‘Her Ass Swallowed The Beads’ – The Story Of How Sorority Girls Wound Up In The ER While Experimenting With Sex Toys
It’s no secret that college is one of the only times in your life where you can almost get away with murder and still not have people judge you. Oh, you like running around campus while dressed as a donkey? Go for it. You’re making it your own personal mission to bring back denim shorts on men? Okay, pushing it, but fine. No one really wants to see that bright and shining man-thigh at 9:30 in the morning, but as long as you don’t rub it all up on me then no one cares.
But carrying anal beads around in your ass all day so you can keep your butthole tight for when you let guys stick it up your butt so you can still call yourself a “virgin”….yeah. I might just judge you for that.
From the novel Dirty Rush comes a story so “wait what the fuck” that you might just call up your slam to make sure she’s not carrying ass beads around all day just for the sake of keeping things “in check” down in her ship’s rear cabin. Think about it. For all you know everyone AROUND you could be walking around with beads in their ass and you would never know! Your mom, your best friend, that weird kid in your chem lab who you suspect has head lice because he won’t stop raking his hands through his hair…it could be anyone.
But I’m getting sidetracked. I’ll let Taylor Bell, author of Dirty Rush take it from here:
“Kenadie’s a virgin, aren’t you, Ken?” said Colette, making a sharp right turn into the liquor store parking lot.
“Sure am,” she confirmed.
“Um, wow,” I said. I was pretty shocked that any of them were virgins, especially the sex-deprived Christian belle of the bunch. As Colette pulled into an empty parking spot, her phone chimed. She looked at it and handed it to Kenadie, ordering her to “Deal with this, please.”
“What’s up?” Kenadie took Colette’s phone and looked at the text.
“He should know I’m never gonna pay that.”
“’Kay, girl, I’m handling. Jeez,” she said as she typed away on Colette’s iPhone and then turned back to me and winked.
“I know it’s hard to believe, but this good lil’ Christian’s front porch has never had guests over for sweet tea. Not ’til marriage.”
“That’s cool. I respect that,” I said, unbuckling my seat belt.
“Oh, you’ll wait in the car,” said Colette. “They’re ID-psychos and are notorious for confiscating fakes here and I’m guessing-slash-hoping you’re not a twenty-one-year-old freshman?”
“Nope. I’m definitely not. And I’d like to hold on to my sister’s old ID for as long as possible, so sticking in the car sounds like a great idea.”
“Back in a jif, Tay-Tay,” Kenadie said before slamming the passenger door. I wanted to tell her that “Tay-Tay” gave me the creeps, but she was gone before I could get the words out. As she walked away, I noticed that she had a crucifix tattooed on her lower back, which really summed up everything I knew about Kenadie…
Before I got too deep into thinking about it, I saw the two girls coming through the sliding doors of the liquor store. Neither of them seemed to be holding any bags. And they were running, fast, toward the car.
“I FUCKING KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN!” screamed as she ripped the door open, throwing herself back into the car. “OWWWWW,” she let out slowly and nasally as her ass landed in the bucket of the seat. “I knew it. I fucking knew it. Goddamnit, fucking Christ.”
Colette hopped up into the SUV and slammed her door.“Emergency detour” were the only words she said before turning the key and speeding out of the parking lot, nearly taking out a husky, middle-aged man in a football jersey. Kenadie’s moaning continued, punctuated by the occasional wail of fuck my life or Jesus hold me now!
“Sorry, um, what’s going on?” I asked, trying to sound as cool and collected as possible.
Kenadie wailed louder this time. “We are NOT talkin’ about this with her.” She adjusted her weight in the seat. “Ow! Damnit!” Whatever it was that was happening had something to do with her ass or her back because she hadn’t stopped squirming since getting back in the car.
“It’s not a big deal, Kenadie,” Colette said coldly without taking her eyes off the road.
“No, Colie,” Kenadie barked back.
“I’m sorry I asked. I just—” Maybe I should’ve kept my mouth shut.
“Her ass swallowed the beads,” Colette stated plainly.
“Colette! You bitch! Ow! Are you fuckin’ kidding?!” Kenadie slammed her hand on the dashboard in an uncharacteristically genuine moment. She was pissed but also in so much pain.
I was concerned now.
“Kenadie,” Colette began, swerving onto a side street, “if you don’t want people talking about the fact that you carry anal beads around in your ass all day, then you probably shouldn’t carry anal beads around in your ass all day.”
“We’re not talking about this! Oh mah God! Just get me to the friggin’ ER and shut up and drive fast and just shut the fuck up!” Kenadie shouted.
There was silence.
I could try to think of a moment in my life where I felt more uncomfortable, but this took the cake. I wanted to know why Kenadie was stashing beads in her butt, but I also didn’t. I glanced out the window at the cars we were passing. Colette must’ve been going at least twenty above the speed limit.
I stared at the green/beige/puke-colored carpet in the hospital waiting room. Colette hadn’t said a word to me since we sat down and it was starting to get even more awkward than before…
I put my phone back into my bag and smiled at Colette.
“Kenadie only has butt sex so that she can say she’s a virgin without lying,” Colette said at full volume, looking at me now.
She examined her flawless manicure and continued, “So yeah, she lets guys fuck her in the ass, and performs tightening rituals during the day in order to keep things cute and fun down there, if you know what I’m saying. The rear is a whole ’nother animal. Hence the beads.”
If you think that’s shocking, wait until you get to the part about the girls having what I’m going to loosely describe as a “vomit orgy” while driving around in a convertible with the top down. Or when they have to go on a scavenger hunt for semen and urine from some frat boys. Or when…actually, I’m not going to spoil all the fun for you. I’ll just direct you to Amazon’s Dirty Rush page so you can grab a copy on your own. Trust me, if you’re now looking at the people around you and wondering “Wait…what if they’re all carrying ass beads around??” then it’ll be worth it.