Chat - Write - Another "Whatever" Thread

RedHairedandFriendly

Too much red on Red?
Joined
Apr 20, 2005
Posts
112,724
It may get moved later to AmPics, SRPs, or somewhere else, or it may never be moved and just sit here in the playground to be used and abused by me as well as others (I hope by others). But whatever happens, I do hope that when folks see a picture or post one, that they do so and write a little something that goes with it. NOT a BIG something - a Little something.

If you feel a picture needs a story, perhaps you'll pick it up and you will write it or you and someone else will over on the SRP forum, but not here. This is just for if you're bored and want to write a quickie, or if you want to chat about some other person's quickie.

Enjoy. :)

~ Red

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He stared at the woman, her body had been used, he knew this, but he didn’t care. She was unique and for that reason and that reason alone he wanted her. Jack paid the seller, and walked over to the bound captive. Her nipples were erect and proud. The silver hoop she wore caught the light. He flicked it and she glared hotly at him. He only smirked. The dress she had on was no longer a dress, but a flimsy piece of fabric that did little to hide her attributes. The rope kept her arms at her side and her hands bound. It circled her like a knotted snake and he knew he would see her bound many times, but after today the only one to bind her would be him…
 
As he dipped his hand between her panties and her sex, she wondered who he was and why he had chosen this as a means to extract his revenge on her. She knew her world was full of men and women that hated her. They saw her as a power hungry bitch; she saw herself as strong and confident. Yet someone had gotten the balls to pluck her from her penthouse apartment, bind her, blindfold her and slowly arouse her body to a fevered pitch. It had been happening now for weeks. Every night he would command her to blindfold herself. She would – at first it was out of fear – now it was out of need. Gone was the concern that someone was looking for her. It seemed that he had known what she needed from the beginning and this had been his way of bringing it out of her. Tonight as he brought her close to another climatic release she wondered, would he finally reveal himself to her and claim her as his own?

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Laughter filled the room as they watched the young woman press her hands against the round cheeks of her ass. The light seemed to focus on exactly where they all knew the first stinking bite would land. She had been told of her punishment and yet she did not believe he would really publicly flog her. After all he had never done so before. But then again she had never broken such a serious rule either. Her hands were cuffed behind her back, her palms were cool to her flushed skin and her humiliation sat heavy on her heart as she tried to protect what he said he cherished. Sweat poured off her body as she waited and when he stepped into the room, those that had been called to watch fell silent. She lowered her head and waited, still not quite giving up the protection her hands allowed her, though she knew to deny him the right would only increase the power behind the swing.
 
I find this one very intriguing. Would love to read more. Great writing by the way!
Thank you. I liked this one too. Who knows what may come of it. :)

spank.bmp


I am so going to get smacked for this.LMAO

It came as a surprise to Missus Robinson when her husband came home from work that afternoon and the first thing he did was grab her and drag her off to their bedroom. The ladies who had come for tea, looked shocked, but they said nothing. Each one had their own reasons to keep quiet, yet all knew why Mister Robinson was so angry - it seemed that Missus Robinson had expressed her displeasure with her husband and his prowess in bed - these rumors had gotten back to his business associates and Mister Robinson was about to set the Missus to rights.
 
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When he pulled her body close to his she didn't resist; she could feel him, his warm body that seemed to radiate heat. Her hand unconsciously went to cover her breast as she let out a shiver, but was it to cover, or to caress. She breathed a heavy moan as she felt his fingers wandering down, and down, and finally...

Very lovely. Thank-you very much. :) A tantalizing picture and words.
 
This thread's perfect for me. As much as I enjoy writing I'm too lazy to actually sit down and formulate a story. I'll probably be stopping by quite a bit :)

There are times my mind needs to unwind and a quick write does that. It helps take the panic out of when I am developing a deeper story.
 
She stared at the camera as she felt the stranger's hands on her ass. He wasn't aware of the camera, nor was he aware that he was just a means to an end. As his cock slipped into her, she held his hair in her hand and pulled just enough to make him groan in pleasure. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

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He really didn't expect her to listen to his proposal. So when she walked into the office, wearing nothing but the inappropriate short dress he was stunned. The dirt he had on her really wasn't that damaging and in all honesty he assumed she would slap him with a lawsuit. The fact that she was walking toward him with a look of submission made his cock tighten and flex. He held the pencil in his hands and gripped it tight. It snapped under the pressure; he showed no sign of his growing desire, except the whispered words, "Crawl."
 
