The Terribly Beautiful Life Of One Skin-visual Man

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The Terribly Beautiful Life Of One Skin-visual Man
The Terribly Beautiful Life Of One Skin-visual Man

Video: The Terribly Beautiful Life Of One Skin-visual Man

Video: The Terribly Beautiful Life Of One Skin-visual Man
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The terrifyingly beautiful life of one skin-visual man

The skin-visual boy is an amazing creation of nature, at first glance, contrary to common sense. A male creature is almost completely devoid of masculinity in its traditional sense: weak, vulnerable, fearful, defenseless, in general, neither one nor the other.

… She stood by the mirror and was tying a bow on her purple silk blouse.

- What will you do today, kitty?

A graceful white-skinned hand stuck out of the bed reluctantly, then a head with long hair like a girl's. The man stretched like a cat and yawned, his white-toothed mouth flashing in the morning sun:

- Well, for a start, I'll sleep well. It's just torture to get up so early …

He climbed out of bed, walked over to the mirror and hugged her from behind, managing to kiss her almost simultaneously on her carefully sunken cheek and on her earlobe, in which an intricate diamond earring glimmered. If he was not completely naked, they might seem like mother and son.

- I would still lie with you, Vladik, but today I need to be present at a government meeting … You cannot dismiss such an event.

She cast a critical look in the mirror. The mirror reflected a stately woman in her fifties in an expensive formal suit, with a stern look and skillful makeup. From somewhere because of the lush hairstyle peeped out the cute face of a 20-year-old handsome man, who admired her reflection in the mirror with sleepy eyes.

“Close your eyes,” she said in the tone of someone used to giving commands.

He obediently lowered his long eyelashes, resting his pretty head on her shoulder, softened by the oval shoulder pad of an official's jacket. She shook up a can of fixing hairspray and sprayed it over her hair, making him grimace at the pungent odor. He didn’t break his embrace, only closed his eyes tighter. She was terribly sleepy, but she was sentimental and loved to be escorted to the door, and therefore he endured: just a couple of minutes - and you can again dive into the world of soft pillows and fragrant silk sheets …

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The skin-visual boy is an amazing creation of nature, at first glance, contrary to common sense. A male creature is almost completely devoid of masculinity in its traditional sense: weak, vulnerable, fearful, defenseless, in general, neither one nor the other. He can walk in boys until old age, because hardly anyone will turn his tongue to call him a man. What kind of man is he, since he lacks the procreation instinct characteristic of the male genus, since he does not have a desire to reproduce and pass on his gene pool to future generations …

In primitive society, skin-visual boys did not appear often - apparently, as failures in the program of evolution or as a premature phenomenon of nature - and survived even less often: then their time had not yet come. However, it was this - by and large premature - experience of life among fellow tribesmen who were bursting with brute strength that turned out to be very emotionally saturated. And terrifying. Fears and an unworked life scenario push the skin-visual boys to social extremes, for example, such as homosexuality or transvestism … But more on that later.

The mass appearance of skin-visual boys and their mass survival began only in the middle of the last century - from a random "failure" they turn into a pattern. The cities were flooded with slender exalted young men with long or dyed hair, with earrings and piercings, with fashionable tattoos on their bodies, manicured and dressed like girls. For the girls around them, they often become girlfriends than lovers, and generally behave, to put it mildly, not like a man.

However, each coin has two sides, and the absence of a subconscious desire to reproduce gives the skin-visual boy amazing freedom in choosing a sexual partner. It lacks the conditioning inherent in the rest of the male humanity, which for the most part reacts to the partner's pheromones, subconsciously differentiating women (and even men) according to the simple principle "I want-I don't want". The skin-visual boy does not want anyone. In the sense - no one in particular. And when a dermal-visual male does not want anyone in particular, it means that he can have sex with anyone, without any restrictions.

His libido can choose absolutely any object. And this choice does not depend at all on the sexual attractiveness of this object, but on a host of other factors not directly related to sex. Such "rational sexuality" is difficult to understand, because it is something completely opposite to the animal type of attraction inherent in the rest of humanity. Anything can drag a skin-visual boy into bed, but not sexual desire - curiosity, emotional attachment, fear, search for protection, desire for novelty, prestige …

And of course, the calculation, where can I do without it.

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Lover

Surely someone would contemptuously call our hero a "gigolo" or a kept. But Vladik himself was far from thinking in such categories. He was just calm, satisfying and comfortable with his patroness, whom he jokingly called "the woman tank". That is exactly what he said when she came to the apartment rented for him, threw off an expensive fur coat right on the floor and fell exhausted on a large leather sofa: “I saw you in the news today, Marusya, you’re just a woman tank! How did you shave off this reporter! You are my iron lady!"

