Data reclusa

Loxosceles reclusa, also known as the brown recluse or “fiddleback” spider, is a common inhabitant of homes and yards in the southwestern United States.Related species occur in temperate regions throughout the world. Bites generally occur when the victim inadvertently comes into physical contact with the spider while sleeping, moving boxes, firewood, etc, or getting dressed. Disclaimer: ITIS taxonomy is based on the latest scientific consensus available, and is provided as a general reference source for interested parties. However, it is not a legal authority for statutory or regulatory purposes. While every effort has been made to provide the most reliable and up-to-date information available, ultimate legal requirements with respect to species are contained in ... More Facts The 'Reclusa' in Reclusawall is based on the English word 'Recluse'., The in-game model for standard Reclusawalls was revamped to its current design by Homestuck_Jake413 on July 18, 2020. Previously, in-game, a model created by Xtriel was used. Redirecting to Whether you're new to Destiny 2 or you've been playing since Forsaken, you've definitely heard of the Recluse. You've probably heard it, too, since everyone and their dog uses it, and with good ... Recluse, WY City Data Recluse, WY is a city with great restaurants, attractions, history and people. There are around 149 people who live in Recluse and approximately 33,698 who live in Campbell County. We want to help people moving to or living in Recluse to understand the dynamics of the city, so we have put together information gathered from ... The spider species Loxosceles reclusa, commonly known as Brown Recluse, belongs to the genus Loxosceles, in the family Sicariidae.Loxosceles reclusa spiders have been sighted 96 times by contributing members. Based on collected data, the geographic range for Loxosceles reclusa includes 1 countries and 14 states in the United States. Loxosceles reclusa is most often sighted indoors, and during ... The Baylor College of Medicine has sequenced and annotated the Loxosceles reclusa genome as part of the i5k pilot project. This dataset presents the Loxosceles reclusa genome v1.0. This assembly version is the pre-release version, prior to filtering and quality control by the National Center for Biotechnology Information's GenBank resource.This dataset is free for all use. Thus we generate sequence data to enable the Allpaths assembly. As of Nov 2011 this is: - 40X genome coverage in 180bp insert library (100bp reads forward and reverse); and 40X 3kb insert data. To enable better scaffolding and local gap filling we additionally generate 500bp, 1kb, 2kb, and 8kb insert sizes at > 20X coverage. Selected from data included with permission and copyrighted by First Databank, Inc. This copyrighted material has been downloaded from a licensed data provider and is not for distribution, except ...


2020.08.13 09:52 KrappyRedditor Africa.

God, I miss Africa.
I was in Namibia for a stint in the early 2000s after I finished my geology program. Chevron sent me out there with a team to try and suss out oil - those rich fucks were absolutely convinced Namibia had oil, and we were of course to stake our rightful, god-given American claim to that sweet, black gold.
So I was out there for about six months.
I mostly hung out with my team and other Western folk. Turns out, locals in Namibia - at least the bumfuck areas we were in - were one of two things: indigenous and rightfully skeptical of the white man, or white descendents of Dutch colonists. Turns out there are a shitload of Nazis in Namibia. Not my cup of tea. So I hung with my team for the most part.
My team was a total fucking sausage fest. Not a lot of female geologists; even fewer willing to scout out oil fields in the middle of a recently developed nation with less than stellar attitudes towards women.
Still, we had a couple. There was Diane, who was the camp manager and kind of a fucking bitch if I'm honest - real strict about curfews, and tried to tell us we couldn't have any booze on base (which just meant we got very clever about hiding it). Stereotypical "Karen", haircut and all. We're all pretty sure she was sleeping with her supervisor, too, but that's neither here nor there.
