#ffpr

OMG look fat chocobo ☺

In college, I was a member of Wilmington Paranormal Research, a paranormal investigation team in Wilmington, NC. I was their “Historian/Researcher.” Last April, we were scheduled to investigate an undisclosed historic fort near Wilmington. I had to work that night, but it would have been my last investigation before I graduated and moved to Atlanta so I was not going to miss it. Not to mention it was also the location of my very first paranormal investigation. I had come full circle so to speak. 

So, after my shift was over at work, I headed over to the fort. I would be meeting my team there a little late, but no big deal. 

Anyway, the fort is in the middle of nowhere, deep in the swamp surrounded by nothing but old historic plantations and mosquitoes. The best way to get there is to take a highway right off the interstate for about 15 miles, eventually the highway becomes just two lanes. Then, you take a left onto a bohunk country swamp backroad for another 10 miles, then you turn onto a short windy driveway that leads to the fort. 

As I am driving down that highway, it’s about 10:00 at night, the amount of traffic slowly diminishes as you drive out of the the suburban town attached to the interstate. Therefore, it was curious that there was still a set of headlights behind me as I was now well out of town. I thought, huh, I didn’t know anyone lived this far out here.

I just shrugged it off. Until they turned behind me onto the bohunk country swamp backroad... Thats weird, I thought I was the only one coming late tonight. All I could see in the dark were a pair of headlights following preeeeetty close behind me. Wait, I AM the only one supposed to come late tonight.

PANIC 

WHO. IS. THIS. ITS A MURDERER. DAMN ITS DARK OUT HERE. LIKE REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY DARK. YOU JUST WALK FIVE MINUTES INTO THE SWAMP THEY AINT NEVER GONNA FIND ME! IM GOING TO BE A LAW AND ORDER EPISODE. NO IM GONNA BE A BONES EPISODE BECAUSE IM GONNA BE BONES BEFORE THEY FIND MY ASS. OH GOD. THIS IS IT. Im saying all of this out loud in my car by myself by the way. I learned that when I am truly terrified, my voice gets suuuuper duper hight and my southern accent gets suuuuper think, which retrospectively I think is hilarious. I am also so scared that I’m speeding like a Duke running from the Law with a load of ‘Shine in my trunk. 

Ten miles later, this mystery car is still behind me. The thought did cross my mind that maybe, just maybe... its the police, we know that the police do rounds around this area at night, maybe its them thinking the same exact thing I am: that nobody should be here but me right now. 

I wasn’t about to count on it though. I figured if it was the cops and I ended up with a ticket, that was better than being murdered, raped, or worse expelled (Couldn’t resist). But, the road was too bumpy and windy to risk trying to call one of my fellow investigators to tell them what was going on and to have the gate open when I got there. I was worried I would wreck, and then what?

Just get to the fort. I thought. Just get to the parking lot and then you will be with the group. Safety in numbers! They wouldn’t dare try anything with that many people around right? 

I had a small stun gun in the door pocket of my driver side. When the fort closes, the security closes the gate and we lock it back when we leave, I decided that if the gate at the end of the driveway was closed, I’d have to use it. I hope with every fiber of my being that damn gate would be open. I’m not the praying type, but I was probably praying. 

I turned onto the driveway, the car turned behind me. The gate was locked. My heart sank.

This is it. I thought. I reached for the stunner. I’m gonna have to fight. Better square up girl. You ain’t going down without a fight. Get your screaming voice ready-

Blue lights. It was the god damn Sheriff’s department the whole time.  

HOLY SHIT YOU BASTARDS COULDN’T HAVE PULLED ME OVER 15 MILES AGO??????????

I’ve never felt so relieved to see police in my life. I pulled over and the officer asked for my ID. I gave it to him, explaining that I was doing a paranormal investigation at the fort that night and that I was late because of work. He asked me some routine questions and stayed with me until some of my team members came to unlock the door. 

