Things and More

First:

There were so many thoughtful, emotional replies to my last post that I still have tears in my eyes having read them. There were so many replies, in fact, that I can't respond to them all. I just don't have the time. But to all of you who expressed your understanding and your sympathy: thank you! And to those of you who were jerks: you're a dime a dozen. It's the people that care that are rare.

Second:

I hope I can keep updating this site. I really do. But ever since the site moved off of ASSTR it has been at the mercy of, well... money. I don't have any money. And I don't have the skills (or intelligence) to learn how to get this site to make money. The Storymaster was supposed to do that, but he (understandably-- he just had a baby!) decided to quit working with me. So this site might be gone soon. Shrugs... I'm not sure how to feel about this! I need this site, I love this site... but if it were gone, maybe I'd feel less annoyed. I don't know. I'll probably just act out in wose ways, knowing me.

Third:

I fuck a lot of people. I bet I've fucked more men than most women ever do... I just like it. There. That's me, in a nutshell. I love getting fucked. I love fucking. And I'm a smart girl. You'd think I would take precautions to prevent things like STD's and pregnancy.

And I do. Condoms are King from where I come from. I've never gotten an STD (thank GOD). But about a month ago I got a yeast infection.

I never get these. I mean, I have once before, maybe even twice-- but it's never a big enough deal to warrant seeing a doctor. Well, this time it was. My flow got really heavy, and then I formed this lump near my vagina (right next to the slit). It was all red and nasty... and it hurt, so bad, even from the lightest touch. And it was the lump that scared me the most. I worried that I had vaginal warts or something. I seriously thought it was an STD.0

Inserting tampons became so gross, I won't even write about it. Suffice to say, I watched this "growth" in detail. Not only was it gross, but it hurt. Touching it hurt. And it was so close to my... well, you get the idea. Anything that had to do with my pussy hurt because of that little fucker. I wanted to pop it like a zit, but even the slightest contact made me scream in pain. It was so close to my entry that fucking got undescribably painful.

Then it went away. I mean, one day it was there, the next it was gone. And I was happy! Whoo-hoo! But I had made an appointment with my gynocologist. He inspected me, ruled out any STD (yes!), but then said I had a yeast infection. I was so relived, you have no idea!!!

He gave me prescriptions. That should have been that. But then he said that he "might as well" give me a "full" exam.

So he did. And he found out I'm pregnant.

Okay. I've been pregnant twice before. The first time I was only 11-years-old, so that doesn't count. The second time was about a year ago (I only told a few people-- those of that I told who are reading this know who you are). Both times I had abortions.

This time... what the fuck is a girl to do?

I'm not even supposed to be able to get pregnant. But I am. My doctor fingered (I mean, examined) me for a good while, ruled out any STD, prescribed medicine (don't ask) for the yeast infection, and then gave me the supposedly good news.

I find out on Wednesday how far along I am. I'm actually curious. My doc said that I'm at least seven weeks along now, though, which rules out... well. Well.

So I'm pregnant.

The father of this child could be anyone. That doesn't... I mean it does, but like, it doesn't, really, concern me.

I can't abort this one. I can't. Please don't try to tell me I can. I have to give birth to this baby. I can feel her inside me already; I didn't feel this the other times. I have to let her come out, and experience. Experience.

I can't keep her though. Hell no. I wish I could. It breaks my heart that I can't.

I think I'd be a good mother. I really think so.

I would love her. I do love her. And I'd know how to protect her. It would be like... I could go back, and defend myself. I could like, you know... be for her what I never had.

But how selfish would it be for me to keep her? How can I keep her? I can't. I'm so... crazy. She deserves more. Better. She deserves better.

I'm going to be a mom. That's so fucked... up. So...

I know that I really can't, but I think that I can feel her moving around in me right now. This makes me smile. It makes me smile.

-shannon-

Regulars

I know it's been a while since I posted here or showed up on the forum or made my presence known at all, but you're just going to have to forgive me for that. Things have been crazy! Read on to know why.

In early February I decided I was in love with Matt. Then I found out from a mutual friend that not only had he not dumped his supposed quasi-girlfriend, he had actually made plans with her to go to Florida for vacation. Obviously I tried to confront him on this since the two of us had been fucking for a couple of weeks, but another mutual friend let him know that I knew he was still all about that girl. He wouldn't return my phone calls and I haven't seen him since.

I felt really dumb about all this, obviously. I mean... God! I totally trusted him and believed him. Turns out he was just using me for sex. He figured I was easy... and he figured right. He had me convinced he wanted me to be his girlfriend when, in fact, all he cared about was getting into my pants. And I even knew he had a girlfriend... but I bought all his bullshit about her being nothing, someone he hardly talked to, a girl who'd become obsessed with him for no reason. Nope.

The worst thing is that his real girlfriend is awesome. She's in grad school, she's hot, she comes from money, and she's all about him in a totally mature way. Part of me wanted to tell her about him and I, but he really did play his cards right. How?

A couple weeks after the last time I saw him, I was pretty angry and getting to the point that I was going to rat him out to his gf, just for that sweet feeling of revenge. Laura and a few of my other friends told me I should. I remember that I was at the club, dancing on stage more energetically than ever, and only because the thoughts of revenge kept swimming in my head. I even felt happy, in a sick, vengeful sort of way, at the idea of Matt getting dumped by the girl who was so much better than me that he would choose her instead of yours truly...

But on that very night, guess who came into the club? Matt? Yep. His girlfriend? Yep. About six of his closest friends, all of whom I knew? Yep.

