The Life and Times of Hipster Racist

Comments, criticism, and hush money welcome.


Kinky Sex Fetish: A Manhattan Murder Mystery

Kinky Sex Fetish: A Manhattan Murder Mystery
Kinky Sex Fetish: A Manhattan Murder Mystery

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

The Slut Power

The Slut Power
The Slut Power

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5



Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

High School Harlots

High School Harlots
High School Harlots

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6



Strugglefucking Holly
Helpless Holly
Holly In Harm’s Way
Hazardous For Holly
Holly’s Heart
Catch Holly
Hurting Holly
Busting Holly
Forgetting Holly

AE911Truth: Experts Speak Out
Zero: An Investigation Into 9/11
9/11: Press For Truth
Hypothesis: The Story of Dr. Steven E. Jones
Architects and Engineers for 9/11 Truth
WTC7 Research
Remember Building 7


Breaking Feminazis

I don’t care, I think this is the funniest stuff ever. It’s side-splittingly hilarious. No, I don’t find it erotic in the slightest. Sure, it’s sort of meant to be offensive, but that’s why I love it.

Warning: Extremely Not Safe For Work


It’s full of some really ugly porn, so to save anyone from having to click, I’m going to copy some of the best titles here. The set up is that there is a Gender Civil War, the Feminists vs. the Patriarchs, and the Patriarchs win and enslave women and single out activist feminists for sexy spankings and humiliating punishments. It had been taken down but it’s back up. Some of the best gems:

Feminist POWs play tug of war with their chains as they natural cattiness prevents them from agreeing whether cooking or cleaning comes 1st in their domestic duties.

Former Congresswomen of the Feminist Republic now serving as cunt-slaves in a Misogynist Warlord’s harem

A Misogynist Master removes the intellectual glasses from the caged Feminist Academic, as his little pet will never have the need to read a big book of Feminist Theory ever again

The belief in Gender Equality is a form of insanity that can only be cured in Patriarchal Asylums with the medicine of Misogynist cock

Pro-Choice Feminist Activists are kidnapped by Christian Patriarchs and forced to carry fetuses to term and give birth in submission as punishment for their Feminist sins.

But a true feminist would not be kneeling in her sexy lingerie before an audience waiting to be spanked. The audience clearly loved the incongruity of a feminist stripped and humiliated and they were bringing up her feminism and capitulation

Professor Margaret Kane, a respected Feminist Philosophy Theorist had tried to explain to her class of horny frat boys all the Ethical reasons why the New Patriarchy Regime was immoral.

Under the misogyny the police from the fempire were allowed to keep their old jobs as long as they agreed to a uniform change

The nice thing about Feminism is that the whores usually forget about it as soon as they get a dick in them

Removed from the prison of Feminism, these whores have quickly turned into mindless sex toys

MRA reduces Feminist Superheroines to kitchen bitches

It took Andrea surprisingly little time to stop being the depressed, fat assed cow she had been as a Feminist after her college was captured by Patriarchy troops

After the Patriarchy’s final conquest women were kicked out of the workforce, but some agreed to the honor of being office sex toys for $2 an hour

The dethroned heiress hangs her head in shame. All her life the Duchess had enjoyed the finer things. She was the glamorous, sophisticated, shining star of the elite. Then came the Revolution, and she finally saw herself for what she really was- just another shiny object. She was re-appropriated by the People along with her mansion, diamonds, cars and chandeliers.

Now she along with her possessions are being shipped overseas to pay the Republic’s debts. She is just another fragile, easily breakable object. She had defined her life by possessions, now she will be a possession. Her sparkling chains and delicate silk lingerie, are not hers, but for the pleasure of her Master. She is just Fragile cargo no different than glass.

Sick of the stiflingly rigid Patriarchy back East, Suffragette Settlers set off Westward Ho to the Frontier, to build a new utopian community of complete Gender Equality. Their isolated coastal community made up entirely of single women, is too tempting a target for Qing Raiders however. They are captured and their most private intimacies are marked with painful tattoos, permanently branding them as White Sex Slaves.

