FapReport Tech Support Transcript

TS: FapReport Tech Support, how can I help you?

Cust: Take down my profile!

TS: Sir, this line is for women only. If you want help with our male department, you--

Cust: That option just puts me on hold forever! I was on there for three hours!

TS: *giggle* Wow, most guys get the joke within two hours!

Cust: You think this is funny?! Your website is a huge violation of privacy!

TS: Well, sir, we at FapReport don't really think so. See, now that all women have Sex Magic, your sexual thoughts and memories are a complete open book to any woman who wants to take a peek in your pervy little mind. If you want to blame anyone, blame yourself for being born with a dick and balls.

Cust: You can't just abuse your powers like this!

TS: The power begs to differ, Henry Stevenson.

Cust: Wh-what? I didn't tell you my name yet? Are you using your powers?!

TS: No, just the Caller ID function on my computer. But thank you for confirming. Now, let's see this profile of yours...

Cust: No, don't look at it!

TS: Oh, goodness. It says here that you like it when a girl finger fucks your asshole. You fucked an apple pie once because you saw it in a movie. You fantasize about your old grade school teacher slapping your balls with a yardstick. You used to steal your sister’s panties to sniff them. And your mothers!

Cust: I never stole my mother's panties! That's a lie!

TS: But you did steal your sister’s?

Cust: I--! N-no! Why would you even believe that?!

TS: Because it’s true, isn’t it?

Cust: You don’t know that! You can’t know that!

TS: Actually, sir… I think I’m getting a pretty good sense of who you are from this profile. There’s even pictures. If I focus on your image, and these fantasies, and I cast my senses in the general direction of the address on the ID… yes… yes, I think… ah. There you are Henry. Or do you prefer Hank?

Cust: You can’t sense me! That’s impossible! We’ve never met!

TS: That’s one of the beauties of FapReport, sir. A woman doesn’t even have to have met with or played with a man to get a sense of him. It’s difficult to make contact at first, but if he’s within their natural range limit, she can sometimes make a connection if she tries real hard. Me, I’ve done this hundreds of times, so I’m a pro at finding men. Of course, it helps when a pervert like you already has a throbbing hard-on when they call me. This is turning you on, isn’t it?

Cust: No! I hate your website!

TS: Liar. The thought of even women you’ve never met before, who didn’t even know you existed, now knowing all your dirty secrets and giggling over them is quite arousing for you.

Cust: Y-y-you’re the one lying! You’re just messing with my head!

TS: Do you feel a tongue on your shaft?

Cust: Ah! Yes!

TS: You feel a hand on your balls?

Cust: Yes! No! You can’t be--!

TS: How about a finger wriggling in your rectum?

Cust: Ahh!

TS: Do you believe me now?

Cust: Aaaaah! St-stop! Stop!

TS: *giggle* Goodness, you are tense! No wonder you’re already hard. When did you last empty those? Wait, hold on, your profile should say. Oh, wow, back in August? That was four months ago! No wait, August of last year? Hahahaha!

Cust: St-stop laughing! My balls are killing me, my cock is always hard, and your fucking website keeps encouraging girls to send little tease spells and dirty notes to me every day! Please, remove my profile! I can’t stand it anymore!

TS: Well, for one thing, sir, as a male, what you want is irrelevant. Our website exists for women’s fun and amusement, and if you don’t like it, too bad. You shouldn’t have been born a guy. For another, even if we did remove it, I have no doubt some of your “secret admirers” would just make another one. You’ve got an above average amount of followers.

Cust: I’ve got followers?

TS: Yes. You can’t see the number unless you’re logged in. Of course, very few men are allowed to edit their own profile, for obvious reasons. Anyway, you’ve got at least three thousand followers on here. I guarantee if I deleted your profile, at least a few of them would recreate it before the end of the day

Cust: Can’t you block my name from being used or something?

TS: Well, that wouldn’t be fair to all the other Henry Stevensons out there, now would it? And anyway, it’s not like they couldn’t remake the profile under another name or something.

Cust: So you won’t do anything?

TS: No.

Cust: Fucking cunt! You fuck--AAAH!!!

TS: Ooooh, hot sauce up the bum! I do that sensation to my boyfriend whenever he gets smart with me!

Cust: AAAAHH!!! You bitch, you cunt, I’ll fucking sue you!

TS: Yeah, good luck with that. The world doesn’t belong to your good-old-boy patriarchy anymore. It’s women’s turn to have their fun!

Cust: I’ll fucking kill you!

TS: Oh my! You know what? Just for that, I’m putting a five-day Open Season on your profile.

Cust: W-what the fuck does that mean?!

TS: Open Season is an invitation for every woman who wants to unload her strongest teasing spells on the guy in the profile. You’ve got over three thousand followers. I’m sure at least half of them are in range, or know someone in range, and have already connected to your penis before. Imagine a thousand women attacking your dick at once, without restraint, for five whole days. That’s what’s going to happen to you when I click this button.

Cust: No! Wait! Please! I’m sorry!

TS: Are you? Are you really?

Cust: Yes! I’m sorry! I’m sorry I wasted your time! I’m sorry I threatened you! I was out of line! I’m just going out of my mind here, and I’m so humiliated, and—

TS: So, you’ve learned your lesson? That women, and their fun, aren’t to be fucked with?

Cust: Yes! Yes, I swear!

TS: I’m very glad to hear it. You have a nice week, sir.

Cust: Okay… thank you… *click*

[Call Disconnected]

TS: Hahahahaha! Oh, man. Hey, did you guys hear all that? Hilarious, right?

TS: Hmm? You really think I should? I mean, he was pretty bent out of shape, but…

TS: Yeah, you’re right, he was a dickhead. Fuck ‘em! Literally!

[Enable Open Season?  Yes/No]

[Yes] *click*

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