He had heard her need, read her desire and fulfilled her wishes. He watched them take her and knew that when they were done, it would still be his name she called out.

http://t1.***********/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRlHH7IL9cQY54fEFP2jM-6tovnD7DK7lWnTsTYVw0tTarlEgLF
 
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Her smooth sex felt like velvet and she writhed and gasped with every stroke of his finger. The look of passion and wanton submission in her eyes is even more arousing than her luscious smooth body. Controlling her arousal and passion, bringing her body to the brink and then teasing it until she can't control herself any longer is far more arousing than simply penetrating her.
 
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Her smooth sex felt like velvet and she writhed and gasped with every stroke of his finger. The look of passion and wanton submission in her eyes is even more arousing than her luscious smooth body. Controlling her arousal and passion, bringing her body to the brink and then teasing it until she can't control herself any longer is far more arousing than simply penetrating her.

Oh very nice indeed. Good job. :) Thanks for the contribution.
 
eleMENTAL - did an outstanding job and I look forward to both of you contributing, as well as others too. :)
 
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She'd been coming to this particular meeting for the past six months and not once had anyone been brave enough to come to her. It was her own fault, she knew this. Her exterior showed a woman who coveted power. The crop on her lap spoke of strength that could match any man's, yet to the right man, he would see through her and he would know, that all of this - the leather and lace - it was merely a costume that hid the woman she longed to be. The crop --- it was a gift for the one that would finally break down the wall and complete her.
 
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He slid into the apartment, trying to be quiet, knowing that he was late getting back from the meeting. The light on in the living room was surprising, and so were the sounds softly echoing down the hall. His heart pounding with both fear and arousal he surreptitiously peeked into the living room. His lovely wife lay slightly awkwardly in his favorite chair, her fingers moving furiously under the skimpy red panties that were all that stood between her and complete nakedness. Her face was lost in a reverie of sexual fantasy and she moaned softly as he watched. He had never seen her masturbate and his cock grew hard. It was a sight more arousing than he had imagined. His mind raced with possibilities, run in and take her quickly? Stumble in and ask "what are you doing?" or something more clever like "would you like some help with that." But he stood there, just outside of the room in the dark, his hand on the throbbing bulge in his pants and watched...
 
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a revision i finished recently:


Nostalgia

Lying in the backyard,
hot from fruit wine and Spring,
I study the soft packets of my lips
and recall Summer camps at St. Mary’s,

running dandelions and blades
of woven sandpaper over closed lids,
sneaking in the crevices,
tracing the round of my childish bones.

I could cry for the blues
forgotten by the sky and the dead
weight of my face.


*edit: oops. I didn't realize that this thread was picture-based. edited to add something connected.
 
Last edited:
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Honeysuckle Twilight (also a revision)


Real magic exists
in dandelion breezes, fall carnivals,
the opposing poles of kissing lips;
in standing at my backdoor,
inhaling humid honeysuckle twilight,
the humming ghosts of dead sons pleading
under orange streetlight constellations.

"Leave the door closed."
“Go and play.”
 
3_883.jpg


He slid into the apartment, trying to be quiet, knowing that he was late getting back from the meeting. The light on in the living room was surprising, and so were the sounds softly echoing down the hall. His heart pounding with both fear and arousal he surreptitiously peeked into the living room. His lovely wife lay slightly awkwardly in his favorite chair, her fingers moving furiously under the skimpy red panties that were all that stood between her and complete nakedness. Her face was lost in a reverie of sexual fantasy and she moaned softly as he watched. He had never seen her masturbate and his cock grew hard. It was a sight more arousing than he had imagined. His mind raced with possibilities, run in and take her quickly? Stumble in and ask "what are you doing?" or something more clever like "would you like some help with that." But he stood there, just outside of the room in the dark, his hand on the throbbing bulge in his pants and watched...

Very very nice. :) I like it a lot.

700-00522369w.jpg


a revision i finished recently:


Nostalgia

Lying in the backyard,
hot from fruit wine and Spring,
I study the soft packets of my lips
and recall Summer camps at St. Mary’s,

running dandelions and blades
of woven sandpaper over closed lids,
sneaking in the crevices,
tracing the round of my childish bones.

I could cry for the blues
forgotten by the sky and the dead
weight of my face.


*edit: oops. I didn't realize that this thread was picture-based. edited to add something connected.
It's lovely and you never have to worry about using a pic or not. That's the "whatever" part of the thread. :) Thank you so much.

Beautiful desciptive prose

Thank you very much for enjoying the work. :)

2029239322_07480675c4.jpg



Honeysuckle Twilight (also a revision)


Real magic exists
in dandelion breezes, fall carnivals,
the opposing poles of kissing lips;
in standing at my backdoor,
inhaling humid honeysuckle twilight,
the humming ghosts of dead sons pleading
under orange streetlight constellations.

"Leave the door closed."
“Go and play.”

Also beautiful. :kiss:
 
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