They then endure a horrifying trip across the Pacific, chained below deck to be sold on the Shanghai slave-market to the highest bidder. If they are lucky they will end up in the harem of a powerful Warlord with the means to take care of them. The unlucky ones will have to earn their keep, serving hordes of Men, in the cheap brothels.

The great Amazon Warrior Queen Hippolyta is captured in battle by Theseus. Women Warriors are not given the honor of dying on the battlefield, they are too valuable as breeding animals to waste.The attempt by her sisters to rescue her are defeated. She shed many bitter tears as she saw her glorious Amazon armies mowed down, as she watched enchained from the palace. She burned in shame, as she realized all their heroism was wasted. Their Queen was no more, she was just a Greek slavegirl. Now the proud Amazon wild conqueror will learn the humble life of an Athenian housewife. She is to spend her days weaving and her nights fucking. All of her Amazon Warrior nonsense is to be forgotten and she is to learn to be an obedient Greek wife. Her wild untamed barbarian pubic bush will be shaved into a gracefully trimmed rose garden.

Her womb will receive the seed of her conqueror. She is put on display as a mere war trophy. Theseus’s other slave girls have their curiosity get the better of them, and they are constantly sneaking peaks at their slave-sister. They can’t believe that a former Warrior Queen is now a fellow harem slave. The only battles she will fight now is that of childbirth.

During the early days of the Men’s Resistance Army’s actions against the Feminist Regime, individual men could only strike out in small lonewolf propaganda actions against prominent Feminist commissars. These small victories helped undermine Feminism’s ideological claims about the innate equality between the sexes.

The outspoken Feminist College President was raided in her own home by a gang of frat boys. Thrown onto her bed, she was forced to hold her labia lips open, as the MRAs snapped photos. She turned aside with her eyes closed in shame. Nothing better debunked Feminist Ideology, than photos of proud Feminist leaders covering in fear, before hulking MRA brutes. No one could claim that the 2 creatures in that picture were in anyway equal.

The poor widow had not even had time to mourn her husband’s tragic death, when the bloodsucking loanshark who had driven her husband to suicide, had the nerve to show his face. Wiping away tears she slapped the merciless bastard with as much force was her womanly hands could muster. He just laughed an informed her that under the Patriarchal Legal Code she was now his property.

She couldn’t believe her ears. And told him to get the fuck out. He handed to her the MRA Civil Code and to her horror it was all true. She would not even be given the mercy of attending her own husband’s funeral. Instead she was to be taken away immediately to become the fuck-slave of her husband’s worst enemy. Her black mourning lingerie just aroused the beast more.

With her husband always away on business trips, the Women’s Libber would brag to all her friends about the privilege and independence she enjoyed. She was practically a free woman with no Male Oversight. The power soon went to her head, and she even recklessly began holding Feminist Consciousness Raising Sessions in her living room. All her friends were invited to share stories about how Patriarchy was holding them down. She beamed with pride, feeling like the leader among Womyn.

But then one night her husband came home early from his trip, right in the middle of her Womyn’s Lib Consciousness Raising. She screamed in utter humiliation, when in front of all her Feminist friends, her husband threw her over the knee like a little child, and gave her a hard spanking. She blushed in shame as she saw all her Feminist sisters, who had once admired her, shaking their heads in disgust. She would never again be taken seriously by any of her friends and neighbors. Her Feminist credentials went down as quick as her panties. She was just another terrified, helpless housewife at the mercy of her husband.

The Mysterious Suffragette Wanderer had rode into town determined to clear out the bandits who dared to kidnap and sell women as cattle. Now having been captured, beaten, ravaged and marched across town naked, she is desperate just to get out. The same tough woman who had planned to being the brigands to justice, now begs for their mercy, just to ride out of town with her horse and carpetbag butt naked. This once fearsome Western heroine has to beg for mercy just for the privilege of leaving town naked.


