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TheeGoatPig
There is no R in my name
- Joined
- Dec 29, 2004
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What a great idea. too bad I can't compete at this very moment. Maybe later (like in a few years when I get my creative juices running again 
).
).
jomar
chillin
- Joined
- Nov 7, 2006
- Posts
- 27,551
I may try this! Though I'm out of town for the week. We've had 100 word stories and 300 word intros etc... since I've been here. I also like to see the challenge threads on the main forum instead of in the sub-forum (which was a noble, but failed, experiment). Wanna do categories or leave it open?
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Hookup
"You don't look much like a Dom," she said. She was mid-thirties or a bit more, depending on how much Botox and Pilates she had done. Wore too much makeup. Was thin, with nice clothes, though the style was much too young for her.
"Why do you say that?" I asked, "No whip? No mask? No leather jeans?"
"No abs," she said, poking my gut, "No cock, far as I can tell."
"Well," I said, amicably, "that comes and goes, y'know?" I reached for the check, slipped a few bills into the folder and slid out of the booth.
"You're leaving?"
"Yep," I said.
"Just like that?"
"Yep."
"You're pathetic," she sneered.
"No," I said, "I'm a car thief." I showed her the keys I'd palmed off the table.
After a brief, shocked pause, she laughed. "You can't get away with this. I'll call the cops. Hell, I'll call the maître d'. You won't make it past the fucking parking valet, dickhead."
"Oh, gosh. I'm sure you're right," I said, chastened. "Fortunately," I took some folded papers from my inside jacket pocket, "I'm also a blackmailer." I dropped the transcript of our online chats and the details of her userids and logins on the table. "I know. I know," I said apologetically, "that I talk way better than I fuck. Sorry about that. I was an English major. Honors, actually."
"Has Walter seen this?" she asked, holding up the papers and looking a bit peaked.
"Not yet."
"OK, shithead, I'll fuck you. I'll blow you. Whatever it..."
"It's Sir," I said, "and, oh yes, Please works well. And," I showed her the CD I'd brought, David Daniels singing, among other things, "Ombra mai fù" from Handel's Xerxes, "I really want to try the Mark Levinson stereo in your Lexus,
"Pet."
"You don't look much like a Dom," she said. She was mid-thirties or a bit more, depending on how much Botox and Pilates she had done. Wore too much makeup. Was thin, with nice clothes, though the style was much too young for her.
"Why do you say that?" I asked, "No whip? No mask? No leather jeans?"
"No abs," she said, poking my gut, "No cock, far as I can tell."
"Well," I said, amicably, "that comes and goes, y'know?" I reached for the check, slipped a few bills into the folder and slid out of the booth.
"You're leaving?"
"Yep," I said.
"Just like that?"
"Yep."
"You're pathetic," she sneered.
"No," I said, "I'm a car thief." I showed her the keys I'd palmed off the table.
After a brief, shocked pause, she laughed. "You can't get away with this. I'll call the cops. Hell, I'll call the maître d'. You won't make it past the fucking parking valet, dickhead."
"Oh, gosh. I'm sure you're right," I said, chastened. "Fortunately," I took some folded papers from my inside jacket pocket, "I'm also a blackmailer." I dropped the transcript of our online chats and the details of her userids and logins on the table. "I know. I know," I said apologetically, "that I talk way better than I fuck. Sorry about that. I was an English major. Honors, actually."
"Has Walter seen this?" she asked, holding up the papers and looking a bit peaked.
"Not yet."
"OK, shithead, I'll fuck you. I'll blow you. Whatever it..."
"It's Sir," I said, "and, oh yes, Please works well. And," I showed her the CD I'd brought, David Daniels singing, among other things, "Ombra mai fù" from Handel's Xerxes, "I really want to try the Mark Levinson stereo in your Lexus,
"Pet."
That's 28 words right there, bud. Though, this is not a competition (any more than any writing is), and you haven't started out very, well, story-like, but that's OK!What a great idea. too bad I can't compete at this very moment. Maybe later (like in a few years when I get my creative juices running again
You just need to persevere a bit: What a great idea. too bad I can't compete at this very moment. Maybe later (like in a few years when I get my creative juices running again.) Of course, that was Marsha's fault. She kind of broke my spirit. And my pen. And took all my paper also. And my laptop.
Bitch. I liked that laptop. A lot.
