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| Absolution; Dean Davies | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jan 3 2017, 04:24 PM (37 Views) | |
| Mikey | Jan 3 2017, 04:24 PM Post #1 |
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Advanced Member
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"If you accept your own decadence, then you can have absolution." -Dean f'n Davies I've always been what you'd call a manwhore. If it had legs and a slit, I would get up in it. I believe pussy hound is the word most commonly used. That was me. I've been with women from Baltimore, to Los Angeles, to Thailand, Holland, and all over the world. I'm not so overly proud as to stake claim that some of it I didn't pay for - I did. Face it, prostitution is far cheaper. I don't have to take a whore out for dinner and open car doors for her. It saves me money. If you don't already know I'm a degenerate, then you don't know me or anything about me. There are things though, that would shock you, you see. See, when I put that ring on Eva's finger everyone said she tamed the wild beast - and yes, she did. It changed me. No - I'm still that same degenerate at heart, but I found someone who I wanted to be that degenerate with and someone who could accept me and all my twisted ways. Here's the big “oh shit” moment - while Eva has my heart, she's not the first. When I first came back home from the Navy, I was all sorts of fucked up. Damaged goods, I believe, is the proper term. Travelling around the world just for the hell of it. One day, I found myself in a brothel in Mexico City, knee deep in pussy and tequila. It only took me a handful of days to drop a few grand, and if you've ever been to Mexico, that's not easy. Then one night, I saw her - Catalina Ruiz. She was the classic Latina beauty; bronzed skin, hair as black as night, big plentiful breasts, one of those so called "phat" asses. I don't know if it was love at first sight, but there was definitely a fair share of lust on my part. I paid, and paid, and paid again. For four days, I was her around the clock client, and for four days, not only did we fuck our brains out, we connected on a personal and a spiritual level. Eventually, I played the knight in shining armor and took Catalina out of that cesspool. We travelled the world together in a whirlwind romance like in the movies. We were madly in love. But I was still a bastard. Eventually, as with anything, the newness of it wore off and real problems started to rise to the surface. Then to complicate matters, Catalina turned up pregnant. She was ecstatic - me - not so much. I was in my early twenties and fresh out of the military. Family was the furthest thing from my mind. So I fucked around - a lot. At this point, we had a home together in Baltimore. While she was at home pregnant, I was gone for days at a time. Weekend trips to Atlantic City, New York City, a weekend flight to Vegas. I never told her where I was going, why I was going, or when I would be home. I didn't care. Now, I did love her - don't take my being a bastard wrong. It wasn't about love though - it was about youthful stupidity and my own need for decadence. I came home after a four day binger in Boston for St. Patty's Day and found Catalina off guard with another man's dick in her mouth. I snapped. I beat him like I had never beaten someone in my life. When Catalina tried to intervene, not in defense of him, but trying to prevent me from killing him, I let my rage take me and I violently shoved her away. Catalina fell down the stairs, tumbling head over heels, and by the time it was said and done, my child - my son - was dead. The moment I found out my child was dead was the moment I had finally come to terms with being a father and wanted the child. I know now, looking back, she didn't fuck him because she was a cheater - that was me. She fucked him to get my attention. She fucked him to open my eyes. We never bounced back from that. She couldn't even look me in face. The first love of my life chose, rather than to be with me and my self destruction - rather than to deal with a bastard like me, she'd rather head back to Mexico City. Last I heard, she was once again lost in the lifestyle of prostitution yet again. I tell this story and open myself up because this woman would have much rather been a whore for hire, fucking strangers for money in a run down brothel, wiping the sperm from her face, full of humiliation rather than to spend another moment with me. That speaks volumes about me and my character. That I can be that reprehensible; that self degradation and a life of no meaning is more appealing and enjoyable than life by my side. Thank God Eva saved me, but that's another story for another time. The thing is, I've come to terms with who I am and what I've done. I know my self destructive ways and have made peace with my degenerative side. Jason Sandman has yet to do this, and he likely never will. An ex-wife he never sees. One who hates his fucking guts and would rather see him dead than to have to look at his face. A son who would much rather live with his cunt of a mother than to be with his father as a son should be, learning to be a man. A daughter