Porn Hating Ex

Hanna was in one of her favorite places lately: A podcast! One where could rant about pornography and its degenerate effects on men while potentially getting listeners to listen in on her show. It was the closest she had to a job, not that she needed one given how rich her family was. Well, that, and she was in college. Despite everything, she still made sure to keep her grades up. No Connell should skate by on wealth.

In that case, it was a new podcast, called Questions with Paisley, where the titular host interviewed various women about topics relating to gender, sex, dating, and so on. Not the newest thing under the sun, but the host seemed professional, had a high class British accent that was easy to listen to, and when Hanna checked the listenership numbers, saw it was a well performing podcast. Not that Hanna could be picky after she got kicked off her last gig for hanging out with TERFs, or whatever the woke nonsense of the month was.

The interview initially was just introducing Hanna to Paisley’s audience.

“So Hanna, introduce yourself to us,” Paisley welcomed. “I’m sure you’ve done it a lot, but still.”

“Well, many have called me a spoiled rich girl,” Hanna put on an exaggerated upper class accent. “Lived a life of luxury, ate off golden plates, my silverware was actual silver, the works.”

She trailed off to let the punchline land, and Paisley gave her a chuckle to know it had worked. It was an old joke, but Hanna kept it in her repertoire to feel more approachable.

“My parents are rich, but they made me work a bit, and earn any fortune I got access to,” Hanna said. “I went to a tough private school, although not the harshest. I’m not going to deny I was lucky though. There’s a lot of choices I didn’t have to think that others still do.”

“What kind of choices?” Paisley asked. “I mean, you obviously didn’t have to worry about food.”

“Many know me as a crusader against porn,” Hanna got into another well worn groove. “But I don’t hate the women caught up in it. I get it, you got to put food on the table. I hate the game, not women who are stuck playing it.”

“What about those who watch it?” Paisley continued. “Are they just the patriarchy enforcing everything?”

“Not necessarily,” Hanna said. “I knew a guy once, named Max. I liked him a lot, and even dated him in high school, as much as that means anything. But then he turned out to be a massive pervert. I thought for a bit I had just been tricked but… now I think he got addicted to all that shit. That it warped his mind. And that’s what made me hate it. Seeing it corrupt someone into a worse version of themselves.”

It had been a good interview so far, with everything going Hanna’s way. But then the topic took a turn she hadn’t been anticipating. And the way Paisley introduced it got her off guard.

“So you bring up this ex-boyfriend of yours a lot,” Paisley said. “Why can’t you get over it? It was in high school, something you yourself were dismissive of. Why does it matter that a teenage boy consumed porn?”

“He was jerking off in the school bathroom!” Hanna exploded. “He was a total porn addict, judging by all the porn I found in his bag and locker.”

“Porn on his person?” Paisley asked. “Thought everyone just looked up that kind of thing on their phone?”

“Our school had a no phone policy,” Hanna continued, her prior restraint gone. “The only devices one could access were controlled well enough that, for the most part, no one could get away with looking up such filth online.”

Hanna then launched into a rant about how pornography rotted men’s brains, and turned them into drooling perverts. It was a well practiced rant, one that moved into topics of women being objectified, abused by the industry, and so on. But she wasn’t on script. Paisley had set her off, and prevented her from controlling herself. Hence, Hanna’s rant ended up being more focused on men than she intended. By the time she finished, she saw that Paisley was smirking at her, as if the rant had made her an idiot.

“Why were you looking at Max jerking off in the school restroom anyway?” Paisley’s question pierced Hanna’s anti-porn tirade. “Seems a little odd for someone who's been rather obsessed with who pees where? Or do you just hang out with TERFs to spread your bullshit further?”

Before Hanna could respond, her world went black. When she next woke up, it was in a very different part of the world than she expected...

“So what about Hanna?” Paisley asked. “For a guy who often wants to be progressive, you seem quite agitated whenever I bring her up.”

“She ruined my life!” Max’s voice descended into a whine. “And this is not some angsty teenager shit either. No, she got me expelled for having porn on school grounds, and then hounded me so much about it that my parents had to move us to another city. I almost got on the sex offender registry because of her bullshit.”

