The one with the child sex slave and the vibrating anal beads
Back in time again, to the beginning of my second year at university. The following action will actually take place in the same bedroom that would later be involved in the ‘Voyeur Mother‘ story. Again, Lilu’s blog has a bunch of other embarrassing Too Much Information stories, if mine doesn’t make you squirm enough — which I find highly unlikely.
I looked down at plastic, pink spheres, graded in order of size, neatly strung together to form a chain of ten. Someone had left them on the kitchen table — a present? For me? I tentatively reached forward to pick them up when one of my female house mates walked into the kitchen, looked down, the blood draining from her face.
“SEB! Stop!” My hand stopped mere inches from the purple balls. I turned around and looked at her. Her eyes were large, afraid and she stood transfixed, simply staring at the string of beads on the table.
“What…?”
“Th-th-those are… vibrating Thai love beads!” I recoiled and quickly scampered to a safe position behind her, peeking over her shoulder at the dirty, sinful orbs. “Love-what?” I was a late bloomer. I hadn’t a frickin’ clue what love beads were, or why they would be on my kitchen table. In retrospect, it’s even more shocking to realise that she knew what they were. She quickly told me what they were and what they were for. Ew.
Skirting around the outside of the kitchen, holding onto the worktop for support, I made my way to the sink to grab a spatula and some washing-up gloves. “So why are they on our kitchen table?” I scooped them up, holding them at arm’s length. I teased my house mate a little with my beads-on-a-stick. She screamed and ran away. But then I started to think about things: if they’re not mine, and they’re not hers, whose are they? I quickly ruled out two other house mates — they were even more vanilla than I — which left just one other house mate. The dark horse. The sex pest. The one with an Asian girlfriend that looked about 12 years old. Philip, or Phil as he preferred to be called. It was all slotting into place: he’d just come back from a trip to the Far East and he certainly had all the tell-tale signs of being a bit of a bedroom odd-job.
If the kid-like girlfriend wasn’t enough, let’s just say that when I walked into his bedroom and found a couple of restraints tied to the head of the bed, I knew they weren’t for his girlfriend. And neither was the ball gag or spiked paddle, if the noises we’d heard in the middle of the night were anything to go by. Phil, it’s safe to say, was a bit creepy.
So with the spatula extended as far away as possible, the malevolently whiffy beads hung over the end, I walked towards to his bedroom and knocked.
“Come in.” I shuddered. I bet he’d used that line before, whispered huskily to his strap-on wielding pre-pubescent girlfriend. I pushed the door open and he quickly smiled. “So that’s where they are!” Another shudder as I drop them onto his bed and make a hasty exit, keeping my eyes to the floor, saying nothing. My house mate is waiting for me as I leave his room, her big eyes silently asking how’d it go? I shrug listlessly and head back into the kitchen to wash my hands and put the kettle on.
I thought that was the last time I would see anal beads. I was wrong.
…
This is where it gets bad. You probably want to look away now if you don’t deal well with visceral, gory imagery.
A few months passed. Life in the house went by with absolutely no talk of love beads, sex toys or any other kind of interesting apparatus. We even learnt, in time, to turn a blind eye on the Filipino sex slave that he’d probably drugged and brought back to England for his vile bedroom antics.
And then one, dark, stormy night I was sitting in the kitchen enjoying a particularly fine spaghetti bolognese — is there any other pasta dish at university? — when the phone rung. Ring. Just another forkful; perhaps someone else would come to pick the phone up. Fat chance I thought, cudding, chewing, ruminating on the pasta. Brring-ring, chew-chomp. I hate being interrupted by the telephone. It’s so presumptuous to think that someone on the other end actually wants to pick up and that they’re not in the middle of something else. Rrrrrring. I sigh and pick up the phone.
Hi. Is Phil there? It’s his mum. I need to talk to him. It’s an emergency.
I call out his name, no response. Louder, still no response. “He’s probably asleep” I say, sighing down the phone. Really, it’s an emergency, could you go wake him up?
Knock. Knock. No response. I push my ear up against the door. Muffled grunts? The noises of Phil waking up from a deep sleep? Still no response. Knock. Thump. His mother’s voice still weedling away in my ear please, Seb, wake him up, his dad’s just been rushed to hospital. I’m hammering away at the door now — maybe he’s not even in, maybe he’s over at his paedophilic flight of fancy’s flat. Screw it, I barge through the door, his mother’s whining finally pushing me over the edge.
