Dear PlayerSupreme:
I just wanted to take a moment and thank you for the good your podcasts
have done for me. I came across your show at a peculiar time in my life,
just when I needed to hear exactly how to man up and take back control of
my world, and the change in me already has been remarkable. The situation
that led up to me seeking change is outright bizarre and, at least by my
standards, truly horrifying. I'd like to take a second and briefly
outline how I got to where I am, so you'll understand just what your show
has done for me.
To give you a bit of background on me, I'm a white 22-year-old art student
attending college in Georgia. I grew up in middle-class suburbia, with
all the horrible mental trappings of being a "nice guy" and an AFC such an
upbringing entails. I first began to clue in to the game around my 20th
birthday, when I realized simply being friendly and masking my sexuality
wasn't cutting it with the ladies, nor with the rest of my life in
general. I began to work hard to improve myself by working out, taking up
new hobbies, travelling, working my ass off to improve my artwork, etc.
Things really began to take shape right after my 21st birthday, when I
took up fashion, exercise, and sports in earnest, as well as becoming
increasingly more sociable. I've always been shy, but for the first time
my shyness started fading away. I began to become a man's man, forging
the life I wanted through blood and sweat, all the while having a blast.
I still had trouble approaching girls, though, and since my success with
women wasn't really cutting it, I simply stopped worrying about it for a
while, opting instead to focus only on all the other aspects of my life.
The wisdom of such a choice is debateable, but I stand by the fact that I
felt my life was in enough of a mess to warrant not having to deal with
women shit for a while, and it certainly worked. Yeah, I still fooled
around with girls, but for the most part I kept myself too busy to really
date or even meet up with women for coffee. My hiatus definitely helped,
though, because by the end of last year I was at the top of my game and
ready to seriously get back into meeting women. I had found a purpose in
life, my artwork, and felt truly confident in myself for the first time
ever. I was ready to take on the challenge of learning how to deal with
women.
And then I, an alpha in regards to his own life but still a definite AFC
when it came to women, made the horrible mistake of meeting a true freak
of a girl.
And it all went downhill from there.
I met this girl, Catherine, at a New Year's party. I had known of her
before, from when she had briefly dated one of my friends, Alan, late last
year. The story of how THEY met is something else entirely, but I'll
spare you that sordid tale, save for the simple fact that they first
hooked up at an anime/sci-fi convention, dated briefly, then became
friends. When I met Catherine, she was single and flirty, particularly
with me, and we hit it off remarkably. So much so that I had her back in
my room within a couple hours of meeting her, which I imagine will earn me
some Player Points, which should immediately be negated simply by the fact
that by the next morning we had both agreed to be in an exclusive
relationship. Stupid on my part, I know that now, but trust me, it gets
worse.
Our relationship continued on for four months. Even after everything, I'd
have to say it was still a pretty damn good relationship. We clicked very
nicely, with a lot of fun, and rarely a fight. I didn't be like I used
to, where I placated her at every turn. She went to a different school,
and I made her drive the two hours or so to see me. And she'd drive me
around town while she was here, too. I never took this for granted, and
we both appreciated each other greatly. Or I'd like to think so, at
least. The only real problem that arose was the fact that she would have
panic attacks from time to time, citing that some of my quirks reminded
her a bit of her ex-boyfriend who raped her. That should have been a
warning sign right there, so again stupid on me for either putting up with
her shit or not giving her the boot when it became a problem, which I felt
it never did but again I was an idiot two months ago due to a definite
lack of Player Supreme podcasts in my life at the time.
What should have tipped me off to her "freak" status is how sexual she
is. She's constantly horny, and never fails to mention sex in just about
any conversation. She's also an exhibitionist too, insisting the curtains
be open and even going so far as to have serious intentions of joining a
website centered around publishing sexual nude photographs. She is also
bisexual, which I took to be a fun trait to have but know now it can only
lead to dissatisfaction sexually when she's restricted to one partner. I
know now what to look for to see if a girl is a freak, but during the
relationship, everything was tits and roses between us as far as I knew.
