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Thursday, December 18, 2014

Riverbeast Games Is Now Available On Amazon



Riverbeast Book 4, now available on Amazon at this link.

Riverbeast Games is now available on Amazon. Constance Harlee, princess of the river town of Euharlee, Missouri, has been reduced to a human pet, lower than a slave, by keelboat captain Bart Fink, who had a grudge against her father. As they travel down the mighty Mississippi, the riverboatmen find all sorts of fun, sexy games to play with their pet. She learns her role in the games, and how to play them well. She intends to seduce the men, to fool them, to trick them into making them treat her better. She poses prettily as she begs for table scraps, she But she will slowly learn, to her chagrin, that sometimes you play the game, and sometimes, the game plays you.

There are a lot of nice bits in Riverbeast Games: Constance has her face secured to the cock of a riverboatman named Big Jack Folsom by means of straps attached to her head harness and his belt, and then Belle the whore joins in on the action and suddenly Constance is the bound third party in a three-way between Jack and Belle, literally unable to keep her face out of their crotches. There's also a scene where the riverboatmen and the whores conspire to bring a helplessly bound Constance to the point of orgasm, and then denying. Finally there's a scene that's a bit of a nod to steampunk in which Belle brings out a brass device, a steampunk style "spreader" that Constance finds herself wearing, helplessly displayed to the men as Belle manipulates her body.

Along the way, a bound and naked Constance experiences the river in a way she never has before, not as background scenery while she plays her social games on a riverboat, but as a dangerous and unpredictable place where the only thing between disaster and safe arrival is the skill of the riverboat pilots.

I say, buy it and read it, dammit!

Riverbeast: Beneath Slavery Now Available Free


You can obtain Riverbeast Book 3 in mobi form for free or read it in HTML format by clicking on the pic above.

Riverbeast: Awakening is now available for free to anyone who wants to buy it. Amazon has "blocked" the book, their term for banning. I could in theory make changes and ask them to reconsider publishing it, but what I have learned from other Amazon erotica authors is that this would be a bad mistake. You might say, "This book is not at all different from the other three books in the series that you've already approved for publication" and the likely result would be that Amazon would ban all your other books. For example, one Amazon author in a situation similar to mine got a book banned. In an effort to be cooperative, she changed the book, as well as all the OTHER books in the series, and resubmitted them all (even though all of them but the one had already been approved. Result is ... you guess it ... all the books got banned.

In any event, the letter that Amazon sent me was incredibly vague and useless and told me nothing about why my book got banned. On re-reading the story it has content that could be interpreted as scat, having to do with the difficulties of wearing a buttplug tail that you can't remove yourself. I wrote what was intended to be a raunchy humor piece about one of the whores on the boat removing Contance's tail so she could relieve herself. Neither Constance nor the whore responded sexually to the result of the buttplug being removed, because it's not my kink and I don't care to explore it (it's not so much that is squicks me, but that human waste products are just gross to me, no sexual interest whatsoever and a certain amount of "ugh" there) but I can see how someone who enjoys scat might enjoy that scene.

The general conclusions of Amazon erotica authors is that if a book is banned the safest and smartest move is to forget about publishing it on Amazon, just move on to another book and publish it elsewhere, perhaps for free as a promotional piece. And I am publishing it for free, mostly so that readers of the series won't have a missing chapter. I'm not going to use it as a promotional piece too much, because the scat content is atypical of my stories. However, the "scat-related" scene is hardly the only scene in the story, and there's some pretty good (IMHO) writing to be found contrasting Constance's predicament with her life as a Boston socialite. So read it if you're curious. And enjoy!

Thursday, December 11, 2014

Riverbeast: Awakening Is Up And Running


Here, the Riverbeast gets a ride ... but mostly, she IS a ride!

Riverbeast: Awakening, the second in the "Riverbeast" series is now available on Amazon.

If you want to know the general background of the story, read the promo for "Riverbeast: Fink's Revenge" below.

"Awakening" deals with Constance's further reduction to riverbeasthood by Fink and his men and the whores Kind and Belle. Having a buttplug tail in her rear end makes life a lot harder for Constance, especially about an hour after mealtimes, and ESPECIALLY because she must beg the ruffians to remove it for her, her wrists being tied to her ankles. There's also a cleverly developed o-ring gag with a built-in plug to keep her mouth nice and available for whatever hi-jinks they have in mind for her mouth. She'll also get a well-deserved whipping after finding herself face to fanny with one of the whores on board the raft.

