Tag Archives: espionage

The Other Reds

I learned it all from ANolen.com

http://www.unz.com/runz/american-pravda-alexander-cockburn-and-the-british-spies/

Once, he mentioned he was reading a book about the foreign spy network that had seized considerable control of the American political system just prior to our entry into WWII. “Oh,” I said, “you mean the Soviet Communist spy network?” I had recently become better aware of the volume of evidence revealed by Venona decrypts. “No,” he answered with a smile, “the other foreign spy network, the one run by Britain.”

He explained that British spies had played a massive hidden role in getting America involved in the Second World War despite the overwhelming opposition of the citizenry, and very possibly had murdered a top Republican Party official as they secretly gained political control of the GOP and its presidential nominating process. Being himself from a family of British Communist Party members, he found it quite amusing that rival networks of British spies and Communist spies had quietly competed or cooperated for control of our own national government during that era, even while the totally ignorant and oblivious American sheep grazed contently, emitting an occasional “Baa!” now and again, and never noticed that the direction of their flock periodically changed in seemingly inexplicable ways.

http://hipsterintelligenceagency.wordpress.com/

Criticize CIA on Reddit.com, Get Banned

CIA is less of an “intelligence agency” and more of a “political lobby.”

If you want “intelligence” – in the operational sense – you go to NSA or DIA.

If you want to influence the political process, you go to CIA.

It has been that way since the beginning, since OSS days.

brainwash-41

Forgetting Holly

Never.

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

happy-sub

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

easy-a-1

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Busting Holly

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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.

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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

ribbon-tied

Hurting Holly

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

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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.

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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

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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.

scared-woman-crying

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.

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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.

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The Life and Times of Hipster Racist

Comments, criticism, and hush money welcome.

hipsterracist@yahoo.com

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 13 14

Baltimore Stories

hooka-chicks

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5

The Slut Power

The Slut Power
The Slut Power

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5

Heartbreakers

Heartbreakers
Heartbreakers

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

Holly

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

The Tree Of The Knowledge Of Good And Evil

teen_love_by_thebestcabinboy

Part I: Jenny
Part II: Carrie

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

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