And then there was Geena. Ah, Geena... Geena was a grad student intern with Chevron - gotta love American corporatism - and was tasked alongside me to try and find this liquid gold. Seismology was her focus, and seismologists are exactly who we need to try to pinpoint where the oil resides in the Earth. Geena was smart, she did her job damn well, and...well, Geena was a fucking knockout. The other guys in the team knew it, too, but the thing about Geena was that she towered over most of them, and insecure dudes don't like it when a woman is taller than they are, for some reason. So despite her initial worries about Namibian locals treating her poorly, the brunt of the abuse she received was from her own damn team. Assholes.
I sure didn't mind, though. She could tower over me all she wanted.
So we're about four months into the project, and we have some good leads and, most importantly, the fucking permits from the government of Namibia to go check some out some sites with the vibroseis - big trucks with what amounts to a big fucking vibrator on it to shake the shit out of the ground beneath, to give us seismology data that people like Geena and myself analyze to see if there's a chance of there being oil.
Which is exactly what we did. It was a whole ordeal. Vibroseis are heavy and cumbersome, and not exactly roomy inside, so we had to make a train of sorts, towing two week's worth of supplies for the sites Geena and I were tasked with. We were to go, set up camp, run the vibros, and basically sit and fucking wait before moving on to the next site. Rinse and repeat until we get the data and head back.
The sites were several hours away at the speeds we were able to drive with, and with the amount of gear we had to load. Even the temporary camps had to be heavy duty - winds in the Namibian wilderness get insanely strong, and they kick up a ton of dust. Now, thankfully, geologists are no strangers to dust, but our technical equipment wasn't exactly immune. So we had to make sure our camp setup was as dust proof as the endless, but still somehow fucking stingy, pockets of Chevron would allow.
So we had to drive sixish hours out into the middle of absolutely god damned nowhere - I'm talking nothing, it's just us, some old school GPSes to help us navigate, gas generators (fitting), emergency solar panels (ironic), and satellite phones that might work to let the team know where to find our bodies if we pray hard enough. Not a soul in sight. Not too many animals, either, but the animals that were there could kill us in a fucking second. They gave us rifles, but we're pretty certain that was just to make us feel better about dying a gruesome death. The Namibian wilderness was pretty harsh.
The sunsets were pretty incredible, though.
We made sure to stock up on party supplies in Windhoek - food and booze, of course. Lots of booze.
If geologists can do one thing, it's drink. It's how we cope with the reality of our careers furthering the fucking ruthless oil machine that pays our fat, fat salaries.
And that's what we'd do, every evening - we'd let the vibros run, and we'd lean up against the habitat, watch the sunset, and get absolutely fucking shitfaced. Pitifully I'd also hope that she'd get desperate enough for affection that she'd touch me, and, well... let's just say it had been a while since I had any meaningful female attention at that point in my life. Geology is a sausage fest, and all the "good" women are taken. C'est la fucking vie.
But there was one night where shit got weird. In good ways, and in very bad ways. And that's what we're all here for, right? Where shit. Gets. Weird.
So picture this, y'all.
It was the start of the second week. We had just set up camp at the next site. There were forecasted heavy winds in the late evening, but otherwise clear skies; we took advantage of the calm before the storm and did the usual: binge drink, watch the sunset, and laugh at how fucking stupid and chauvinistic our male colleagues were. And of course about how much of a fucking bitch Diane was. Fucking Diane.
One of the other fun activities we would engage in was taking a blacklight and looking for gnarly scorpions. Oh boy, Namibia had scorpions, and they glew like fucking uranium when you shone some UV light on em. It was a blast. Neither of us knew dick about bugs, but it was still fun to look at them and try to determine how dead we would be if we pissed them off enough.
So we had watched the sun set, and done our scorpion hunting. It was beautifully dark; the stars shone so, so brightly in the Namibian wilderness. Truly unbelievable, like nothing I've ever seen in my life. Geena too. We just laid there on the cold, hard dirt, staring at the stars, drunk out of our minds, talking shit about our dirtbag colleagues, and admiring the cosmos above us.
I was too drunk - or perhaps drunk enough - on the liquid courage from Windhoek, and I finally made a move on Geena. I still don't know if this was a good idea. But I still cannot say that I regret what I did.