Vladik massaged her sleek legs with gentle long fingers, barely touching her calves, knees, hips with his soft lips, and the "iron Marusya" relaxed and melted, turning from a "tank woman" into just a woman.

This is what bribed her when she met Vladik. The fact that it is so easy and pleasant to feel like a woman with him. Not a boss, not a respectable lady, not an official, before whom all doors open, but just a woman who, like any other, wants tenderness, affection and … simple human communication. With what genuine interest he listened to her! How he empathized! How he knew how to soothe! How gentle and attentive he was! And that was only part of his talents …

Their paths crossed in the VIP hall of a Moscow railway station. Madame Deputy met an unofficial foreign delegation, the head of which categorically did not tolerate the planes. This cute phobia became an indirect reason for the pleasant changes in her personal life, and she later remembered the fearful European with a kind word more than once.

The driver brought her too early, and he and his assistant went to while away the time in the bar of the VIP lounge. A cute smiling waiter with an elegant neckerchief and a shiny pebble in her earlobe immediately caught her attention. The coffee he made was delicious and she complimented him. He complimented her hairstyle and elegant outfit in return. Word by word, a conversation ensued, during which he struck her with his amazing awareness of fashion trends in hairstyles and clothes, and even in what silhouettes are most advantageous to beat her very corpuscular figure.

Maria left him her business card, accompanying it with a request-order to call. He turned out to be an obedient boy and called. And a week later he became her lover and part-time personal … stylist.

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Stylist

Vladik loved everything beautiful. He was admired by the models on the catwalk, he loved to look at glossy magazines, he could hang out in front of the mirror for hours, looking at his own face and plucking the hairs out of the perfect eyebrow pattern. His influential patroness turned a blind eye to these weaknesses, because Vlad really had good taste. With his sensitive hand, she changed her hairstyle, eyebrow shape, makeup and began to look ten years younger. In any case, helpful deputies and assistants told her so. She took him with her to Europe a couple of times, trusting to choose new items from fashion houses for her. His choice invariably pleased her, although sometimes it surprised her.

In her powerful and caring hands, Vladik himself was transformed, turning from a cute bartender into a well-groomed and stylish secular handsome man. Several times he was assaulted by respectable aunts from the entourage of Madame the official, but she knew how to defend her own and did not let go of the "booty" from her claws.

It was worse when she noticed how young pretty girls were shooting their eyes in his direction - then her heart began to tingle with real jealousy. However, despite the fact that Vladik openly admired other people's beauties and often watched the long-legged upstarts with a glance, they did not arouse sexual interest in him. Maria felt this with some kind of inner woman's instinct, and it lulls her vigilance, although it seemed somewhat strange.

Not a single skin-visual boy can pass by what can be described with just one word - beauty. A developed personality will first of all admire works of art: the combination of colors on the canvases of the geniuses of the brush, melodic music and high poetry. Less developed by glossy magazines, the emasculated beauty of the cover girls and their defiantly fashionable thoughtful outfits. Perhaps the first will admire ballerinas and actresses, and the second - models and pop divas, but the essence of their interest will be the same: both subconsciously envy beautiful girls whom everyone admires, dress up in beautiful clothes, groom and cherish. And so the skin-visual boy wants to be as beautiful, as well-groomed, as well-groomed and desired by everyone … And it's not so important through what thorns the path to all this lies,after all, the more beauty around the skin-visual boy, the closer he is to his dream.

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Actor

Sometimes Vladik amused his influential mistress by meeting her dressed up in one of her toilets. Fooling around and laughing and pulling her into these mini house parties, although his dressing up gave her mixed feelings. When she first saw him in her evening red dress, tied at a narrow waist with a sparkling belt, in high-heeled shoes, with skillful makeup and whipped blond curls, she was at first confused, not recognizing her lover in the tall, gorgeous blonde. She was already drawing air into her lungs to hit her “rival” with a powerful sound wave, but she stopped, struck by a phrase uttered in a familiar falsetto with a hoarse voice: “Marusya, my kitty, don't you recognize me in this outfit, friend?”

The drawing was a success, they laughed for a long time, then drank champagne, then had delicious sex … Maria initially classified this story as a unique erotic adventure that is so nice to keep in a box of memories and sort through closer to old age. However, history began to repeat itself - and the "prank" turned from a funny joke into a whole series with disguises. In the script of the series, a subtle pattern was traced: more often than not, Vladik "pretended to be a woman" when he was experiencing some kind of stress. Madame the official laughed at first, then cursed, then waved her hand and concluded that for Vladik this is probably not the worst way to deal with stress, as opposed to "seizing" and "drinking".

