Time For Your Magic Weekend Stories!

But wait! What’s the hurry? What’s the big deal? Sit back a moment and I will explain to y’all why the weekend being here is such a big deal. Don’t freak out if y’all have submitted before and it was published, I really love you repeat offenders and I will post for you again.  As y’all can see, here at The Sting Of The Scorpion Blog, I’m pretty open minded as to what I post myself. Anyway, your information can be as private or as public as you want it to be. Upon request I also add your blog so others may find you as they grope around the internet in the dark. I also provide the donating party of the story and pictures a link to place on their blog to use as they see desirable. Want more information or want to just see what has been posted before? Just search The Sting Of The Scorpion Blog for “Magic Weekend” and enjoy.

So, that’s why I’m here today. It’s time for y’all to tell your fantastic stories about your weekend for the “world” to see. So what did your Magic Weekend involve? Sex, Jail, Blood, Money, or Fame? Got questions? Just ask me. Fair enough? Great, lets GO! Be sure to include your pictures with your story!

Submit your stories & pictures to:

thestingofthescorpion@gmail.com

The Man From Nantucket

Anyway, I decided to pass this story on to y’all while I have had time hanging out at three different doctors offices today. I think y’all will enjoy it, especially the fishermen who knows the perils of early morning fishing in a tiny boat. Enjoy.

I never know how to title posts that are sent to me with no title. This is especially hard when entries come in for The Magic Weekend. But, I figured most of us have heard of the tale about the man from Nantucket, so I figured it just might catch someone’s attention. Did it work? Neither here nor there, he sends me a story that covers two of the categories for The Magic Weekend. If you need a moment to get up to speed to see what those are, we’ll wait. Got everyone back? So, Ron is of course from Nantucket Massachusetts where he has lived most of his adult life. Ron states he is in his mid-40s, single, dating, and spends most weekends fishing and drinking. Sounds like I’m writing his single’s ad instead of his story introduction. But, I guess if someone is interested in Ron they can get ahold of me and I will pass your information on to him. Hey, wait just a fucking minute, I’m not pimping for nobody, especially a damned ‘ol yankee. Anyways, this story wasn’t sent in by Ron, it was sent in by one of his lady friends. Hey, I don’t judge. Elizabeth, the lady friend in question, sent this particular story in this past weekend to share her version of their Magic Weekend. She made sure to send me in three decent pictures, two of Ron and one of herself. So, we shall begin with her e-mail now.

El Scorpion~

Hi! My name is Elizabeth, 23, from the great state of Massachusetts. I’m sorry your not a big fan of us yanks but we’re just people too. I hope this email finds you well and that you will be able to see that even us yankees know how to have a Magic Weekend. I have been a long time stalker of your blog, I can relate to a couple of the stories you posted, but hell, that’s just part of dating I think, shit happens, we laugh, we learn, and we become better people down the road hopefully. Anyhow, I met Ron through a friend of a friend of a friend who thought we needed to hook up. The first time we met was a shock to both of us, the short version was we did allot of shots of tequila, allot, and I ended up bent over the couch with my bikini bottom pulled to one side as he drilled me so hard I though he would surely pound my tonsils out. It was great, I was hooked, and I wanted more, and more, and then more to cap it off. Does this make me greedy? I cant help it he knows how to screw one way, and one way only, to just drill and pound until everything is just a sloppy mess. Ah, memories. I have good pictures of some of these occasions as well, let me know if I should send them to you later. Just kidding, I know you can’t post those on your “Rated G” blog.