TO: HipsterRacist@yahoo.com FROM: YogaAss@hotmail.com

Hipster, sitting at his desk, is going through his email. All of a sudden, a familiar name pops up. Millions of thoughts rush through his brain.

Is she going to tell him about the baby? Is it even his? Is it a boy or a girl? It would be about two years old now. Is she going to come clean? Does she want to meet? Did she break up with her boyfriend?

Hipster pauses, wipes a bead of sweat from his brow.

Maybe she wants child support. Maybe her boyfriend figured out it wasn’t his. Has she been thinking about him?

Anticipation. Dread. Joy. Elation. Fear. Happiness. Sadness. Anger. Confusion.

Hipster clicks the email.

“Hi Hipster, how are you? Remember that project we worked on a long time ago? Well I’m having some issues, can you help? ktnks bye … Dancer.”


Forgetting Holly


What do you think I am, some sort of monster?


Hey, what’s the point of this? Oh hey
What’s your favorite song? Maybe we could hum along

Hey, maybe just a smile, oh hey, did you know
That I can dance? Could we talk for awhile?

I think you’re smart, you sweet thing
Tell me your name, I’m dying here

Got you where I want you
Got you where I want you



Busting Holly


Come on, you knew it wasn’t going to end well. They caught the two guys a month or so later, red handed, breaking into an animal research facility. So we wound up not needing Holly at all. Which made me feel like shit. I was getting reassigned so I had to make my exit. I came up with some sort of lame excuse about transferring to another university. I promised Holly we would stay in touch. I’m not sure if she really believed me or not. Then, just before I left, she called me up and told me she had something serious to tell me.

I went over and just held her as she cried and cried. We just laid down on the couch and held each other. I took her to get it done a week later, paid for everything, then helped her move her stuff out of the dorms for Christmas break, took her home. We didn’t talk for maybe two weeks afterwards, she didn’t want to.

It got worse. One of the guys I had met at hockey sent me an email telling me I should probably see this. It was all the pictures. I think her bitch of a roommate, Stephanie, had gotten into her laptop and emailed them around. It looked horrible of course. Like something out of a horror movie. I mean, no one would understand anyway. Holly called me up in panic. I assured her I didn’t do it, I mean I would never. It was vicious gossip among all the students over Christmas break. She was getting harassing email – nasty stuff, from women and men. Just totally unnecessary bullying. People are assholes.


It all just blew up in our faces. She skipped the spring semester then transferred to some other college, she never went back. We did stay in touch but we were never together after that. Sometimes we would promise to get together but neither of us really believed it.

Just like that, it was all over. I asked for leave from work. I drank for nearly a month, basically, alone in my apartment, feeling like the biggest asshole alive.

I’ve been roaming around, always looking down, at all I see
Painted faces fill the places I can’t reach
You know that I could use somebody

Someone like you and all you know and how you speak
Countless lovers undercover on the street

Off in the night, while you live it up I’m off to sleep
Waging wars to shape the poet and the beat

I hope it’s gonna make you notice

You know that I could use somebody
You know that I could use somebody
Someone like you


Hurting Holly

What have I become?
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know
Goes away in the end


So it escalated. I wanted to push her limits – to find her limits. Find her boundaries, then break them. So, I gagged her and tied her up. It drove her crazy. While I was doing it, I’d just do this trash talk routine. Playful threats, “oh the things I’m going to do to you” – that sort of thing. I mean, writing them down and it sounds terrible. But Holly understood. She liked it.

She was asking for it.

So, I gave it to her.

And how!

We played the game all over campus. She’d text me: “catch holly.” And I’d stalk her. We pretended we didn’t even know each other. I’d just stare at her from across the quad, or “accidentally” brush into her and say, “excuse me, ma’am” or something like that. One time – we were both pretty drunk – I was being really aggressive, fucking her in her dorm room. She broke into tears. So I stopped – I asked her what’s wrong? Is she ok? What happened? She smiled through the tears and said “don’t stop.”