The clue to the craving for dressing, inherent in so many visual-skin boys, lies in the sad experience of the very first generations of visual skin males. Unviable, weak and helpless, the skin-visual specimens were a burden to the primitive flock. Mammoths terrify them, women are not attracted, they are not adapted to work and defense … The only role in which they really brought benefit to the tribe was the role of food NZ. In other words, when the hunt was unsuccessful, they were used as food. As terrible as it sounds, but at the stage of primitive society, our ancestors were cannibals and ate their own kind. What can you do, hunger is a terrible thing, especially when a tender young creature is sitting in one of the caves, incapable of any useful activity.

Alas, the first dermal-visual males fell prey to ordinary hunger. Well, or rather, not quite usual, of course, rather brutal. But that's not the point. The bottom line is that their "mirror" reflection of the opposite sex - skin-visual girls - were much less likely to become victims of cannibalism. They had their own specific role - daytime guards of the pack. In addition, they often found themselves under the auspices of the leader, who experienced an increased attraction to skin-visual individuals. And the only chance to avoid the terrible fate of not being eaten for the skin-visual boy was … to pretend to be a girl. "The girl will not be touched", "if I am a girl, they will not eat me", "I will hide in a dress, and the cannibals will not find me" - about such strange promises whispered to the skin-visual male his most ancient fear,tossing and turning in his subconscious and forcing him to try on female images in moments of nervous tension. Vladik did not escape this fate. And, although his fascination with ladies' clothes did not develop into social behavior, stalled at the level of an intimate habit of putting on lingerie from time to time or walking around the house in dresses, nevertheless, sometimes he completely sincerely grieved that he was not born a girl.

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However, there was a lot of girly things in him. For example, often in the evenings they liked to watch together sentimental melodramas, which Vladik adored and even sniffled in the most sentimental places. A stern and determined social activist next to him relaxed and became a fluffy kitty, and she called him an obedient kitten. By the way, it was with these, in general, banal, words that they called each other, and a new page in Vladik's life was opened.

Party-goer

Once, out of nothing to do, he composed a simple song, which he sang to her, grimacing and portraying a pop star. The lady official liked the song. She hurried up, tugged at the necessary strings - and in a few weeks the song "Kitty" was performed from the big stage by one well-known singer. In the wake of the song's success, Vladik made friends with the singer's entourage and even became a part of the bohemian showbiz circles.

He did not become known to the general public, for he remained the author of one song - he could not come up with anything worthwhile anymore. And he did not strive. He liked the party itself and club life much more than the torment of creativity. Well, the most pleasant thing, of course, was to feel involved in the society of successful people, trendsetters, "celebrities" who are constantly on everyone's lips. Even among this bright secular assortment, he managed to be in the spotlight, gradually turning into a kind of fashionable prize that everyone wants to get.

The girls gazed at him, the adult aunts were openly flirting and every second woman wanted to take "cute Vladik" under her warm wing. He knew how to impress even the arrogant snob from high society: he kissed their hands, immediately identified the brand of perfume they were using, knew how to make a subtle compliment, "secretly" shared the latest gossip, peeped into the eyes like a puppy. Add all this to his sugary, sleek appearance and expensive outfit, which Madame official did not skimp on, and it will become clear why ladies eager for his attention and affection were constantly swirling around him. A couple of times he reluctantly slept with especially annoying fans, but none of them attracted him as a permanent girlfriend and there was no continuation.

And yet the day came when he left his patroness who dragged him out of the station bar into the glittering world of the beau monde. It happened after one unpleasant incident in a nightclub.

Fright victim

That evening, he was in a club with new friends - girls from one beginning musical group. They sat at a table and chatted merrily, discussing concert shoes. Vlad could talk about women's shoes for hours - this was his weakness, his passion, his strong point. The conversation turned jokingly about what kind of shoes Vlad is associated with each of the girls. He liked the idea with associations, and he happily picked it up, coyly rolling his eyes and smiling intriguingly:

- So, let's start with Larissa. Larissa looks like classic “pumps” of golden color, so neat, restrained, modest, out of fashion, but always stylish … Zhanna is aggressive military-style stocking shoes, with high heels and thick soles … Katya is the last squeak fashion, and also a lover of hearts. And so Katya is a Mary Jane Tribute from Yves Saint Laurent, with a 3cm platform and a heart-shaped cutout at the fingers. The color is, of course, red! Julia … Julia - these are crystal shoes from the fairy tale about Cinderella …

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Satisfied girls were laughing at his fantasies, when suddenly some drunk unshaven jock approached their table.

- Aren't there too many beautiful heifers for one dead morel? - the guy loomed threateningly over Vladik, covering him from the flashes of club lights.

- Who are you? What do you need? - Vladik's throat suddenly went dry and his heart beat like a hare.

- Right now, you will find out who I am, come on, if you are a man, - the guy grabbed Vlad by the collar and dragged him to the exit. The girls screamed, and Vlad was so scared that he only had enough strength to break free and shout: “Let go! Let go! Help someone!"

