The Challenge Club
- Thread starter Dingus Guy
- Start date
Black Tulip
Not so delicate flower
- Joined
- Oct 12, 2003
- Posts
- 5,945
Hi CM,
I'll try.
Well, I hope that this one works out. You have had such bad luck with men lately; surely you are due for a turnaround.
The waitress arrived with their coffee and desert, which saved Emily’s mom from a rather scathing reply. They sat in silence as they ate their desert and drank their coffee, which was a special blend that tasted like bitter chocolate.
I thought the mother was being nasty but right after she was, you said something about the mother replying? Or am I missing something?
Could be, after all I am only trying to fool you guys with the language.
I'll try.
Well, I hope that this one works out. You have had such bad luck with men lately; surely you are due for a turnaround.
The waitress arrived with their coffee and desert, which saved Emily’s mom from a rather scathing reply. They sat in silence as they ate their desert and drank their coffee, which was a special blend that tasted like bitter chocolate.
I thought the mother was being nasty but right after she was, you said something about the mother replying? Or am I missing something?
Could be, after all I am only trying to fool you guys with the language.
G
Guest
Guest
I can see how it is confusing. I meant that Emily was about to make an extremely scathing reply to her mother in response to the men comment, but the arrival of the waitress kept it from occuring.
Thanks for pointing that out. I will fix it so that it is clearer before I submit it to the non-erotic section.
Thanks for pointing that out. I will fix it so that it is clearer before I submit it to the non-erotic section.
Dingus Guy
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Oct 9, 2003
- Posts
- 718
Ummm...BT
I can't say I enjoyed the imagery of gay centaur sex, but I will give you credit for it's originality. Now if that was submitted, where exactly would that story be categorized as? Beastiality is not acceptable, and it wasn't exactly pure male-male.
BTW, my story is cuming along nicely. Should have it done soon.
I can't say I enjoyed the imagery of gay centaur sex, but I will give you credit for it's originality. Now if that was submitted, where exactly would that story be categorized as? Beastiality is not acceptable, and it wasn't exactly pure male-male.
BTW, my story is cuming along nicely. Should have it done soon.
Dingus Guy
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Oct 9, 2003
- Posts
- 718
My Challenge Story...
Excuse me, but is that hair on your nose?
By Dingus Guy
It all ended with the decapitation of the lycanthrope. They were playing poker and the next thing they knew, there was a head rolling on Jack’s 2 pair of 4’s and 7’s. As you could imagine the game abruptly ceased. The boys decided to split the shapeshifter’s chips and call it a night. Barney grabbed the head, the body and the steering wheel used for the head lopping and placed it in his collection bag. He nodded to the poker players and left as quickly as he came.
“Don’t you think Barney needs a woman?” Florentine amused. This was met with some chuckles from the other boys.
Every week they had a routine to meet for poker, and every week they searched out a fifth or sixth player to join them. Usually, they scoured the school for a player, and once they had a taste of the game they usually didn’t play again. On this particular occasion, Kenny Moon was the choice. They had heard rumors of his eccentricity and thought it would be a nice addition to the group. They just never knew he was a wererat until James noticed a little hair growth on his nose.
“Excuse me,” James exclaimed, “but is that hair on your nose?”
Everyone gaped at Kenny and wondered why they had not noticed the coarse hair before. There appeared to be several grayish lochs of hair stemming from his nose just as the first blades of grass would appear in the dirt in spring. They stood out from the tip and extended around the left nostril. They were really quite noticeable.
Kenny felt his nose and smiled awkwardly at the group.
“Well,” he stammered, “I guess I better explain before it gets worse. I don’t want you guys to freak, I am not contagious.”
“That is nice to know,” Stephen stated raising an eyebrow.
“Look it’s not easy for me to admit this to friends, but…”
“Then it should be easy then,” Florentine interrupted and they all laughed.
