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Adoremed

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How to Pronounce She Wants To Be Adored
How to Pronounce Liberty gives an inexpressible Charm to all our Enjoyments. It imparts a Relish to the most indifferent Pleasure, and renders the highest Gratification the more consummately delightful. It is the Refinement of Life; it sooths and alleviates our Toils; smooths the rugged Brow of Adversity, and endears and enhances every Acquistion in their Carriage; something of grandeur and Sublimity in their Appearance, resulting from their Freedom and Independence, that is never to be met with in those dreary Abodes, where the embittering Cirumstances of a precarious Property, mars the Relish of every Gratification, and damps the most magnanimous Spirits. They can think for themselves; publish their Sentiments, and animadvert on Religion and Government, secure and unmolested. ... But in absolute Monarchies, the whole Country is overspread with a dismal Gloom. Slavery is stamp'd on the Looks of the Inhabitants; and Penury engraved on their Visages, in strong and legible Characters. To prevent Complaints, the Press is prohibited; and a Vindication of the natural Rights of Mankind is Treason. Every generous Spirit is broke and depressed: Human Nature is degraded, insulted, spurn'd, and outrag'd: The lovely Image of GOD, is defaced and disfigur'd, and the Lord of Creation treated like the bestial Herd. The liberal Sciences languish: The politer Arts droop their Heads: Merit is banished to Cells and Deserts; and Virtue frowned into Dungeons, or dispatched to the Gallies: Iniquity is exalted: Goodness trod under Foot: Truth perverted; and the barbarous Outrages of Tyranny, sanctifi4ed and adored. The Fields lie waste and uncultivated: Commerce is incumbered with supernumerancy Duties: The Tyrant riots in the Spoils of his People; and drains their Purses, to replenish his instantiate Treasury. He wages War against his own Subjects. Does any one think the above Representation, the Result of a roving Fancy, or figur'd beyond the Life; let him take a Survey of Rome; o'er-while the Nurse of Heroes, and the Terror of the World; but now the obscene Haunt of sequestered Bigots, and effemiated Slaves. Where are not her Scipios, and Tullys, her Brutuses, and her Catos, with other Names are equal Lustre, who plann'd her Laws , and fought her Battles, during her Freedom and Independence? Alas! they are succeeded by cloistered Monks and castrated Musicians, in Subjection to a filthy old Harlot, that pretends to a Power of devouring her Mediator, and claims a Right to eat up her People. Let him survey all Italy, once the Seat of Arts and Arms, and every Thing great and valuable; now the joyless Theatre of Oppression and Tyranny, Supersitition and Ignorance. Let him behold all this; and when he has finished his Survey, then let him believe and tremble. But far otherwise, is the Condition of a free People. Under the mild and gentle Administration of a limited Prince, every Thing looks cheerful and happy, smiling and serene. Agriculture is encouraged, and proves the annual Source of immense Riches to the Kingdom: The Earth opens her fertile Bosom to the Plough-share, and luxuriant Harvests diffuse Wealth and Plenty thro' the Land: The Fields stand thick with Corn: The Pastures smile with Herbage: The Hills and Vallies are cover'd with Flocks and Herds: Manufacturies flourish; and unprecarious Plenty recompenses the Articficer's Toil: In a Word, Nothing is seen but universal Joy and Festivity. Such is the Happiness of the People, under the blissful Reign of a good King. But do they get a Prince, whose Heart is poison'd with Regard to regal Authority,, and who vainly imagines; that the Grandeur of Princes consists in making themselves feared; and accordingly plays the devil in the Name of the Lord: They boldly assert their Rights, and call aloud for Justice; They cannot, they will not be enslaved. Sooner shall the royal Sinner have the Honour of Martyrdom, and the Lord's Anointed perish for his Iniquity, than the whole Frame of the Government be unhinged and dissolved...] ... How signal is our Happiness, in being blessed with a Prince, form'd from the friend of the Nation, and the defender of the Liberties of Europe! A Prince, who despises the Thought of placing his Grandeur in the Violation of the Laws; but is nobly ambitions of reigning in the Hearts of his People: A Prince, who invariably exerts his native Greatness of Soul, and all his inherent and hereditary Virtues, in the Support of Truth, Religion and Liberty: A Prince, in fine, unemulous of arbitrary Sway; but ardently aspiring after those brighter Trophies, that are earn'd in the Paths of Virtue and heroic Deeds; in relieving the Injured, protecting the Oppressed, and by a diffusive Benevolence, promoting the Happiness of Mankind. Long, oh long may he still adron the Throne of his Ancestors! and when the Sovereign Disposer of Events, shall at last, to the keen and universal Affliction of his People, translate him to the Possession of a Crown, eternal and incorruptible; we may presage, (which will be the only Consideration capable of alleviating our Sorrow,) the greatest Glory, and the brightest Triumphs, from his Royal Highness's eminent Virtues; whose future Reign promises the most distinguished Prosperity to the Nation; and will exhibit to Britain, a Monarch, from his benevolent Disposition, and princely Education, the Father of his People, as well as a shining Ornament to that illustrious Family, of which we will have already seen two Heroes on the British Throne; the Scourges of Tyrants, and the Assertors of Liberty.
