Another idea for a video or story: A small accessory and clothing store on the Jersey boardwalk where guys go in and they come out as complete generic, douchebag guidos.
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@greaser-vinny
Another idea for a video or story: A small accessory and clothing store on the Jersey boardwalk where guys go in and they come out as complete generic, douchebag guidos.
Guido Glow Up
Every guy leaves my barbershop a greaser, horny at the thought of getting all his bros to grease up too.
Australia on the attack
He keeps looking at you, knowing that you’re mesmerized by his set. Every time he flexes, he glances over at you, knowing that you’ll be worshipping those guns after. 💪🏼
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Forging Sterling: 23
Rowe saw Sterling as soon as he made it to the grinder, but the imposing drill sergeant waited for the teen to come to him. Sterling suspected he wanted him to arrive at his own execution. Heart hammering in his chest, the blonde got into position, falling into the best salute he could muster. Hawkins joined him, muttering under his breath. "Remember what I told you." Sterling gave the slightest nod. "Well, well, look who finally decided to show up." Rowe looked at the boy, a very eager smile on his face. "Glad you could make it, Cadet." He looked at Sterling eyes and saw the remains of tears, and his grin grew even wider. "Looks like someone had a good cry. Made you feel better?" "...No, Sergeant." Sterling answered, hating how his voice shook. It only encouraged Rowe. "Do we need to call Daddy for you, princess? Get him to kiss your booboo's?" The mockery was biting, and Sterling couldn't take it. He opened his mouth to fight back, but the anticipatory gleam in Rowe's eye--and more importantly, the reminder of Hawkins words-- kept him from doing so. So instead, he fought back his anger and simply said "No, Sergeant! That won't be necessary, Sir!" Rowe paused. "And why is that?" "There's no excuse, Sir!" "At least you got a lick of sense in that head of yours." The grin disappeared as Rowe got right into his face and yelled. "You think you can just skip my class and stroll back in like nothing happened!" Somehow, Sterling was able to avoid flinching. "No Sergeant." He responded quietly. Then he added, "Tell me the count." This did take Rowe by surprise, but he recovered quickly. "50." Then Sterling did something that surprised even him. "Permission to do 65, Sir!" Rowe's surprise lasted longer this time, and Sterling felt Hawkins's eyes twitch in his direction. "You trying to be cute with me, Boy?" "No Sergeant. But I did 60 on my first day. I know the rules now, so my punishment should be harsher." Sterling didn't know what he was doing or why, but he couldn't escape that this felt...right to him. Rowe laughed. It was unpleasant, but there was a gleam of something other than outright hostility and mockery when he looked at the teen. "Make it 70, kiss-ass. Hit the deck!" "Yes Sergeant!" Without hesitation, Sterling did. "Let's see if your noodle arms can back up your pretty mouth, boy. 1! 2! 3!...
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Forging Sterling: 15
By the time Sterling left the Commandment's office, breakfast was over. And he quickly learned Blackthorne was not a place that served snacks. his next meal would be in five hours with the rest of the squad. So he ended up in his next class starving and miserable. It was another physical education class; he missed classrooms. At least he could sleep in them(probably not the ones here, though.) The drill sergeant was only slightly less of a sadist than Rowe, yelling at Sterling for five minutes straight as he was forced to stand there and take it. Then he was sent off to run laps, because clearly his arms should not be alone in abject agony. At the moment though,he almost found himself relishing the discomfort. His burning lungs served as the perfect distraction, because every time he thought about this being his life for the next two years, he wanted to crawl into a fetal position and die. "Gotta admit pretty boy, I'm impressed." Hawkins fell into pace besides him. This was easy for the other teen; Sterling was stumbling and panting after half a lap, whereas Hawkins looked perfectly fine. A thin sheen of sweat was the only sign that he was feeling any exertion. "Pissing off two different drill sergeants your first day's gotta be some kind of record."
