What a Rake


"Why yes, I have seven homes, you're free to live in one if you'd like, just be my wife," the older man at the bar asked the young woman.

"I'm sorry, I'll have to pass," she rejects his offer.

The man was Mr. Pennywither, a wealthy socialite. He was most known for flaunting his wealth and his rather promiscuous habits. He would invite young ladies to his homes and offer them large sums of money to do things their morals would usually force them to say no to. The man was not pleasant but recently he had become good for a laugh. There had been somewhat of a revolution around town lately with many of the women flat out rejecting any all advances from him. A group of men sitting in a booth adjacent to the bar laughed at him. He waved his hand dismissing them as unimportant, only for them to laugh even harder at him.

"You lot have never seen a real man in your lives," Mr. Pennywither taunts the men.

They don't stop laughing, in fact they manage to laugh even harder at him. He moves on to the other side of the bar looking for more women to bother. He settles upon a table where several women laugh and dine on bar food. Approaching them he goes into his old and outdated routine. They had heard it hundreds of times from their mothers, Mr. Pennywither had simply been around that long.

"We're more interested in real men," Belle tells Mr. Pennywither who is clearly at the end of his line.

"I'll show you a real man," Mr. Pennwither says.

For a man of his age he manages to find his way onto the table quickly. Soon he's fussing with his belt and dropping his pants to reveal his genitals. A very small turtle sitting on two boulders greeted the women. The men from earlier begin to rush over planing put an end to Pennywither's antics once and for all, as he had gone too far now. The men were quickly waved off by several of the women at the table.

"Wow, can I touch it," Belle asks in her most innocent voice.

"You sure can, it's only natural that you find true manhood irresistible," Mr. Pennywither arrogantly overstates what he's packing.

Belle reaches forward and grips both of his boulders in her hand and begins to squeeze with force. Belle was stronger than most women and a lot of men. Many women started working in factories during the war, but majority of them went home to start families afterwards. Belle had no intentions of starting a family any time soon and enjoyed the work, so she stayed. Belle used the strength she had gained to squeeze and twist Pennywither to his knees on the table.

"Please stop, you're going to pop them," pennywither asked with tears falling from his face.

"That's the plan," Belle gloats as the room laughs at his pain.

"I'm sorry," the words had never left Pennywither's mouth before and he had never been treated like this before. A night of first.

"Leave this bar," Belle tightens her grip once again "and if you see a woman in here from now on, you leave."

"I understand," he cries out.

"Good, and pay for everyone's food and drinks before you leave. You fucking rake," Belle threatens.

When he's released Pennywither falls from the table holding the pebbles he once called boulders that symbolized his manhood. That night the bar laughed, ate and of course drank on his tab. Belle became a local hero to the women and men of the town. From that day forth Mr. Pennywither was a lot more bearable, still nobody liked him because he was a rake.

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