who Jason will destroy, if he hasn't already, as he molds her into a poor version of himself. Most importantly - a long dead wife he still pines over. There's a common strand that threads it all together - the so called "Angel". The Angel has become a legend all his own. He's the side of Sandman people supposedly "fear". He's the side he can't control. He's the side that those who wish to see destruction call upon. He's the side I call bullshit on. It's the same shit, same person, different day. I have a theory, hear me out. As we've all seen, Jason Sandman is a reprehensible person. A poor excuse of a human being hiding under the guise of a loving father. A father, he may not have always been, but a waste of skin and air - since birth. Jason Sandman had a wife once who he loved. A wife named Britney. But as with Jason, he's a fuck up. Just like me, despite his love, I'm sure, knowing Jason, he made himself unlovable. Then one day, she sees a way out. A crack head goes to rob her and something inside of her says "this is it, this is my way out. I don't have to deal with Jason anymore" so she fought it. Why not? It works and she's a fucking hero. It doesn't - well, she has her way out. It's called a death wish. See, I think Britney chose to die in her own little twisted way because just like taking an eye full of a strange man's cum was a better alternative to life with me, death was a better alternative to life with Jason. But I may be wrong. Maybe younger Jason Sandman wasn't the man I know now. I won't pretend to know. But here's what I do know. If there is a heaven she's up there looking down at him, and what he is and what he has become in disgust - and I believe my "good friend" Jason knows this, thus he manifested Angel himself as his own fucking absolution. It's his own way of washing his hands of the situation and not accepting responsibility for what he is and what he's done. This has been my problem with Jason since day one. In an alternate world and a different reality, Jason and I could be the best of friends, but in this world and this reality, it won't happen because I can't stand someone who can't accept responsibility for what they are. I'm Dean Davies. I'm the bad guy. I just don't mean the bad guy, I'm the bad guy that bad guys hate. I take the most twisted things I can think of, I do it to people for pure enjoyment, I relish in it and I laugh. And I own it. I know what I am, I came to terms with that long ago. I came to terms with what I am the moment I sent Catalina running back to Mexico City. It wasn't until I learned to embrace it that I truly found myself. But you, Jason. One wife dead, another who doesn't want anything to do with you. One child you barely see and another that you are fucking up by turning her into your own little clone, and you still don't get it. You still don't own it. You piss in the seat of a commentator and don't have the balls to follow it up. You brutally beat someone and then you blame it on Angel. You visit your wife’s grave to play a sympathy card and ask her if she's proud and then you throw acid in my wife's face? ACID IN HER FUCKING FACE!! The only thing you've made her proud of is the fact that she doesn't have to look into your eyes and show her disappointment. All you've done is allow her to take pride in her death to get as far away from you as she can. And THIS is why we have the Angel. So Jason can be...well...Jason, without owning it. So he can wipe his hands of his own actions and create his own little fucking fiction where his long dead wife has any kind of sympathy for the man he is. In a few short days, I could care less about some Butch Match. It's all smoke and mirrors. Some fabrication created to intimidate me and throw me off my game. The thought never came to Jason that maybe the prospect of this match makes my dick hard. A chance to have my own form of absolution in what is the equivalent of a warzone. I thrive in a warzone. I flourish in the extreme. That's why I was black ops. That's why I'm a degenerate. That's why I'm the black sheep of a senator’s son. I welcome the challenge because right now there is nothing more that I want than the blood of Sandman on my hands. I'm not Slade - I'm not looking to stack my win and loss record. I'm not my wife - fighting to protect a belt while jockeying myself for better positioning for an upgrade. I'm not Captain Howdy - a relic of the past who can't accept his future of irrelevance. I'm Dean fucking Davies. In that ring, I only care about one thing, and that's taking satisfaction in the shortcoming of others. Breaking someone down to their most feeble self, and then laughing as I take it all in. You're not prepared for that Jason. You never have been and you never will be. That's why you created the Angel, but even "he" can't save you, because I will dance in your blood at For Love of Gold. Not to sound like someone so clichéd as Saffron or Angel Blake, but maybe in the end, my sadism will bless you. Perhaps once I break you, you can have your absolution to become something your dead wife can at least glance upon without contempt. For my sake, I sure as hell hope not. |
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7:16 PM Jul 11