“What I am trying to say is that I am different.” Kenny looked at them trying to find the right words so they wouldn’t suddenly freak out on him. He continued, “I have this special blood problem that I had handed down to me through my family line. It’s hard for me to tell people, but I have found that it is better to tell people than keep secrets. That way they have a better understanding.”
“Damn it Kenny,” Jack barked, “I want play some cards by tomorrow, if you got something to tell us just spit it out all ready.” Jack was the no nonsense guy of the group. He was way done in chips and a beer short of a six-pack.
“Okay, sorry, errr…I am a lycanthrope.”
“What the hell is that?” Jack returned.
“You telling us you some kind of werewolf?” Stephen questioned.
“Werewolf?” Florentine barked. Kenny tried to answer, but they continued to volley questions back and forth without letting him answer.
“How the hell are you a werewolf?” Jack asked.
“I don’t get it,” James said.
“What is there not to get?” Stephen explained. “A lycanthrope is another word for werewolf. He is telling us he is one of those creatures that change in a full moon.”
“So is he dangerous?” James inquired.
“They are supposed to be very dangerous,” Jack shouted, rising from his seat and taking a few steps back.
“Hey, let me have a chance to finish,” Kenny retorted.
“What are you waiting for?” Florentine responded.
“Okay,” Kenny said, “first off I am not dangerous. My ancestors five generations ago were very dangerous, but like most species we evolved and each offspring survived by adapting to their surroundings. We got control over our lunar changes and no longer has the moon affected our shapeshifting. Next, we are not all werewolves that is a myth. We each have a different animal that we are linked with according to family heritage.”
“What are you?” Jack interrupted.
“My family is of the rat.”
“You are a wererat?” Florentine chuckled.
“If you want to call us that, yes,” Kenny admitted.
“That is too funny,” James added.
“I guess it might be to you, but we are proud to be of the rat,” Kenny proclaimed.
“So why do you have hair on your nose?” Stephen asked.
“Every time I get excited, hair sometimes grows,” Kenny responded.
“What the hell got you excited?” Jack replied.
“Well I had a really good poker hand,” Kenny smirked.
“I knew I would find out his tell,” Florentine announced. They all laughed. A tell was a way of reading a poker player. Florentine always said he could read everyone when they played just like those professionals on TV who played every year in the World Championship of Poker. Florentine had the poker visor with the green plastic window that said Las Vegas and a stogie with the ash always ready to fall. It was his contribution to the poker player stereotype he tried to live up to.
“Well, why don’t we just give him the pot while we are at it,” Jack grumbled.
“Let’s finish the hand while Kenny tells us more,” Stephen stated. “I am out anyway.”
“Me too, hair on nose is too much for me,” Florentine said pushing his cards towards the pot.
“I don’t have much either,” James announced tossing his card in too.
“What about you Jack?” Stephen inquired.
Jack sat back down, grabbed his cards and said, I got a little something something, so I will pay to see what hairyboy got.”
“Hairyboy?” Kenny laughed. He picked up his cards and watched Jack toss his chips to match Kenny’s previous raise of James’ bet. Suddenly the back door opened and before anyone could make a move, Barney threw the steering wheel right through Kenny’s neck.
Barney was what you would call a timehunter. He time traveled every now and then to solve problems and often came back ever the wiser. He was not limited to an ethereal stasis for which he wouldn’t be seen, heard, nor could he affect the timeline. He referred to this state as dreamtime because he would travel from his mind whilst lying in bed with his eyes closed. He was now a part-time vigilante and took his job very seriously. Every now and then he stormed into the poker game and removed one of the players for various reasons. He once explained his actions were similar to the governments. They were there to protect you, make decisions for you and it was sometimes better if you were kept out of the loop. Some things you just didn’t want to know.