“MmffphhHFNGgrng!”
Ball-gagged and restrained — his wrists to the bed, his legs to his wrists. Take a moment to get a good mental image — OK, are you there now, with me? — his legs were up along each side of his head, his body bent in two. His waxed, smooth ass fully exposed. Just visible, at the eye of the storm, was a hot-pink shiny hemisphere. A wire ran from his puckered orifice to the control box held in his nubile teen’s tiny hands. She was wearing tall heels and not much else.
As I walked further into the room his eyes bulged and looked to the phone still held in my hand.
“GrnngFFGNGFurgnmmpf–UCK, SEB! WHAT’RE YOU DOING?”
His girlfriend had finally unbuckled the ball-gag.
“It’s your mum. Should I tell her you’re busy?”
Related posts:
- Phil’s parting prophylactic present
- Shared accomodation is great until your housemate’s mother watches you screw your girlfriend
- Time-Travel Thursday: After the first crush but before my first long-term girlfriend
He sounds like fun!
May 28th, 2009 at 7:54 amOMG hahahaha love that last line!!
you tell this story really well…
freaky deaky.
and ew ew ew.
May 28th, 2009 at 8:01 amI’m with the PJB! Dear god, that was hilarious. Now people in the library are giving me evil looks. It seems that one shouldn’t make that much noise in a library where people are trying to study. You’re a bad influence.
I can’t even feel sorry for how freaked out you probably were because I’m laughing too much!
xx
May 28th, 2009 at 8:14 am“GrnngFFGNGFurgnmmpf–UCK, SEB! WHAT’RE YOU DOING?”
His girlfriend had finally unbuckled the ball-gag.
Genius.
OK, this is well written. I take my hat off to you. Incidentally, I knew a guy with similar predilictions (or so we supposed) who’s MUM arrived one day to visit him in Halls.. and decided to tidy his room.
Poor, poor woman.
May 28th, 2009 at 10:01 amOmg!!!! How funny!! I really wasn’t expecting that!
I’d just like to mention though that not all love beads are vibrating….so….how did the girl house mate identify them as that (in the kitchen) if she had not seen that particular set before??? x
May 28th, 2009 at 10:52 amThai love beads, thats not true. They do not sell sex toys here. I have never seen them here…trust me if they sold them here I would kave known…..wait…let me think about what I said there for a minute.
May 28th, 2009 at 10:56 amha ha that is hilarious..how did you housemate know what they were if she has never seen them before hey?!
May 28th, 2009 at 11:26 amJen: A wire and a remote control probably gave it away, if the picture is close to true ;o)
May 28th, 2009 at 12:24 pm@ Darryl…oops! I didn’t really look at the picture! thanks for clarifying though! hehe. I do like to believe that Phil shared himself with the house though, I’ve made him into that kind of chap (in my mind).
Seb…have you read Lilu’s TMI yet? I actually thought it was Phil to start with!!
May 28th, 2009 at 12:33 pmYou see, I’ve been plagued with that question for the last 5 years — how did she know what they were?
Two options — a) She had an illicit affair with Phil the year before (she was the one that suggested him as our final house mate). This is a repulsive thought though, one which I can’t even begin to think about. She’s way too lovely to date someone like Phil.
Or b) She’d simply heard about them on Sex and the City — I THINK they were featured on the show around that time. Or mentioned in passing.
I like to think that’s why she knows about them, anyway … …
Chele — I think that’s just their name internationally. Some crazy invention from the ‘Kok maybe? Maybe you guys call them ‘Malay love beads’… who knows! Have you used them then…?
There are more stories about this Phil guy, I’m sure you’ll be glad to hear
May 28th, 2009 at 12:39 pmthe image i currently have in my head is not pretty!!are u ok now seb tht must hve haunted your fragile mind for a while but truth be told am also laughing hysterically!!!
university is a learning experience and tht day you def learnt a whole lot more than you bargained for:)
May 28th, 2009 at 12:44 pmBwahahaha.
I love your story telling skills.
The last line was classic!