Laying there next to her, admiring the stars and our mutual seething hatred of our fucking idiot colleagues, I grabbed her hand. I just grabbed it. What's the worst that could happen? She was slim and fit and still outweighed me by at least 20 pounds [~9kg 😉], she could hand my ass to me if she wanted, and she knew it. But I felt something there, and maybe it was desperation on my part. Maybe I was drunk off my own stupidity. But I went for it. I just wanted some companionship if I'm being honest; anything further than that would be a bonus. So I reached out, I squeezed her hand, cold from the desert chill.
She hesitated a bit, but grabbed back.
That felt real nice.
"Yaknow, Geena, I couldn't ask for a better seismologist to accompany my dumb ass out here in the middle of fucking nowhere. You're a good egg. It's nice to have someone with a fucking brain to talk to for once."
And as dark as the night was, I'll never forget the smile she gave me, illuminated by the shining stars above, moonlight glistening in her eyes, casting gentle shadows on that face I so desperately wanted to be close to my own.
"Thank you. I really like you, too."
She scooted closer to me, rustling up dirt and gravel beneath her, laying her pretty little head on my shoulder. Ohhhh, it was happening. I hope. Maybe she's just friendly....fuck no! It was finally fucking happening. Diane would surely kill us if she found out, but Diane can suck my entire fucking asshole. I'll fart in her goddamn mouth, FUCK Diane.
Geena's hair just felt so soft in between my fingers, even if it hadn't been properly washed since last week. We both surely smelled like unwashed ass and shit. But in that moment, her scent was like a field of fucking roses to me. I inhaled hard. I'm pretty sure she noticed. I'm also pretty sure she didn't mind.
The liquid courage spoke thru me once more.
I'll never forget the moment I swallowed all of my nerves and kissed Geena on her forehead. I'll never forget the way she looked right at me afterwards. Smiling at me, as if to say "is that all?"
I'll never forget how good she tasted. How soft and passionate her kisses were with me. Her hands soon grasping at my clothes, working to remove them from my body as my own hands opted to simply go underneath hers. Feeling the wet folds between her legs, feeling how easily my fingers entered her, remembering how she'd moan into my ear as she grabbed onto me with her dusty hand; but god, it felt as pure as ever. How her nipples felt in my mouth after she undressed for me, how she delighted in how I nipped and sucked on them, how she would vocalize her pleasure as I'd plant kisses down her body; how she would squirm and writhe beneath my touch when I'd tease her with my tongue, when I'd take her clit in my mouth, when I'd delve my tongue inside of her; how her hands would pull on my dirty, unwashed hair, how her thighs would squeeze my face; the sound of her voice when she would moan out, when she'd tell me she was going to come, when she told me to stop because she wanted to come with me inside of her. The tight, wet warmth of her around me, her body's convulsions around me, her fingernails leaving her marks all over my back, how with every fucking thrust it felt like she would squeeze me, suck me, coaxing my own desire from me. How it felt to release inside of her. How she relished in the feeling so much she climaxed again with me.
Thank fuck she took birth control.
But you know what I'll NEVER forget? What is literally impossible for me to forget?
The fucking spider.
The FUCKING spider.
As if to ruin our fucking fun, I swear to God, this piece of shit arachnid appears out of the goddamn sand. Fucking thing must have been there the whole time, and I guess our drunken, passionate desire finally pushed it to its limits.
I'll NEVER forget the needle-like sensations of that motherfucker tagging me in the leg.
The thing is, it hardly even hurt. I hardly even saw the bitch who bit me. But I DO remember grabbing the flashlight, and Geena grabbing a jar to catch the son of a bitch with, just in case we needed it for medical purposes.
I remember looking at it underneath one of our dissection scopes.
Six eyes. The fuck? I thought spiders had eight eyes?
The next few days were pretty awkward. We didn't talk much. I thought the alcohol got the better of us that night. Neither of us really had the nerve to talk about the elephant in the room. The white hot, burning, passionate, dripping wet, diamond hard elephant in the room.
