13 The Swanson Spa Female Leadership Retreat
"So let me get this straight." Rit said, rubbing his temples, "You were bathing using our cultured services with Rebecca.
The women came in, and you tried to escape, but Violet accidentally [bumped into you], aggressively slitting your throat."
"Yeah, it's funny how it happened hah haha!" Kline laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his head.
The two sat in Rit Manson's office, with the owner cross-verifying the story at his desk.
"I see." The businessman said, "And that's when you tried to leave. However, you forgot about the bloody towel and walked out looking like a serial killer."
"Hah haha. Yeah, funny, isn't it?" The hopeless virgin laughed awkwardly.
"And that's when you said, I quote, [this blood isn't what it looks like]." Rit chuckled ominously, "[I mean, it's definitely blood, but I promise I didn't kill anyone. Hah. Ha ha. Haha.]—end quote."
"Yeah. That was a showcase of my profound talent for awkwardness." Kline laughed, "I've turned it into an art form."
The businessman frowned, laced his fingers, and put his chin on top of them.
"Tell me, Kline." Rit said with eyes devoid of light, "Do you know what you've done wrong?"
"I used the bathing service when I wasn't gay?" The nervous virgin cringed.
The Swanson Resort and Spa owner scoff-laughed in disbelief. "After making as many mistakes as you have, you came out believing that using the bath was wrong? Are you mad?"
"Wait, there was something worse than that?" Kline dry-swallowed, baffled beyond repair.
"Is there anything worse, he asks…." Rit laugh-scoffed ominously, "Kline Noble.
From your account, the women consented to you bathing with them, and heavy steam prevented any woman from seeing a hard-on.
And yet, not only did you refuse, but you also told the women that it wasn't appropriate to do it [ever]!?"
"I…" The hopeless virgin began, opening and closing his mouth. He couldn't believe what he had just heard!
"Then four women begin fighting over you, and you slink away?" The businessman laugh-scoffed, "What type of low-grade Isekai women-dodging harem protagonist are you?"
"Did you just call me a women-dodging harem protagonist?" Kline asked, his eyes flashing with murder, "There are some lines people mustn't ever cross."
Rit opened his eyes, swirling with darkness and callousness, meeting the hopeless virgin's gaze. "You dodged three dozen naked women.
Then you dodged four beautiful women fighting over you because they exhibited mythical yandere traits. Yet here you are, claiming yourself a man of culture?"
The businessman narrowed his eyes deeply. "You disgust me."
"The women were comfortable bathing with me because they incorrectly believe I'm gay when I'm not." Kline laughed in disbelief.
"Allegedly." Rit said dryly, "All signs thus far have pointed toward their beliefs being well-founded."
The hopeless virgin's eyes flashed in a crazed light. "I'm a man of culture—"
"Allegedly." The businessman interjected.
"—but I'm not a creep." Kline said with a twitching cheek, "There's also a major difference between yanderes and real stalkers who mess with thermostats and cut your throat open."
"What difference?" Rit asked, not hiding his profound revulsion.
The hopeless virgin pursed his lips just as he began to speak. It was undeniable that the women exhibited yandere qualities IRL, but real life wasn't entertainment! Or maybe that was just his perverse justification.
"There is none." Kline scoff-laughed, "Hah. I can't believe I'm having this conversation with you. It's impossible to count how many things are wrong with your behavior."
"Do you disdain me for my flavor of cultured ideals, Kline?" Rit asked bluntly.
"I don't, and that bothers me." The vexed virgin spat.
"And that's the difference between us." The businessman asserted coldly, "I proudly disdain your [cultured] ideals."
Kline's eyes glazed over, staring at the man in resignation. "Is that all?"
"No—I refuse to give up on you." Rit laugh-scoffed, "That's why I'm putting you in Bell's group today to let you redeem yourself."
The hopeless virgin's heart pulsed violently. Something about being put into the same… [anything]... as Bell caused a physical reaction in his body.
It was similar to deja vu if the feeling was a two-pack-a-day smoker who drank whiskey for breakfast and vented its frustration out on him daily!
"Is there a problem with that?" Rit asked, narrowing his eyes.
"No…." Kline said, shaking his head, "It's just… why her? There is two others, so why Bell?"
"She's a honey pot." The businessman smiled, "If you're with her, the other three will show up. I guarantee it."
His statement left the handsome super virgin with a wry smile. "I understand."
Rit clapped and stood up. "Then it's been decided. Tonight, I want to read an article on the strong-willed women at the fourth annual Swanson Spa Female Leadership Retreat."
Kline sighed and stood up. "Understood."
…
-
"Virgil once wrote that [fortunate favors the bold]. Well, so do death, prisons, and unemployment lines. Boldness is quite popular when it comes to extreme consequences."
-
Kline sat on his bed with a laptop in his lap and a mega-sized bottle of lotion not far away. It had been a rough day, so he kept it close by.