As the rivermen use her, making a game of it as they gamble to see who uses her next, Constance discovers long-repressed feelings surging forth, feelings of a distinctly sexual nature. Will the refined young woman of Boston society be transformed into a cock-guzzling, shameless bondage slut so low that she makes whores blush? Can Constance somehow maintain some semblance of self respect while tied up naked with a butt plug in her ass and a rowdy riverman's cock in her mouth? We'll never tell ... or rather, we will only tell in the pages of ... The Riverbeast!

Wednesday, December 3, 2014

Riverbeast: Fink's Revenge is Published



When rich girls get nasty, they get REALLY nasty!


"Riverbeast: Fink's Revenge," the first book of the Riverbeast series by yours truly has been published. You can buy it here.

"Riverbeast" is the story of Constance Harlee, the princess of Euharlee, Missouri, a small Mississippi riverfront town whose lifeblood is trading with the riverboatmen who carry goods up and down the Mississippi on their keelboats. Although born in Euharlee, Constance has spent most of her young life in finishing schools back east in Boston, consorting with the finest (and richest) people, learning the manners and making the connections to secure an advantageous marriage.

Constance's beauty and grace were also a great help to her in Boston. But they became a hindrance to her when she returned to Euharlee from boarding school, on the day she was kidnapped by the wild keelboaters of the Mississippi. These rivermen were among the toughest and most dangerous men in the Old West, men who braved the pirates and Indians who populated the river's wild shore to take their flatboats full of very stealable goods down to New Orleans.

Worse yet, Constance's captors have plans for her, plans for making her lower than the lowliest slave. The keelboaters plan to deny her humanity entirely and make her a Riverbeast, a naked slave, crawling before men, who must serve any man in any way that pleases him, on command.

Can Constance survive the torments of her captors as they teach her what it means to be the lowest kind of slave girl? Can she survive life on the mighty Mississippi in the days when it was wild and free? Can she manage to struggle back to the life she once knew, or something like it? Will she ever find love in her new and degraded state?
Riverbeast is an historical erotic romance novella, a classic piece of Western erotica set in the Old West days of the Mississippi River.

An Excerpt From Riverbeast: Fink's Revenge:


I do not know for how long I lay in the back of that wagon, watching the leaves and branches of trees speed past above me, groaning and crying out as I was jounced about, watching the pathetic bobbing of my companions' hooded heads as they tried to somehow protect themselves, hearing their muffled cries, and making my own muffled cries. It seemed to have been forever, but it could not have been long, because the path we had ridden was not far from the river at any point, and the river was our destination.

I discovered this when my feet were freed from the chain and I was unceremoniously hauled from the wagon and dumped on the ground beside it. I was half-dragged to a wagon wheel and my bound wrists were secured to one of the spokes of the wheel.
The spokes behind me were hard, as was the iron hub of the axle, but the ground beneath me was soft, for we were on a sandy spit of land that jutted out into a small tributary of the river. Behind us an embankment towered over us and the water, with trees growing right to its edge, casting us all in deep shade. The tributary made soft trickling and rilling sounds as it flowed past half-submerged rocks and fallen trees and branches, and the birds whistled and called in the trees above us.
My companions were also pulled from the wagon and laid on the sand before me.

Still unspeaking, one of the men turned to the one who seemed to be leading the group, and made a circle with the thumb and forefinger of one hand, then poked the forefinger of his other hand repeatedly through the circle, then pointed at my companions.

The leader shrugged, then nodded his approval. He singled out two members of the party by pointing at them, then pointed at the embankment. They nodded and climbed it. Guards, probably.

My blood froze in horror as the men drew their huge knives and approached my companions. I shrank as I prepared to see their throats slit.

Instead I saw the men use their knives to remove my companions' clothing without loosening their bonds in any way. They stripped off their skirts, petticoats, bodices, and panties until they all lay completely naked before their captors, save for their hoods and the ropes encircling their wrists and ankles. Muffled cries of protest came from beneath their hoods, and they struggled feebly, but bound as they were, to no avail.