My leg was fucking killing me, too. We had cleaned it and bandaged it as best as we could, given our first aid kit, but god damn. It was killing me. Not a lot we could do, though, and I could still walk and drive, so no point in turning back now. I wasn't dead or dying.
Fuck it.
So we moved on, silently, to our next site.
The pain in my leg continued to increase in intensity.
I continued to ignore it.
We set up camp, making small talk, but nothing like it was before. At this point, I felt like I fucked it all up. I was swearing off drinking (for the thousandth time in my life, of course), the usual pathetic single male bullshit.
Then it was time to change the bandages on my legs.
As soon as Geena pulled them off, the fucking flies began to swarm. Landing all over the festering wound. Bastards...
She did her best - bless her - to clean it (and my god, 95% ethanol burns like hell on a necrotizing wound), shooing the flies away as best as she could, before replacing the bandages.
We pressed on.
The awkwardness subsided.
We talked about the other night. We got to a level place. "I don't regret it, I just don't know if I want to do it again". That sort of shit. Whatever.
The next day, though. Like night and fucking day. My leg didn't hurt anymore. I assumed Geena had worked some god damned womanly magic on me. Something my drooling, horny, neanderthal brain just couldn't possibly comprehend.
"Genie, my leg feels SO much better's like I don't even have a wound there. You did something REALLY right, I think."
Despite my excitement, however, Geena only expressed concern.
"I think we need to take a look again..."
So we went about our day, not to dirty up the wound any more than it already was. Set up the vibros. Settled down with our possibly contaminated Windhoek booze. She began to undress the wound.
Her voice had a twinge of delight in it. I was expecting very good news.
She pulled the bandage back.
I'll still never forget what I saw.
Maggots. Dozens of them. Eating away at my fucking flesh. Down to the god damned BONE. You could see BONE. I couldn't fucking make this up if I tried.
They had eaten away at the nerves themselves. That's why I couldn't fucking feel anything. I thought I was getting better, but the reality was, I was possibly going to lose my fucking leg.
I'll never forget her eyes. How her pupils expanded as if she had seen a billion fucking dollars in front of her, free for the taking.
I'll never forget how she didn't hesitate for a fucking second to plant her mouth directly on the necrotizing flesh on my leg.
My pain receptors were killed, yes, but I could still feel pressure. I could still feel touch. I just, thankfully, was numbed to the pain.
She began to suck on the wound.
I'll always remember her face when she broke from my leg, looked up at me, and smiled.
Maggots in her teeth. Still alive. Wriggling.
She was ENJOYING this.
She fucking LOVED it.
She sucked out every single one of these bastard maggots. Presumably, she swallowed some of them. Whole? I'm not even sure. It didn't seem like she chewed.
The next thing I knew, she had pinned me down and straddled me on the cold, abrasive dirt of the Namibian wilderness. I had never seen a look on a woman before like the look I had seen on her face. Crazed. Hungry. Lustful. Full of fucking venom.
She pulled fucking Paracord out of her pocket and bound my hands to the tie-down anchors of the habitat. She bound my ankles to each other. I was completely overpowered by her. Paralyzed by fear, and, disgustingly, shamefully, excitement.
I still have scars on my wrists and ankle from how tightly she bound me down; I still have limited feeling in my left hand from how she had positioned me.
What follows is still such a fucking blur to me. It's like a dream. But I have reason to know for sure it happened.
She pulled my pants down. I was already halfway hard, despite my logical mind protesting what the fuck was going on.
The next thing I know, her mouth, her fucking maggot filled mouth, is surrounding my cock; I can feel the wriggling larvae in her mouth, the sensations disgusting but titillating at the same time. I try to tell myself not to enjoy it, but I can't help but get harder. Her tongue is magic as it circles around me while she sucks and teases me; her hands cupping my balls, her fingers pressing my perineum, those fucking maggots, I swear to God, nibbling on my fucking skin. SHE KEPT THEM IN HER MOUTH FOR ME.