How to Pronounce It was the end of the day and Mark was a bit tired but eager to get on his computer and check the messages on the dating site. In recent days he had sent quite a few messages out to various people and had gotten a few replies. He had done his best to follow up on every single one of them. He wasn't one for Tinder as he was looking for a legitimate, thought out relationship with someone rather than just a quick hook up. Looking at all of the apps that were offered he didn't feel that many were very good. They all seemed to be based around quick relationships and hook ups. Instead he focused his time on building a solid profile and responding on a computer so that he could properly read and respond to each girl. However with the best of intentions things weren't going very well. He went to his messages and found no new replies. Over the course of the last week of the few girls that responded to him fewer and fewer kept the conversation going. Mark had made sure to try different tactics with each one all based on their profiles and messages. The girls that seemed to send longer more thought out messages he went along with and tried his best to have a solid back and forth conversation to get to know them better, these usually lasted a few days before asking for a number or asking them out. The ones with shorter more to the point messages he would jump on within a day. He would even reverse it a few times for good measure. He expected denials but instead would just have the girl drop the conversation entirely, mostly only a few messages in and even before he could ask them out. There was one girl however that he seemed to have hit it off with pretty well, they had been talking for close to a week now and she seemed to share most of his interests and hobbies. It was almost like talking to himself. Earlier in the week he had asked if she wanted to meet up, not long after she had said yes. She went on to say she'd let him know about the weekend. Mark figured if he had to go months of flaky people denying him and ghosting him for one to say yes it might be worth it. However it seemed that he had once again been ghosted. It was Friday now and his last messages to her was on Wednesday saying: "No problem, let me know which day works for you. I'm free the whole weekend and I have a few ideas for places we could go." When she didn't respond to it on Wednesday he followed up with a quick message to try and keep the conversation going in the meantime about one of their shared interests. He had hoped Friday would bring her back to the conversation being the start of the weekend but no. Nothing he could do now, it was pretty obvious the girl on the other side wasn't going to respond. He scrolled through his inbox. It was filled with failures on every level. He closed his web browser and sat there in defeat. He pulled out his phone. Perhaps a change was in order. Maybe he should give apps like Tinder a try, it couldn't hurt. Sure it was more based around hook ups and casual sex but perhaps he could find like minded people on there or try and start something more serious from something casual. He quickly downloaded the app and opened it up. Mark thought to himself, "This is it, right now I'm gonna make a nice, catchy profile but keep it simple. It's going to be good and its going to be appealing. People will swipe right for me and may even initiate the conversation". He opened it up and was prompted to sign in with Facebook. He quickly pressed it and bare bones profile came up. However something was off, where Mark, 27 should be there was Melissa, 22. And instead of his Facebook profile's picture there was a hot blonde in a skimpy dress showing off her big ass with a duck face. Mark couldn't help but laugh, he quickly signed out of it and tried again. However it was the same thing when he signed back in. This was getting weird. He uninstalled the app and reinstalled it. Same thing. What the fuck? As unlikely as it sounded maybe this chick used his phone to check her Facebook and forgot to sign out. He opened up Facebook and sure enough a Melissa account popped up. He scrolled through the account. This girl was smoking hot but didn't have much else going on. Her account was filled with stupid status' ranging from how she can't find the right guy to saying how horny she was. She seemed to have no filter or she was fishing for a fuck. As hot as it was this Melissa was not what Mark was into. Any of his friends would ridicule him for that sort of sentiment but he just wasn't interested. He quickly signed out of the account and attempted to sign into his but was unable. He tried resetting his password but it said his email didn't match any accounts. What was going on? During all of this Mark didn't take notice that he was beginning to change. Fixated on trying to troubleshoot his social media problems he had failed to realize that his hair was now the same color blonde and was slowly inching down towards his shoulders. Mark shut his phone off and turned it back on. Before he could do anything Tinder reopened to this Melissa's profile. There were more pictures now of her. They were all very seductive or slutty ranging from her laying ass up on a beach in a small bikini to her taking a selfie in a bathroom mirror in nothing but a towel. Mark was getting a little nervous something was going on. He put his phone down and stood up, that's when he felt his hair hit against