The middle of the Mojave Desert; someplace between Los Angeles and Las Vegas…night has fallen and the sound of coyotes howling under the moonlight as a storm threatens to disrupt the calm solitude of their ‘Desert Decadence’…
The night seemed longer than usual. The sky grew progressively darker as Rebekah’s waited for the bus. She decided to spend the night in a cheap seedy motel at what she considered to be a place people would go to die. Most likely from overdosing on meth since this seemed to be the drug of choice here. She was already hit on quite a few times just sitting on the boulevard bench. Mostly by middle-aged men flashing some crisp new bills fresh from the bank and a few local high schoolers looking to score before their big game. If she wasn’t so in love with Claire she’d gladly give some head or a quickie for some Benjamins but that would be cheating on her angel. God knows she was in too deep with her beautiful American dream wrapped around her body like a rainbow-sprinkled white chocolate covered pretzel.
Downtown did have their share of collectives sprawling with a diverse age group of worshipers. The foggy glow from the green neon crosses were where the locals went to pay homage to the ‘Pot God’ and to save their soul from the torment of living in hell. At least this town was so damn hot you’d think Satan was elected mayor. The ironic thing was there seemed to be the same number of churches. As if people lost all faith and hope in salvation through the naked dude nailed to two planks of wood.
The 69 Club was the local strip joint where horny old men and razor-cut boys would pay their tithes to living goddesses. There would be some pregame action in the parked SUVs and Humvees with the best local young talent the schools had to offer.
Rebekah was from the Middle East so she knew oppression from religious zealots and had seen some of her girlfriends tortured for not only kissing girls but merely hugging them in public.
She loved how liberated American girls were and already had a love interest which she kept secret from her judgmental, holier than Allah parents. They had hopes that daddy’s little girl would marry some well-established Ivy League business graduate or a young aspiring doctor. But she focused all her research and studies on ‘Clitoral Relations with special emphasis on Culinary Climaxation.’
She was a dancer though and wanted to create a new expressive form of stage play to push the social envelope. Her community was so damn repressed she wanted to really test even the artist elites in her city. She wanted to produce and star in her own rendition of Rent that would involve live sex scenes on stage.
An all nude production and the acting would be very much real with a diverse cast of actors from various cultural and ethnic backgrounds. Rebekah just thought the human body was so expressive and creative as a living breathing canvass. One reason she loved body painting so much, along with the occasional paint enema art done in front of a live audience onto a 20 by 20 feet canvass.
Her eclectic artist community was responsible for the globally controversial Piss Allah which caused a furor in the Middle East and with the pro-West Saudis. Some say this led to the public beheadings of local indie artists whose loyalties were more aligned with the West than with the Imam. The US State Department sent out a strongly worded condemnation of the most recent public executions however the risk of further damaging the already strained relations with the Middle Eastern allies proved too much. It’s better a few heads roll with blood on their own streets than our own or a higher premium for petroleum at the pumps.
President Trump’s hands are so tied he couldn’t even wipe his own ass on this latest viral video being transmitted all over YouTube of the latest college student demonstrators gruesome torture and deaths. On his Twitter account he stated that the Deep State was responsible for enabling this violence towards the pro-democracy university students who have been the most vocal in front the news media; especially InfoWars and CNN. Some of the women, mostly between 18 and 25 years old, had ‘Free Speech This’ written in crimson across their bare breasts. Others chose to bare it all with lips locked on one another, embracing for the live feed which would go viral in seconds. The male demonstrators were the ones burning effigies of Ali Khamenei in the University Plaza.
Rebekah was a rebel with a cause and could care less anymore since her university lover was murdered by these ‘Cultural Purists’ who in her mind made her seem that much more immortal and immune from the sins of men. She will avenge her friend’s killings through her social media followings and inviting the world to see through her own eyes the pain she felt deep within.
Her friends have pushed the envelope in their urine, menstrual fluid, and defecation abstract artwork which angered and enraged the sensitivities of these holier than Muhammad religious leaders. Rebekah even stripped down to her undergarments in the local mosque while holding the Quran for an impromptu selfie shoot. She was comfortable enough in her own liberation that she was willing to take chances just for the thrill of it. Plus she relished any opportunity to show off her Arabic angelic curves and derrière which needed to get spanked into submission by her long-awaited sex goddess.
She respected her past and cultural upbringing however she valued her own personal freedom more and that of her newfound creative and free-spirited community. Her parents were both already old and near deaths door anyways. Her extended family was now her close circle of artists, visual expressionist, voyeur exhibitionists, indie musicians, and aspiring writers.
Collectively they would all chant in their rallies, “My body, my mind, my sex, who I fuck is my choice, I’m free to be naked with my creativity.”
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