God, I didn't want to cum.
And I didn't.
She didn't let me. I don't know if she had been around the block, or if she had read too much fucking Cosmo, or what, but she knew. She knew I was about to blow. And so she stopped. She removed her disgusting, dirty, maggot filled mouth from my cock, and removed her pants.
I will NEVER. FORGET. What she did next.
Looking me straight in the eye, she brought her hands up to her mouth. Slowly, deliberately, she spit out the maggots into her hand. She presented them to me; she wanted me to see their live bodies wriggling around in her hands. Well, mostly live. Some had been crushed as collateral damage during her depraved act of oral servitude towards me.
She then takes them all in one hand, and...
Fuck. It's still so hard for me to write out.
It's so unreal.
She shoved them inside of herself.
The sounds that came from god.
I had never seen a woman so lustful in my life.
Those maggots may very well have been eating her alive from the inside out, and she fucking loved it.
She showed me.
She forced me to see.
She forced her maggot infested pussy into my mouth.
I did what I had to do. I hated it. But I would be lying if I said I didn't love how sweet her wetness tasted in that moment. She was so, so, so fucking wet.
I'm pretty sure I ate at least one fucking maggot at that point.
Not that I had much a choice.
I don't know how many times she came. She didn't say. I just know my face was fucking drenched. She smelled like sweat mixed with dirty, unwashed pussy - a scent I had grown to adore - but mixed with the smell of necrotizing flesh.
She smelled like death.
I smelled like death.
I had death juices all over my fucking face.
She dismounted my face and grabbed my - horribly, ashamedly - rock hard fucking cock, and rubbed it against her. All around her, focusing on her clit, for her pleasure, and teasing, letting me inside briefly, only to take me out and continue rubbing, grinding against me, those fucking maggots wriggling and nibbling the flesh of both me and her.
My god, the sounds she made.
She was so fucking wet. So, so, so fucking wet. Everywhere between her legs was drenched; lubricated.
Next thing I know she's taking me inside of her. But I don't feel the maggots. I don't feel the wriggling. The sensation is tight in the entrance, but looser past that.
She's put me in her ass, using no lube other than her own, generated from the depraved, degenerate juices those fucking maggots, this fucking situation, and me? I guess? Have inspired in her.
My god.
I smelled it.
And I HATE myself for loving it.
Her ass was so tight.
It was not clean.
I know she left her disgust on me.
She didn't care.
After a few minutes of eternity deep in her ass, she dismounts me. She sucked me clean, savoring the depravity, forcing me to share the flavor with a rough, deep, disgustingly passionate kiss; she tasted bitter, but the passion overwhelmed my hesitations. I feel myself entering her maggot infested pussy, the wretched creatures wriggling and stimulating us both, nipping at us from inside of her; the sensations overwhelming me entirely; I feel her climax hard against me, her muscles contracting against me so tightly, begging me to release inside of her.
I oblige.
I have no choice.
I fucking cum inside of that wretched pussy, drowning these Dipteran larvae with my hot seed.
I hoped they liked it.
I fucking hate how much I did.
Things were, surprisingly enough, much less awkward after that night. We finished up that site, and packed up to leave early; my leg was clearly not doing well, and we got rush orders to a Windhoek hospital to assess the situation.
I had to have that leg amputated, unfortunately.
The fucker who bit me was eventually identified as a Hexophthalma hahni, the six eyed sand spider, an African cousin of Loxosceles reclusa, the brown recluse spider. African blowflies had colonized the flesh, laying their eggs as their larvae consume dying mammalian tissue.
I was released from the project a month early. We never found any oil. Geena got her MS in geology.
Every now and then she will send me photos of herself, infested with some disgusting, wretched larvae in her pussy.
I never reply.
But I always cum so fucking hard.
I look at my stump where my right leg should be and smile everyday.
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Management of Brown Recluse Spider Bites in Primary Care ...

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