Then things got sour. Early in May, while she was visiting me, she went
over to my friend Alan's house while I was hanging out with an old high
school buddy of mine. I know exactly what you're thinking, and you're
right, my friend; she did cheat on me. I didn't know why the hell she
would ever do that, given how much more secure in my life I was than Alan
was in his, but I know now that I was still acting a bit like a chump, and
thus boring, so while she's horrible for having done it, I was stupid for
having not been a man. Regardless, she tried to keep it from me, and
wound up having a panic attack and confessing, so I let her leave, in
mental shock that someone would ever do such a thing to a nice guy like
me. The next day, she came back, and we worked things out, tentatively.
We spent the next week and a half going back and forth between being in
love and being on the verge of breakup, mostly instigated by her sudden
need to be a single enough to fuck all the guys she felt she'd be
meeting. Finally, on May 12th, we both couldn't take it anymore, but she
dumped me before I could gather myself to do it, and I was heartbroken.
Yeah, I know, typical stuff so far, but this is where it gets terrifying.
Since we had the same friends, and some of them had graduated from college
this past semester, we had both been invited to the same graduation party
the next night, and we both felt we were civil enough to be in each
other's presence. What I failed to remember when agreeing with Catherine
that we could both safely attend this party was the nature of the
location. For starters, the man hosting the party was a very special
fellow. His nickname is Darling. He is a bisexual cross-dressing furry who
is also a member of the school's pagan association. His balls have touched
every object in his house, which led to Catherine and myself giving his
genitals the nickname "Raw Sewage," since they've been everywhere.
As an aside, just the other day his bra with synthetic breasts exploded in
the wash. That's the kind of man he is.
The house itself was just as peculiar. It had a basement full of sex toys.
And was named "The Jungle" due to all the raunchy sexual behavior that
happens at all the parties. And with all this, I still agreed to let
Catherine, my precious, sexually deviant, newly-single Catherine, attend.
I spent all of Saturday pumping myself up, trying to move on from the
whole thing. I'm my own man. She could no longer hurt me. The introduction
of an incredible amount of alcohol when I got to the party only steeled my
resolve. Didn't make her showing up go over any easier, though. I tried
to make conversation with her, to make myself feel better. She wasn't
really all that receptive.
She was, however, very receptive to this older shirtless guy and his
girlfriend, who began to feed her drinks. Lots of drinks. Tons of drinks.
She was even more receptive to them touching her, flirting with her, and
rubbing her.
By the time Alan finally showed up, another couple had wandered up to
Catherine and were touching her as well, so I grabbed the bastard and we
went outside to have a little talk. I "forgave" him as much as I could
bear, citing that he needs to get his shit together regarding other guys'
girls. When we came back in, Catherine, the shirtless guy, his
girlfriend, and the other couple were engaged in a five-way makeout
session. I was drained, so I stepped away to talk to some friends, catch
some air, and most of all, try not to let it get to me.
When I turned back around, she was up against the refridgerator. Her shirt
was ripped open. The other guy and the two girls were sucking about her
breasts. The shirtless guy had her pants around her ankles, and was
vigorously eating her out.
I must mention, at this point, that Catherine is a very loud girl.
Alan and I just stared on in horror as she screamed in absolute ecstasy.
Then Darling came up, said "hey kids, who wants to go upstairs?", and
within a moment Catherine was redressed and being led by the hand towards
the upper rooms. I looked at Alan.
He looked at me, and shrugged.
We followed.
I don't know if it was just to satisfy my curiosity. I don't know if it
was to look out for her safety. I don't know if, maybe deep down, I would
be getting some level of perverse pleasure out of seeing the woman who
cheated on me being demeaned so horribly. But I went, all the same. I
know what you're thinking, again, and yeah, right now I want nothing more
than to go back in time and kick my own ass for being so mentally affected
by her as to follow her, in a trance, straight into a ritualistic pagan
orgy.
Which, by the way, is exactly what I walked into.
I know you'd have enough sense to say "fuck the bitch" and walk away.
Hell, you'd probably done it a thousand times over by this point in the
story. That's why I've been listening to your podcasts, because it's just
such a different viewpoint than what I've grown up with. But you have to
understand, at that time, in my mindset, I was a very, very broken man.
Here I was, a man who'd fallen in love with a girl who really clicked with
him, now seeing her getting ridden like a show horse, eyes glistening with
tears of joy at the bounty of cock she'd suddenly be given. Imagine
you're hungry. Starving. Ravenous. You haven't eaten for weeks. And
suddenly, you're surrounded by your absolute most favorite, satisfying
food in the world. You could dive in it, roll around, soak in the generous
bounty, Scrooge McDuck style. That look on your face would be the exact
one she gave me in that room, and it BROKE me.