As much as Max hated to admit, he often sounded like a teenage boy all over again whining about the unfairness of the world. It was as if Hanna trapped him in the worst years of his life, and then made sure he never got to leave.

“Wow,” Paisley said. “That’s a lot. How did you finish high school?”

“Scraped by through getting a GED,” Max said. “I didn’t want to attend high school again because it was too likely everything would come out again. I was able to with the GED, and my parents had to spend a fair amount of money for me to attend community college where I just grinded out pre-reqs while trying to navigate my condition. There was no possible way I was going to be able to work while attending class.”

“We’ll return to that idea later,” Paisley said, “probably in another session. Let's return to Hanna. You said she ruined your life because of you getting expelled. But that only happened a couple of years ago. Why are you convinced that she ruined your life as a whole?”

Max took a breath before responding, holding back tears. “Because before she did all of that, I thought I had my life together. Sure, I had to masturbate all the time, but I was doing decently at school, and I was even doing after school stuff with the debate club. With Hanna…”

He couldn’t do it. Max bawled his eyes out thinking back on the early days. “I thought I had a girlfriend. And that mattered, not because I wanted to fuck her, but because it showed I could manage my condition without grossing a girl out. And instead…”

Crying filled the room for several minutes, as Max remembered every hope he had got smashed against a tree. Every friendship he had made in debate club, every bit of progress he had made in school, every bit of patience he showed with Hanna, and it was all for nothing. All because he had the audacity to try to manage his condition at school. It didn’t matter that he went to the restroom so that no one could see him, or that he had hidden the materials with which he masturbated. When the way Max chose to manage his condition came out, it had cost him everyone and almost everything.

“I lost everyone and everything,” Max finished. “And I don’t know how to get back to that point...”

Max didn’t want to deal with Hanna. He was pretty sure he’d rather have someone fuck his ass, unlubricated, in front of his parents, than deal with Hanna again. But Paisley had made the conditions clear. Shortly after her initial spiel, Paisley had teleported both of them into a hallway that looked to be inside of a mansion. There were two doors nearby, one that looked like it headed to a powder bathroom, and the other to a bedroom.

“Go on Max,” Paisley taunted, “show me those debating skills. I’ll even let you masturbate beforehand so you’re in the best possible condition to do so. I suggest taking it.”

As much as Max wanted to say that he’d at this point rather fuck a cactus than deal with Hanna again, he held his tongue, went to a nearby powder bathroom, and jerked off. As one with more skill in masturbation than most humans achieve in any field of study in a lifetime, he cummed in less than a minute, and cleared his head for what was ahead. After leaving the powder bathroom, Max took a deep breath, and opened the door to the bedroom.

When Max entered the other room to find a well furnished bedroom and Hanna sitting on the bed. If he could forget what she had done to him, Max could admit Hanna was attractive. She was fatter than he remembered, but most of her weight had gone to the right places. Outside of that, she had the same perky blonde look that attracted him all the way back, that came from an athletic build, and that Hanna seemed to often have a lot of nervous energy. Once, years ago, Max had fantasized of that energy being able to keep up with him in bed. But that had died a long time ago, along with any love he had ever had for her.

The second Max entered the room, the door shut behind him, and sealed itself shut. Hanna stopped pacing, and stared at him. Without missing a beat, she asked, “Was this your idea?”

“No,” Max said while taking a few steps towards her. “Believe it or not, I’ve been kidnapped as well. The good news is, you might be able to leave soon.”

That got Hanna’s attention. “How can I leave?”

“You have to help me convince Paisley that she should let you go.” Max said. “Paisley is-”

“That fucking bitch!” Hanna screamed in a way that reminded Max far too much of the rant she gave him in high school. “If you have anything to do with that woman, you’re even worse than I thought, because she somehow kidnapped me after humiliating me on a live podcast!”

At first, all Max could do was just stare, the way an adult stares at a child throwing a tantrum as they decide what punishment to start with. He realized that Hanna was stressed out by the situation at hand, and he really needed to get a grip.

“Paisley was my therapist,” Max said. “She’s a monster, and possibly a deity, but I didn’t know that. I know you don’t want to give me the benefit of the doubt, but it’s kind of important you try to do so for the situation at hand. If I seem remarkably calm, I’m under the magical equivalent of anti-anxiety medication. Otherwise I’d be freaking out like you.”

