Frequently Answered Questions
(and Stuff)

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Frequently Answered Questions:


(1) Are you really a girl? Yes.

(2) Do you really have sex with dogs? Yes.

(3) How do you write so well? I sold my soul.

(4) Why do you write so badly? I only wanted U2 tickets. (I was young)

(5) Have you ever kicked a guy in the balls? Only by accident.

(6) Send me pictures of yourself! No.

(7) What's the subject of your doctoral thesis and where can I read it? That's a little too personal for comfort.

(8) Are you bisexual/lesbian/straight/etc? Pretty straight mostly.

(9) Can you help me with a story I'm writing? Probably not.

(10) Did you write this story - INSERT TITLE HERE? Maybe, but I doubt it.

There are a bunch of other questions, but those are the ones I get most for some reason. I'm not in the habit of defending my answers when the reasons are obvious, so...if you're looking for the how of why, just make it up and I'll play along.

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Of course, being the smallest country in the world (all 44 hectares of it) property value in Vatican City is the highest on earth! I suppose having interior decorators like Michelangelo, Rafael, and Fiorentino doesn't hurt either. So, in order to make rent Rachael Ross Archives has opened the finest escort service in all of Christendom! We employ only the most attractive and outgoing nuns ranging from naive teenage Acolytes to experienced Mother Superiors, and all of them are dedicated to providing our generous customers with quality personalized service.

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Meet the staff of Rachael Ross Archives

 

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Rachael Ross
Editor-in-Chief; Publisher; Ghost in the Machine

Name: Rachael Ross    Birthday: July 27 1982    Hometown: Minnesota/Seattle
Sex:
F    Height/Weight: Proportional    Favorite Drink: Rum and Coke
Race:
Amerasian    Status: Married/No Kids    Residence: Asia    Religion: Catholic
Education:
Ph.D. (Social Anthropology)    Occupation: Logistics Coordinator 
Hobby's:
Writing, Singing, Photography, Tanning, Talking, etc.
Interests:
Everything pretty much, but mostly religion, history, human behavior, cosmology, etc.

There's not much else to know really. I'm just a girl and pretty normal and I'm not gonna talk about my Favorite Sexual Position: Doggy! or any of that.

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Evil Little Sister
Lifestyles Editor; Leader of the Sexual Jihad

She gets all the crazy ideas and when I do something bad, I always blame my Evil Little Sister. Nobody believes me, but still...Somebody has to take the blame and around the offices, that's her biggest job. She's the author of such stories as Nymphette, Black Sheep, Pissie, and My Strange Life and if anyone is waiting for ELS to apologize for those, don't hold your breath. She's completely unrepentant, believe me.

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T.S.Severe
Fashion Editor; V.P. Public Relations; Head Receptionist

I want to be a boy sometimes, but I don't really know how to do it. Luckily for me, God didn't short me in the imagination department. If creativity was tits, I'd be wearing a 36HHH instead of a humble 32B and I suppose I'm lucky that way. Thanks God!

Anyway, T.S.Severe is a juvenile dedicated to romance, the way most teenage girls are, and it's seriously doubtful she'll ever grow out of it. I've tried many times with stories like Dominant Black Transsexual Cheerleaders, but somehow she always manages to take a perfectly good misogynist shemale story and turn it into a Harlequin Romance. The big question, naturally, is whether or not T.S. is really a boy or a girl and I have no idea. Sometimes I think she must have a little dick in her panties, but then again, she's me and I've checked on several occasions. I've even had other people check and I always end up on my back for some reason...Uh, never mind.

Let me just say that I like transgender people and sometimes wish I was a boy just so I could be a girl, but it probably wouldn't be as much fun as the fantasy.
 

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Kylie X.
Intern; Chief Finance Officer; Donuts 'n Coffee Girl

You know, when I first decided to enter the world of mainstream porn I noticed that 99% of all the interracial stories were black guys cuckolding white men. That just didn't seem very fair to me and one day I decided to do something about it.

That's how Kylie X. popped into my head and she's a horny black girl who loves white cock. I borrowed her bubbly personality from a friend of mine back in college, a black girl who had the most amazing outlook on life. She was such a complete optimist and I try to be, so when I slip into Kylie and start writing something like Plan C or Chocolate Cream Pie, it's like taking a vacation to someplace warm and wonderful and smelling like fresh cookies. I really like her a lot.

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rache
Sports Editor; Rants Editor; V.P. Human Resources

rache is the real me taken to its logical conclusion. Cynical, witty, sexy, smart, and almost always totally wrong. When she opens her mouth, I invariably end up apologizing for it. She's evil too and not in the good way like Evil Little Sister, but in the sort of way that leads to people walking into crowded places with automatic weapons and C-4 strapped to their bodies.

