(Very) Short Stories Thread

honeybites

Literotica Guru
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Mar 21, 2009
Posts
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Short stories under 50 words. Inspire some new ideas. Amaze yourself. Make someone wet.

I'll start.

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He calls it "tuning." Rope bonds. Blindfold. A feather. Tracing alphabets on her back. She anticipates. Screams. That was the whip, he says.
 
Short stories under 50 words. Inspire some new ideas. Amaze yourself. Make someone wet.

I'll start.

---------

He calls it "tuning." Rope bonds. Blindfold. A feather. Tracing alphabets on her back. She anticipates. Screams. That was the whip, he says.

A thin ribbon of blood traced the outline of her spine. "Yes I know."
 
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A thin ribbon of blood traces along her spine. "Yes, I know."
 
"What do you see, when you look in the mirror?" I asked.

"Not you," she said, "sorry."
 
Uh!

Stories have plots, guys. No matter how short they are, they have to have a middle and an end, if not an actual beginning. The ending can be implied, like mine is (I hope), but it has to be there...

Give it another go, Austin :)
 
Hi folks and welcome to the AH. Oggbashan (Ogg) is your man on the 50 word stories. Seek him out.

There's also a thread about for six word stories.
 
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Uh!

Stories have plots, guys. No matter how short they are, they have to have a middle and an end, if not an actual beginning. The ending can be implied, like mine is (I hope), but it has to be there...

Give it another go, Austin :)
I see you are gonna make me work for it eh?
✠ ✠
She packed her bags, she came seeking fame, but soon realized a dream not interpreted is like a letter that goes unread.
 
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Make me tea, he said. Not too hot, I don't want anyone to get burned. Here you are Master, she says. He says, now pour it down your front.
 
I know that struggling is useless, I must lie here and submit to your mouth and tongue and teeth, your hands and words and whims. I exist as your object. Exposed.
 
"Pick" spoke a servant as his master examined the merchandise.

"A wise choice" spoke another as the king made his selection.

The master took his "chosen one" between his fingers and went up and down for hours.

"Not bad" said the master as he gave his guitar a rest.
 
Why write a fifty word story?

We met. We kissed.

A friendly kiss on the cheek but she kept her arms around me.

Her face turned to mine. This kiss was more.

It told me she wanted me. I had always wanted her.

In fifty words two had become one.
 
"Ready?" The blade was cold against her skin. It cut her clothes easily from her. She whimpered under his stern gaze and shivered at his touch. He embraced her soft form and brought her against him. They moaned together as their bodies joined.
 
Ok, here is my first attempt at a writing exercise, let me know what you think.

The cougar stalks her prey silently. When he's alone she launches her attack.
"Hello, I want to be your MILF. Would you like that?"
The young man has a deer caught in headlights look, staring at her breasts.
"y-yes."
She flashes a predatory smile."Then come with me."
He follows.
 
She sat on that chair. Tied. While the blonde curl-head sat on her, proving the bonds.
Saying to her “Be patient, my love, an adorable prince will come and free you.” She puts the ball in her mouth. “Until that, you're mine!” She touched her own burning skin.


just my 50 cents...I meant words...
 
“PULL IT OVER!”
Blondy thinks: “Oh shit, the points!”
Podunk lawman says: “License and registration.”
She says: “Sir, is there any way...”
He says: “There is always a way.”
She sucks. She feels it coming. He holds her head down.
He lobs a glob into her mouth.
He speeds away.
 
No shit, there I was... Nothing between me and freedom but a Vietnamese hooker with a twelve dollar pistol.

What's a guy to do?

I slathered myself in peanut butter and prepared to defend myself. She was agile, and quick. But when properly lubricated, I can dodge bullets.

***

We've been throwing shit like that around at work for like 5 months. Most of it is ridiculous, but it makes me smile. And it comes in at 48 words.
 
Have another ridiculous story.

So, no shit, there I was.

Naked in a Tijuana Motel room, covered in blood. Some of it mine, some of it not. It's difficult for the police to take you seriously when you're wearing nothing but a man-thong and a sombrero.

The bottle of mustard didn't help either.
 
"Don't look at me," I told him.

"I have always hated the way you make me feel naked when I don't want to feel that way. Your eyes are cruel in the way they disarm me."

He smiled when I told him this, seeming well pleased by my discomfort.
 
"Short isn't so bad," she said.

I'm uneasy. My head reaches her armpit.

I'm not short where it matters - when we couple.

My unease was justified. She rolled in her sleep.

I'm crushed under her as she snores.
 
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