So, I didn’t.


She was kind of rough herself. I mean I still have scars on my back. She liked the pain. Spanking, hair pulling, choking, slapping, all of it. She really couldn’t get enough. She said it made her feel, ironically, calm. Safe. I dunno, since I put her in these situations where she had no control, she just sort of relaxed and let it happen. And wow, every emotion a woman is able to feel – I made her feel each and every one. From the sweetest pleasure to the most aching pain. From laughter, to tears, from happiness to sadness, from fear to safety, I played her body like a piano.

Then, I dunno, a few months later she says something that floored me. I mean, you really never know how people are. I figured this girl was experienced sexually. I mean, really. She’s a feminist, pro-choice activist and was always trying to “reclaim” words like “slut” and “whore.” I just assumed she had been around the block a few times.

But then she told me that I was her first.

I mean, I didn’t break her hymen or anything. She wasn’t “technically” a virgin. She had lost her virginity in high school to some random guy, then had a high school boyfriend she said she had sex with “a few times.” But I was her first lover – her first man. Probably gave her her first orgasm.

When she said it, I wanted to cry.

You could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt


Catch Holly

We spend all weekend playing “Catch Holly” at her parent’s house. The rules were simple: someone says “catch Holly,” she starts running, and I catch her. Wherever I catch her, that’s where we do it. Sometimes she would resist, sort of, just to make me work for it. Good lord it was hot. We did it everywhere all over the house, the living room, downstairs, against the washing machine, on the kitchen floor. Honestly we did it so much when she said “catch Holly” for like the fourth time Saturday night, I had to beg for mercy. We’re sitting on the couch, and I say, “please, Holly, I’m exhausted. I’m raw. Can’t we just have some wine and watch a movie?” I put on this playfully distressed face, and she cracks up, smiles, and just puts her head down on my lap. I start stroking her hair, lean forward, and just breathe her in. I dunno, it smelled like hair. Like Holly.


The sense of smell is strongly connected to very deep, primitive parts of your brain. As I breathed in, I felt a rush of emotion. Vague, sort of hazy memories run through my head. All of a sudden I felt this ache, this need. I dunno. I all of a sudden felt weak. This was a familiar feeling, I had felt it before. But in just a few seconds, it’s gone.

Then I felt guilty as shit.

I wasn’t being particularly honest with her, at all. I mean, she had no idea. In many ways she was just an innocent bystander. She wasn’t even our target, she was just our doorway in to two radical environmentalist types we suspected of vandalizing a few research labs last year. If you’re scratching your head asking why I went in as a pro-life Christian, to target a group of radical leftists – good. We call it oppositional recruitment and it works precisely because it’s so unexpected. I mean these groups were always on the lookout for us posing as eager young volunteers, so coming at them from the other side, they never, ever see it coming.


Oh yes, I had played it off flawlessly. She thought I was some sexist Christian rube with my head stuffed full of right wing propaganda, and she loved arguing with me. And oh yes, she was particularly delighted at the idea of seducing some pro-lifer and converting him to the cause. Which is what was making me feel like shit, because, smart as Holly is, she lacks the self-awareness we learn as professionals. She wants to “change the world” which means, psychologically, we understand what motivates her.

Now you’re allowed to sleep with them, we’ve won that in court more than once. But falling in love is considered very unprofessional.

So just then Holly starts stroking my thigh really softly, being sexy. We’re like 20 minutes into the movie and she starts it up again. I playfully slap her hands away. “Holly, enough. Watch the movie. Fine.” I laugh. I sort of push her head down towards my knee and start unbuckling my belt. She looks surprised and smiles, and lifts her head off my lap and just watches me with bemusement.