She's selfish, egotistical, and handicapped by an overwhelming desire for acceptance. rache is the part of me I like least and I can only hope that I'm not really her as much as I probably am. She's always with me and unlike the others, I can't turn rache on or off. She's a self-motivated fatalist powered by external stimulation, you know? Like when I see something really stupid or just plain wrong or...Yeah. She's kinda whacked; we both are.

The girl's a complete slut too. She'll fuck anybody and I know because I was there when she did it. rache has a good time and then leaves me waking up in a strange place with a hole full of ball snot and pubic hair stuck in my teeth. Sometimes two or even three holes. She likes to drink, smoke, get abortions, and I'd better stop before I go off for real. She writes stuff like Predators, Hit 'n Run, and About Penguins. You know, the crazy stories.

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Lisa Oquias
Social Columnist; Political Analyst; V.P. Marketing

Back in the old days when I was trying to figure out if I was really queer or just another lipstick lesbian waiting for Mr. Right I used to write a lot of lesbian stories.

No surprises there, huh? If you had a boyfriend like mine you'd understand completely. I ended up marrying him too, which is why Lisa hasn't been posting much anymore. I finally grew up and put away childish things, but every now and again Lisa comes out to play with stories like Love Letter and Loren and stuff like that. Mostly though she just lurks and influences stories I'm writing under other names on other themes. Anytime you see a lesbian scene in one of my stories, chances are that she's responsible for it.

Hmmm...Not much else to say about her, except she's a lot of fun at parties. My first Spring Break...Wow! Lisa got kicked out of a bar for puking in the men's bathroom. I mean, I got kicked out...Same thing.

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Sloppy Dick
IT Manager; Web Mistress

Sloppy Dick doesn't actually write anything, but she does make my web sites...Like this one!

Now you can see why it's so fucked up.

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Uziel
Mascot; The Secret Me; Art Director/Production Design

The Secret Me. Uzi. She's my soul, I guess you could say. She pens stuff like Overheard in a Confessional and World Beneath and the RBVS (although she got a lot of help with that one) and basically Uziel is the part of me that really wants to ask God just what the hell does He think He's doing?

I've always been obsessed with two things: The nature of the universe and my place in it. I started writing mostly for therapeutic reasons, trying to get some thoughts down in a coherent way that would help me understand myself a little better. Sometimes I just wanted to rant and vent some dark emotions. Other times I want to compose arguments and push myself to think harder. Uziel is looking for the questions to the answers I see everyday in the world around me. She's kind of serious too, although I like to pretend she isn't because it doesn't hurt as much to look stupid if you're just joking.

I learned that in church.

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The God of Porn

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Harry
fiction by rache

 

"You don't know what kinda hell I've been through."

"Uh�"

"No�" Harry held up his hand. "No need to be polite about it. I know what was going through your mind when you saw my name on the list. It's okay. I'm just saying I've had it rough my whole life. I've been all the way down, see? So when you ask me if I'm sure I wanna do this, you ain't gotta worry. A suicide mission? I've been on a suicide mission since I was old enough to spell my name. You say it's a one way trip to hell? That's fine with me. I wanna look some people up when I get there. So you can stop looking, that's all I'm saying, cause I'm here now."

"Well, uh�" the Colonel cleared his throat and shuffled some papers. "I still have to ask, Lieutenant. Are you sure about this?"

"Heh!" Harry nodded slowly. "I gotta tell you something though. Something personal."

"What's that?"

"If this mission ain't as dangerous as you say it is?" He leaned forward, looking the older man in the eyes. "If I survive this shitstorm of yours�"

"Yes?"

"I'm gonna cut your fuckin' heart out when I get back."

The Colonel swallowed hard and watched as the young lieutenant excused himself without bothering to salute.

"I like him," the General said.

"Me too," Porky agreed and he worked for the CIA. "We found our boy," he said into his scrambled celphone.

"What's his name?" the President asked.

"Sir, it's better if you don't know the details," Porky said and the General nodded.

"Plausible Deniability, Mr. President," the General said loudly as Porky held the phone out.

"I understand," the President said from the Oval Office. "Good job."

"Thank you, sir." Porky turned off his phone.

"What is the guy's name anyway?" the General asked and then he rapped on the two way mirror to get the Colonel's attention.

"What's the guy's name?" Porky asked the Colonel a minute later when he came through the door.

"The lieutenant?" the Colonel asked and the other two men nodded. "Uh, Ballsucker. Lieutenant Harry D. Ballsucker."

"Ballsucker?" Porky grinned and then laughed, spraying a little spittle on the General's medals.

"No wonder he's pissed." The General laughed too. "Harry Ballsucker, eh? We definitely found our boy!"

"What's the D stand for?" Porky wondered and the Colonel shrugged.

"Your phone's ringing," the Colonel said and Porky looked at his hand.

"No it isn't," the man said. "It must be yours, General."

"Not mine," the General said.�

"Mmmmm�It's mine," Harry said, slapping his alarm clock and blinking at the morning light. "Fuck."

 

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