The Echo Machine: How Right-Wing Extremism Created A Post-Truth America

***Explicit 18+*** "I've missed the warmth of your pussy, the feel of it. God Ginevra, you're so fucking perfect." I rasped and tightened my grip on her. I began rocking her against me ever so gently with parted lips. Her tight pussy very often gripping unto my dick, taking me hostage with each rock against me and a loud scream finally escaped from the back of my throat. *** The game of chess is one love cannot salvage. When the king and the queen come out to play, they have no other goal set before them if not going at each other's throat for the kill until a winner emerges. This is the game of the mafia, the game that'd never allow Love exist between two rivals. They want to love and care for each other but don't know how- all they've known all their lives is loyalty to their famiglia and name. What would happen when the only option becomes death?

When I was seven, my constant vomiting got so bad that my mother took me to court and accused me of being born dangerous. If the charge stuck, I would be stripped of my family ties and sent straight to prison. Everyone said my mother was overreacting. "He's just a kid. Kids get sick. As his mother, you should be more understanding." But the moment the evidence was shown, the room went dead quiet. My mother had drunk herself into a stomach bleed just to land a contract, and the second she got home, I threw up all over it. The deal was voided, and she lost her job on the spot. On my sister, Ophelia Sowle's, birthday, I threw up all over her cake right in front of all her classmates. After that, she was shunned by everyone at school. She spiraled into depression and even slashed her wrists. It didn't matter where I was, at the dinner table or under the covers. I could start vomiting at any moment. My mother and Ophelia had to clean me up more than 30 times a day. It wore them down to the breaking point. What infuriated them the most was that every time I finished throwing up, I would look at them and laugh, as if I was mocking them. The judge brought the gavel down and declared me guilty of being born bad. Ophelia's eyes turned red as she cried, saying she couldn't bear to lose me. I didn't cry or fight it. I accepted the verdict. But I requested that the judge watch my memories first. The judge looked stunned. "Memory extraction means drilling into your brain. The pain is unbearable. Are you sure?" I nodded without hesitation. But Ophelia suddenly panicked. "I don't agree!"

"Honey, it hurts …" Three years after getting married, Chelsey Jenson finally beds her husband, Lucas Yates.But even as he's above her, he's calling out his first love's name. "Shannon, I love you …"Lucas loses his sight for three years, and Chelsey cares for him without a complaint through the whole ordeal. What's the first thing he does upon regaining his sight? Seek out his first love.During an interview with the media, Chelsey announces, "Lucas Yates has erectile dysfunction and can't satisfy me in bed. I want a divorce!"The divorce becomes the talk of the town; everyone knows the handsome, rich, and powerful Lucas is useless in bed.Many years later, Lucas ends up chasing Chelsey all over the world. "Honey, I was wrong. Let's remarry!"Chelsey turns him down without hesitation. "I'm not interested in men with ED, so stay as far away from me as possible. Don't stop me from getting together with those young and fresh men!"

For the nymph, Zephyra Callahan, unwanted attention is nothing new. But the mutilated animal corpses left at her favorite hunting ground takes things to a whole other level. Tensions are already running high between local humans and the aberrations, supernatural creatures like Zephyra. When suspicion falls on a newly arrived pack of wolf-shifters, Zephyra pleads with her ex, Wildlife Office Brady Shaw, into letting her in on the investigation. Zephyra is in for more surprises. First, an unexpected attraction to Ethan, one of the pack, and second, an unexpected jealous streak in Brady a mile wide. Tensions continue to rise and Zephyra must decide how much she is willing to sacrifice for her community and the men in her life.

My wife’s new assistant recently celebrated his birthday, and she splurged on a villa as a gift to him. On the day he moved in, the assistant, Zachary Shaw, bragged on Instagram with a post and captioned: [Bagged myself a sugar mommy, just FYI.] My wife, Ivy Bennett, commented on the post: [Happy birthday, my dear Zacky! 🫰] The photo was Zachary wrapping his arm around my wife’s slender waist, looking incredibly intimate. The work group chat blew up at once. Everyone expressed their envy toward Zachary, singing his praises for being so promising at such a young age. Then, my childhood friend, Autumn Sinclair, tagged me in the group chat and teased, [Love is a blinding green light. Your wife’s cheating on you so hard it glows. Congrats, Julian!] I smiled wryly and stubbed out my cigarette. Slowly, I typed my reply, [Want a house, Autumn? I’ll get you one too, better than her gift to him.]

To get a superpower, I joined the survival game. But a small system glitch changed my mission in the Soul Trial from the universal “Survival” to… “Slay Sitri”. Sitri is the great prince of hell who reigns over sixty legions of demons. And his specialty? He creates love between two souls from thin air. When I first met that devil, he smirks with those fox eyes, taking pride in holding the hearts of all mortals in his hand. Me? I smile, too. Because I was born with alexithymia, meaning I’m a heartless sociopath that doesn’t feel any emotions. Nice to meet you, Mr Devil. I grin at him, licking my canine. How are you going to manipulate my heart, when I don’t have one?