One of the men who had gone off to the woods returned. He held in his hands several long stakes cut from saplings. The other men took the stakes and pounded them deep into the sand, not far from where I sat. Then they dragged their victims over to the stakes and secured them to the stakes, two of them on their backs, spreadeagled, and the third on her knees with her hooded face pressed into the damp sand, her wrists still bound behind her, feet secured wide apart by two stakes, ropes running from her throat to the stakes at her feet, so that she could not slide forward, forcing her rear end in the air.

She was, I believed, the one who had first proposed riding home with me. It was hard to tell, really, because in the garb of a proper young lady of the town, the only part of her that had really been visible had been her face, and here that was the only part of her that was covered. But I spied a familiar piece of blue satin print in the strips of cloth that lay scattered about her, that had once been her clothing. It was her.

Seeing her nicely rounded bottom and the pink curl of her cunny raised so flagrantly in the air aroused all sorts of feelings in me, which I had just as soon not felt. I'd no idea she was so sexually developed. Her friend who lay spreadeagled on the ground to my left had been a little more obvious -- no amount of clothing would conceal the naturally ample proportions of her bosom, and now both of her breasts sat exposed, her large nipples puckered and swelling in the damp air, the large mounds of her breasts lying apart on her chest, jiggling with her every tiniest movement.

And I would never have guessed at her other friends' full, ripe cunny, or the large clitoris that sat atop her swollen-looking nether lips.

And I would have paid dearly to have never found out about those things.

Thursday, November 20, 2014

President Slave Girl: Billionaire's Toy -- Book 2 of The Homouth Series Is Out


Possibly one of my best stories evah!

You can get President Slave Girl: Billionaire's Toy here at Amazon.com for the US or here at Amazon.com for the UK. The book is in fact available worldwide, so you people in India ... get cracking! I've got my eye on you!

And if you haven't read The Homouth Book 1, well hie thee hence!

Book 2 of the Homouth is where I REALLY got to write some fun scenes. After MacCammon is released she is forced to resort to unnatural, disgusting (to a prude) sexual practices in order to get the homouth removed. Poor Eileen! Especially the scene where former President MacCammon is raped senseless while bound by the lesbian daughter of a well-known politician, who ALSO has a homouth and is pretty fucking annoyed at having to hide her true feelings to stay in her father's conservative circles. And the scenes where a One Percenter who has been a huge donor to her party's campaigns lets MacCammon know what he REALLY thinks of her, with his cock jammed down her homouth and her chained and helpless the whole time. And the scene where a bordello owner demonstrates to her what it's like to be audited by the IRS (hint: no lube is involved) before turning her out to be a slave slut in his bordello. And the introduction of Talena the trainer and the dramatic escape attempt ... so MUCH FUN!

I think I'm really on to something in this story. The combination of current social issue, a huge comeuppance story, and tons of sex slavery and sexual bondage and dominance REALLY works together well.

I couldn't say ANY of this in my Amazon descriptions of the story, they've got a bunch of crazy-ass rules about stories and how you can promote them, but damn, I'm grooving on Book 2 of the Homouth, I feel like I've struck gold, authorially speaking. Get it while it's hot .. because there's EVEN MORE goodie to come in future additions to this story.

