Tag: OnlyFans

Chronicle 165 ~Obedience Comes Easier Than Breathing~

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Not to get all racial or woke, but I’m the black workhorse at my Day Job, um mule. My manager is black, but the CEO is a white lady. So when’s the last time I made a real choice? Only me? Braxton’s death? “Obedience Comes Easier Than Breathing.”

Monday, December 13, 2021

Chronicle 165 ~Obedience Comes Easier Than Breathing~

Two-Hundred and Eighteenth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now, which means I answer to no one. Well, shareholders, if I’m in business. But to be God…

I’m a BELIEVER… NOT. Only I know why men made God in their own image and not vice versa. A white man, giving brown people orders. The same guy, trying to save the Jewish people from themselves. And who takes credit for everything. America, America. Hell, thinking is hard work. This is why most people tend not to do it. A long time ago (a couple of weeks), I didn’t. I could pump my ears full of music or listen to people speak of imaginary worlds. Obeying my “superiors” was easy. Without this J? RAGE!!! Every day I become more and more of a Republican. Not in ideology but in practice. When you disagree… it feels like dying or killing.

Dangerous words, I know, Madam. Now Braxton was the best boss I ever had. “Then you’ll find your servant is your master,” as the song goes. I swear I became a savant of his doggie language. A soldier, faithful and loyal. A sling, carrying him around, my son B III. When he stopped breathing, I swear I stopped too. Who was in charge? It’s like that episode of The Twilight Zone circa 2002 “The Path.” Braxton could read me, and through him AHEM, “I believe I can see the future.” I did what was needed to keep us going, J. Now what’s left to me now is the breathing, and you know how I am about that most days. I don’t want to, I’m afraid to, it hurts a lot.

But I’m in charge. Stupid me beats out my manager, managing Olds, pairs of mammaries. We, of course, know that’s a lie because I’ll be going back to my Day Job at some point, Madam. If anything, I must obey my Olds, or I’m homeless a loser at thirty-seven, Madam. Mammaries, Yabbos, Tits, you ask me why I’m sitting here naked planning on working on my Stuff And Thangs today. Did I, honest to God, believe; I was going to be an OnlyFans star? Nope but that’s what I get for listening to one head instead of the other, Madam. Once I read everything is about sex, but sex is about power. Our ultimate obedience is to power, not life. Obedience Comes Easier Than Breathing

316 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 162 ~B There Bad Stories~

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Most of the stories I write end in a brothel someplace. And I won’t dare to say I’m one to write a harem romance. As for this month, I’ll only be reading Christmas “stories.” And hoping by the end, well… not looking for miracles. B There Bad Stories.

Friday, December 10, 2021

Chronicle 162 ~B There Bad Stories~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but I’ll never tell the story of inherited wealth. I work. The Day Job’s the worst.

So I tell myself an even worse tale. Today while I was buried in boxes, of course, I thought of those last few minutes before I resigned my son to one. I ignored everything else. Sophia, if I had done that before and focused on B III, he would still be with me. I mean more than spirit. How long am I going to tell this story, hmm? Nothing’s more horrible. You’re asking about good stories. I tried that while I was buying coffee for Cherry. Sad that my paycheck has never been that big. It was only because of 3 paid vacation days, ha. America, America. If you wonder why I have been avoiding the news for some time now. End of the world…

Please, my world ended on Sunday, January 31, 2021, at around 3:30 – 3:45 PM. The Revolution Will Not Be Televised. Watch World War III On Pay TV. No, I’m not scared. Yet another lie. Now don’t get me wrong, Lady Sophia, I’m not afraid for the country. We’re beyond screwed, but no. As always, I’m one selfish prick. Always bad words. OnlyFans Lady Sophia. My Stuff and Thangs if you’re wondering where I was tonight. Well, this afternoon, for the most part. A picture is worth a thousand words or $5.00. Only where was I this morning? Besides my good deed for today, I was waiting for sirens, boots at the door. To be on the news. The one tale I don’t want to tell