We will not talk about my heart.
[Hey! Only 234 words to go!]
Categories are whatever you wish, or want. Personally, I don't care if they are even erotic, though you get bonus points for that, I suppose. (Seriously—try writing an erotic story that is more than simple sex scene in 300 words. I can't. Though, truth to tell, I can't write sex scenes worth a shit in 10,000 words.
Why restriction appeals to me, I suppose.)
Anyway, do whatever you want. Text must be exactly 300 words is the only requirement.
I know. I'm obsessive.
_Lynn_
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Dec 12, 2006
- Posts
- 49,486
I'll stick this in the 'whatever' category, since it isn't a 'story'.
******
The scent of his cologne was in the house. Everywhere she looked, he was there. Yet, he was gone. Pen in hand, the words poured out.
I smell you. That deep woodsy scent blended with a touch of spice. It’s unique, yours. At night, I hold your pillow to me, breathing you in, savoring the warmth. Hugging it close gives me a sense of having you there, even though I know you aren’t.
Today I wore one of your shirts again, the soft material brushing over my skin. When I close my eyes, I feel you touching me, the heat of your hands roaming over my body.
Listening to our favorite songs, I hear you. I love your raspy voice, singing the words, making up your own. When you whispered to me, I burned, the desire in you scorching me. Closing my eyes, you’re still here, seducing me through the music.
Each day I wait for you is more difficult. Yet I know that what you are dealing with is so much worse. Your strength amazes me, my love. I just want to hold you, to absorb your energy and power. I must remain strong for you, this I promised you. My tears come, but only when I am alone, when the worry and fear set in. I need you in my life. It scares me to think of what could happen to you.
Some day we’ll look back at this time with wonder and ask how we made it through. The answer is so simple. Our love wasn’t conditional. We held each other up through sheer need for one another. Never did we imagine a war would take you away. But we didn’t let it come between us.
I am yours forever, heart and soul. Be safe, my love.
(300 words)
******
The scent of his cologne was in the house. Everywhere she looked, he was there. Yet, he was gone. Pen in hand, the words poured out.
I smell you. That deep woodsy scent blended with a touch of spice. It’s unique, yours. At night, I hold your pillow to me, breathing you in, savoring the warmth. Hugging it close gives me a sense of having you there, even though I know you aren’t.
Today I wore one of your shirts again, the soft material brushing over my skin. When I close my eyes, I feel you touching me, the heat of your hands roaming over my body.
Listening to our favorite songs, I hear you. I love your raspy voice, singing the words, making up your own. When you whispered to me, I burned, the desire in you scorching me. Closing my eyes, you’re still here, seducing me through the music.
Each day I wait for you is more difficult. Yet I know that what you are dealing with is so much worse. Your strength amazes me, my love. I just want to hold you, to absorb your energy and power. I must remain strong for you, this I promised you. My tears come, but only when I am alone, when the worry and fear set in. I need you in my life. It scares me to think of what could happen to you.
Some day we’ll look back at this time with wonder and ask how we made it through. The answer is so simple. Our love wasn’t conditional. We held each other up through sheer need for one another. Never did we imagine a war would take you away. But we didn’t let it come between us.
I am yours forever, heart and soul. Be safe, my love.
(300 words)
_Lynn_
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Dec 12, 2006
- Posts
- 49,486
Damn! Missy Lynn, that was good. Add another 3000 words and finish it.
Thanks.
If there is ever an ending to it, I might finish.
AvoidingRealWork
What? Me?? Never!
- Joined
- Dec 12, 2007
- Posts
- 2,134
Using her powers for awesome.
"Your clothes, please. I'm going to need them," the tall, stern brunette said.
"What?" Nathan responded with disbelief. "I'm... I must say I'm flattered, but we're on Michigan Ave and it's nearly noon. I don't think..."
"You're simply going to do what I say," the woman said, lowering her glasses to gaze at her prey.
Nathan found his hands undoing his tie. "Hey! What the... I really can't do this; I have a lunch appointment and... why am I...?" Nathan handed his $50 silk tie to the woman, and began unbuttoning his shirt.
"Silly man. You have no choice. The sooner you realize it, the more fun we can have!" She let out an evil cackle.
After handing over his shirt, the twenty-five-year-old investment assistant pulled his t-shirt over his head, revealing a muscular chest and abs. The brunette whistled.
