How come every time I have been into work at the club I get told you aren’t working on that night? Its beginning to become very annoying because I would like to try and get my free drinks from the bartender. Do you remember me? We never talked much but you were always a fucking riot with the games you would play, it was fun and most of us really miss you. I noticed your sign was up again at your bar that states there are free drinks for whoever impresses the bartender with the best flash, trick, or treat. Have you been dishing out as much free booze for tits and ass as you used to? Since I never see you to give you a good show I hope you will accept these pictures as my attempt to get some free drinks. I was going to submit them to your site but noticed you no longer have a section for it. Why not? What happened? Anyway, enjoy the pictures and use which ones you see fit. I will see you around the club I hope, be sure to remember me.
I replied separately to Cheyanne earlier but I just wanted to share that sometimes I get good Gan mail. I also wanted to do a shotgun blast sort of explanation in case others were wondering some of the same things. To begin with, yes, I removed the “Show Me” section from this blog. I don’t care to get into why at this point but let’s just say I got a few bitches and complaints which heeded the removal a needed process. However, the versions of pictures I had in the section beforehand were NOT censored in any way, what was sent is what went up. I am gibing the idea more thought now and the section just might show up again. Be it this time pictures will be censored or obscured when deemed fit.
This actually goes for all future posts here. Since I ask for your pictures to accompany you e-mail story submissions I think it is only fair to use what was sent. So, from this point forward, to include e-mails I have waiting right now, I will be using original pictures. If you have no idea what I am talking about just read up on The Magic Weekend and Scorpion Sting’s Bartender Stories. We’ll see what kind of response I get to the idea of adding back the Show Me section and I will go from there. So far, to date, everyone who has sent in pictures has done a fantastic job. I look forward to more from the shy people in the near future. Y’all now you want to show off and I know it too.
In the event y’all cannot find the information you seek somewhere on this blog please feel free to contact me at anytime and I will promptly get back to you. Again, as always, thanks for making the choice to visit The Sting Of The Scorpion.
At age 24 Ariel has seen quite a bit. She has seen the great things in life as well as the outright bullshit that life has to offer on occasion. She finds herself lucky now because she has retired, never needing to work again unless she does it out of boredom. If you are asking yourself how she can be retired at the age of 24 that’s good, you caught it, but you will have to wait a while for the answers to your questions. I remember my many talks with Ariel as I read the notes I wrote in my little black notebook, I remember it like it was yesterday, her story impacted the way I think about certain things, because eventhough I was right, I was wrong as well. As much as I hate being wrong I’m well aware that it happens, doesn’t mean I have to enjoy it though. I wonder how many young women go through the phases of being able to use their bodies as a tool of sorts, a tool which allows them to fix things and open doors that may never have been opened without the use of their body. Ariel admits that she isn’t proud of everything she has done in her past but doesn’t regret it either because it has all gotten her where she is today, out of the rat-race, out of the concerns of getting a paycheck, and out of ever having to be someone’s perfect stranger.
It all started on Ariel’s first real date with a boy. She was 15 and he was close to 19. He promised her the world on a platter if she would have sex with him. She had never had sex before so she didn’t know what to expect. She didn’t even know if she wanted to have sex, she had heard stories of a girl’s first time before and it never sounded exactly pleasant. After some thought of what this boy had to offer, his offer of the world on a platter made her think that he would treat her as if she was a princess. Which, as always, when they hung out together he was very kind to her and treated her very well, so many of her concerns where left by the wayside. So, she agreed, she let him know and he said he would get everything set up. Later in the day he informed her that he had got a really cool hotel room for them. She spent many hours getting ready, she wanted to look just right, she wanted her first time to be different, she wanted her first time to actually mean something and be special for both of them. He stopped by her house and picked her up. He wanted to go party a bit first since he had promised some friends that he would drop by. They spent about a half hour there where she was ditched to hang out with the rest of the “girlfriends”, none of whom she even knew. Before long they finally left and drove to the hotel. It was the nicest hotel in town, it had better be because his family owns it. She tried not to think how many girls he has brought back to the hotel, she just imagined this would be the first time for both of them, she smiled at him as they walked straight to the room, and finally they had arrived.