I could do nothing but sit down, to stop myself from passing out. I fell
into a deep trance, probably for my own mental protection, and bore
witness to the horrors presented before me. She even motioned for Alan to
join her, who gave a half-hearted look towards me for permission before
all too eagerly getting undressed and diving right in to the cthulian
dickpile. I nearly threw up so many times, but I just couldn't move. My
whole world was shattering.
Finally, it ended, and the room cleared out enough to give me safe passage
to the sex-free hallways of Darling's house. Before I could make it two
steps towards the door, however, one of the guys stood up and blew his
load all over the starting-to-get-dressed Catherine, missing me by mere
inches. If anything up 'til this point hadn't broken me, that certainly
did. I bolted out of there, stopping briefly to have a talk with
Catherine, something about tuna or blowfish or something, before getting
the fuck back home. I whistled all the way back to my room, probably
thinking that big changes were on the way for me, sad as the circumstances
may be.
The next day was, of course, Mother's Day, so I left college to go back
home. As soon as I get there, Catherine starts messaging me online,
telling me how sore she was, how guys from the orgy were asking her out,
blah blah oh by the way how was I holding up? Thankfully, over the course
of the day she came to her senses and realized it probably wasn't best for
me mentally to be talking to her, so she said we should probably stop. Of
course, two hours after we agreed to never speak again, she was back on
messaging me about how she was cutting herself because of what she did to
me.
Which turned out to be true, because the next day they hauled her off to
the mental institution.
Over the next few days, I talked with her about everything, I talked with
her mother about EVERYTHING, and I talked with all my friends about
everything except what had happened. When she got out, she found out I
had told her mother about all her adventures and became angry, so to
prevent my future homicide at the hands of her entourage of beta-male
fuckbuddies I drove over to her house, at her insistence, so we could talk
it over. Or attempted to, at least. En route, she had one of her
40-year-old friends call me up and threaten me, which led to me being so
shocked I wound up in a car accident, totalling my poor '91 Volvo. It
still ran enough to drive, though, so after getting my ticket for
"Following too closely" I started driving home, when Catherine called me
and told me to she still wanted to see me despite everything. So, like a
fool to his follies, I followed. Very, very stupid.
We talked, we sorted things out, and I left. We continued to talk for the
next few days, including what turned out to be an outing that felt
extremely like a pseudo-first date between us. I was adamant about never
getting back with her, but the attachment was still there, especially in
light of all the horrible things that had occured. Eventually, I finally
came to my senses and told her goodbye, but not without both of us having
a good panic attack at each other, leading her to call in that same
40-year-old friend of hers to chase me off. She hasn't contacted me much
since, except when I posted my whole story to a well-trafficed website
famous for its hilarious breakup stories (
http://www..com),
and she found out, which has led to me having death threats from having
the pagan association here on campus. Fun times.
Believe it or not, that's the BRIEF version of everything that happened.
Much, much more occured during the three weeks between her cheating on me
and me finally getting her out of my life, but I thought it best to just
give you the main bits. I have the whole thing typed up as a short story,
if you want to hear more about how this poor conditioned AFC got "taken to
the emotional cleaners," as you put it, by a freak girl.
I wrote all this out to illustrate how horrible of a situation I was in,
because it's thanks to your podcast that I'm reforming, and quickly. I
listened to all your shows I could get ahold of, before they had to be
taken down, and it's really clued me in to how I should have been acting
all along. I could see how incredibly stupid I was once I got away from
the situation, but I know now how to handle myself should anything even
remotely of this nature arise again. Your show has been a beacon of hope
and truth during a time in my life when pretty much anything goes. I've
already begun to start fitting into the player lifestyle, meeting up with
women who give me the eyes first, taking them home, not spending too much
time "dating," etc. It's really done much to put me back in the role of a
real man, back where I belong.
So again, thank you for an amazing show that's truly changed my life and
brought me into contact with the direction I should be headed in. Your
advice and words of wisdom could not have come at a better time.
Thank you,
*****
P.S. If you want to share this, I'd like to remain anonymous, if at all
possible. Honestly, I don't mind owning up to everything that's happened,
but I'd rather not have some intrepid internet detectives go looking up my
ex. I hope you can take something from all this, if only to further
illustrate why you should never fall in love with a freak.