May 28th, 2009 at 12:51 pmHilarious. And what a coinkydink…mine are purple, too!
May 28th, 2009 at 1:34 pmaaargh!
“puckered orifice”!?
…poetic.
and don’t worry, Seb – it was either Sex and the City or a girly mag she learnt it from.
My money’s on a girly mag… they’re always trying to out-do each others’ “how to please your man” articles.. and oftentimes it gets out of hand..
May 28th, 2009 at 2:52 pmI’m still not sure just how… wordy… I should be when describing more-intimate parts of the body, or its functions. I think I’ll stick to euphemisms for now — people can read as much into them as they’re comfortable with!
I hope she never tried to please her man like that. She’s lovely, but she’s dating (and now living with) one of the most boring people in the world. But, having said that, it is the outwardly-boring people that normally end up being into the weird stuff…
And thanks for the kind words. I’m still working on my story-telling technique. It should continue to improve…
May 28th, 2009 at 2:56 pmno no – it’s perfect! just the right amount of wordy. I like your style, yo’…
And I’m sure she never! Ha! NO one takes those articles seriously. (i…hope…)
May 28th, 2009 at 3:02 pmFilth. Sheer filth. but… they’re just… fascinating.
Like the Problem Pages! always good for a bit of a Lol..
hahahaha poor guy!! not the position you want to be in during a family emergency… gross.
reading your and lilu’s blog makes me feel like there’s two kinds of “sex”– sex and sex 2.0. And you guys know a lot about sex 2.0.
May 28th, 2009 at 3:23 pmPing — I’ve actually been toying with the idea of some kind of Agony Uncle column… *waggles eyebrows*
Kids have too much time on their hands nowadays, Sarah. Back in the oooolden days, sex was all about makin’ BABIES! And then later, upon discovery of the clitoris and g-spot, it started to be about the PLEASURE…
And today, probably thanks to the constant one-upmanship (apparently that’s how it’s spelt) prevalent in AMERICA, sex is now about being as weird and funky as possible.
It’s all the Internet’s fault, I tells ya!
May 28th, 2009 at 3:29 pmi want to hear more about phil.
May 28th, 2009 at 3:33 pmLMAO. I am sure that sight would scar me for life! I once walked in on my roommate getting out of the shower and I was embarrassed, I can’t imagine how mortified I would have been if I had seen THAT.
May 28th, 2009 at 3:44 pmIf it was any of my other housemates I would’ve been petrified in place, scarred for life.
But this was Phil. And Phil was an odd creature
I want to tell you why, but… damnit… I’ll spoil more stories!
May 28th, 2009 at 3:49 pm*wince*
*shift weight*
*eyes dart*
*snicker stifled like a 12 year old boy*
*rendered speechless*
I feel dirty.
*needs to go wash his hands, or something.*
May 28th, 2009 at 3:53 pmIs there a story to tell there, Chase…?
They could be Tai love beads instead, a mere typo on the packaging…
May 28th, 2009 at 4:02 pmyou’re pretty much the best story teller there is.
i don’t even know what to say… this is FREAKY. i feel like i need to go shower now.
May 28th, 2009 at 5:03 pmI’m surprised you still have your eyes. I would have clawed mine out at that moment.
May 28th, 2009 at 5:07 pmwhoa people are gross… i blame it on the internet as well. dirty, dirty internet
May 28th, 2009 at 5:17 pmBarf! Please tell me he moved out not too long after that incident!
May 28th, 2009 at 5:37 pmThank you, Miss Ginger (wouldn’t ‘Flame’ or ‘Auburn’ be a bit more attractive than Ginger? At least here in the UK…)
He moved out a month or two later, Hannah, at the end of the year. I took his room, and a self-harming gay guy moved into my old room.
Thinking about it, I slept in the same bed that he’d done a whole lot of nasty things in… ew…
May 28th, 2009 at 5:45 pmAH! ICK! What a sight to walk in on. Imagine if his MOM walked in on that though!!
May 28th, 2009 at 6:15 pmSebastian! I’m so scared that you lived with this guy! At least… you can think of it as… at least it was some kind of adventure? Good blog fodder?
I don’t know what I would have done if I’d been in that situation. One time I saw a vibrator and I almost passed out. I’m so weird.
