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Samuel Johnson; January 26, 2010


In an effort to blow off steam Samuel will spend at least ten minutes a day for the next week looking rad in the mirror. He will also record messages to himself about how smart and talented he is and pretend they are form other people, mostly his sire. On one occasion he will go totally wild and write himself a letter from the counsel that informs him that one of their number has fallen and only he has the brains and drive to replace him. After this heady fantasy he will need to lie down.

Influence Response:

You commit yourself to several indulgent evenings of self-pleasuring fantasy as you imagine everybody finally recognizing what a smart, intelligent, scheming, cunning, reasonably good looking, and efficient little magical vampire you are. Your mental cock enjoys the attention you firmly pay it, fapping it so thoroughly, as you climax in Tremeregasm after Tremeregasm. "But what's this!? A letter from your sire! Oh my! A promotion to Pontifex!? Straight from Apprentice!? But of course! You humbly accept the position. For House and Clan! Oh... what's that? Why, you'd be honored to carry out a tribunal next Saturday... the defendant is that one snotty apprentice who made fun of you and locked you in the Chantry cellar during that big ritual? Why of course they can trust your impartiality! What's that? *gasp* Councillor Mirlinda has gone missing and there's nobody to lead the North American alliance? What will House and Clan do!? If only somebody brave and exceedingly cunning were here to take matters firmly into hand! If only somebody like... PONTIFEX JOHNSON could take a seat on the council!"

After that final Tremeregasm, however, you look over the letter you've just written and feel a little dirty. You realize that you were fantasizing... fantasizing about *bad things* happening to the Council of Seven. You feel a tinge of embarrassment as you remember how much you love the Council of Seven and how, as a good little Tremere, you would *never ever EVER* want bad things to happen to them.

You look around briefly, paranoid for a moment that somebody might see your shame. You do your best to think happy Pyramid-approved thoughts afterward.

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