THE DEVIL INSIDE ME “NEWPORT”

*Trigger Warning

“Newport” is the 1st Episodic in the Novel “The Devil Inside Me” by Joshua T. Berglan and Jessica Linn.

The story begins in Newport Beach, California as Josh is heading back home to Oklahoma City, anticipating the evening’s festivities that await him and his girlfriend.

The Devil Inside Me is Real Life/Twisted and is being released as a short film, audiobook, and book every Wednesday at 9 am Central on LiveManaWorldwide.org, the Live Mana Worldwide Multimedia Broadcast Network (found by downloading the e360tv app on ROKU, Amazon Fire, and Apple TV) and all of your favorite social media platforms.

Due to the graphic nature of the audio, and video, please do not allow children under 18 to watch without a parent. If you are sensitive to triggers and not ready to face past traumas, do not watch.

You have been warned, with love.

Joshua T Berglan & Jessica Linn

EPISODIC 1 – NEWPORT 

On my way back from Newport Beach California and I just downed my 6th Free drink in first-class heading back home to Oklahoma City. I was already getting anxious thinking about discovering new sex partners for my girlfriend and I but first I will need to pick up the normal 2 – 8 balls from my dealer. Now that I think of it I better get poppers, lube, and sex pills too before we started our hunt for playthings or human sex toys as I called them as soon as I landed. 

Cocaine, sex, and searching for additional sex partners had become our ritual 3 to 4 times a week when I was in town but when I was just coming back from long business trips away, those nights were always the most special. 

I loved my girlfriend, at least the way I understood love.. Which was if you let me do what I want, I will be nice to you. My girlfriend was the first woman I had ever been honest with about my sexual desires of not just me sleeping with other men, but also my passion for bringing other guys in to have sex with me and the woman I love. Then there was my cuck fetish which involved watching her be pleased by many men at a time.  

Cocaine fueled all of these desires and always made me want more. More of everything really. More coke, because I could never get enough (do not get me started about meth) and the only thing that made me stop was a nose bleed or not being able to breathe through my nose, or both. 

Cocaine and meth also made my thirst for sex unquenchable. It did not matter if we had just had 2 or 3 guys over, when they left, the hunt for more began immediately.  

I traveled a lot with my skincare business, always going to cool cities for weeks at a time like NYC, LA, Dallas, Miami, and Las Vegas. I always missed her on those trips because while I had fun working, frequenting bathhouses or going to sex parties I found off of sex apps and websites, I always imagined her there with me, and wanted her to experience the unsatisfiable but pleasure-filled debauchery I had gotten myself into. 

While I was fulfilling my desires with men, my craving for her being a part of it fueled my desire for others to ravage her even more than they were me. 

It was a thirst like a vampire must have when they taste the first drop of blood. 

Coming home to her brought the excitement that most people experienced waiting on the next Mike Tyson heavyweight title fight, except the only pain that would be delivered is the soreness experienced the next day or whenever the party ended. 

I started to get horrific anxiety in anticipation of seeing her and daydreaming of what she would wear for them and then I was struck with the numbing thought of blowing through 500,000 dollars in just a few months. The rage in my loins started to dwindle as I began to worry about how I could keep up this lifestyle of sex, drugs, and reckless spending.  

6 months before, I was sitting on over half a million dollars in my bank account from an inheritance that I believed was rightfully mine and now watching nearly a million dollars of investment money disappear than a hot rail of meth. While I never spent money on meth because I got it while hooking up off of sex apps, the combination of cocaine, sex clubs, spending recklessly and bad business decisions had me on the brink of losing everything again.  

I lost everything before from blowing money and cocaine which ended my first marriage and in the process of my return from 3 months in rehab, I fell in love with chemsex, which is meth and sex while seeing one of my “massage girl” friends the week I got back. This took my sex obsession over the edge because my friend allowed me to be me for only $200 a session. I became preoccupied with this new obsession and forgot all about being a father to my 2 newborn twins.  

The one right thing I did was give them up for adoption after not being able to pay for the insane amount of child and spousal support I was ordered to pay. 

Here I am again, now cognitive of watching the money disappear. What will I do? 