So, Ron called me to see if I had any plans a few weeks ago because he wanted me to go fishing with him on some pond called Hummock or something like that. I’m not much into fishing but what the hell, I like to eat fish, drink, and party so I was game. I showed up at his house about 4:30 in the morning dressed for the nice day ahead. He met me on the porch, gave me the once over head to toe, got a dirty grin on his face, and then handed me cooler to carry to his truck. After we got all loaded up we headed out, it was a rather short trip, 15 minutes or so. The area we pulled up to was very pretty, looks like a post card you could find at the drug store or somewhere. I helped put his little boat in the water, we loaded everything into it, and we pushed off. It appears that we truly are in the middle of absolutely nowhere so I spent quite a bit of time fucking with Ron, trying to throw off his fishing game, but, for some reason fishing is what he actually had on his mind. I didn’t want to fish, I wanted to fuck, and I was going to get my way one way or another. As I laid back against the front of the boat, my fingers dangling in the calm water, I watched to sun begin to come up, I could feel its warmth as it moved up my legs, onto my stomach, across my breasts and face, and now I catch Ron checking me out from the corner of his eye. Game on now Ron, game on. Before I knew it I was sliding down my shorts to get comfortable, now I am laid out in nothing but my bikini. The warmth across my body, a perfect time to start lapping on the suntan lotion. Ah, I wanted to be so naughty, I wanted Ron to be done fishing, and I was going to have my way, you just keep on playing with your minnows Ron, I’ll see if I can’t change your mind.

My bikini top and bottoms just slid right off and it took Ron all of about 33 seconds to realize he was done fishing this morning. And then he turned to me, trying to get out of his shorts, the all I see is Ron with his giant boner coming right at me, now all fuck breaks loose. Ron had slipped, then tripped, and was going down like a falling mighty oak, it seemed as if it were all going in slow motion, then I hear the crash, Ron had landed onto the corner of his open tackle box which shattered into oblivion, slicing his hand open. In all the commotion we ended up flipping the boat over in about 18 feet of water. Everything on the little boat was gone, everything. We ended swimming to the open area by his truck, where I finally was able to take his shirt off of him and bind it around his hand. As luck would have it, and we needed luck, I found the keys to his truck deep in his pocket, finding out that Ron was still peacocking his mighty wood. We headed to his house for clothes for me and a quick change for him. Luckily he wasn’t much of a bleeder or we would have been in grave shit. There was a small clinic not far from his house which is where we ended up. They sewed Ron up real clean as we laughed and joked that we could tell our grand children of this event one day. Afterwards I took Ron home, made him a hot tea and called it a day. Don’t worry, Ron healed up just fine, and a few weeks later we had a couple more dates, we had much unfinished business to attend to. He still calls from time to time, seems this is what our relationship has turned into, just two people too busy to have a dating life. Maybe one day that can change, we’ll see.

Yours truly, your the best, Elizabeth

A New Meaning To Slippery When Wet

So, I’ve mentioned before, my Magic Weekend inbox is overflowing with great stories, some extremely long, and some which are short and sweet. This next one I’m posting is on the short side. Annabel has been a very regular contributor to The Sting Of The Scorpion Blog, so when I see she has sent me something new I usually go ahead and check hers out first. Although, this time she was full of surprises, this time she sent in a personal story for the Magic Weekend, and I knew I had to post it right away. Y’all will see, as per a promise I made last month, that I’m going to try to post the pictures sent to me without to much damn censoring, but as you call tell, female anatomy is rather challenging to work with to edit it where one still has an idea of what the pictures are trying to illustrate. I think most of y’all can do the math to see what two plus two equals. If not, there’s absolutely no fucking help for you. So, without further delay, please enjoy her story, I know I did.

Dear Scorion Sting-

As we both know, I’m a regular sender of information, pictures, and ideas, because I try to carry out my role in The Scorpion Army. I have seen many of my ideas posted in your blog so I thought you might enjoy something not so generic and a little bit more personal. So, I will make this simple because I made a premeditated choice this past Saturday night. It was my 21st birthday and I wanted to get myself something rememberable. I had wanted, since I have been 16, to get my clit pierced, a VCH, a vertical clitorius hood piercing, but never have. For my birthday this year it was going to be my gift to me because nobody else was going to get my kitty fancy jewelry but me. I was ready, I really was, I took extra time shaving, making sure I was so smooth that water beaded up on the skin. Mission accomplished. I put on loose, baggy warm up pants because I was told that one’s clit gets pretty swollen and sore afterwards. In the end I was as ready as I thought I could ever be, and to say I was excited is an understatement, because I’m fucking extatic.