Passersby didn't seem to notice the young man dressed in business attire from the waist down, but nude above his belt.
"Listen, miss..."
"Deborah."
"I don't know what you're doing, Deborah, or how, but this needs to stop!"
"It looks like you're the one doing it," she said, glaring at him with her hazel eyes.
His hands unzipped his fly. "Look, can't I just get your number and we can get together later?" His impressive cock sprung out eagerly as his pants and underwear pooled around his legs.
"That's just not how I operate, sweetie," Deborah said. "Oh, and you really should take off your shoes before your pants."
Nathan bent over to untie his shoes. Deborah enjoyed the view of his tight ass and his dangling sack.
With a resigned sigh, he handed over the rest of his clothes. No one else seemed to notice as Deborah grabbed him by the phallus and led him away.
"Your clothes, please. I'm going to need them," the tall, stern brunette said.
"What?" Nathan responded with disbelief. "I'm... I must say I'm flattered, but we're on Michigan Ave and it's nearly noon. I don't think..."
"You're simply going to do what I say," the woman said, lowering her glasses to gaze at her prey.
Nathan found his hands undoing his tie. "Hey! What the... I really can't do this; I have a lunch appointment and... why am I...?" Nathan handed his $50 silk tie to the woman, and began unbuttoning his shirt.
"Silly man. You have no choice. The sooner you realize it, the more fun we can have!" She let out an evil cackle.
After handing over his shirt, the twenty-five-year-old investment assistant pulled his t-shirt over his head, revealing a muscular chest and abs. The brunette whistled.
Passersby didn't seem to notice the young man dressed in business attire from the waist down, but nude above his belt.
"Listen, miss..."
"Deborah."
"I don't know what you're doing, Deborah, or how, but this needs to stop!"
"It looks like you're the one doing it," she said, glaring at him with her hazel eyes.
His hands unzipped his fly. "Look, can't I just get your number and we can get together later?" His impressive cock sprung out eagerly as his pants and underwear pooled around his legs.
"That's just not how I operate, sweetie," Deborah said. "Oh, and you really should take off your shoes before your pants."
Nathan bent over to untie his shoes. Deborah enjoyed the view of his tight ass and his dangling sack.
With a resigned sigh, he handed over the rest of his clothes. No one else seemed to notice as Deborah grabbed him by the phallus and led him away.
D
DeeZire
Guest
It’s Spring, 2012. Excitement runs like electricity through the crowd. Never-mind the fact that they paid $10,000 per plate for the privilege of being here. To them it’s worth every penny, knowing how far she’s willing to go to represent Joe Six-pack in the halls of Washington.
The lights dim. A hush falls over the crowd. Newt Gingrich strolls on stage and recites the pledge of allegiance. Tears are seen slithering down cheeks. Noses blow in the shadows.
The Army Cadet Chorus is next, singing the Trace Adkins hit “Till the Last Shot’s fired.” More tears are shed. Openly. The women are beginning to look like clowns, their makeup streaked, their perfectly coifed hair sagging in the stifling heat. Men are removing their jackets and undoing their ties. Waiters are clearing the aisles of jack stands and trays.
The band begins playing “I Will Survive.” The hall goes black, and then a single spotlight pinpoints the center of the stage. Already the applause is thunderous. “Sarah! Sarah!” they chant, in perfect unison.
Hidden hands part the curtain, and the crowd jumps to its feet. A bare leg appears; fleshy but not fat, shapely but not toned. The “Sarah” chant devolves into a cacophony of desperate pleas: “Sarah! Over here!” “Sarah, I love you!”
Sarah steps out from behind the curtain, wearing nothing but stripper heels and a hockey jersey. She struts stage left. Instantly, a security detail locks arms in front of the stage as she proceeds to pull the jersey off. Her teddy is red, white and blue. With a little shimmy, it flutters down around her ankles. She’s still wearing a see-through bra and thong, but the night is young.
It’s the Leaders in Lingerie Tour, starring Sarah Palin, Laura Ingraham, and Anne Coulter.
The lights dim. A hush falls over the crowd. Newt Gingrich strolls on stage and recites the pledge of allegiance. Tears are seen slithering down cheeks. Noses blow in the shadows.
