A Pay Pig's Story, NOT MINE, Vincent's

From the stupid little time waster video games or personal quizzes we create a password that is meaningless to the meaningful of passwords for our bank account and government IDs like the IRS or pension sites. The difficulty of our setting is determined by the importance it is applied to.

Say, however, we forget it in our vulnerable minds. Or say we tossed out the book we keep our passwords safely stored. It could become a headache. Something of the like happened to our modern day human protagonist called Vincent Perez. But before that, something worse happened...

Poor Vincent Perez, a slave to machines, technology, and information in this unsecure world of thiefs, hackers, and jealous women.

This isn't the first time. Once he created a password and set it the same to all his accounts: Facebook, Gmail, Pornhub, Tinder.

In one occasion. He went out one night to one of the bars in Roosevelt Avenue, Queens to dance and drink with the hot chicas. The chicas were hot, of course, but so was his wallet as he must've withdrawn $300 the whole night at different times.

Vincent had a better chance if he only had a drink or two to calm his nerves, but he went overboard and by closing time he hadn't managed to kiss or to take one woman out for a quick bang. Instead he was broke, horny, and it was closing time.

He rushed home in the cold weather. Dropping on his bed, he slept for an hour before waking up to an insatiable urge to practice coitus with a woman. There was none around him so he turned to Pornhub.

Half asleep, half drunk, when he visited the site he was surprised by a small window where a live woman appeared. It was definitely real as he remembers having communicated with such from time to time. They are not only expensive but also very naughty in sexuality and morale.

He said "Hi," she responded like he was a younger, ripped Brad Pitt, "Hello sexy, wanna see me (enter sexual act)?"

Vincent was caught. This lady asked him to turn on his laptop cam. He did so rapidly as the urge couldn't be resisted.

This unvirtuous of a woman's eye widened as she realized he was drunk or high. There's when her inner female seductiveness and cunning ability to dupe came alive.

Without going into explicit detail. They were already getting it on through cam. But she wouldn't let him finish until he was dared to give him his instagram password. Yes, believe or or not. He was dared to give away a password, folks.

This dare came with a bundle of freebies like she sending him personalized pictures and eventually meeting up and taking pictures with each other, even suggesting for a certain amount that she would sleep with him. Yes folks, we are not talking sleep like in the acient times linguo but the modern sense.

This guy Vincent was all over her at this point. Heck her name wasn't even important. He definitely didn't even remember how she looked like the following day. The type of stuff he was telling her to do, and the type of stuff he was willing to do to her. Oh boy, he was a pig! not just an ordinary pig but what they call a PAY PIG!

She had him by the neck and by the neck i mean the part above his torso and below his head with the brain in it. At some point he uttered, salivating, he couldn't give her his password because it was the same for all his accounts, including that of Bank of America. What a brute and what a pig, and not those cute pigs with the nice round snout and the little feet. No, he was a gross and a fool of a PAY PIG!

She had him. Vincent gave her his phone number for verification and to start the "relationship" before handing over his password. It was her, it was the same on the cam: the soft voice with an Eastern European accent, a little raspy but it only made her sexier.

He gave her his password right after she did something on the cam that cannot be mentioned here. He released with a fury. All withdrawn from the drinks, energy, stupidity, he fell asleep with the laptop on his bed. All dirty with his clothes strewn all over, he slept like a true pig, a PAY PIG!

He woke up several hours later and attempted to recapitulate the morning earlier. It was too late. Vincent jumped out of his and opened his laptop, the battery had died. He searched for his phone in the pig sty where he lived. Finding it he quickly went where it mattered: Bank of America. It was too late folks. It continued to say incorrect password. With a snort he clicked on Reset Password.