I get to the tattoo shop, you can omit the name if you like, but its a place you have mentioned before, I just know you don’t like giving free advertising. Anyway, sitting in front of Magic Needle I found myself growing really impatient, it was time to go, my wait is finally over. Once inside I was asked if I had an artist preference and if I wanted a male or female artist. It doesn’t matter, just as long as their aim is true and straight. After filling out all of the legal release paperwork I was led back to a room, instructed to lay on the table, and to remove my sweats. There I laid, for what seemed like an eternity, on the table with my pants in the chair, getting a slight chill, but flushing with heat because I didn’t know what was about to happen. As the seconds turned to minutes, Ron enters to explain the process, gets his tools ready, and here we go. I only felt his warm fingers, a cold clamp, and a sharp snap of pain. Then it was over, no foreplay, no teasing, just stuck it through. I will remember that feeling for the rest of my life as there has been nothing to ever compare it to so far in my 21 years. Want to talk about making me instantly wet, that did the fucking trick 100 fold!

Then, Ron turned to me and mentioned that they had a special going on, get one piercing and get your next one half off if done in the next seven calendar days. So I told him if he has time I got a nipple he could pierce right now. He smiled, got prepped, I showed him where, and like lightning my nipple was also pierced. You can only imagine the sensations that were going through my entire fucking body, in fact I don’t even think I am capable of explaining it right. But my sensitivity was increased like a billion times over. When I was done I was led up front to pay, this is also where they gave me my care for new piercings literature. Mentioned one shouldn’t touch the areas unless cleaning for 5-7 days, fuck that, I couldn’t stop touching either one the entire ride home. Now I just needed to get fucked hard to seal the night for me. But, no luck, I went home alone. Lucky for me I had a very lonely cucumber which had no prior obligations to handle my immediate needs, so it all worked out for the best if you ask me.

I know you have this stupid rule about using pictures with full nudity but there is no other way to show you what I had done but to just send pictures of myself, plus I know you can make them usable. Now, realize this morning, as I write this email, I’m a little sore, but I know Monday morning I’m off to work, with no one the wiser of my weekend. Glad I wear skirts, going commando for a few days should be interesting, hope nobody at the office gets an eyeful. I think I hit the blood part of your criteria, don’t know if letting a cucumber have its way with me counts as sex, but it did the fucking job for me!

Annabel H., Houston Tx

I told y’all it was short and sweet, and as much as I wish I could share with y’all her beautiful VCH and horizontal nipple piercing, all the censoring, as you can plainly see, blocks what was so nicely done. I had to salvage at least two of the eleven great pictures she sent in so just deal with it. Yes, I know, all is blocked from view, just imagine a horizontal stainless steel stud pierced through her nipple and a vertical stud through her clitoral hood. Well folks, that’s it for this one. Keep sending in your Magic Weekend stories, keep sending in your pictures, and just keep doing all the crazy shit that y’all do every single weekend.

Your Magic Weekend Is Almost Here

 

But wait! What’s the hurry? What’s the big deal? Sit back a moment and I will explain to y’all why the weekend being here is such a big deal. Don’t freak out if y’all have submitted before and it was published, I really love you repeat offenders and I will post for you again.  As y’all can see, here at The Sting Of The Scorpion Blog, I’m pretty open minded as to what I post myself. Anyway, your information can be as private or as public as you want it to be. Upon request I also add your blog so others may find you as they grope around in the dark. I also provide the donating party of the story and pictures a link to place on their blog to use as they see desirable.

So, what’s the deal with The Magic Weekend? I started it a while back because I would come to work Monday morning and here some outlandish stories of Sex, Jail, Blood, Money, or Fame, and I would always tell people it was utter bullshit if they don’t have some pictures, receipts, or a few scars to show for it all. Then it hit me, I’m going to start telling these stories on my blog, and when I did it took off like a bat out of hell with readers submitting left and right. But, just like in real life, so many great stories come without any picture proof which usually means a decline on my side. Y’all don’t worry, I have the censorship tools to make all (most) of your pictures suitable for the general audience types.

So, that’s why I’m here today. It’s time for y’all to tell your fantastic stories about your weekend for the “world” to see. So what did your Magic Weekend involve? Sex, Jail, Blood, Money, or Fame? Got questions? Just ask me. Fair enough? Great, lets GO!