I say, “give me your hands.” She sticks her hands out, wrists together, and I wrap my belt around them, twist it, then buckle it. I mean she could squirm out of it obviously. I tell her, “ok lie down” and she lies down on her back, over my lap, with her hands outstretched and I say, “now keep still I’m watching the movie.” She gets this funny look and relaxes, closes her eyes and sort of drifts off. I just sort of rub her belly under her shirt and make it, maybe, three quarters of the way into the movie. I dunno when the DVD ends and it start playing the menu loop really loud, I wake her up and lead her upstairs to her room and we fall asleep in her bed.


Holly’s Heart

And I will be the one
who holds you down
Kiss you so hard
I’ll take your breath away
And after I wipe away the tears
Just close your eyes dear


It happened so fast. So the day after the speech thing, Holly and I were in her dorm room, on her bed, studying. Or pretending to study. We were mostly talking and just sort of lying around. She’s pushed up against me so I sort her push on her side and tell her to move over and give me some room. She says “no” and then moves even closer. So, you know, I tickled her on her waist and she went nuts.

“Oh, you’re ticklish huh?” I said, deviously and tickled her more. I don’t know, one minute of this and we were tangled together all over each other, kissing and groping and very turned on. That’s when I held her down the first time. I was on top of her and just held her hands over her head, by her wrists, and she would push up trying to break free. This got her way hot and got her off hard.

Then it just got crazier.


We started playing “catch Holly.” Either one of us could say it – “catch Holly” – but once someone said it, I would chase her around her room, her trying to avoid me, then catch her, pick her up, throw her on the bed, and hold her down. Sometimes we would be giggling and laughing when playing. Other times it was dead serious, her really trying to avoid me catching her. But I always got her in the end.

And each time I caught her, the game would just get more intense.

So one time she said, “catch Holly” and tried to jump over the bed before I had time to react. But she misjudged and I caught her ankle right when she was sprawled over the bed on her stomach. I said, “I don’t think so” and swatted her on her ass pretty hard. I expected her to giggle, or to laugh, or to scream. But she didn’t.

She moaned.

So, you know, I kept doing it.

This went on for half the semester. So on quarter break she’s going back to home, and as her parents had already gone to Florida, she invited me over for the weekend. We’d have the place to ourselves.

Still though, she has no idea. I almost felt bad about it.


Hazardous For Holly


“Holly, I’m doing this for your own good. I’m saving you. No, you don’t deserve it. It’s my gift I’m freely giving you. Isn’t that wonderful?”

“Mmmrf-mmm,” Holly, er, vocalizes.

“From now on, we have a rule. What happens here is between us. A secret. No one must know. Think of it as classified, understand? I don’t want any leaks, so to speak. Ok?”

“Erghhha-uhhh,” Holly mumbles.

“They wouldn’t understand anyway, would they, Holly?”




She’s in the shower. Hot. I walk over to her dorm room’s bathroom, pretend to knock, and walk in. She hears the door open.

“Hi, Holly. Um, I just got back from hockey and thought you might want company.”

She peeks her head out from behind the shower curtain. “What are you doing in here? Get out,” she says. “Just want an eyeful, huh?”

“Holly, you know I would never objectify you like that.” I smile. She laughs. “Ok, get out of here. I’ll see you later.”

We meet up later at the Quad.


I had invited her to watch some feminist speaker on campus. She totally bought it. I mean, I didn’t overplay it. I didn’t pretend to be like the super feminist ideal man, but I pretended to take it all seriously. She tells me how she spent the previous summer canvassing for Planned Parenthood and how her parents were academics; divorced at two different colleges. She liked silly music and I constantly teased her about how uncool she was. She took it all in good humor. We made out a couple of times and then hooked up in her dorm room after spending all night dancing at a club in the city. It was all hot and sweaty and hot. It was a bit awkward at first, but we hooked up again the next week. So it was all good, as far as she knew.