An Excerpt from President Slavegirl: Billionaire's Toy

Eileen's heart hammered as she looked at her visitor. She had been fantasizing about this moment for the last several days, almost constantly. And with a hideous, obscene eagerness and urgency. It was very clear that her new and improved libido was fully functioning. She had awakened in the morning both sticky and sweaty, and it wasn't the seaside air that made it so. She had to take a long shower to get the funk off, but it did relatively little good, because the glimpses she got of her own naked flesh, and more importantly, the feel of it as she washed it, turned her on tremendously.
Eileen could hardly stand her own eagerness as Giuterrez's procedure-doer strode into the room. He was a handsome young man in his 20s, of average height but with a really nice build and a pleasant, casual demeanor. Dark brown hair, strong jaw, sparkling blue eyes, a sensuous mouth that also tended to smile. He made a really great first impression.
"Hi, I'm Paul Atreides," he said, offering his hands for a shake. "Dr. Giuterrez sent me."
Eileen extended her hand to shake Atreides'. Firm grip, manicured nails. She had been half fearing some grubby lout would show.
"I hope you will accept this token of my respect," said Atreides, extending his hand. In it rested a tiny jeweled watch on a chain. It was not an expensive piece, but it was good looking. It was the sort of thing you could wear casually almost anywhere, though it was too inexpensive for any kind of formal occasion.
Not that this was a formal occasion. Eileen was uncomfortably aware that she had an almost irresistible urge to reach out and stroke Atreides. He was so attractive, so male, and she was so, so, needy.
Eileen smiled with her eyes and accepted the gift. She gestured to Atreides to follow her and went to the writing table that sat against the window.
"Thank you for the gift," she wrote. "It is lovely, and I appreciate the spirit that led you to give it to me. But I hope you will not think me forward -- did Dr. Giuterrez tell you exactly what my problem is?"
"He said that bad people put a homouth on you," said Atreides, "one that you could only get rid of by performing acts of sexual bondage with a man. Is that true?"
Eileen nodded, blushing slightly.
"Then you have my sympathy," said Atreides. "I will be very happy to help you in any way I can. And I believe I can help you. I am quite experienced at sexual bondage. I have brought many women great pleasure while in bondage. Of course, this has always been with women who were engaging in bondage because they wished to explore it for their pleasure. I understand that is not the case with you. So you may not have such pleasure as others might -- but I think I can make this as painless as possible, under the circumstances."
Eileen nodded thankfully. It was what she had hoped for, really. There was no prospect of anything really good coming from this union of their bodies. The best she could hope for was a quick end to the business with her mouth restored to her face.
(Why, then, was she trembling so? Why did her heart beat so hard? Why was she almost unable to look Atreides in the eye? What was she so afraid of what he might see in her eyes?)
"Before we begin, are there any other rules I must know of?" Atreides asked.
"Yes," Eileen nodded. She had thought about this and had prepared. She handed a note to Atreides. The note said:
“I must be bound. They definitely said my hands must be bound behind my back or to some object that rendered them useless, and me helpless. Ties they suggested were hands behind back, wrists to ankles, wrists to thighs with ankles bound apart or together, hogtie, spreadeagle, half spreadeagle and probably a few others I missed.
I must be penetrated by a man's cock, orally, anally or vaginally while bound. I think it would be a good idea if I were to have an orgasm, but I'm not sure that it's necessary.
If I am not being penetrated orally, I must be gagged while being penetrated elsewhere. The gag must be a penetrative sort of gag -- a ball gag, or a dildo or vibrator held in place with a rope or straps. They were very firm on that point. The thing that gags me must be secured in place, you just can't stuff something in my mouth.
That's all there is to it. My only request is that you not hurt me as you do it. There are many yards of half inch cotton twine and some suitable gagging materials in the upper left hand bureau drawers at the foot of the bed. Please, take me and do as you will, it is so much easier for me if I don't have to ask.”
"I understand," said Atreides as he finished reading the note. Eileen, with her politician's well-developed sense of people's real feelings, knew he was lying. He probably thought all of this was an elaborate charade devised for the sake of her fantasies.
This was exactly what Atreides thought. A rich woman, unable to take responsibility for her own sexual urges. She had even talked Giuterrez into believing it. Oh, well, it did not matter. Atreides could take care of her needs. He could go along with it, he had gone along with much wilder fantasies.
"With your homouth, we'll need a safe-signal," said Atreides.
Eileen looked at Atreides inquiringly.
"Yes, if anything that is going on disturbs you or hurts you in any way, you need a signal to let me know about it so we can stop," said Atreides. "If you could speak, we'd have a safeword, but many women who enjoy bondage fantasies like to be gagged as well, and some have homouths, so safe signs are not at all rare. Perhaps you should flip me a bird if you have a problem. Or make three high-pitched squeals, very fast, in a row. You do not make such sounds while in the throes of passion, do you?"
Eileen blushed and shook her head "No," vaguely offended that she had even been asked the question. She did not have throes of passion.
What made it even worse, somehow, were the intense sexual feelings that now filled her, feelings she did not want to acknowledge. She did not know what her voice would have sounded like if she had a mouth. She found it a comfort, in a way, that all she had to do was look at Atreides and do as he said.
"OK, just to make sure we are clear on this, I want you to give the signals," said Atreides. "Flip the bird at me and squeal three times, very high pitches, very fast."
Eileen flipped Atreides the bird and let forth with three very fast, very high pitched squeals that mostly came through her nose.
"OK, if at any time you feel a need to stop the proceedings, you flip me the bird and squeal that squeal, and we'll stop whatever we're doing and take care of whatever the problem is. Understand?"
Eileen nodded her understanding. She knew she would not give the signals. After what she'd been through at the hands of the Sisters of Mercy, there was nothing this nice young man could do to make her uncomfortable enough to give the sign, when getting her mouth back was involved.
"Now, take off all your clothes," Atreides ordered.
It was as simple as that, Eileen realized. The order. She had to do it. And she really, really wanted to do it.
She began unbuttoning her blouse.
"Slowly, erotically," Atreides ordered. He was slowly, carefully, establishing a dominant tone with her. He knew just how to slide into her fantasies.
Eileen did not quite know how to undress erotically, since she had never done it in her life. In fact, had never tried to do anything erotically in her life. Even from childhood, she had been very proper, experiencing puberty only as a series of embarrassing assaults upon her sense of propriety. Raised by pious parents and strongly influenced by fourth wave feminists who had  incorporated religion into their feminism, she had experienced puberty not as growth but as an invasion of her selfhood by an alien sexuality. In a sense, the things that her enemies had done to her with the homouth had been just an extension of puberty.
Now she was ordered to behave erotically by a man who could restore her mouth to her face, and so she tried. She undressed slowly. She made subtle lifting movements with her hands as she removed garments. She wiggled her hips a little. But the underlying sense of desire that filled her did not inform her movements in any way, and so her movements were stiff, unnatural, and not at all erotic. A lifetime of repressing erotic feelings did not vanish just because she wore a homouth on her face and had enough sex hormones circulating in her body to turn Rhode Island into the sexual equivalent of a smoking crater.
What the hormones did was crank up the intensity of her emotions. She could not believe how fiercely she desired to be taken. She would have cried, fallen on the bed sobbing, if Atreides had declared himself unable to go through with it and left the room, and not just because it would have meant not getting rid of the homouth. Her sobs would have been sheer disappointment at not having sex.