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"However, mitigating negative consequences is easy with basic [environmental awareness].
For example, boldly asking a man if you can cuck their wife may bring you good fortune—if you're at a swinger party.
The same question guarantees negative consequences ranging from a minor beating to a lengthy prison sentence if you're [literally] anywhere else.
Similarly, you can win distinguished awards at Swanson Spa Female Leadership Retreat for activities carrying lengthy minimum prison sentences everywhere else.
Environment is everything."
-
While he didn't dislike the event, he wasn't fighting to stay there either. His day was [almost] good for an hour and quickly went downhill from there.
So he decided to vent his frustrations, consequences be damned.
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"Let me explain the Swanson Spa Female Leadership Retreat and what I'm doing here.
The event is a seven-day all-inclusive retreat at Swanson Spa and Resort, a high-end hotel and Hot Springs in Telluride, Colorado.
Participants get free baths, massages, manicures, pedicures, and body treatments during the evenings. They can also enjoy the natural hot springs, surrounded 360 degrees by colorful mountains.
Turning down an invitation to this retreat would be offensive.
That's a problem.
This retreat's allure has allowed this fanatical, sadomasochistic social justice emulating cult to trap and indoctrinate future female leaders with toxic ideological viewpoints for four years."
-
Kline cracked his neck, laced his fingers, and stretched his forearms. It was about to go down.
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"Since I'll be posting another six blogs on this event, it's important to note that the female empowerment taught here is [not] social justice—it's nazism.
Nazi!? You're a white cisgender male, Kline! So obviously, you'd believe that female empowerment is akin to nazism! Yeah, yeah, the patriarchy, blah-blah-blah.
A woman punctured my jugular vein before breakfast today. Instead of getting punished, she got a [female empowerment] award for showcasing that women can win physical fights against males.
She even taught a workshop on how to do it. Tell me, Megan. Does that sound like social justice to you?"
-
"Let's see you counter that one!" Kline chuckled ominously, "I kid. People like you have a half-baked answer for [everything]. It doesn't matter, I'm writing for reasonable people, anyway."
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"If you think I'm gaslighting to manipulate my reader's emotions to make social equality and dominant identities sound like nazism, save your breath.
Today, I attended a certification course called [The Art of Gaslighting], where we studied Hitler's autobiography Mein Kampf, which explicitly outlined his plans to attack Russia. Despite that, he convinced Joseph Stalin to be his friend and ally.
That's the level of gaslighting taught here—and why I'm calling it nazism.
I'm sure people will scream [fake news!], so I attached a scan of my gaslighting certification and a video of a woman getting hers.
No, it's not doctored. The video is on the Resort's website, and I've attached a link to where you can buy the Swanson Brand copy of Mein Kampf she's holding in the picture. Let it go—this is nazism."
-
Kline smiled in satisfaction, cracking his neck. "Okay, playtime's over; let's get down to business."
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"Let's talk about the official mission of the Swanson Spa Female Leadership Retreat. It aims to teach and train a new generation of powerful dominatrices in society.
Don't believe me? See the NSFW video below.
It showcases the [Steps to Leadership] workshop, which involves females stepping on males while degrading them verbally—in latex while holding a whip. Heels were optional.
Since there are no males at the retreat, the owner of Swanson Spa and Resort volunteers to be the exclusive training subject every year. Why not hire someone? Look for yourself.
I recorded the attached video 29 participants in, after two hours of brutal stepping.
Rit Manson had a dislocated shoulder and three broken fingers by that point. You'd never guess that, looking at his creepy smile that screams [people do drugs for a reason!].
If this video isn't proof, I don't know what is.
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Kline scoffed and played the video again, examining the mixed pain and overwhelming pleasure in the creepy bastard's eyes. "I can't believe this creep told me I was uncultured. It gives me shivers."
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"There is overwhelming evidence that the Swanson Spa Female Leadership Retreat is a continuation of an experimental Third Reich sex-positivity class.
So if you support these practices, you're prime nazi cult material and belong in this dystopia. Welcome home.
Just kidding! This retreat only invites elites who provide tangible value to the world, so I'm afraid you're shit out of luck. #bummer"
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The hopeless virgin snickered to himself immaturely before looking down. "Okay, let's wrap this up."
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"Now that I've explained the Swanson Spa Female Leadership Retreat let me explain what I'm doing here: I don't know.
I'm technically here to write about the event. This blog is the first of seven I will write, assuming I don't die from another neck wound and my Gonzo journalism doesn't get me kicked out.
However, if you're wondering why I—a male—got chosen for this role, your guess is as good as mine. I was invited here without any information other than my technical role.
Knowing my luck, it's terrible. So make sure to subscribe to get the juicy tragic details delivered directly to your DMs.
Wish me luck surviving this place.
Sincerely, Bad Luck Kline"
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Kline hit the post button, closed the laptop, and laid down on the bed with his hands behind his head. "I hope she won't ignore me all day again tomorrow."
