on your feet. To some that may seem like a long day, but I revel in it. I get up early, go out to breakfast then head to Wawa for all the food I need for the day. (Which is normally too much) I get a sandwich, some fruit, chips, a can of soda and a desert. That worked just fine yesterday.

The reason I had to work all day at the salon alone, was because the gym we’re trying to open in the front of our shop is in conflict with the folks upstairs.  They have a cardio gym up there and they are suing us and the landlord for $50,000 to cease and desist. It’s a joke and we know it, but Achilles needs to go to court until we resolve it.

It’ll be fine… they don’t have a leg to stand on. They’re just afraid we’ll take business from them but our fitness center is all strength training and has nothing to do with what they do.

So here I am on a Wednesday doing my thing when the phone rings. It’s around 7:00pm.

“Thank you for calling Sunlight Tanning, This is Charles, how can I help you?”

I hear a youthful, girlish voice on the line.

“Hi. I want to go tanning and I forget where you are.”

This is a common dilemma for people. We used to be up on 16th Street near Steve’s Prince of Steaks but we’ve moved down to the shopping district on Walnut Street.

“We’re at 1234 Walnut Street second floor over Shaffer’s clothing store.”

“I used to go to you to tan… near a pizza place. Where are you?”

At this moment I realize this girl formerly went to a place that was near our old location, called “Sun Myst” which is a piece of shit tanning salon that does nails, threading, cryo and who knows what else to stay afloat. Their tanning beds are junk, the staff is surly, and they are more expensive that we are. I see a potential sale here so I go in teeth out and dorsal fin up.

Oh, you mean Sun Myst near Joe’s Pizza.

Oh, yes… thank you… (Ready to hang up. Sales God instincts kick in to steal from a competitor)

We have the best equipment to get you tan and have better prices than they do. What do you pay there?”

“How much for one UV?”

“$17 for one but $40 for five and they’re good for three months.”

“Oh. I only want one to try it.”

“Okay, we have state of the equipment to get you dark.”

“Oooh I want that! Sounds good!

I’m on the wireless house phone walking into the front of our business which is the gym. The machines stand silent. We can’t open our gym because of the lawsuit. I think of that as I walk toward the  windows that over look Walnut street.  A lovely view of the shopping district. It’s alive with people. We are mired in legal troubles but it’s the only quiet space in the salon because we have no members yet.

“Do you have lotions I can use to make me darker before I tan to make my color come out?”

“We have an array of product like that. (I smile)

“Okay. Where are you again?”

“1234 Walnut Street. 2nd Floor.”

“Okay, I’ll try you guys.”

“$17 for one. $40 for five good for three months.”

” I only want to do one to try it.”

“Tell you what. You do a single and a packet of my best lotion I’ll knock 10% off so the whole experience will be $22.

“Oh my, yes! see you soon!”

“Okay, well if you get lost on the way here call us again.”

“Okay I’m Chanel. Thank you.”

“I’m Charles… nice to meet you Chanel. I hope you come to our salon.”

 

“Hey , I’m underage. I’m only 17. Can I still come?”

 

Okay, my loyal readers this is where the rubber meets the road. Because without parental consent we are breaking the law tanning a person under the age of 18.

 

“Nah it’s cool. I’ll let you tan, dear. But we just need to discuss that when you get here. Okay?

“Mmm… thank you Charles.”

 

I’m on the phone with this girl who has already been tanning at a competitor and hates the experience and has been paying too much. As a sales guy I need to destroy my competitors and covet their clients. She’s only coming in for one, so I’ll figure it out when and if she even shows up.

It’s 7:50pm which is the witching hour for tanning salons. We don’t want anybody coming in at closing because we’ll never get out of here on time.

I’m mopping the floors and folding towels out of the dryer when there is a knock at the door.

There through the glass is a very pretty Eastern European girl  in a t-shirt, sweat pants and sneakers.

“Hey, hello. I’m sorry I’m late. Are you closing? I’m Chanel.”

Chanel, the 17-year-old minor I spoke to on the phone. She was beautiful. Raven black hair. The T-shirt said I love Zombies.

 

This one looked like she was fun and trouble all rolled into one delicious pastry.