Saying that seemed to also affect Hanna. Did bringing it up spread the effect?

“Why did you need therapy?” Hanna asked. “Thought you just jerked off to big fake tits for that?”

Hanna was making this very difficult. But still, they were in an interdimensional reality show with sex slaves, Max had to keep it together to get her out.

“I needed therapy in large part because of you,” Max said. “In a better world, we would never have seen each other again, and you would’ve run for office or something rather than talking about me on podcasts.”

“The patriarchy will not let a woman like me be elected!” Hanna screamed. “Not with all the perverts, the hypocritical liberals, the-”

Max just couldn’t help it. It didn’t matter how childish it was in the circumstances at hand, he just had to have an outburst. “Oh right, you hang out with bigots because despite graduating high school with full honors, all you seem to know how to do is rant about porn. I remember on a lark looking up what you had been up to, and I got to say, hanging out with TERFs is a low even for you.”

It was a cheap shot, but Hanna deserved it. Besides, Max needed to let off steam before he could do this discussion the right way.

“I’m going to college, asshole!” Hanna returned. “Unlike you, I’m actually becoming a productive citizen! I don’t just skate by on my parents.”

Of course, they were going to waste their time getting into a stupid fucking argument. Max collected himself, and tried again.

“Hanna, we don’t have time for this,” Max said. “You are running out of time. I don’t want you to be my sex slave, because I don’t want to deal with you at all in any capacity. Before you respond, please keep in mind that you are running out of time, and that I’m fast losing the ability to do anything about it!”

The last statement gave Hanna pause. That pause lasted a worrisome amount of time from Max’s perspective given the clock was ticking and he didn’t want to be stuck with Hanna for the foreseeable future.

“I’m not the one who decided to masturbate on school ground-”

“Hanna, that doesn’t matter,” Max said. “My crimes are immaterial. That you chose to enter the boy’s bathroom to find me doing it, and that you chose to go through my things without my permission is what matters. Even if you think it is unjust, guess what, the referee in this case doesn’t fucking care!”

The scream that erupted from Max was not one of anger at Hanna, but instead, exasperation. And, thank some lucky star, she started to get it, as he could see her try to control herself. To get that if she wanted to escape here she had to persuade Max to let her go. She had been in debate club for longer than him, and knew what was required for an argument, including one made under nonsensical rules.

“Look, what am I supposed to say?” Hanna asked. “That I regretted hurting you? That I was wrong to reveal all the porn you had to the principal? What can I say here that isn’t a lie?”

It was true that what Max did was perverted. Wrong. He brought pornography to with him to school repeatedly, against not only the school’s rules, but also because he could’ve exposed it to those underage, and to those who didn’t consent to see it. What he had hoped, perhaps naively, was that no one would ever find out. That it would never matter, because they would never see it.

“You can answer a question truthfully,” Max said. “Why did you do it? You talked a lot about respecting boundaries, and yet when it most mattered, you refused to respect mine. Why were you going through my locker, and why did you burst into the men’s room in order to yell at me about it? It’s especially strange for someone who will sometimes care a lot about the genitals of someone with the audacity to want to piss-”

Max just couldn’t help it. Even in this situation, he had to go off. He was already kicking himself over it as he lost all the discipline he had built up from high school.

“OH FUCK YOU!” Hanna erupted. “Hypocritical feminists defend themselves through guilt by association!”

The explosive reaction revealed to Max what a sore spot this was for Hanna. Perhaps she knew what she was doing was wrong, but just couldn’t accept it because of her hatred of pornography. Not that it mattered much in the scheme of things, but trivialities had become dominant.

Once Hanna calmed down, she continued. “Look, I thought you were going to give me an explanation for why you had a hentai manga, and multiple magazines filled with filth. Instead, I saw you masturbating on school property!”

“You didn’t answer the question Hanna,” Max said. “Why did you go through my locker? I can’t save you unless you give me an answer for that!”

