Progress at Principia Chart

Judgernaught

Resumay

Homoerratic

Finally the issue of homosexual activity is explained.

“Okay so, why is it worse when two dudes or two chicks do it than it is when a chick and a dude do it?”

“When a chick and a dude do it, it makes a baby. When the other examples do it, they don’t make one.”

“But what if a chick and a dude don’t do it to make a baby. What if they do it for fun?”

“Then it is the same but it is still better but it is also worse.”

“I’m not sure that makes sense.”

“It’ll make sense when you are married with children.”

“One, I hate that show. Two, that’s crap. Three, I don’t want to be married with children.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way. I guess you aren’t the Spiritual person that we are.”

“I don’t think there is anything wrong with dealing with the actually issues relating to sexuality rather than simply grouping things into absolute statements!”

“We never use absolute statements. Only the Sith do that. We’re Jedi but we don’t need those mitochondria things.”

“Mitochlorians.”

“We don’t have either.”

“Like I was saying, loving responsible sex between unmarried gay or straight couples seems better than spiteful sex between irresponsible hetero married couples. Also, what’s the difference between a married hetero couple that adopts and a married homo couple that adopts?”

“The difference is that the later couple requires healing.”

“If this homophobic policy doesn’t change soon, I’m putting it up on fail blog. And I might even leave the part that used to say that if you try to change the policy you are gay.”

“What’s a blog? If that’s a sexual position or a kind of drug you’ve been doing you’d better watch out.”

Slippery Slope

Sarah was shocked, “What!? What do you mean girls do it, too? Do you do it!?”

“Kyeah!” Lucy was always quick to defend sex-positive feminism, “It feels good. I think most of us do it, or at least like half anyway.”

“Doesn’t it make you feel dirty?”

“Well, I guess it can be kind of annoying when I get so wet that…”

“Gross stop, stop, stop!”

“Usually, it just takes like a minute. Once you know what you’re doing.”

“But, are we even allowed to that?”

“Sarah, if they kicked everyone out who has ever masturbated, they’d have to close down the school because you and maybe like a couple dozen people would be the only one’s left including professors.”

“Really?”

“Look, I’ll send you a link to this Australian website and you can see how they do it then if you want you can try it out.”

“Wait, you mean like… pornography? That’s perverted, Lucy.”

“Shut up! Lot’s of girls… Besides, it isn’t like I watch it all the time.”

Sarah still thinks Lucy is a bit of a pervert.

– – – – – – – – –

“So, you really think he’ll want to do that? He won’t think it’s gross?”

“He’ll think it’s great.”

“What if he wants me to do it back?”

“I told you, do what you want.”

“Um, there’s one more thing. Yesterday, when I did it again, I (mumbly whisper). And then my arm went funny at the same time. Should I be worried?

“You can’t be serious? I can’t even do that, you did that your third time?”

“Well, If you count the third time as all day yesterday. I kind of skipped all my classes.”

“What have I done?…”

Weed’n’Womb

FiTech. It was becoming the next Enron and he, Patrick L. Curtis, was right in the center of it. And, there was no other place he would rather be. He was smart, an expert salesman, but more than anything, he was a compulsive liar. His Alma Mader had forged him into an impenetrable wall of deceit. He was like a perfect financial predator and FiTech was his savanna.

Of course he, Patrick L. Curtis, was correct. Over the next three years his office grew thirteen times. He was earning six figures at age 25. He had ascended through treachery and deceit and even now when he was no longer in a position where active manipulation was necessary, he carried on. But where did this all begin.