There weren’t too many timehunters and Barney was registered with the FBI. None of his family knew he was anything more than a student. Only his crew had that knowledge. He missed hanging out with the guys as much as he did before joining the FBI. He used to joke how he could check into a girl to see if she liked him, cheated on him, or had a checkered past. He once found a girl that was into the whole domination thing. Her basement was filled with leather whips, restraints, dildos, harnesses, and the like. Another girl was a re-animator of dead animals and performed other witchcraft rituals. Once he saw her dig up a grave at a pet cemetery and pull out a golden retriever out of a coffin.
Barney’s trips into the future were infrequent because they made him sick. He always returned nauseous with the chalky aftertaste of something similar to bitter chocolate in his mouth. There was a side effect to each trip, and it made him wary of going more than a few days into the future. He was unnaturally aging with each trip forward, yet there was no age rift by going back in time. A day or two was fine, anymore than that was dangerous. He has found that information can change the future, so he had to be careful with what he reported. He could find out lottery numbers and become rich, but it was against the rules. He was well paid anyway and the temptation was lost on him. He thought about helping the poor with information, but this too was against the rules. He had to go read the headlines and come back. He found it easier to watch TV somewhere rather than read a newspaper over someone’s shoulder.
He saw the grizzly murder of his friends in the news, which was linked to similar deaths across the region. He made note of the time and place and returned. He knew it was poker night and decided to see if there were any new players. Once he found out about Kenny Moon, and knew he was not mentioned in the murder scene, he decided to use the FBI assistance in connecting the murders. He went back to the previous murder 30 days earlier. The crime scene was located 75 miles south of the college campus. He followed the soon to be victims into a shallow clearing behind their house. When a half-man, half-rat pounced upon them, he was a bit freaked out. The thing tore at their clothes and sunk its buckteeth into their flesh. It’s long pink tail macerated them whilst the beady red eyes almost glowed in the light of the full moon. Barney followed the rat-beast into the woods and watched it alter its shape into a man by the break of day. He now knew what he had to do.
Upon arriving, he read up on the tales of werewolves, since there was no mention of wererats. He had to trust whether the facts were correct and whether they held true for all similar werebeasts. There were two ways to kill a werewolf, one was by decapitation and the other was with silver. He then had an idea. He went to his BMW and looked into the glove compartment for the owner’s manual. He found what he was looking for: STEERING WHEEL-
High gloss silver handgrip with satin silver anodized aluminum 3-spoke design. 13" diameter, 31/2" dish with styling sleeve
Was this enough silver to do the job he wasn’t sure, but he certainly would use his championship Frisbee experience to good use. He unlocked the steering wheel from the column and the rest was history. One quick thrust and the man-rat was split into two parts. He smiled at the boys letting them know it was business as usual and he collected his trophy and was off. It was just another day at the office.
As Stephen divided up the Kenny’s chips amongst the boys, Jack walked around the table. He was rather upset about losing another poker player. He looked forward to their weekly games and they seemed to be always ending earlier and earlier. It didn’t matter that he was up now because of Kenny’s contribution, he just wanted to play. He looked down at the table and remembered something.
“Hey,” Jack announced, “Did anyone see Kenny’s hand?”
“No,” the others said in unison.
“I got to know what made his hair grow,” Jack stated. He bent down and flipped Kenny’s cards over. He held a pair of 5’s and nothing higher than a Queen.
“I’ll be damned the little rat-bastard was bluffing,” James reported.
“Then why the hell was their hair growing on his nose?” Stephen asked.
“Is there a full moon out tonight?” Jack replied. They all looked towards the closed blinds. No one moved to look. They just stared at each other.
“Curiosity killed the rat,” Florentine mused, flicking his cigar into Kenny’s glass of beer. They all broke up laughing breaking the tension that had filled the room a moment ago.
Excuse me, but is that hair on your nose?
By Dingus Guy
It all ended with the decapitation of the lycanthrope. They were playing poker and the next thing they knew, there was a head rolling on Jack’s 2 pair of 4’s and 7’s. As you could imagine the game abruptly ceased. The boys decided to split the shapeshifter’s chips and call it a night. Barney grabbed the head, the body and the steering wheel used for the head lopping and placed it in his collection bag. He nodded to the poker players and left as quickly as he came.