Like my tears, but they always come. Today they were brought on by another book I’m reading. I’m getting into the Christmas spirit, my first one ever alone thirty-seven years. So the story is called “The Christmas Nanny” by Elizabeth Kelly. Remember I read her work last year, “The Christmas Wife.” Should I read the one with the dog? NEVER!!! Sophia, you know the stories I tell to myself at night? I was telling myself the story of Final Fantasy VIII. Only freaking YouTube reactions. I’ve been watching Squid Game. Okay, I mean the reactions now. How I wish my Gganbu would come back all rich. Knowing Braxton, food wouldn’t be an issue. A Christmas miracle. I got some time, only B There Bad Stories.

313 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 127 ~B There Some Line~

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Crossing the line varies from person to person. Defending Nazis, harming pets, or liking R. Kelly, or more to the point, the music he made. The only lines I’ve been crossing these days are international currencies and stuff B needs. B There Some Line

Friday, November 5, 2021

Chronicle 127 ~B There Some Line~

Hey Lady Sophia,
I AM a Billionaire right now, which to answer the title question is no. With that money, you’ll do any damn thing.

Save Braxton? I keep telling myself that. In a way, I was lucky my boy was the scrappiest man I knew/know. No broken bones. B III’s heart kept right on beating for fifteen years despite the few when he was on medication. The meds I bring out 278 Days afterward. Hell, I couldn’t be bothered to afford some stairs. Little Braxton learned to fly, always. Sophia, I hate making that “joke.” There’s also the fact I wouldn’t have Braxton neutered. B III was a man, and I wouldn’t take that away, no. Um, B III should have been bred, hmm. Again how did it all end Lady Sophia? Name on the line, and I’ll never cross another with his name on it, to be sure.

Because I’m a Bad Man, and no, not R. Kelly bad. To appreciate the art but not the artist… Didn’t I say years ago that I wanted to be as infamous as the Marquis de Sade? If I’m going down, you know the crime I should be punished for. Every time I hear sirens Sophia. But these days, it’s been the beeps, chimes, and dings that have been telling my story. God knows I’m still lying to NaNoWriMo. For the record, counting our conversation with Lady Sophia. This will be 3,900 words completed today. Well, why not 5,000? Hell, if I swore on Braxton’s name, I’d still be a lying piece of shit. 6,900 when I’ll tell NaNoWriMo it’s 8,500. Writing most of the day.

I keep telling myself that I should let my anger fuel me. A lot of the time, I fear the man in the mirror. Do you know why no one else should? It would require me to have more energy than to cross the line, which is the edge of the bed to the floor. Energy, FEAR. Sophia, there’s been one other thing keeping me glued to the sheets or shower walls. Reaching 5,000 words would be easier if I wasn’t looking up Pokémon Bras and lingerie. Every OnlyFans girl would kick my ass for how many “euros or quid” I’m spending. However, I crossed the line with that girl too. That was yesterday, but wow, Lady Sophia. Crossing the line feels damn good. But wrong. B There Some Line

278 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 102 ~Perfection Is Forged Through Hell~

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In a song, there’s the line “the road to Heaven, is paved through Hell.” Dante had Virgil, and I had B, and the clear path has been lost. My boy wouldn’t go to Hell unless Cerberus retired. Plus, B III was perfect. “Perfection Is Forged Through Hell”

Monday, October 11, 2021

Chronicle 102 ~Perfection Is Forged Through Hell~

Two-Hundred And Ninth Rule

Madam Justice
I AM a Billionaire right now. If the current crop of billionaires is any sign, I know where I’m going. I deserve it.