May 28th, 2009 at 6:33 pmThat must have been one hell of an awkward moment for you.
I am sorry that you had to witness something as horrible as your roommate being tied into a pretzel, with a lovely set of pink thai love beads hanging at the end of his keister.
*FACEPALM*
Regardless, I had a lot of fun reading this entry. It kept me at the edge of my seat!
May 28th, 2009 at 7:28 pm“It was all slotting into place”
That’s what she said.
Was he hairy? He sounds hair.
May 28th, 2009 at 7:59 pmwow, I’m torn between being horrified and laughing.
I’ve walked in on *busy* friends…but they were never quite THAT busy. hahahahaha I would have been scarred for life.
May 28th, 2009 at 8:44 pmAnother good response to Phil’s Mom:
“Just a minute, he’s a bit tied up and can’t talk right now.”
If she continued to insist:
“No, seriously, he’s tied to his headboard and has a ball gag in his mouth.”
If it was me, I’d have automatically gone with choice #2.
May 28th, 2009 at 9:39 pmNot that this wasn’t a great post… but given your little blurbs about it, I was sort of expecting this to um… involve you a bit more…
No beads for Sebby?
May 28th, 2009 at 9:47 pmGrim, Kevin… very grim. But… I wish I’d thought of that at the time. Damn. I guess I’m just not quite as mean as you?
He wasn’t that hairy actually. He was very ‘refined’, shall we say. The kind of guy that waxes his body hair (yes, all of it) and keeps short-cropped head hair. No beard even. Girls thought he was pretty cute, which is probably why he could get away with being such a pest…!
No, no beads for me Rini. I mean, I’m not ruling it out! Maybe if I find myself in a very loving, adventurous relationship again… but vibrating beads are not the kind of thing you pull out on a one-night stand.
Not THAT awkward, Tiff. I mean, I knew he was a bit of a weirdo — we’d talked about his bedroom antics before, around the dinner table. We’d just never experienced it first-hand. If I had walked in on one of my innocent, wide-eyed, what-you-can’t-put-it-in-there-that’s-dirty house mates, it would have been truly awful.
May 28th, 2009 at 11:25 pmOH NO!!!! too funny!!!
i cannot even being to imagine the humiliation and mortification felt by the poor creepy boy. wow.
and you. you have that image burned into your retinas forever! how i pity you a little bit. ok. a lotta bit.
May 29th, 2009 at 3:36 amand thats when you joined in. admit it.
May 29th, 2009 at 3:44 amWell I’d be lying if I said I didn’t also fancy his girlfriend… (even if she was a bit too young by my standards…)
But…
The ball gag thing doesn’t really appeal to me. I’ve been restrained before — that’s OK, but not with my legs over my head… and blindfolds are quite fun!
May 29th, 2009 at 12:59 pmOh Seb I love how I plant the tiniest of suggestions and you just spill about your likes and dislikes…I’ll be sure to write them all down, you know, just in case
May 29th, 2009 at 2:11 pmThat’s why I spill… so that girls like you are ready, when I come a-knockin’.
May 29th, 2009 at 2:20 pmI found my way here from our favorite little insomniac Andhari. Then I found this and just couldn’t seem to take my eyes away.
Now I feel violated.
I will return here which might be creepy because of that last sentence. Whatevs.
May 31st, 2009 at 10:59 pmHopefully, if I wrote it right, it felt a bit like a rollercoaster. You knew there was a steep drop coming, you knew your stomach would fly up under your chin somewhere, you just weren’t sure when or where.
Sounds like I nailed it…
May 31st, 2009 at 11:07 pm“come in”. I shuddered.
omgd i can imagine exactly how you shuddered and i cannot stop laughing ever since (and am not planning to stop laughing for the next minute – and i dont care if you want to call me crazy, seb) LOL.
i mean, imagining your creepy friend, phil (sorry phil, that’s seb’s word, not mine – just in case he’s reading this in secret
) said that in his creepy word.
ok, my turn to shudder.
June 1st, 2009 at 8:48 pmIt’s a good story about anal beads.. You actually don’t know what is anal beads before and that sounds so funny..lol
October 14th, 2009 at 8:45 amI was a very late bloomer…!
(Also, not many people know what anal beads are you, you know
)
October 14th, 2009 at 12:41 pm