"Leave me alone, Hawkins, I'm not in the mood." Sterling took another breath. "Jameson is a monster." "You sign the paper?" Sterling looked at him, shock making its way onto his features. "You knew about that!? You could have warned me!" Hawkins smirked, not unkindly but still enough to piss Sterling off, who very much wanted someone to be mad at. "I've found you don't really listen to my advise." "You should have said something! He forced me to sign that stupid paper, now I'm not here for a month; I'm here for two years!" "He made you sign it?" "Yeah, he tricked me." "Not what I asked, pretty boy. He physically grabbed your hand and forced you to sign? Or forged it or something?" "Well, no, huff huff... But he tricked me. Told me it was a discharge form." "And you believed him." "Well, yeah. Why would he have reason to lie?"
Hawkins laughed. "Wow. You're naive. Maybe being here that long will be good for you; you stay out there in the real world and you'll lose daddy's billions in a week. You gotta read the fine print, rich boy." "I'm going to find a way out of here." Sterling didn't really believe that anymore, but he had to have hope to cling to. "I know a way." offered Hawkins. "Tell me. I'll do anything!" "Turn 18. Bam, there you go. Until then," Hawkins slapped him on the back, hard. "looks like you're stuck with us grunts for the next couple of years, rich boy." "Shut up Hawkins." Sterling was to exhausted to pout but made a valiant effort. He turned his head, focusing on the track in front of him, trying to ignore the burning in his legs, when he felt something slip into his hand. He looked down, finding it to be a protein bar. "What's this?"
"You missed breakfast, Breckenridge. Eat. It will make you slightly less miserable."
The smirk on Hawkins face was still there, but seemed lighter somehow. Sterling was still pissed, but in that moment he felt something he very rarely experienced: a tinge of gratitude.
"Thanks." Then he added, "I guess," trying not to seem to moved. The other teen just kept smirking and sped away, easily outpacing Sterling.
With a sigh, the heir unwrapped the bar and took a bite. It was bland, hard, and the most delicious thing he had ever tasted.
Forging Sterling: 12
The sun beat down on Sterling's back, having fully risen while he was on the ground. He wasn't cold anymore. He was on fire. Sweat poured down from his head, having long obstructed his vision and burning his eyes. And that was not the only substance the teen was dealing with; he had let out more than a little drool, and had come close to puking twice. It was perhaps a small mercy he had not eaten yet.
The worst part? He wasn't even half done.
With a cry of anguish, he pulled out 28 of the set. "Redo that one, Cadet! You were nowhere near the ground, and be very glad I'm only having you redo it instead of adding even more onto your set!" Heart sinking, Sterling forced out an affirmation. "Y-yes Sergeant."
"And you keep that back straight boy, no half assin!" "Yes, Sergeant!" Sterling said, tears now joining the other fluids leaking out of him. He knew arguing would only make this hell last longer. Though right now he couldn't ever imagine it ending. He didn't have a clock, but he knew he had been here for sometime; the other cadets had finished their laps and were now making their way through an obstacle course. It didn't help that Rowe would heap abuse at him the longer he rested, which discouraged Sterling from taking that long; he didn't want to have even more push ups added to the set. But even with this fear, he was lucky to get 2 or 3 done before he had to rest again, frantically attempting to catch his breath in as little time as possible. He made it to 35 before Rowe's attention was drawn to the others. "Fun as its been to babysit you, I need to supervise the rest of the squad, make sure they're not slacking off." Sterling was all too happy for this, because then he could slack off. "Cadet Hawkins! Get over here and keep Cadet Breckenridge honest!" "Yes Sir!" The other teen jogged up to Sterling, taking Rowe's place as the man walked away, barking orders to the others. "I don't su--suppose you'll be merciful?" Sterling asked, too much hope in his voice. Hope that deflated when Hawkins snorted. "No way, wouldn't be fair to the rest of the guys if I let you slack. Or you." "Believe me, I won't mind, gah!" "You will." Hawkins confident tone pissed him off. "Besides, Sarge isn't stupid. He'll know I let you slack and then I'll be right there beside you in the dirt again." Sterling felt a twinge of guilt. He dismissed it as his heart exploding. "Besides, I don't feel sorry for you," the other teen continued. "I told you to stand up straight. Even if you hadn't, he'd have given you twenty and moved on. But Sarge doesn't like to hear excuses. That pissed him off, and here you are." "It's...my...first...day!" Sterling pushed out another one. 40. "Sounds like an excuse to me, pretty boy." "Shut up Hawkins." The blonde decided he didn't like the other teen, not that he expected to.