When he, Patrick L. Curtis of course, was an undergrad. He was surrounded by rules which few followed. The rules often did not have accessible, reasonable explanation. Some claimed to be in place for logistical purpose, others for the sake of achieving some lofty moral high ground. They included things like not having certain kinds of sex, especially not if you were a certain kind of person, not keeping company of the opposite sex late at night, even if you lived in your own apartment miles away, and of course there was no drinking allowed, not simply on campus, but anywhere, in life. More than half of the students and an unknown portion of faculty at least occasionally broke one or more of these rules. There were of course no provisions of protection for individuals who admitted their crimes against the institution outright, so all remained resolutely silent. Even despite this silence, it was obvious to all who had any sense that a majority was making a mockery of the institutions policies. At this point it was far easier to maintain the status quo than to revise the rules in such a way that it would either be realistically likely that they be followed or that if they were not it would be possible for people to openly address the issues related there-to. And so, everyone carried on well aware that they and likely everyone around them was chronically feigning innocence to any number of so-called misdeeds. There was a permanent, irreconcilable divide between public life and private behavior. Such a level of hypocrisy is little known outside of dictatorships and other such heavy handed institutions.

Patrick L. Curtis retired early, about 30 or so. He now runs a sort of bizarro safe house for current students at his Alma Mader. There gambling, drinking, smoking, sexual activity and all manner of riotous living can be performed behind the familiarity of facade, the CS Weed’n’Womb. Oddly enough, many of the individuals who are ardently opposed to breaking the rules prefer to interact with peers in this dark place where everything is done openly than back on campus where similar activity is hidden in plain sight. “At least here,” A freshman girl is recorded as saying, “I know I’m not being lied to by everyone around me.”

Neighborly

Kendra felt her lover stirring under the sheets. Jes was radiating heat. She was probably about to start her period. That meant Kendra would be soon to follow. She turned her thoughts from the hypothetical evolutionary advantages of such a contagion and tried to wake Jes slowly. The room was starting to change from blue glow of early morning to the warmer tones of the part of the morning that means Jes is about to miss class again. They were both bottomless. Last night’s athletic feats had left them both far to exhausted to dig for panties. Jes has a full bush but makes Kendra shave hers. Kendra leaned over Jes’s shoulder. Jes was wearing a thick thermal tank top, but Kendra could still see her nipples. Jes was breathing slowly whistling slightly as she exhaled. Kendra wrapped her arm around Jes’s soft torso and and nestled her nose into the nook under Jes’s jawbone. Jes smiled and arched, catlike. Jes rolled over to meet Kendra’s eyes. Jes put a limp hand on Kendra’s neck. It felt warm and soft. Kendra wrapped her leg around Jes’s torso and rolled on top of her.

Three firm thumps at the door sent Kendra tumbling over sideways. She barely managed to land feet first. Both women cursed as they scrambled to find clothes to cover up their groins with. Kendra found the sense to announce just a minute. She decided that it would be most expedient to hide Jes in her closet.

She found her Resident Councilor at the door. “Is there a boy here?” Mrs. Sorely jabbed. Kendra knew the only reason why she hadn’t simply barged in was because she had done so to other residents on so many other occasions that she came quite close to losing her RC position. Not all parents and professors are happy to here that student or child was successfully interrupted during a particularly  enthusiastic fit of masturbation.

“No,” Kendra replied confidently, “There is not a boy in my room.” Mrs. Sorely wasn’t convinced. She let herself in and started sniffing around.

“It smells odd in here.” Sorely mumbled. Apparently Mrs. Sorely had never smelled vaj before, thought Kendra, trying not to laugh. Mrs. Sorely was standing right in front of the closet now. She started to reach for the closet door.

Jackie, the tiny sophomore from down the hall called in from the doorway, “Mrs. Sorely, it looks like someone puked in the bathroom. Mrs. Sorely abruptly departed, allowing for Jes to fully dress and escape. She’d be late for class again.

Jakie smirked at her bemused neighbor, “Talia says that you’re welcome.”

Kendra’s expression changed, “I thought she stopped.”

premarital

premarital sex… this term is absurdly presumptuous. for all of the millions of people who do not plan to get married or at least not to their current partners, the term does not actually describe their sexual relations at all. can’t we just throw the term out completely. really, polarizing people in terms of married and unmarried is already pointless. particularly when so many married people end up getting married to so many people over the course of a lifetime anyway. sex isn’t responsible or irresponsible just because of a marriage license. heck, it isn’t like you need to take a responsible sex test to get one.

Silly Principia, Homophopia’s for Haters

Principia Trustees Read Letters and Petitions for Gay Rights