The bleak silence that followed wasn’t helpful. Hanna seemed to be collecting herself, and to Max’s shock, began to cry. “I was going to leave you a surprise. But then I saw a bunch of porn and had to confront you about it because you knew I hated that. For someone so intent on getting answers, let me ask you why you had so much porn with you on school grounds?”

Well, he could at least answer that.

“Do you know what hypersexuality is Hanna?” Max asked. “And before you say something about porn addiction, no, it is not the same thing.”

“It’s an excuse used by men who can’t control themselves,” Hanna said with a triumphant tone. “Or a result of women being brainwashed by an over sexualized culture.”

Well, they were both fucked. Before Max could try to explain himself, he was teleported out by Paisley…

When Max re-appeared, he was on the beach again with Paisley. She was lounging on the beach in a chair, while he was stuck back on the throne. Unlike last time, he could move, and he took advantage of it to bolt towards her.

“Well that was a shit show,” Paisley said while Max went up to her. “Why exactly should I let her go, given that performance?”

Paisley was sunbathing while drinking a martini, wearing aviator sunglasses, and occasionally reading a magazine.

“Look Paisley,” Max sprinted over to Paisley. “Hanna hates me, and I assure you the feeling is mutual. How is she a good candidate for a show that’s about seducing me?”

Being closer to her made Max realize Paisley was reading a very strange magazine. Some of its pages had pin up models, others had various occult symbols all over them, and others still seemed to be glowing reviews for… something. The title of the magazine was Transformations Monthly with the proud subtitle of “For Hosts, by Hosts.”

“She’s young, has plenty of energy that could be used for fucking, and the audience would love to see her get punished,” Paisley said. “Did I tell you that contestants on Harem Hotel get transformed against their will? Or that the transformations are usually quite sexual in nature? Hanna could get the perfect bust to complement her figure, or even get a change in-”

“Even if I believed that you could alter Hanna,” Max said, “it doesn’t change the problem here. We both loath each other. How are you going to get her to even try to seduce me?”

The horror of what Paisley was asking him to do of course should’ve mattered, but didn’t. Not with whom Max was dealing with.

“Max, you got here through magic,” Paisley said. “I assure you that teleportation alone violates multiple laws of physics, or at least the science that your world knows. Why are you doubting our ability to alter people against their will?”

It took a beat, but then Max summoned up a speech that came from the very depths of his soul, and a short story he once did a book report on to demonstrate that sci-fi could be highbrow.

“There are millions of miles of highway in the United States of America, at least in the world I come from. If you were to engrave the word hate on every foot of all that highway, it would only just about equal the hatred I feel for her. The only way I avoided beating that self-righteous hypocritical bitch to a pulp was the sense that I’d somehow be living down to her worldview if I did that. So tell me, what possible magic is there that will make me consider any of her advances?”

“Come on Max, you know what hate fucking is, don’t you?” Paisley asked while she continued to flip through the magazine. “Besides, you’d be surprised what people can do when a fate far worse than lacking a mouth to scream with is on the line.”

“As my former therapist, and someone who claims to care about me,” Max’s voice dripped with sarcasm, “what possible benefit is there in forcing me to hang out with my ex? For that matter what benefit is there for her, if that matters at all here?”

Paisley stopped reading at that point, and then waved her hand so the magazine disappeared in a show meant to demonstrate to Max her magical prowess. She then took off her shades so that she could look Max in the eyes. “Hanna Connell violated you Max in a way usually experienced by women. It is critical for your treatment plan that you get to return the favor.”

“I think we’re a bit beyond treatment at this point,” Max said. “Judging by your announcement, that was all-”

Max was shocked when Paisley suddenly blinked in front of him, and stared him deep in the eyes. “I know this is uncomfortable for you Max, but I’m going to make something very clear. You are still in treatment, and I’m not lying to you, or anyone else, when I say I’m doing what’s best for you. There’s another reason besides facilitating revenge that I’m bringing Hanna to you.”

“What’s that?” Max was scared and tried backing away. “What possible treatment plan facilitates kidnapping people to an island that may not even be on my Earth?”

Paisley smiled, perhaps because she had regained the initiative. “You and Hanna had something real, Max. I know it’s hard to see that now, but just you wait. We’re going to fix all the damage she did to you, one transformation at a time...”