Seeing as how we’re talking on a Sunday, you know where I’ll be. It’s not going to Hell but more like going through the different circles. Of course, when I meet my demise, I will see Circle Nine for my Treachery. I’m sure you’re asking, aren’t you an atheist friend? Where’s Braxton in all this? How many groups am I a part of telling me that my son has crossed the Rainbow Bridge? He’s on it or waiting for me? Now I could burst out singing, I got Faith of the Heart. As far as God is concerned, I think I understand, Madam Justice. One more reason I’m going to Hell. Because what if anything do I conceive, hmm? For one, perfection lies in Hell.

Not my son Braxton. He would want to be where I am, so I tried to clean up my act. With what I did to him, taking his life, and yes, I’ve heard it all. It was an act of love, kindness, mercy. In my eyes, B was perfect but did he ask for mercy, freedom? B asked for Home. So this leads me back to God, and no, not like that. While I’m busy ripping off movies like Braveheart, how about The Ten Commandments. It’s like I’m Moses in the burning desert. I should look up how long Moses was in the wilderness. I have 253 Days of experience. Is “God” preparing me for a purpose? One that I could not share with Braxton.

It’s not OnlyFans for sure, but his cute face would have more fans than me. Hell, while I’ve been sitting here at the dining room table, I’ve gotten all sorts of ideas. Yeah, it ain’t writing, Burning paper, another taste of Hell. I’ll be amazed if I’m prepared… Day Job. They have said that the Squid Game is a look at Hell. Oh my took the guy ten years, ha. There’s my Envy popping up. I have had the Day Job for a decade, and what do I have, J? Even now, I could sit right in the Den and not do a damn thing. Cocoon myself in the Bed. Treachery is ice cold, you know, that is my punishment. Perfection Is Forged Through Hell

253 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 080 ~Go B, Go Home~

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All The Small Things or The Little Things, let me stop myself before I make another playlist. There’s always so little time; my son, who was 15, will always be my baby boy. Not to mention I feel like a speck or a peck, eh Willow. “Go B, Go Home”

Sunday, September 19, 2021

Chronicle 080 ~Go B, Go Home~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, but what’s in your wallet? Using a credit card slogan? It must be early. Only 5:50 AM.

Braxton was big on life. All he needed was but a sliver of light, and it was time to go walking. Breakfast is to be served uh… well you know the word you want to use. (Damn Hemingway App)! Anyway, there was a yard that needed protecting. Braxton was home. Nowadays, and yes, I know your week is only beginning. Here’s a quick note, what is it with the word “only?” You know, if you use any other word ending in the last two letters, you get dinged. Speaking of the bumps, bruises, and battery, it’s the little things, right? Hell, I was annoyed yesterday for a lot of things. The smallest ones being there were no itty-bitty dogs at PetSmart. Oh, Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading, Succubus 6 (Devil In The Deep Blue Sea)
    Completed
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Partial
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
    Failed
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 002 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 002 No Fap)
  5. I WILL Work On Getting My Tattoo Of B III
    Failed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

Why would petting another fur baby make this list? I also mentioned the word Acceptance. That word is “humongous” to you. Again must please Ol’ Massa Hemingway because a tiny synonym would get flagged. Are you editing Gulp this week? See, this is what you’re thinking about. All these bits and pieces of your life and trying to put them all together. It’s so much easier not to imagine life. That right there is a thought. You’ve been here so many years, and that’s the idea that will get you into a world of shit. This morning you had a brilliant line for a girl, but of course, she would assume the worst.

“You are my sun, my moon, my starlit sky,” ― Willow (1988)

Were you listening to me, Neo? Or were you looking at the woman in the red dress? ― The Matrix (1999)

So I guess you’re saving the best for last, eh? Try and finish a thought, okay? This chick was wearing a black dress with celestial bodies all over it. No love, no flirting: cuteness. Hell, all your love is still for B III, who was worth a million girls. To imagine such love from something and for something so little, my wee puppy. Um, what were you doing before having this talk with the mirror? Right, you were in front of your camera… Onlyfans. Nope, there is no advice for that. B is for breathing. Go B, Go Home, sigh. Do Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading, The Handmaid’s Tale
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 002 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL Work On Getting My Tattoo Of B III
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

231 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 073 ~B Kind Of Trouble~

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On September 12, 2001, people had much bigger fish to fry. Now here I am twenty years later, complaining about twenty bucks. I’m all for Onlyfans but let’s just say I’m not paying for those. I should buy more stuff for Braxton. B Kind Of Trouble

Sunday, September 12, 2021

Chronicle 073 ~B Kind Of Trouble~

To Will:
I AM a Billionaire right now, but Mo’ Money Mo’ Problems as the song goes. What I wouldn’t give for B III’s shit.