So afterwards we head over to the dive bar right off campus and get a beer. She’s talking about the speech but we both knew it was boring, so we just start shooting the breeze about various things, homework, tests, that sort of thing. She does tell me she’s going to some protest thing next weekend, off campus. Some babykiller thing with her pro-choice group. But we’re both basically exhausted from a full week of classes, so I tell her, “hey Holly I have an exam tomorrow at freaking nine a.m. I’ve got to go to sleep. See you tomorrow?”

“Sure,” she says. I give her a kiss on her forehead and take my leave.

“See ya, Holly.”

Addicted To Love (Arthur Baker Remix)Florence + The Machine


Holly In Harm’s Way

“Holly, Holly, Holly. What am I going to do with you?”

She screamed as well as she could, through the gag thing.

“No one can hear you, sweetie. It’s not going to work. You’re stuck.” I smiled. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you. Much.”



So anyway, Holly had told me she was a vegetarian, so no Proud Whopper from Burger King. But she was impressed with my support for marriage equality, so she agreed to go to a coffeeshop with me. We meet up the next afternoon, after her Women’s Studies class, and head over to the Starbucks. I spring for a fancy latte something or other and she tells me about herself. Good Lord, these women love to talk about themselves. As she was jibber-jabbering away, I couldn’t stop thinking of shutting her up when the time was right.

She was from Ohio and had come to the university to study Marketing with an emphasis on marketing to women. It’s a growing field, she kept saying. I didn’t tell her much about myself, just kept going with the little jokes. She laughed easily and smiled a lot. She sure was pretty too – the freckles, aww shucks she was cute as can be.

Well at some point I steal a kiss. She seemed a little surprised, but went with it. We just sort of peck each other’s lips and I tell her I’ll see her around. I text her a smiley face later. Bitches love smiley faces. Yeah, well, I know some other things bitches like. Especially bitches like her.

I have hockey practice in an hour, so I go back to my dorm to pick up my skates.


Helpless Holly

There she was, squirming like a squirly dog, all tied up, nowhere to go. So she’s laying on her side, hands taped behind her back, ankles tightly restrained with black electrical tape (I had to improvise) and her loud mouth full of her panties all secured with loops of that black electrical tape circling her head.

Fit to be tied or something.

“Ok, Holly. Are you comfortable?”

Holly replies, “Mmmmffggff!”

“Ok, Holly,” I say.


So it was my first semester on campus. I had only been allowed in this college due to my Heritage Foundation Scholarship for Students for Life, otherwise my grades were so poor otherwise I would have had to coast on the hockey thing. My years of pro-life activism and saving babies had prepared me for the liberal, leftist campus that I would be attending. I knew I would keep my Christian principles intact even with the temptations of the world.

Then I met Holly. This liberal, feminist, pro-choice activist. Oh I admit it, she was very attractive. Red haired, green eyed, umm … ample bosom. An amazing ass. Short, short tempered, the kind of gal that always needs a spanking, the harder the better. Oh yes, back in Bible College we learned how to deal with these devlish women. A strict regimen of Christian Domestic Discipline will strip these bitches of their feminist delusions. “Wives, submit to your husbands” is in the Bible, and if we have to spank them while making them read Bible verses, well, they were almost certainly asking for it.

Mandatory BDSM Reference

So I go up to Holly’s campus activist table, where she’s passing out some sort of babykiller pamplets, with a website “independentwomenforchoice.org” with a pagan symbol of some sort. I say, “Hi Holly, something something something” and gague her reaction. I pretend I’m a babykiller too, see if I can suss out some information before I report back to my radical pro-life cell at my Christian church.

Holly smiles, “oh yes, feminism is very welcoming to men and their issues! Here I have a handout about boys needing education!” Her eyes almost twinkle, and I fake a smile back. I swear, for one moment, she’s buying it. Little does she know what I am setting her up for.

So I say, “hey, Holly, it was really nice to meet you. Maybe you and I can go get a Proud Whopper at Burger King sometime?”