As soon as they entered the room she noticed it was dark except for a single red light. He told her to get up on the bed and strip for him, strip for him like he was paying her to strip, it was time to earn the ride of a lifetime as he put it. She stepped onto the bed and slowly began to strip to a song she was listening to in her head. He clapped, whistled, and began throwing money onto the bed at her feet. When she was finally naked she just moved slowly, waiting for the next instructions, but then everything went crazy. A rag was jammed into her mouth that tasted like gasoline, a bag was slipped over her head while her hands were pulled behind her back, she felt the zip-ties dig into her wrists as well as around her neck. She knew she was dead, she knew she was about to be raped, she knew it was going to hurt, she knew she couldn’t scream, and she knew that there was nobody to help her. From behind she was pushed down flat on her stomach to the bed then she felt hands grab her ankles and flip her over. This is when she realized that there was more than one person in the room but how many was unknown, she didn’t want to know to be honest. One person had ahold of her right leg at the ankle and the knee, and another person on the other side doing the same, they had pulled her legs straight out as if she was doing the splits mid-air. Her legs were shaking from the muscle stress and the cramps began to set in. She just wanted it to be over, she tried to scream but could only gag.
Out of the blue she felt a shocking jab into her vagina, then it began to go deeper, then deeper, tearing the skin each time it thrust inside her. She couldn’t figure out what was happening, the object was cold and very hard. Then she got another surprise, she felt something large being rammed into her ass as well, in her head she was screaming but couldn’t hear anything, in fact she hasn’t heard anything from anyone in the room, she just felt them shoving objects inside her deeper than she thought possible. After what seemed to be many hours it stopped as fast as it started. She remembers a tremendous pain in her vagina, one of them kicked her so hard in the vagina that she blacked out cold. She woke up completely dressed sitting in a what appeared to be a little diner, a strange place she wasn’t familiar with, it smelled like old grease and burnt food. She flagged down a waitress who explained that she was given $100 to keep an eye on her and help her when she woke up because she had taken some drugs and couldn’t handle it. She remembers thinking if she had taken drugs or was she just drugged. The waitress informed her what day it was and what time it was, she had lost 4 days and 17 hours since the moment she entered that hotel room. She was very nauseous and in a considerable amount of pain, she remembers smelling like dog piss. She got up and went into the rest room where she saw her face for the first time, her make up was a wreck, her hair was everywhere, and she had a bruise going all around her neck.
She borrowed money for the pay phone to call her mom. She wouldn’t pick up probably because she didn’t know the number, she didn’t bother leaving a voicemail simply because her mom never learned how to listen to them. So here she was, the waitress explained she was in La Marque Texas which is a fucking long way from Springbrook Wisconsin. The waitress told her it was about 1500 miles between the two places. She just wanted to know why she was here and why so many days passed by. She needed to know what the hell happened. She was pretty sure she needed to go to the hospital and the police department. The waitress gave her a ride to the hospital where Ariel was interagated as is she had committed some kind of crime. The hospital staff contacted the local police department who paid her a visit in the hospital. She was arrested for prostitution after a short interview. After drug tests were ran she was found to be positive for heroin and considered still under the influence. She was placed into a holding cell with other adults, a judgement call she thinks the officers made because she looks older than she is and had no identification at all to prove who she was. Of course, never being to jail before her fingerprints weren’t in the system, so they held her to see the judge in 2 days. The judge considered everything Ariel had to say to be absolute bullshit. The judge, however, did get ahold of Ariel’s mother who sent all the proper documentation for review. Ariel was sentenced to 26 months in juvenile detention. She was released after 20 months since the entire time she was a model student and inmate.
On the day of her release she called her mom to figure out what to do from here. Her mom, who was told stories of Ariel’s behavior with the boys and how she ran away to Texas to get away from her bitch of a mom. None of it was true, but all of it was believed. At that point she just gave up, everything she was looking forward to was just ripped away from her because her mom basically told her to go to hell, don’t come back because this isn’t your home any more, she was told that her life no longer existed in that family. After getting a space to sleep at the women’s center in Houston and a hot meal, she said she spent allot of time thinking about where she was going to go, where was she going to live, how was she going to live. The first night in the women’s shelter she locked herself in a stall in the rest room staring at a rusty razor blade she found in the janitor’s closet. After some time considering her options she just dropped the razor, got her jacket and shoes, and walked out of the shelter, never looking back. She never wanted to go back, that was not who she was, eventhough she no longer knew who she was.