Tuesday, November 4, 2014

Shameless Outlaws: A Fun Parody of Second Life Gor


Head straight to Amazon and buy "Shameless Outlaws" at this link or take the risk that for the rest of your like you will wish you had bought this book before everyone else did!

"Shameless Outlaws" by me, Pat Powers, is my first-ever actually-classified-as-such-by-Amazon romance novel, and I'm not sure how I feel about that. It's the story of Markus of Lothar, a world a lot like Second Life Gor. Markus is the semi-brave leader of a semi-bold band of outlaws, The Shameless Outlaws, and Silky is his slavegirl. They live in a world of constant raiding an fighting using weapons that don't kill but just render opponents unconscious if hit often enough. The weapons are technologically advanced but they look and work like bows and swords ... sort of like video game weaponry. When people are defeated in battle they enter the "Red Bubble of Unconsciousness."

Slinky is the former matriarch of a clan of cougar women, wild women who prowl the trackless forests of Lothar, fighting constantly with one another, kidnapping and using men sexually, and also having lots and lots of lesbian sex. Yet Slinky is inexplicably delighted with Markus and glad to be his slave. She's his big stupid stallion and she loves being ridden by him. There is much fun, consensual slavegirl sex to be had here, and it is had!

In short, this is a total parody of SL Gor, and the Gor novels, presenting a kinky video game as if it were an erotic romance. It was tremendous fun to write, I hope it is tremendous fun to read. So buy it and find out, or borrow it if you're on Kindle Unlimited, for nothing! Now that's a deal!

Wednesday, October 8, 2014

The Homouth Part 1: First Book In New Series By Pat Powers


"Is that a vagina where your mouth should be or are you just REAL glad to see me?"

You can find The Homouth on sale at Amazon here.

The latest in my collection of incredibly great stories to be published on Amazon is up. "The Homouth" the story of Eileen MacCammon, President of the United State, a strong, morally conservative woman who, on ascending the the Presidency, follows through on her campaign promise to wipe out sexual moral degeneracy in an America beset by economic woes. She imprisons hundreds of thousands of prostitutes, strippers and even erotica writers in her drive to bring moral purity to America. Then she goes a step further and begins imprisoning the clients of prostitutes, the fans of strippers, the viewers of erotica and the readers of erotica, by the millions, often bypassing the Constitutional protections of citizens on very flimsy pretexts.