Submit your stories & pictures to:

thestingofthescorpion@gmail.com

 

The Magic Weekend Still Lives On!

One of the themes I have here is The Magic Weekend and it is stories about y’all emailed to me by y’all for all of the readers here to read and enjoy. For information on how to participate, see the link for it at the top of the blog. Since I have been sort of busy I have held off posting this one but now I seem to have a bit of spare time. So here we go, off to never never land……….

The Breakup

It was a dark and stormy night when I found out that my fiance was a two bit cheating whore. Up until this night we had been dating for just at a year and engaged for the past three months, we were going to be married at the end of this coming November. So let me go back about a year and a half ago to how we met. Shortly after graduating from UT, a friend of mine set me up with an interview with an architectural contracting firm in Houston. On the day of my interview I was first introduced to Rey, who was the secretarial associate who was in the room when you walk in. In there all by herself, sitting behind an open desk, wearing a very short skirt, and decided this day to go commando. I know this only because of where I was sitting waiting for my appointment, since she would cleverly cross and uncross her legs every few minutes, it was very distracting. She knew I was looking but would never make any eye contact with me. In the end, I had my interview and was told I would be contacted with a decision by the end of the week, this was on a Monday morning.

Late the following Friday afternoon, I get a call from Rey, it’s bad news, I was not selected for the position. However, it was pointed out that it was good news as well, because she tells me now I can ask her out for drinks and it not be in violation of the company no fraternization policy. We decided to meet up at The Aquarium, a very nice restaurant, to have dinner and drinks. We waited at the bar until our table was ready until she began to excuse herself to use the ladies room. She returned almost immediately claiming she had something very interesting I was going to want to see. As we approach the rest rooms she grabs my hand and makes a straight shot for the family rest room where we both go in. She locks the door, unzips my pants, grabbing my member as she bends over spreading herself open. I’m a commanding voice she tells me, not ask, tells me to just fuck her hard and then we can enjoy the rest of the evening. I was past the point of saying no, so I did as I was commanded to do, I fucked her hard.

When we got back to the bar we were informed are table was ready and we were immediately seated. Once we left the rest room not a word was spoken about what had just happened. We ate, had a few drinks, talked about life, and, in general, just had a great date together. After the date, I dropped her off at her place when she told me the dreaded phrase, “I’ll call you soon”. I know what that means, I’ve been around enough to know this was going to be the first and last date. It was sad really, but then, it had been a while since I had been laid, so it was a positive date for me also. The following morning she called me asking for my address, she wanted to bring me doughnuts after she was done at the gym. OK, sure, why not. This phone call was at 5:10 am, she showed up just after 9 am, packing a dozen doughnuts to boot. We sat around, talked, ate the doughnuts, and after that she said it was time for her to go. After she left I called a friend of mine so he could help me figure things out here, according to him, at this point we are dating.

Life went on, with the good came a little bad, but mostly it was a great relationship. Now, here in the present time I wished I saw all of the signs which would have stopped me from making a mistake, sure, I can see them now, but only now, which is torturous beyond belief. What started the breakup argument? See the picture? It is a picture of Rey. See the guy sitting there? It’s not me. How did I get ahold of the picture? We were at dinner at my parents house, she was in the bathroom with my little sister doing hair. Her phone rings and she tells me to answer it. It was her sister confirming their shopping plans the next day. I noticed she had a text message waiting so she said to see what it is, so I did, and the message with that picture just said “thanks for stopping by last night, it was fun”. In a matter of seconds, after looking through her phone a bit, this picture was one of maybe one hundred I saw and I was getting pissed. Pictures of her, pictures of her with guys, pictures of her with girls, pictures of her male friends naked, and so on. Now, now I’m beyond pissed. She walked out just as I set her phone on the kitchen counter with that message on display. Then all hell literally broke loose. She wasn’t apologizing, she was making a thousand excuses, all which were bullshit.

It was definitely over that night, we were officially done, relationship terminated, and the wedding called way off. Yes, I was that blind I guess, but I look back and see times where everything she was doing fit right in. We haven’t spoken since, she sees my mom at the grocery store every once in a while but my mom won’t give her the time of day. Never once has she tried to talk to me, tried to make it right, explain, or nothing. I guess we can say I know I have moved on, I don’t know about Rey.