him. He quickly moved his hand and felt it. Immediately he ran to the bathroom and looked into the mirror. Starring back at him was the face of Melissa. Holy fuck! How could he not have felt this? His face was now so soft, so clean. His eyes were now light blue and surrounded by eyeliner. His lips were small but plump, a light pink lipstick on them. This wasn't good, this couldn't be happening. How was this possible? Suddenly he felt a slight tingling in this throat and before he could figure out what it was his Adam's Apple was gone. Mark knew what that meant. He had to do something. Tinder! That's what was causing all of this, at least it was what likely started it. He ran back to his phone which now was in a pink phone case with a tassel of beads hanging from a small loop on one of the corners. He picked it up and opened it. His background was now Melissa on a beach hugging another girl. Both of their breasts pushing up against one another. No! Mark thought, this has to stop now! He pressed down on Tinder and deleted it. The icon disappeared only for it to reappear immediately. He tried again, it just kept reinstalling. Shit this was bad. He suddenly felt like his view was lowering, sure enough he was losing height. He went from 6'1 to 5'4 in a matter of moments. What can I do? I need to do something! Mark thought to himself. Panic was beginning to set in. An idea. He quickly went to his computer and woke it up. His background another slutty beach picture. He went to his dating site and sure enough his account had changed also to that of Melissa's. He quickly read through her information. This girl was only out for sex. Her profile told basic information about her. She worked at a salon and in her spare time loved going to bars, dancing, clubbing and concerts. He scrolled down to the looking for section "guys ages 21-40 for new friends, sex and short term dating. Mark began to really panic now. Quickly he tried to edit the page info back to his old one but each time he finished a section and saved it would revert back to Melissa's. He opened up Tinder again and her profile was filled out now. Heyyyy I'm Melissa. I work at a salon and am an expert at all things makeup. I lovvveee going to clubs, bars and concerts. I'm just a party girl at heart :) <3 Give me your best pickup lines. Buy me drinks and take me to a show and I promise to make it up to you ;) If you treat me right your biggest concern should be your place or mine? As Mark read this he felt his whole body begin to burn. It was getting really hot and his clothes started to hurt on his skin. He tried to resist it but relented after a moment. Quickly he stripped all of them off and felt immediate relief. To his horror though as he looked down he couldn't see a single hair on his body. His legs and arms were now slim and smooth and he had a perfect hourglass figure. He looked up and saw that his room was now adorned with girls clothing, makeup and pictures of Melissa and her friends. "No! No! Stop, please stop!" Mark picked up his laptop and threw it to the floor. It smashed and broke into numerous pieces. He went to his phone to do the same but saw that his laptop was back on his desk in perfect condition. His dating profile open to the inbox which was filled with new messages. Mark couldn't help but take a look. They were all filled with "Hey baby" and "Damn you're sexy". Nothing even remotely civil or nice. These guys were treating Melissa like a slut... because she was one. No! Mark slammed the laptop shut and stepped back only to trip onto his bed. He landed on it but felt that his ass had absorbed the most of it. He turned over and saw that it was now enormous. "I didn't want this!" He felt a tingle in his groin as his penis slowly withered away as it was replaced with a wet but well manicured vagina. Mark started to feel funny. He felt heavy in the chest and sure enough two D breasts slowly rose out of him. "No, I didn't even want to use Tinder. Please don't change me into her! I don't want to be a slut! I just wanted a girlfriend! I just wanted..." Mark suddenly felt different, almost lighter. All of what he was concerned and focused on before was gone. All that was worrying her now was what, or who, she was doing tonight and what she was going to wear. Melissa laid in her bed. It was Friday night and no one had asked her out! Was she not pretty enough? She was certainly horny enough, why hadn't any guys messaged her yet? She looked to her phone next to her and opened up Tinder. Her profile was good but it was missing something. A catchy picture. She thought for a second and then figured what she'd do. She lifted the phone up above her and covered her bare tits with her free hand. She smirked and took the picture. No that didn't come out right. She tried a few more times and finally found the right one. Quickly she added it to her profile and began swiping right on only the hot guys. In no time she had a bunch of matches. The first one was from some sort of ripped jock named Derek who messaged "I don't know what your initials are but mine are DTF". She replied "Really?" He quickly responded with "Oh yeah you know it." Melissa smiled and responded with "We'll why don't you come over here and prove it, here's my address. I'll be waiting". She closed the phone and stood up. Now, what was she going to wear when this guy showed up. After all she wanted to make it hard for him. That was half the fun.