 

Tune in tomorrow for the jarring conclusion…

 

 

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A Unique Gift – Chapter 1

This is part one of a new series I want to write that mixes mind control with transformation elements. This is the first time I have written something primarily based on mind control and while this first part is very smut heavy later parts will have more focus on the mind control aspects for other purposes (as well as smut). I hope you enjoy and please give me feedback, it would really help!

*****

Jack sighed as he made his way to college. At nineteen he felt he should have more of a handle of his life than he did. He was stuck taking classes he didn’t enjoy and working a job he hated to pay for those classes. He had barely any friends and he hadn’t had sex in almost a year. Overall life was pretty dull. He sat down in his least favorite class, economics. Not only did he find the subject exceptionally boring it was taught by his least favorite teacher Miss Jameson.

She was extremely attractive and Jack, like most guys in the class, had grinned when they first saw her walk into their classroom. She was tall, just shy of six feet tall, with long legs, curved hips, a small waist and generously sized breasts. There had been quite the debate over whether they were D or DD. She didn’t just have the body, she had the face to match. She was very pretty with green eyes that was typical of someone with her red hair which she always wore in a neat bun.

Obviously with a teacher like that it was no surprise all the guys had been excited when they first saw her but it had been short lived. They had all soon realized she was a complete bitch. Always serious, always angry and always willing to berate her students for the most minor of transgressions. Jack had quickly learnt to keep his head down, keep quiet and stay under her radar. Which for the most part had worked. He folded his arms and rested them on his desk with his chin perched on top of them as she began her lecture.

She droned on and Jack felt himself getting sleepy as he listened. He wasn’t in the mood to take notes so instead he rested his head on his arms. He didn’t even realize he had fallen asleep until he suddenly heard someone shouting, loudly. He looked up to find the whole room staring at him and Miss Jameson seething with anger.

“I’m sorry am I boring you?” She asked.

“No sorry,” Jack apologized. This was the last thing he needed today.

“So what have I spent the last ten minutes talking about?” Miss Jameson asked. Jack tried to think, he looked at the clock and felt a pang of panic, he had been asleep for almost forty minutes.

“I don’t know,” he admitted to much smirking from his class mates.

“Come see me this evening, we need to have a talk about your performance in this class,” Miss Jameson clipped before turning to the rest of the room and continuing her class. Jack groaned, the last thing he wanted was to spend another hour with her at the end of the day. It wasn’t like detention like back in high school, no that was easy. Turn up, sit there for an hour, catch up on homework and leave. No this was worse. This was going to be an hour of being lectured and berated by the queen bitch.

By the time he got home Jack was exhausted. He made his way back to his house, which was a short drive from campus. It was the only time in his life he had ever been lucky. It was actually his sisters house, she was seven years older than him and seemed to be the lucky one of the family. She had graduated from the same college he was now attending and landed and extremely high paying job, which to Jacks fortune, meant she would be spending most of the next four years out of the country.

As such she had let Jack live in her house. It was close to the college and meant that she didn’t have to sell her house or worry about leaving it vacant for months at a time. So other than a few weekends here and there when she would be home, Jack had the house to himself. He unlocked the door and almost missed the small box someone had hidden behind the plant pot by the door. He picked it up, briefly wondering what was in the small package and went inside. He put the package down and made himself some dinner.

 

https://lapetitemort17.wordpress.com/?p=80

 

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Another Life – Chapter 1

This was originally going to be two separate stories, but they overlap (as you’ll see), so I decided to combine them. This story is also set in the distant past, before PCs and the internet … back when a record was something that sat on a turntable …

– “So, Joe … c-can you help me out?”

That was how it all started.

Marty was a short, paunchy nerd with a speech impediment – a stutter that came and went. He was understandably shy in social in social situations.

In Grade 9, on Initiation Day, I stepped in between Marty and two bullies who wanted to use his head to clean a toilet. I wish I could tell you that I kicked their asses – but I was the one who got my clock cleaned. Oh, I got in a couple of shots, but Marty did the most damage when he bit one of them hard enough to draw blood.

It would be nice, too, to report that the student body respected our courage, and that initiations were strictly forbidden from them on.

Yeah, right. We were suspended for 3 days, and got a reputation for being a couple of psychos. We probably weren’t going to fit in with the popular kids anyway, but that incident certainly accelerated the process.