What Happens To The Emails?

Some of my loyal emailers have recently asked what do I do with all of my emails that aren’t spam. Well, allot actually, let me explain. First I get rid of any more spam that snuck through, to include emails using a disposable email address trying to be clever. Secondly, I review the remaining subject lines looking for specifics such as submissions for The Magic Weekend, picture submissions, and other things I would immediately recognize, that is generally 100+ alone. Then, I review the notifications from wordpress, google+, facebook, and twitter. The remaining 50 or so emails are usually complaints or someone bitching me out for some reason or another, these are generally where I get my morning laugh from. Once I have sorted them all then I begin reading everything that has made the cuts. I reply to the one that require replies and either archive or delete the others. And then, sometimes, like today, I share an email which I felt was worth sharing.

We all know I have a few blog-stalkers and haters, but I truly have actual fans as well. There are times a post I have done prompts someone to go the extra step and email me about there thoughts. I generally only get emails I’m English or broken English so life is simple for me, but today I had one in Portuguese which I knew about every tenth word, so I had google translate it for me. The most of the email was questioning why I have never wrote her back, ever, about 15 emails in the last year, and was I mad at her for a particular reason. Apparently I have been deleting her emails assuming they were spam, as 95% of them ate in a foreign language to begin with. She went on to explain that she has repeatedly sent in her Magic Weekend story, including pictures, from her holiday in Florida. Baffled, I replied and asked her to put The Magic Weekend in the subject line and for sure I would get it the next time. About an hour later it arrived, the entire email in English, and an additional short note apologizing for the oversight and any misunderstanding. So, since she waited so long, hers will be the next in line for me to do today. Be looking for it.

In the end all I can do is ask people to use the subject line and it really helps when its in English. No telling how many emails I have dismissed as spam because of this happening. From now on I will look closer before deleting it as spam.

The Magic Weekend Is Finally Here

What Will Happen This 3 Day Weekend?

Will You Have A Weekend Adventure?

Attention! Attention! Attention!

The Weekend Is Coming!

Y’all will be seeing the routine of me promoting one of my favorite features here @ The Sting Of The Scorpion, we like to call it “The Magic Weekend”. If you are asking what The Magic Weekend is all about then just keep reading. Silently every Monday morning since I can remember I have played a game in my head while listening to all the stories the people are talking about around me. Typically all the stories fall into one or more of the following five categories of “Sex, Jail, Money, Blood, or Fame”. On a good Monday morning a story hits all five categories. I personally think it’s all bullshit unless you have pictures to back it up. A picture is worth a thousand words……..right? Which leads me to ask what kind of weekend everyone had? Sex, Jail, Money, Blood, or Fame? I will be updating The Sting Of The Scorpion as often as I can. Feel left-out? Want to share your stories about your weekend? E-Mail Me with your tantalizing stories and I will feature it all here. Be sure to include all your pictures because without pictures it’s probably all just bullshit.

The Sting Of The Scorpion

“Because Everything Else Just Bites!”

thestingofthescorpion@gmail.com

Posted From Scorpion Sting’s Motorola Droid Maxx!

A Not So Routine Trip To The E.R.

Often times it is hard to decide what stories make it into The Magic Weekend files. Typically I will not post the story unless it has pictures provided by the sender which can be used in association with the story. I do, however, make exceptions, as in this case, it will be the second exception I have ever made. Why? Its simple really, she sent in 18 pictures with her e-mail, zero which are usable here do to what might be considered to graphic. You may or may not understand, but in her story she does take pictures and she will go on to explain why to y’all. Hers is truly a “Blood” story since it did result in 4 stitches being given in the local emergency room. She did explain that had this not happened to her then her weekend really wouldn’t have been to special. I give you Liz’s story now, she is 23, married, no children mentioned, and lives in Las Vegas Nevada. Warning: there are graphic descriptions of the female anatomy as well as graphic language in the following post.