The Army Cadet Chorus is next, singing the Trace Adkins hit “Till the Last Shot’s fired.” More tears are shed. Openly. The women are beginning to look like clowns, their makeup streaked, their perfectly coifed hair sagging in the stifling heat. Men are removing their jackets and undoing their ties. Waiters are clearing the aisles of jack stands and trays.
The band begins playing “I Will Survive.” The hall goes black, and then a single spotlight pinpoints the center of the stage. Already the applause is thunderous. “Sarah! Sarah!” they chant, in perfect unison.
Hidden hands part the curtain, and the crowd jumps to its feet. A bare leg appears; fleshy but not fat, shapely but not toned. The “Sarah” chant devolves into a cacophony of desperate pleas: “Sarah! Over here!” “Sarah, I love you!”
Sarah steps out from behind the curtain, wearing nothing but stripper heels and a hockey jersey. She struts stage left. Instantly, a security detail locks arms in front of the stage as she proceeds to pull the jersey off. Her teddy is red, white and blue. With a little shimmy, it flutters down around her ankles. She’s still wearing a see-through bra and thong, but the night is young.
It’s the Leaders in Lingerie Tour, starring Sarah Palin, Laura Ingraham, and Anne Coulter.
AvoidingRealWork
What? Me?? Never!
- Joined
- Dec 12, 2007
- Posts
- 2,134
Bump.
I like this concept.
I like this concept.
Teloz
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Mar 6, 2004
- Posts
- 156
Hunting.
'I say old chap, you're on private land don't ya know!' he looked down his nose at me.
'I know that very well old bean!' I replied in a very sarcastic tone, jiggling the shotgun that lay over my arm, broken for safety, but with a cartridge in each breech.
'Well you'd better get orf then, get on your jolly way what?' his horse nodded and stamped.
'I will, as soon as I've done what I came to do.
'What's that? You have no right to be here! To do anything!'
'Oh, but I do! I'm hunting!'
'You aren't allowed to shoot on this land, it's private and the shooting is private!' His horse became more restless.
'I'm not shooting any of your pheasants my good man, I'm hunting vermin.'
'What do you mean vermin? Do you mean rats and squirrels and suchlike?'
'Oh no, I'm hunting much bigger vermin than that!'
'What, rabbits, foxes?'
'Nope, bigger still.'
'What do you mean then, you can't come here shooting things willy-nilly y'know, it's just not on!'
'Let me explain. Down in the village the night before last a young girl was raped and beaten very badly.' His face paled and he made to grab his reins, but by then I'd taken my gun in my right hand and grabbed the bridle in my left.
I looked him in the eyes, 'I was too late to save her but I was there in plenty of time to see you running away you bastard!'
'It wasn't me, you're mistaken!'
'Oh no, she told me it was you and I saw you! So here I am hunting vermin.'
I jerked my right arm up to close the barrels on the shotgun, flicked off the safety, pointed it at his breastbone and pulled both triggers.
300 words
'I say old chap, you're on private land don't ya know!' he looked down his nose at me.
'I know that very well old bean!' I replied in a very sarcastic tone, jiggling the shotgun that lay over my arm, broken for safety, but with a cartridge in each breech.
'Well you'd better get orf then, get on your jolly way what?' his horse nodded and stamped.
'I will, as soon as I've done what I came to do.
'What's that? You have no right to be here! To do anything!'
'Oh, but I do! I'm hunting!'
'You aren't allowed to shoot on this land, it's private and the shooting is private!' His horse became more restless.
'I'm not shooting any of your pheasants my good man, I'm hunting vermin.'
'What do you mean vermin? Do you mean rats and squirrels and suchlike?'
'Oh no, I'm hunting much bigger vermin than that!'
'What, rabbits, foxes?'
'Nope, bigger still.'
'What do you mean then, you can't come here shooting things willy-nilly y'know, it's just not on!'
'Let me explain. Down in the village the night before last a young girl was raped and beaten very badly.' His face paled and he made to grab his reins, but by then I'd taken my gun in my right hand and grabbed the bridle in my left.
I looked him in the eyes, 'I was too late to save her but I was there in plenty of time to see you running away you bastard!'
'It wasn't me, you're mistaken!'
'Oh no, she told me it was you and I saw you! So here I am hunting vermin.'
I jerked my right arm up to close the barrels on the shotgun, flicked off the safety, pointed it at his breastbone and pulled both triggers.
300 words
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