After a few weeks living on the street, sleeping and eating here and there, getting by with what she had, she found herself at a new all time low. She seduced a man coming out of a bar who had been drinking, she convinced him to give her a ride and some money for the blow job of a lifetime. Blowjob of a lifetime, how about this was going to be the first blowjob she has ever given, it would be the first time she would ever have a man’s dick in her mouth. When it came time for the deed she unzipped his pants and this monster stared back at her. She made the decision right then and right there that shit was not about to happen. So, she began kissing it while she slid her hand into her pocket where she quietly removed a box-cutter. In a flash of adrenalin she had the knife to his package while she instructed him to give her all of his cash. Playfully she told him to go ahead and report this to the police and be sure to not leave out she was a minor. She got out of the car and disappeared into the woods at the edge of the park. When she figured nobody was coming and she was safe she wanted to see how much money she just robbed the guy for, not bad she thought, $3800. He must have had either big hooker plans or big strip club plans. Well, not now, now he is on his way home, to his wife most likely. After the adrenalin because to level off she decided she was going to use the money to clean up, get some clothes, get a job, and get a place to live. The following day she was shopping, with the intentions of making a purchase, for some clothes. The women in the store were less than helpful so she fell on to old habits and helped herself to a few picks of her own. She had done it a hundred times, why would this be different. She did get her hair done, she did buy some make up, and she did buy some new shoes. She says it felt good to pay cash for things, even if it was some jack-ass’s cash.
She bounced around jobs here and there, working in bars mostly because she found the sluttier she dressed the bigger the tips were. Eventually she found herself applying to waitress at Club X where she ended up getting full time employment, healthcare benefits, and so forth. She was very happy she just turned 18 because that would have been a deal breaker. She made a decent amount of money between her hourly pay and tips the first year, she recalls it was just shy of $50K. She says she remembered the strippers raking in 5-7 times that amount of money and really wanted a piece of that action. She arranged everything with the recruiter and the owner and she began stripping part time and waitressing part time. Eventually she became a full time stripper making serious cash. for the next 4 years she kept her life simple, driving a beater car, living in a one room apartment with no extras, and cooking at home as much as possible. Shortly before she turned 24 she remembers looking at her bank statement, something she usually avoided and didn’t pay attention to. She just made the cash deposits twice a week and went on about her day. But, on that day, she saw something that made her think pretty hard about what she was doing for a living and wanted to make a few changes. I was nosey and I did ask her what the number was, she replied $927K and some change. Yes, that is well over $300K a year for those of y’all doing the math in your heads. She decided that day that it was time to retire from being a stripper, time to hang-up her rhinestone garter belts, and time to find someplace new to live, somewhere with white beaches like in the magazines, with crystal blue water, and nothing or nobody for miles around. She bought herself a one-way ticket to a place she failed to disclose to me, she finished talking to me, finished her drink, gave me a kiss on the cheek, and hit that stage for the final time at Club X. I didn’t even see her slip out later. I hope she followed her dreams and found what she was looking for, she seemed like a good kid.
I spend quite a bit of my time in my shop doing different things that need to be done. I don’t think I have ever shown any pictures of where I do so much. I had run to the hardware store to get a few things I thought I would be using Saturday. When I came back my attention was drawn to my driveway. I wondered to myself when it started looking so bad. Why it looks so bad I can answer because I drive allot of heavy stuff across it on a regular basis. I never thought I would be needing to re-do the driveway anytime soon. I have had repairs to it done earlier this year because my truck was wider than the drive in spots. I made the mistake of getting by with what I needed versus spending the money and getting what I wanted. Why do we do that? I actually took the picture to send to my wife to let her know I was going to get quotes to have the drive redone. She replied with whatever I want to do is fine with her and she doesn’t see any problem with the way it is. But, when it was a gravel road she hated it and now that the asphalt is getting tore up she is fine with it. This is an area where we always disagree and probably always will. Sadly I let this conversation with my wife distract me from what I was actually on my way to do. It happens on occasion, I see things I want to get done, they get put on the “list” and sooner or later might get done. I try to keep my list in check but there are times it gets blown out of proportion. The purpose of this particular weekend was to just relax, stay off my foot, and continue to recover. But, eventhough my wife and kids were out-of-town I just couldn’t sit still and do absolutely nothing, it’s not who I am and it’s pretty much impossible for me to be still.