I’ve read Dennis Hof’s book, The Art of the Pimp: One Man’s Search for Love, Sex, and Money. He and some of his friends and associates talk about being “Mother Fucked.” Pardon the language. When Dennis gets Mother Fucked, he’s done with you, that’s it. Okay, so this morning, I was Mother Fucked. I’m feeling like a Republican talking about George Floyd and a twenty. Yeah, it was $20.00, but that was my money. Now I ain’t no cop. Yes, I have my own stupidity to blame… For the record, I’m over Samantha Flair, ha. I’m sorry you’re starting your week off on such a sour note. You feel stupid, your cash was “stolen,” and as far as sex goes… not on Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading, The Theta Prophecy By Chris Dietzel
    Completed
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
    Partial
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
    Failed
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 001 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
    Failed (Day 002 No Fap)
  5. I WILL Survive The Thirty-Seventh Emergence Day
    Completed
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am
    Failed

To sing a song, “why do the things I hate come so naturally?” If it’s not a pair of English Yabbos you didn’t want. Why not Cherry’s (sigh)? You’re kind to the Day Job. You’re kind enough to your bed. Fuck your comfort zone, the motivations would say. Goddammit, man, you give all your energy to a place you despise and nap away your life. That’s not saying anything about the life I took. My B. I spent an hour Saturday looking at other fur babies. Like you can afford one when Onlyfans robs you. Don’t be me, I beg. Easier said than done? The world is headed to Hell, and The Handmaid’s Tale tells all. Only you’re reading something else and Six Impossible Things:

  1. I AM Finishing Reading, Succubus 6 (Devil In The Deep Blue Sea)
  2. I AM Finishing Gathering, My Braxton’s Albums
  3. I AM Sending Gulp Off To Be Published SIGH
  4. I AM Keeping It In My Pants (Day 002 No Fap) Real Girls Are An Exception
  5. I WILL Work On Getting My Tattoo Of B III
  6. I WILL Be The Man My Son Thinks I Am

Yesterday I talked some about the saddest memories of Braxton being the best. Considering the state of the world, losing $20.00 is nothing to over $300, letting B III rest. Again you hate the Day Job with a fiery passion, but at least they’ll pay you slave wages. Today you’re going to sit here in blankets trying to stave off the cold of your Treachery. Hell, you’re even back to monk status at the moment because nothing turns you off more than stealing. Again your stupidity or mine. Anyway, you don’t deserve to feel good. Advice wise I’ve got nothing but remember who you have to pay. Paying for your sins. A tattoo, Cuddle Clone? Having worries and cares of B. B Kind Of Trouble.

224 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Chronicle 018 ~Nakedness Doesn’t Need Any Pockets~

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I was different when the rules came out. I can’t even tell you the year. Take a look at me now or don’t. The truth ain’t all it’s cracked up to be or cracked too much… It ain’t pretty, so I keep a mask in my pocket. Nakedness Doesn’t Need Any Pockets

Monday, July 19, 2021

Chronicle 018 ~Nakedness Doesn’t Need Any Pockets~

Hundred And Ninety-Seventh Rule

Madam Justice,
I AM a Billionaire right now. Well, if I was, I would need much bigger pockets and pants.

