The Lady in Red






The Cock Ban

Did you hear about the girl that choked on a cock and died?

Yeah. Awful stuff. We can’t let a tragedy like that one happen again.

We need to ban cocks.

It’s the only way.

“Homicide is tied to a willingness to resort to violence, not the mere presence of firearms cocks.” -Halbrook


roofiesI have never roofied someone to take sexual advantage of them. But I have thought about doing it after having sex with them so they shut up and go to sleep.

I am not a fan of cuddling. It is hard to find someone that has the right amount of fat padding to be comfy, and smell good enough to want to bask in it all night. I have very lucid dreams and they are directly correlated with my surroundings. Letting a guy spoon me through the night means he will probably show up in my dreams. He will interrupt what I am doing, ask me to make him a sammich, complain my vagina is not where it is supposed to be, or  I will remember I left him somewhere and I have to go get him back before the cunts get to him (lots of cunts in my dreams). I am not ready for that kind of commitment.

Living in Las Vegas I know roofies are a common fear among women. I often hear men pitch in and say shit like “I don’t get it, why would you want to fuck a limp body?”. Oh, eat a dick. You know why. It’s a power/control thing. When you bang a drugged girl, she is mildly responsive, you can leave her in a corner and she will find her way home in the morning (or afternoon), and you live with the thrill of using a girl like a cum receptacle. Her sole purpose is to take dick. Your dick. She will do a terrific job because she wont complain it hurts, or it is too small, nor she will question those red bumps on your shaft, or ask you to invite your friend who has a much larger dick and you suspect fucked your ex although they both deny it.

For the record, It’s not the same as fucking a dead body, because a dead girl is cold, you have to shove lotion in her vagina (or whatever body cavity you wish to fuck), which can end up resembling a pocket pussy (although I’ve heard dead bodies seem to “push back”- whatever that means), and in the back of your mind you are bombarded with concerns about where and how dump the body. That can be boner-killer if you haven’t done it before or you are in uncharted geographical areas. Look, I am not advocating this shit, just making an educated distinction for the sake of argument.

I think someone died in my car.


The night started with Shayna and me going to her favorite bar, Cowboys. Shayna goes bananas over white, tattooed, lower-enlisted, country-loving, military guys. I like white boys so I have no problem being her wing girl. I am married, but I am doing no harm. Everything Shayna does and buys is about those guys. She drives a monster truck- a Ford F-350 King Cab in the brightest shade of yellow I have ever seen. This lady takes peacocking to new horizons.

At the bar we meet these two guys, once cute, one is not. The cute one, Ryan is talking to me. The other one, Kyle reluctantly talks to Shayna. Kyle is a good wingman. After the bar closes we decide to continue the party in the mountains, so we gear up by buying a bunch of booze and go in a little road trip, the plan is to do some 8’s in her truck, and watch the sunrise. And that is exactly what we do.

When it is time to go, her truck wont start. Some fucking idiot left the radio on with the engine shut off. The battery is dead. We are in the middle of fucking nowhere, at 5:30 am. We would have to walk at least 4 hours to get to civilization and of course no cellphone has reception. An hour of pondering our marathonic ordeal we are thrilled to hear a car coming. This random lady shows up. When I see her face I can tell she had been crying all night. I would never know why she came to that spot we were in, but I am confident she was up to no good. I would be shocked if there was not a dead body in the trunk of her car with 20+ frantic stab wounds.

The lady takes Kyle to get jump cables to start the truck. It takes them no less than two hours to buy the damned things. I genuinely thought they were not coming back.

We get back to Shayna’s home around noon, fucking exhausted. Shayna is not ready to let the guys go, so she proposes we go camping for the rest of the weekend. Shayna is being sketchy, she wants to stay with Ryan. When we get to my place Shayna tells me she will head to the camping site with Ryan to reserve it and for Kyle to stay with me since he knows where this place is- neither me or Ryan know where we are going.

By the time I sober up and realized what an awful idea this is, I am already at home with this Kyle dude and Shayna has left with Ryan. How or why this plan came to be, or if it was ever discussed with me, is still a mystery to me.

While I pack my stuff Kyle makes me breakfast. He is a nice guy, I think. He helps me with my bags and off we go with me behind the wheel. But Kyle has allergies (I think), his nose is very stuffy. Midway through our trip to the campsite Kyle starts bleeding from his nose, goes limp, and passes out. His head hits the glass window. I call his name. No response. I yell his name. No response. I shake him. No response. I shake him super hard. His body falls forward and his face hits the car console. Blood is pouring from his face, I imagine from his nose but I can’t really tell. I think he is dead. I have no idea where I am. I think I should just open the door and kick him out. I do not want to drive an hour back home with a dead guy sitting next to me. But I feel a little guilty, so I don’t. I fucking drive an hour with what I think is a dead guy next to me.

I get back to Shayna’s place and I look for her room mate, Aubrey. I park in the alley behind their house and leave the windows up. Its the middle of Summer. I know I need to dispose of the body soon or it will stink like death in my car. I ask Aubrey to help me move the body. Aubrey tells me she will in the evening when it’s dark. I go to Shayna’s bed and pass out from exhaustion. Aubrey wakes me up a few hours later to solve the dead guy situation. We go to the car and find him gone.

I do not know how he found his way home, or if he did. All I know is that I never saw a missing person’s flyer with his face on it. That’s good enough for me.