“This weekend started out as many do for us, get off work late Friday afternoon ready to get home so we can go out on the town. My husband (Justin) and I had decided we wanted to try out a new dance club here in Las Vegas that a few of our friends had been to and said the partying was great. I got home first so I took a quick shower to was my day. As I sat in my towel afterwards, starting my hair, my husband comes in to let me know he had spoke with everyone earlier and we are still on for going out this evening. Pretty soon it was time to get dressed, so I called the girls to find out what they were wearing, we all tend to dress the same as each other already but its nice to check. Last week I had bought a new pair of blue jeans. The store didn’t have my size so I had to go one smaller, no big deal, the tighter the better, and I don’t ever get any complaints from Justin for them being too damn tight. I’m lucky in that regard, my husband is still I’m love with my ass. A common practice I have is going commando in jeans because it leaves absolutely no noticeable lines plus I don’t have to worry about getting all bunched up in the wrong tight places.

Laying on the bed completely naked I grabbed my jeans to wrestle them on. My husband gets a kick out of the show as he finished up shaving. It takes me a few minutes before I get the jeans convinced to be on me. Last step was just zipping them up to seal the deal. All of of a sudden my eyes flashed over white because of the hellish pain I was now in. It hurt so bad I couldn’t even scream. When I sat up carefully to get a better view of what happened I couldn’t bear the pain. I laid back down and called Justin to get in the bedroom. When he came in I explained what I was doing and he tried to hold back the giggles, but failed miserably. I needed him to explain what he could see to me so it could get fixed pronto. ‘Well……shit ……babe…….all I can see it what looks like bloody skin’. He then went in to explain that I zipped over a good bit of skin. When he tried to pull the zipper back down it wouldn’t budge a bit and it hurt so fucking bad I could only scream. But nothing either if us tried did any good, that zipper was very stuck with my flesh still in it. He took some pictures “just for the record” as we made plans to get me off the bed, into his truck, and down to the emergency room. And let me tell you, it was a flesh tearing effort just getting to the e.r. for sure.

We parked in front of the entrance and Justin went in to explain the situation and get someone to help get me inside. A triage technician (Ron) came out to take a look and gage the severity of my injury. Very lucky for me is the fact that I am the only person here right now so I can get seen immediately. I couldn’t begin to imagine having to wait any length of time in the waiting room. In the room now, laid back on an exam table, I feel a cool liquid beginning to run down to the back of my legs. Ron tells me it is an antiseptic to clean the area so the doctor can get in there and get to work. Enter the doctor, his name is Jack, he looks about 13 but assures me he is in his late 30s and I have nothing more to worry about since he will take care of my complaints. Yes, I do have a complaint, the is a zipper holding the fleshy parts of my vagina hostage! The first thing they do is cut away my jeans leaving only a patch surrounding the zipper. Then doctor Jack makes an announcement, the zipper has entrapped aproxamately 1 1/2″ of my right labia majora. That’s right, I zipped a chunk of my labia right up. After six separate shots into the labia and surrounding areas to deaden everything I was feeling no pain. I watched as it took four people to forcibly unzip the zipper to finally get it separated from my now very swollen, very bruised, and somewhat bloody labia.

After a deep cleaning I was taken to have an xray to confirm that no metal remained unseen under the skin anywhere. After the no metal check cleared the doctor gave me 4 stitches to permanently close the four puncture like wounds. I am guessing this will be a fine place to have stitches for the next three weeks. Now that it is time to leave we realized I didn’t have any pants but the nurse was kind enough to give me a pair of disposable scrub pants. I just wanted to go home at that point, lay on the couch a while, put an icepack on my labia, and hope like hell the swelling would go down so it would stop throbbing so badly. Now I can look back and laugh about this entire ordeal. My stitches ate out now yet I am still really tender, I haven’t wore anything but sweat pants and skirts since that night and I think my husband is getting a little concerned. I’m not sure how a person rehabilitates her labia, but so far it has been time. So, that’s that, this is how a pair of jeans can not only change one’s weekend plans but also for a long time after. Too bad there’s not a warning label on or near zippers. I wonder if this has ever happened to any other women. I can’t be the only one, can I? I’m not worried, I know that all will be well in due time. Thanks for taking the time to read my story and I hope the pictures helped explain the predicament.”