Imagine having to dance naked in front of people like that. Matt. His gf. His friends. I couldn't do it. When their eyes locked on me I came offstage and went into the back.

They left soon after, and I went back to work. But I knew, then, that I couldn't rat him out to his girlfriend anymore. After all, she'd seen me doing my thing. She'd seen me naked, thrusting my ass out for wrinkled dollar bills. She would never believe me over him, not after seeing me like that.

Turns out they'd come there because it was one of Matt's friend's birthday, and he'd insisted. I had thought it was a coincidence that they came to my club at first. After all, I had never told Matt I was a stripper.

Turns out I was screwed again. Paul, my former roommmate and the guy I'd previously thought I loved, had told him where I worked. How did I know it was Paul who told him? Because Paul is the only person who knows both of us who knew, at that point anyway.

I realized all this shortly after. That Paul had told Matt about me, I mean. Paul had come home drunk one night, fucking lit I should say, and he got all touchy-feely with me on the couch as I watched Gone With the Wind on his nice big plasma TV. I was in a depressed, sad mood that night (hence the choice of film), so I told him to quit it. He got mad, but I didn't take it personally because he was drunk.

But one thing he said during his drunken rant had to do with me and Matt. So... yeah. Shortly after that I get Matt and his posse at my work. You connect the dots. I did. And when I got home that night I screamed at Paul and said a bunch of things I probably shouldn't have said. The next day I moved out.

So Matt and Paul sort of both betrayed me. Lol... so many ppl write me asking why my characters in TTT are always betrayed, always screwed, always hurt. To all of you: Do you get it now? I write what I know.

Well... Matt definitely betrayed me. Maybe with Paul, though, I... I don't know. Maybe I jumped the gun, maybe I over-reacted. Initially, at least. In the end, though, had he been a real friend, well, I wouldn't have had to move away with less than $200 to my name.

The first night out of Paul's I slept at Laura's. But I knew that couldn't go on long; Laura hates chaos. I have to hide my chaos from her, and when I can't, she crumbles. And anyway, she didn't have the room for the two of us.

So two days after staying with her I went to stay with Star. After all this time, and even though she didn't really like me anymore, she let me move in. That was... well, unexpected and totally awesome. You might remember that Star and I sort of drifted apart after I took a job at the "snobby" strip club, after she gave so much time and effort preparing me to work at her, less classy one. Well, God bless her she didn't hold anything against me but took me in since I had nowhere else to go.

A few days after living with her and her kid, I quit my job and began working at the club she worked at instead. I mean, it was close enough that I could walk to it and back. Plus... well, why not. Why not. I'm going to strip naked somewhere, might as well be at the place my new roommate does.

I've been living at Star's ever since. Until yesterday I've had no internet access, because she doesn't even have a computer. So that's my excuse for not being around. But even though I do have high speed internet now, I'm not promising I'll be around a lot. Things are just too weird.

I'm going to just come right out and say this. No, I'm not. I'm going to blab on for a bit first. I can't just say this. I wish I could but I cannot. God, how lame am I?!? This site is supposed to let me vent about the things in my life I can't vent to to anyone else. Or at least, to admit things I can't admit to anyone else. Yet since I feel I know you all so well, I'm totally fucking scared you're going to hate me if I tell you what I really want and need to tell you; the only reason I even started posting this, besides the fact I now have internet access, is because... I've been trying to avoid this, to avoid telling this, because if you know this you'll fucking hate me or at least think less of me, I mean, okay... everytime I tell something about me that's bad or sick or perverted I get mixed e-mails, I get ones in support of me as me, but I also get the ones I hate, the ones that are probably more true, the ones that tell me I'm a slut and that I should just bend over and take it because that's what I am, and you know, I know I'm not a slut, I mean, maybe I am, perhaps I am! but does that matter? I love sex, but maybe worse is when some of you write to me saying that I'm self destructive, because that's probably true but frankly I just don't want to fucking hear it. I DO NOT WANT TO HEAR IT.

Through Star's club, my new work, I've become a prostitute.

There.

It started on my second night there. This guy asked for a dance and after three began kneading my tits as I dry-humped him. Okay. No biggie. But then he kissed them. At the other club, that's a big no-no. At this one I had noticed it going on a lot.

So I let him. Then he touched me, under my thong. He finger-fucked me for two more songs.

And on that night, I let another guy do the same thing. The next night, I made out with a guy, french kissed him, and slid my hand under his pants to feel his cock. I did this all night long.

I gave many a hand job before I went further. I had many men cum in my hand before I realized... shit. Why not go further? Why not do... whatever.

This is how it is now: At the end of every shift, I make a call. If no one answers, I call someone else. I keep calling until someone agrees to pick me up. Who are these guys? Clients, from throughout the night. Men who've promised me the moon and given a number in return for...

I wait outside the club and they pick me up and we sometimes go to their place; sometimes we go to a motel; sometimes we just drive to a quiet spot. But I fuck them, or suck them, and they pay me good money to do so.

I've totally become a prostitute and a whore. I've been so ashamed of myself that I haven't spoken to any of my real friends in weeks. Laura-- no. Jack-- no. And there are at least five others, people I should but can't because it breaks my heart to mention.

On the bright side, I have a lot of money right now. Cash, good hard cash. And living with Star isn't that bad. I just hate dealing with children!!!

Didn't you all see this coming, btw? Me... well. Next I'll be doing porn.

-shannon-