As you can guess, Madam, when this rule came into being, my mind was elsewhere entirely. Not that for 169 Days, I would still be mourning my lost boy. My Braxton, who was not one for clothes. He would have taken a few fingers, a whole hand, for trying. Though he loved his collar. And as Shakespeare put it, with both wind and wrack, he died with the harness on his back. He met the end with my arms wrapped around him, in his own bed, surrounded by pure love. Love Madam Justice, is not anything found in pockets. Dare I say my Olds taught me that. Putting up money, so I can live, exist, be ok right now. For the love of money

Indeed, I “love” money but considering “Stuff And Thangs.” Yet another try, not netting me any money. I’m not ashamed of my nakedness. Oh, we could have a massive talk about me but two things. One is the idea of Time Travel, and two is the rule itself, how to explain. Violence Madam takes plenty of things and places to hold those things. Love or, more in my case, lust doesn’t take anything. It’s how I try explaining to M Anime the primal need of the species. I’m not a Trumptard, but hate is more than one’s skin color, dear Madam. You tell white people they deserve more. Then black people deserve less. And like a child asks. Why? Because you’re another color than them.

My Ma called Braxton and me brothers when clearly he had nothing, while I was given everything. He was my boy, my best friend, my brother, this is the truth. He had nothing to hide and nowhere to hide it. If anything, he only hid, and that was his lies. Monday will be a day full of lies, as it is Sunday now. I can’t tell you how sick I am of lying, Madam. It’s one reason I stick with Stuff And Thangs because I don’t have to hide. Well, my face and how did Quasimodo put it, “No face as hideous as my face.” What about my mind, heart, and soul? Nakedness is a truth away from secrets and lies we all sometimes keep, Madam. Nakedness Doesn’t Need Any Pockets.

169 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Gospel 332 ~When B Moved On~

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B III was on the eternal quest of comfy spots. I know mine; I was comforted Braxton around. He could be waiting for me, not that he was one to rush me. I’m sure he’s getting his morning or after-work walks. What am I working on because When B Move On

Saturday, May 29, 2021

Gospel 332 ~When B Moved On~

Hey Lady Lu,
I AM a Billionaire right now, but with all the dollars and the maid, I hope she misses Braxton’s last few hairs.

That’s why I haven’t hired a new maid yet, and I stick to cleaning the bathroom. Sure Braxton’s dog gate still sits at the door. Well, nine out of ten, he hated going in there. I mean, baths, my bellowing “stuff and thangs,” and fewer soft places for Braxton’s behind. When that behind stayed still in bed for a day or so, I knew something was wrong with him. Here we are 118 Days past, and I still can’t believe it. I also didn’t mean to sound so Depressed (oh no) today. Like my Anger, this has nothing to do with Braxton. Just a sec… Braxton isn’t haunting me like the dude was his wife in “What Dreams May Come.” I wouldn’t mind if B did that, my ghost dog.

Hell, part of the reason I became a “monk” is this. Wherever B III is, he can see everything. He loves me regardless of what I do, but still, I kept things from him sometimes. Which brings in my… depression, rejection, no not really. If I’m being honest, like my writing, I’m having a good time with my “Stuff And Thangs,” better known as OnlyFans. I’ve said before I have no qualms about my body… okay, my teeth; how I love masks. I like how I move and how I feel. Only at the moment, I haven’t… crossed the finish line. It’s like I’m Rhett from Lust by Ker Dukey. He lost his brother, and I failed my son Braxton. To show my face ever.

People want me to move on, move over, move a smidge so they can have what they want. I’ve spent my life being in the way, and that’s why I’m always trying to move. Yeah, like moving books off shelves, my body in this way or that to look right, my brain, I have one?
I say my heart is broken, but it continues to beat, doesn’t it, so it’s moving. My ears don’t move, but when I hear myself moaning, my hands do. It’s been a mighty long time. Braxton’s things, though? I did pick up his toys for a picture, and as always, I fill his water, move his gates, his bed, everything. I’m stuck; I want to be. When B Moved On.

118 Days Without B III

BLM Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will