I knew I needed to do something bold but I am too drunk and now horny to care about that. 

I started looking through my phone at the videos and pictures I took from the night before at an orgy with a group of guys, a girl, and a transexual that arranged the meeting to get myself more hyped for the evening. 

I was glad that we would be doing blow tonight because the meth from the last few days caused me to eat up the inside of my mouth and snorting cocaine would be easier for me to handle, that is if my heart did not explode. 

Sex isnt as good on blow but I could not get my girlfriend to do meth, that is unless I slipped it to her without her knowing.

As I scrolled through my phone looking over the festivities one more time before I deleted the evidence to hide any trail of my cheating I stumbled upon a picture of my father.  

I hated him and I was disgusted at all he had done to me. I began to feel his hands around my throat as I heard the words, “you are not my son” over and over again as my mind went back to the night my freshman year in college when I quit caring about him and allowed myself to finally truly hate him for all that he was.  

My best friend and I were at a house party that night and as he was dropping me off, I saw that cops were surrounding my home. When I walked in the front door I saw that the couch was turned over, the grandfather clock that had been in my family for a lifetime was destroyed and there was broken glass everywhere. 

When the cops left, my father immediately started screaming at me with blind rage. He blamed me for the damage that was done and said one of my whores boyfriends had wrecked his home and he told me to leave. “Why dad? Why? I did not do this to you, I love you dad please stop. I don’t even have a whore right now. Stop it, dad, stop! Please! All I have ever done is try to make you happy and please you. I have only wanted to make you proud.”  

“You are not my son, get the f out of my home!” he said. 

I hated him and now I hated his wife for taking part of MY inheritance.  

F them all. 

That thought brought me back to my panic as I had to figure out how to stop hemorrhaging money and even more, I knew I needed to get the heck out of Oklahoma.  

Where should I go I wondered? 

“West” came to mind but I laughed it off because how cliche is that? “Go west young man”. In all seriousness, it is a bit ridiculous to run a skincare business in Oklahoma and if I move to a different city, a bigger city, maybe I can finally be free to be me. Maybe I will not have to hide my sexuality anymore and at least find out what I am really.. Is it the drugs that fuel my desires or is this really me?  

Every once in a while after a bad experience hooking up with strange men, I would question what I was doing and start to convince myself to stop. I would try and feed my mind with one of the devotions my mom would send but I just did not feel it. It would not take much, a couple of drinks, or seeing a picture that would awaken It enough to start taunting me with its seduction of the promise of pleasure and euphoria that was the one thing that brought me any peace.  

When I ignored It, It would taunt me more, and I could never function properly. When I neglected to give It attention, I was depressed, felt awkward, and had no joy. Happiness only came when I gave It what It wanted. I owed it to him, after all, he is who kept me safe after what happened as a child. He did take my pain away so who am I to deny it now? 

Giving It what it wanted always seemed to make everything else go ok, but those moments I tried to stop feeding it, made my life hell because all I could think about was what I heard each and every time I went to church. I was not religious but I did grow up going to church and now as an adult, I only attended to make my mother happy. I loved her and I never liked hurting her.  

Of course, as soon as I left the church, I was at the bar, and shortly after a drink or 2, doing blow, or meth to kick start the debaucherous evening.  

I grew up in a Baptist church growing up and all I heard was “gay people go to hell” sex is for a married man and woman” “fornicators!” Well, I liked having sex with anything that walked so where does that factor in? “No sex outside of marriage or you go to hell!” I heard over and over from the preacher man but he got caught stealing money from the church to buy his whore jewelry so what does he know? 

God didn’t keep me from getting molested by those men and my babysitter, so either God is not real or he does not give a crap about me.  

The plane landed and now I desperately needed blow. I was drunk from 8 airplane bottles of vodka and a little embarrassed about the warning I got from the flight attendant that I drank too much on the plane. I was told I cannot drink anymore like that on a plane and they wanted me to ensure I was not driving myself. 

I had been flying so much at this point that I had become friends with the flight crew, then again maybe they pitied me and felt like I needed to be mothered and were not really my friends. Either way, I needed cocaine and sent the text to place my order.