When I got out to my shop I was reminded again that I need some kind of pad around the building because it gets a little messy getting in and out at times. Trust me, it’s on the list. This weekend was no different, we got a fair share of rain. Luckily for me, the ground around the building drains pretty well and really fast. Maybe that is why it is always on the back burner. I figure I will probably take the time to grade it out and do it all in gravel sometime this winter. I could do it now but my clutch foot is still full of stitches. I found it was sort of a mistake to drive something with a clutch when I took my truck in for an oil change before running errands to get what I needed. I never knew how much I depended on being able to use my left foot. It’s a challenge to drive but also a challenge to walk. Forget picking anything up heavier than a pillow as I found out. Maybe I should have just planted my but on the couch in front of the television this weekend. There’s time for that later. I’m here now. I’ve returned from the hardware store. I have what I need now and it is time to focus and get it done.
At the beginning of the summer I was given some re-claimed cypress planks from an old house that was torn down a few miles from here. I accepted the wood as payment for helping out doing a bit of tractor work for the guy doing the demolition. He got his truck stuck and he had walked to the back of my property and noticed I was down by the creek and asked me to help him out. There wasn’t much of the cypress wood to salvage but there was enough, I found, after cleaning it all up, to make two doors. This picture does no justice to the size of them since each one of them are 36″ x 84″. They were actually purpose-built, I had the full intention of using them here on my building to replace both of the single person entrance doors which are metal. However, as I get them done I wonder if it is what I really want to do with them. Do they deserve to be more than just shop entrance doors? I took the picture and sent it to my wife for her opinion and she asked me what in the hell I was doing working and why I wasn’t resting. That wasn’t the answer I was looking for but it was the answer I received. So, there they sat for the remainder of the day, staring at me in a way that I could feel the doors asking me if I wasn’t sure of what I wanted to do then why did I do it. Valid question I guess, even if it was from the doors. Perhaps the fumes were getting to me. They aren’t finished yet anyway because I don’t want to completely finish them until I know what they will be used for. Maybe I can just cut my losses of indecision and just sell them, I’ve done it before, made things for the house and decided that it wasn’t what I was looking for. I have began to ask myself why I do it in the first place. Still waiting on the answer by the way.
I spent the rest of the day straightening up my shop, putting things away, and sweeping the floor for the most part. I tried not to move anything because I really don’t want to muck up my foot after 2 1/2 weeks of nursing it back to health. All I know is the sutures come out Wednesday morning if the surgeon “feels” they are ready to come out. Anyway, I happened across some boxes I had put out in the shop over a year ago that should have made it into the attic but ended up in the corner instead. It goes to show I get sidetracked very easily. There was no need to look into the boxes because I knew what was in them. Fortunately they weigh about 100 pounds a piece so they get to stay where I found them. I piddled around in the shop for the remainder of the day. Around dark-thirty I get a text from my wife letting me know they where home and that the gate was stuck open again. So, I closed up shop, jumped on my ATV, and headed up to the gate to see what was up. As I suspected, the linkage had become undone again. I guess it is time to go ahead and replace it this time instead of the band-aid repairs I have been giving it over the last year. Quite honestly I had completely forgot about having it fixed since I personally haven’t had problems with it. But, I had to do another band-aid fix this time and will mess with taking it off tomorrow to have a new one made at the place I bought it from originally. On my trek back up to the house I decided to skip going down to the shop to put my tools up. As I rode up the asphalt drive it hit me again that I didn’t put on my list to get a quote for the replacement of it. Pretty soon I think I need to chuck the list in a bucket and set it on fire. I don’t know why I do lists anymore because I don’t follow what I can’t keep up with. Well, I figure that sooner or later it will all be done. When I get to the house I was informed that I need to light the grill, which was good because I was beginning to wonder what was dinner.
And, by the way, I have decided to sell the doors. I decided this while I was cooking and thinking I was not looking forward to doing a swap out. I will put them up on craigslist later. Meanwhile, if anyone is interested just shoot me an e-mail. Price? the price will completely be based on who is wanting to buy them. Amazing how a little smoke can clear the clouded mind!