It didn’t even cross my mind that these people could have been phony cops and raped and murdered me anyway. And, I definitely experienced some white privilege because I DEFINITELY should have gotten a major speeding ticket. But,I was a cute, scared, young, white girl just looking for some ghosts with her college club. If I was anyone else, they probably would have given me way more trouble. 

With a casual run (Boost XP, Boost Money, No Encounter unless I feel like it) it takes about 10 hours to get to the final boss of these games. I didn't 100% the games but if I ran across something I did explore if I felt like it, so like, just being a filthy casual.

FF I: 10:23

FF II: 11:10 (beaten first try)

FF III: 11:10 (beaten first try)

FF IV: 12:23

Weird how FF II and FF III ended up with the exact same time and I didn't even mean to do that.

Thing is, two of the game's Final Bosses kicked the shit out of me and two of the game's Final Bosses got the shit kicked out of them.

Final Fantasy 1 and 4 absolutely destroyed me the first try at the final boss. I'm not even under leveled either. Like, damn.

Final Fantasy 2 and 3's Final Boss got the shit kicked out of them by me.

Weird

I'm going to be playing FF V and VI next in the same way and seeing how their Final Bosses fair... I feel like 5 will be easy and 6 will kick the shit out of me. The freedom of character growth helps with making your characters broken strong... At least that's my theory so far.

Also Kefka is Kefka so like yeah that fight is a shit load of fuck if you aren't prepared.

It’s been too long since i posted a Face Fuck Practice Report. i got up early and got dressed for school. Today it was grey yoga pants, a college sweatshirt over white lace panties and a matching one of my vintage bras. i love/hate how they emphasize my obscene cow udders which makes me gush girl gooo and feel like a total whore. 

i think of them as udders now. The Men here have conditioned me to use that word. i stuff my udders into undersized bras so that tit flesh overspills the cups. it looks like i am in denial of my big my udderfs are. that i am too cheap to buy well fit clothes. i can tell how different guys talk to me when i dress this way how they cant help but stare cant help but picture themselves titty fucking me and slapping them. i edge picturing the professors in my classes clapping them and fucking them. i am the biggest girl in all my classes but one. Shes so confident. Not ashamed like me. 

i can hear my mother yelling at me for dressing like that which makes me gush. edging makes me need to feel this way need to feel like everyone's eyes are looking at my udders. She wouldnt hate the sweatshirt. She would hate the yoga pants. Proper ladys don't dress this way. They wewar dresses. They strive to be feminine. Dressing like the other girls makes me blend in even as it makes me feel like i am displaying myself as a cheap whore. The contradicting feels makes me gush girl goo. 

I feel all the anonymous men's effect on how i think and use words every day. i don't get wet, i gush girl goo. i don't have breasts i have fat cow udders. i don't have a sex, i have a cunt. my name isn't __ its Bouncy Fuck.

THe strangest part of my outfit in the heels i am wearing. Its part of one of my looks i've been working on. i felt so creative and wrong but i wasn't. Proper ladies wear heels. Sluts wear heels. I wear heals. I've always been a walking contradiction in my head. Now I feel like it in how i look. 

Mister Stern is the Dom i met here who has kindly encouraged me to practice face fucking. my first boyfriend dumped me for my best friend because i was so bad at sucking his cock. i thought the idea was gross. She didn't. Now they're married and very happy and i'm taking a large rubber cock with a suction cup and mounting it on a mirror so that i can work on being a better whore. i'm not girlfriend material anyway. Daddy made sure of that. 

Been ordered to do a Face Fucking Report right away. Tried to resist. Need to be focusing on my work. Edging and writing and refreshing my stats have taken up all of the space in my cluttered head. I don’t have any meetings so I am wearing one of my Daddy’s sports jerseys that I stole from his collection. For a long time I could smell him on it but it’s washed away and that makes me sad. In my head I fantasize that I am sleeping in his bed and I threw this on like lovers do because I am so FUCKING BROKEN and twisted.