The jock almost dragged Vlad to the exit, when suddenly a large man in a black jacket rushed to cut him. A scuffle ensued, during which Vladik was accidentally hit. He flew away from someone's elbow blow, huddled under the table and watched in horror as these unfamiliar peasants thrashed each other. From fear, he began hyperventilating his lungs, he breathed quickly and quickly. In the end, the guards separated the fighting, the "pitching" was taken out, and a man in a jacket looked around the hall, noticed Vladik trembling under the table, held out his hand and said: "Come with me." Noticing the horror in the guy's eyes, he added: "Don't be afraid, I won't hurt you."

That night Vladik spent at Yakov's - that was the name of his new acquaintance. After a short discussion, they came to the conclusion that the guy who attacked Vlad was a jealous friend of some of his fans, because the good-natured handsome handsome was just a harmless party-goer and did not have time to make enemies. Nevertheless, just in case, they decided that it would be safer for him to "sit out" with Yakov.

The "imprisonment" ended with the fact that three days later Vlad arrived in a rented apartment, took his things and wrote a tearful note to the "tank woman" that he was leaving, but begged to forgive and that he would always remember her with love and warmth. The gentle "cat" chose a new patron for himself, one who could not only provide, but also really protect.

The high emotional amplitude of skin-visual boys is due to the influence of the visual vector, and in the widest range of emotions that a skin-visual boy is capable of, fear stands out completely. Both by the strength of the emotional intensity and by the volume: growing, fear can supplant all other emotions, filling all the emotional voids and lacks in the soul of the skin-visual boy. It is fear that often becomes the driving force in his life, which does not have predetermined scenarios.

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Another counter-driving force is the urge to run away from fear. It leads the skin-visual boy to a sincere desire to limit the animal (wild, bloodthirsty) principle in a person. He is against violence, he is against war, he is against murder and the death penalty; he is afraid of fights and uncontrolled aggression, even if they are not directed at him personally. And if he himself becomes the object of aggression and he has a feeling of danger to his life, then his fear reaches its climax, forcing him to seek protection and salvation by any means.

Often, protection and salvation come in the face of a big, muscular man who takes a weak and fearful skin-visual youth under his protection, giving him a sense of security in exchange for carnal love.

Gay boy

After the attack in the club, Vlad did not immediately bounce back. He constantly asked himself: "For what ?!" - and could not find an answer. All reflections ended with an abstract conclusion that there is too much evil and cruelty in the surrounding world. With this perspective, the relationship with Yakov seemed to him the ideal way out. Jacob was strong and athletic, which means that with him there was no need to be afraid of physical aggression. Yakov had good connections, and in no time he put Vlad as an assistant director in one fashionable TV show. Jacob was rude, but sentimental, he quickly became attached to Vlad and took care of him like the most exemplary family man, to the extent that he made him coffee in the morning. Vlad was flattered by this concern, and next to Jacob he felt like a million dollars.

Of course, in the first days of their intimacy, he had a certain fear of physical pain, but the experienced Jacob gently and skillfully seduced his cute friend, invariably accompanying his actions with anal jokes like "first it hurts, then it's cool." After a while, a new relationship became a habit for Vlad and did not cause any fear. In his own way, he became attached to the new patron, who was smarter, stronger and an order of magnitude more confident than himself and walked through life as a real master, to obey and please whom it was quite natural.

Moreover, next to Yakov, Vlad finally opened up and began to wear women's clothes openly at home, which amused and excited Yakov, and therefore was encouraged in every possible way. In general, "cutie Vlad" was completely satisfied with his new life.

Homosexual relationships often become a panacea for a skin-visual boy, tormented by fears and unable to find his place in life on his own. Deprived by evolution of the right to bite, next to the anal lover he indirectly joins this right, getting his "piece of the pie" from the muscular arms of his partner. And he is not tormented by doubts about whether he is on the right path and whether he is doing something unnatural: as long as he feels protected and his life is adjusted and settled, everything that happens to him is right, without any conditions or reservations.

Epilogue

A few months later, somewhere in the endless television corridors, Vlad ran into his "ex" - the "woman tank" Marusya. She proudly carried herself along the red carpet of the corridor, surrounded by some people, spectacular as always, in a strict suit with an elegant brooch, high hair and skillful make-up. Seeing Vlad, she slowed down and gestured casually to her entourage to move on. Vlad stopped, involuntarily admiring her thoughtful image a la "woman deputy."

“I heard you’ve become a fagot,” she snapped contemptuously when he caught up with her. In her casual tone, the resentment of the abandoned woman was too clearly read.

- Maroussia, rudeness does not suit such a gorgeous woman like you, - Vlad answered and bent down to kiss her hand.

“Call me,” she said faintly, leaning over to his ear.

… This time, too, he turned out to be an obedient boy.

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