The tables turn in the next election,when she and her party are swept out of power by a tidal wave of voters who are essentially voting to keep themselves out of jail.

For her crimes as President, MacCammon is given no jail time, but a new kind of sentence: she is stripped of all her Constitutional rights except her right to life. She walks out of the courtroom legally able to be kidnapped and used in any way her kidnappers like, so long as they do not kill her or permanently maim her.
She is soon kidnapped by her enemies, who subject her to quite a few torments, torments of the exact sort often seen in the erotica she has so vigorously suppressed.

But perhaps worst of all, her enemies use nanotechnology to place a homouth on her, transforming her mouth into a vagina. It's a technology widely used by sex workers, but they have the ability to control it, reverting to a normal mouth at will. MacCammon can only revert to a normal mouth by performing acts that she would have described as disgusting and vulgar before she had the homouth on her and found her power of speech reduced to making disgusting slucking sounds.

MacCammon's captors release her, but she soon finds that in her new, rights-free state she is in essence a fugitive slave, and eventually, a slavegirl, sold and resold by people who hate her and want to abuse her, and by those who simply want to use her.

And everyone, she finds, has a use for a former President of the United States who is now a rightless slave and who wears … the Homouth!

An Excerpt From The Homouth Part 1


She fought the evil women as hard as she could, but they were everywhere, all around her. Their hands went everywhere, to places she would never have put her hand, and twisted and tickled and slapped and pinched and poked and pulled and stroked and rubbed and she was helpless, helpless against them.

She had tried kicking with her legs, but they simply pulled her legs apart and wrapped leather cuffs around them at the ankle, and suddenly she was displayed as she was on an ob-gyn table.

They said horrible, nasty, revolting things about her body even as they probed and pried at it. They laughed at her while tears streamed down her face. She tried to cry out, but only disgusting slucking sounds would issue from the thing her mouth had become. She cried and her sobs were just more slucking sounds.

Worst of all, some of the women put their hands in her homouth, and probed and prodded the soft tissues there, and she could smell her own arousal on their fingers as they did. Of course, there were fingers Down There, in both places Down There, and on her nipples, and her thighs, and on every part of her.

Soon she felt her body responding with waves of overwhelming pleasure to the fingers inside her and on her, and despite the fact that she hated hated hated the women who were doing this thing to her, her back began to arch and her legs began to convulse, and she cried out into the sea of glittering eyes and pneumatic breasts above her, sent forth loud disgusting noises around the fingers that filled her homouth because she was coming coming they were making her come and they hated her and did not love her but they knew her body knew it and controlled it and when she came it was like the orgasms had been pulled out of her by the hands all around her.

Amazingly, they did not stop when she came, though she splorted a thick stream of liquid from her face that oozed down her chin and puddled in the hollow formed by her clavicle. They just kept touching her and mocking her and probing her and soon she was being overwhelmed by feelings again. And she realized that they were taking turns using her, that there were that many women here who wanted to hurt her in this way.

She did not understand. Her whole Presidency had been about protecting women. She had been women's savior, their friend, their rescuer from the vile, immoral corruption that society had become. Some few hundreds of thousands, of women had been put in jail for their deep immorality. Some few millions had lost husbands or fathers to her jails as well. But she could not believe such creatures could love their family and friends the way decent women like herself did.

Why had they done it? Why had the people and the courts let her be taken by these, her enemies, to be used so cruelly? She had done hard things, difficult things, some would say cruel things, but her goal had always been the protection and advancement of women. Surely they could see that. Surely ... oh god. One of them had put her whole fist up Eileen's ass. She cried out in surprise and pain and they all cheered to hear the startled sluck that came out of her homouth.

This went on for some time she could not determine. Hours, at least. Perhaps a day. She became exhausted and could not resist them any longer, and not even the firmest slap or the most excruciating pinch in the most excruciating place would get a response from her.

So they dragged her to her cell, and chained her to the floor spreadeagled, and hosed her off, and then let her sleep, for she passed out as soon as the water stopped hitting her.

The next day, things got worse.


"Surely ... oh god! One of them had put her whole fist up Eileen's ass."
An image that might have come directly from the Homouth Part 1. Actually, it's from WhippedAss.com.