Marty was a nerd, and I … I was never there. From the age of 13, I’d had a part-time job (and sometimes two). Right after school, I went off to work. All day Saturday, too.

It was my stepmother’s idea, really. I think that she just wanted me out of the house. Then, a few years later, she got the brilliant idea that I should pay rent, because I had money. My Dad was too whipped to object.

– “It’ll be a valuable lesson for him.” she said.

– “It’ll be a good experience for you, Joseph.” said Dad.

The fuck it was. Stacking shelves at the grocery store, pumping gas, or carrying roof tiles up a ladder all summer doesn’t teach you much, except how hard it can be to earn an honest dollar – or how much of your school’s social life you miss when you’re always at work.

That meant no sports, no clubs, no extracurriculars of any kind. Marty and I were both socially invisible. But there was always that bond between us.

In some cultures, if you save a man’s life, then you become responsible for him. I have to admit that I felt something like that towards him. And Marty … well, let’s just say that he went out of his way to pay me back.

In my senior year, I had to consider my options. I wasn’t sure that I could afford college. Dad finally spoke to his younger brother about me. Ray was a grease monkey at a downtown garage. He was a damn good mechanic, though, and when he put in a good word for me, his boss took me on part-time.

– “Don’t fuck this up, Joeseph.” said Uncle Ray. “You do, an’ you make us both look bad.”

– “I won’t.” I promised.

I cleaned up the garage, learned how to change tires, and do oil changes. I was also Joe Fetchit if anyone needed a tool, or a coffee, or a donut … and I went home dirty every night. But it paid better than most of the jobs I’d had – and I was actually learning something. Most of the guys were pretty decent to me, too.

So maybe that was how Marty and I connected – talking about cars. We started to hang out a bit. He regularly came over to pick me up, if we got up to anything. I never asked – God’s honest truth – Martin suggested it, every single time.

– “I’ll swing by and pick you up.” He must’ve said it a hundred times.

I was 18, but looked older, so I was the designated beer-buyer (Fake ID wasn’t readily available, back in the day). It was a mutually beneficial partnership, but I think I benefited more. What I’m trying to say is that I owed Marty quite a few favors, for all the times he’d driven me all over hell’s half-acre. He’d even lent me his car to go for my driver’s exam.

That was why, when Marty asked for my help, I didn’t hesitate.

– “So, Joe… c-can you help me out?”

– “Sure. What do you need?”

– “Will you … d-double date with me, Joe?”

– “WHAT?” I couldn’t have been more shocked. As far as I knew, Marty had never even come close to having a girlfriend.

– “I met her at church.” he said. Then the words came out – all in a rush. “She’s really cute. But shy. More shy than me. I think I like her, but if I ask her out alone she’ll probably say no.”

I was afraid that he was going to hyper-ventilate. “Slow down, Marty! Breathe …”

– “She lives near you. Close enough for you to walk. But I can swing by and pick you up. I already told her that my best friend lived nearby, and that we might ‘drop in’ on Sunday.”

– “Good for you, Marty. That’s great. Keep breathing. What do you need me to do?”

– “Well, she’s got sisters. Her parents will let go out, but only if her sisters go, too.”

– “Like chaperones.”

– “Something like that.”

– “So you need me to run interference? Keep the sisters busy? I can do that. Give me the bad news, then.”

– “What bad news?

– “Tell me the truth. How ugly are they? And don’t tell me they have nice personalities – that’s a dead giveaway.”

– “They’re not ugly.” It sounded like he was telling the truth, but I could have sworn that he was hiding something.

– “Come clean. Details.”

– “The older sister is 19. Her name is Samantha. I swear, she’s cute. And there’s also the younger sister – Tanya – she’s only 16.”

– “Three sisters? And you want me to keep two of them busy.”

– “C-Can you help me out, Joe?

– “Sure, Marty. What are friends for?” After all, I thought – how bad could it be?

– “Thanks, man.” he said. “This means a l-lot to me.”

 

https://lapetitemort17.wordpress.com/?p=365

 

Thank you for reading my blog. Please read, like, comment, and most of all follow Phicklephilly. I publish every day.

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