"Save that energy for your set, pretty boy. Speaking of, those last two were half assed. Let's see you try them again." His tone was (barely) nicer than Rowe's, but the guy was definitely as much of a sadist. *** By the time Sterling finished, the rest of the squad had headed off to breakfast. Rowe insisted he finish his set first. By the time he did, he was pretty sure his arms would never stop burning. "Well, well. Looks like you actually learned a thing or two Cadet. I don't think we'll be having any problems tomorrow, will we?" Sterling laid on the ground, unmoving. "No Sergeant..."
"I didn't hear you." "No Sergeant!" "That's more like it. Dismissed. Get out of my sight." He said, walking off. It took Sterling five more minutes to get to his feet and stay there. His heart was pounding, his knees were shaking. He was in short, miserable. but he agreed very much with one thing Rowe had said. Sterling wouldn't be giving him any problems tomorrow. Because he was heading to the commander's office and raising whatever hell he had to to get out of here. There was no way he'd be here for a month of this.
If yous haven't been following this series, you need to get on that ASAP. Climate absolutely nails the breaking of a spoiled rich kid and fulfilment of being accepted by those he used to look down upon. Some of the best TF work to date!
Forging Sterling: 14
"I can't tell you what a relief it is that this is finally over," Sterling said, lying back in the chair and letting out an exhale of sheer relaxation. "So, when's the bus or whatever coming to take me back home?" "Let's see... when was your birthday again?" Sterling didn't really see why that was relevant, but answered anyway. "About a month back, Sir." "Thank you. So about... two years from now, absent a month." Sterling let out a laugh. It died when Jameson remained stone faced. "What?" Jameson leaned forward, gentleness entirely gone now. Even his voice rose. "Those papers you signed, Breckenridge? They weren't discharge; they were your enlistment. You agreed to remain at Blackthorne until you turn 18. Irreversibly; all we needed was your signature." "You... you tricked me!" "I did. You should have read the fine print. Really though, this is all your fault. Had you sucked it up you'd have been out of here in a month. Instead," Jameson smiled, "This is your home for the next two years." "No way. No. Way. My father will never allow this. We've had issues but he wouldn't ditch me here for two years!" "The same father that failed to even show up to bring you here? I believe he was out of the country, correct? The same father who failed to properly warn you of what this place was like?" His words hit Sterling like a series of punches, his hopes of rescue rapidly fading. "Let's also not forget that half the reason he talked about sending you here was to avoid scandal. Sure, he could fight the paperwork, but we have good lawyers. Do you think he wants to deal with the scandal of suing the military academy he sent his delinquent son to? You think that's good for Breckenridge Industries?" The Commandment let out a laugh. "Besides, we've got your signature. And people like your father? They want miracles. He'll be overjoyed when he gets the first letter from you taking about how much Blackthorne's changed your life and given you purpose. Daddy will shed a tear the first time he sees you in a uniform saluting; AI can do many wonderful things nowadays." Sterling began to cry. "Suck it up, Cadet. Speaking of, now that you've recommitted to your training, I believe its just about time for your next class. Why don't you head back out and find the rest of Squad C?" The teen rose to his feet without conscious thought, spirit utterly broken. "Oh and Cadet? I'll be sharing your thoughtful criticism with Sergeant Rowe. I'm sure he'll be very happy to take it into consideration when he sees you for drills. "Dismissed. Get the hell out of my sight."