“Don’t you think Barney needs a woman?” Florentine amused. This was met with some chuckles from the other boys.
Every week they had a routine to meet for poker, and every week they searched out a fifth or sixth player to join them. Usually, they scoured the school for a player, and once they had a taste of the game they usually didn’t play again. On this particular occasion, Kenny Moon was the choice. They had heard rumors of his eccentricity and thought it would be a nice addition to the group. They just never knew he was a wererat until James noticed a little hair growth on his nose.
“Excuse me,” James exclaimed, “but is that hair on your nose?”
Everyone gaped at Kenny and wondered why they had not noticed the coarse hair before. There appeared to be several grayish lochs of hair stemming from his nose just as the first blades of grass would appear in the dirt in spring. They stood out from the tip and extended around the left nostril. They were really quite noticeable.
Kenny felt his nose and smiled awkwardly at the group.
“Well,” he stammered, “I guess I better explain before it gets worse. I don’t want you guys to freak, I am not contagious.”
“That is nice to know,” Stephen stated raising an eyebrow.
“Look it’s not easy for me to admit this to friends, but…”
“Then it should be easy then,” Florentine interrupted and they all laughed.
“What I am trying to say is that I am different.” Kenny looked at them trying to find the right words so they wouldn’t suddenly freak out on him. He continued, “I have this special blood problem that I had handed down to me through my family line. It’s hard for me to tell people, but I have found that it is better to tell people than keep secrets. That way they have a better understanding.”
“Damn it Kenny,” Jack barked, “I want play some cards by tomorrow, if you got something to tell us just spit it out all ready.” Jack was the no nonsense guy of the group. He was way done in chips and a beer short of a six-pack.
“Okay, sorry, errr…I am a lycanthrope.”
“What the hell is that?” Jack returned.
“You telling us you some kind of werewolf?” Stephen questioned.
“Werewolf?” Florentine barked. Kenny tried to answer, but they continued to volley questions back and forth without letting him answer.
“How the hell are you a werewolf?” Jack asked.
“I don’t get it,” James said.
“What is there not to get?” Stephen explained. “A lycanthrope is another word for werewolf. He is telling us he is one of those creatures that change in a full moon.”
“So is he dangerous?” James inquired.
“They are supposed to be very dangerous,” Jack shouted, rising from his seat and taking a few steps back.
“Hey, let me have a chance to finish,” Kenny retorted.
“What are you waiting for?” Florentine responded.
“Okay,” Kenny said, “first off I am not dangerous. My ancestors five generations ago were very dangerous, but like most species we evolved and each offspring survived by adapting to their surroundings. We got control over our lunar changes and no longer has the moon affected our shapeshifting. Next, we are not all werewolves that is a myth. We each have a different animal that we are linked with according to family heritage.”
“What are you?” Jack interrupted.
“My family is of the rat.”
“You are a wererat?” Florentine chuckled.
“If you want to call us that, yes,” Kenny admitted.
“That is too funny,” James added.
“I guess it might be to you, but we are proud to be of the rat,” Kenny proclaimed.
“So why do you have hair on your nose?” Stephen asked.
“Every time I get excited, hair sometimes grows,” Kenny responded.
“What the hell got you excited?” Jack replied.
“Well I had a really good poker hand,” Kenny smirked.
“I knew I would find out his tell,” Florentine announced. They all laughed. A tell was a way of reading a poker player. Florentine always said he could read everyone when they played just like those professionals on TV who played every year in the World Championship of Poker. Florentine had the poker visor with the green plastic window that said Las Vegas and a stogie with the ash always ready to fall. It was his contribution to the poker player stereotype he tried to live up to.
“Well, why don’t we just give him the pot while we are at it,” Jack grumbled.
“Let’s finish the hand while Kenny tells us more,” Stephen stated. “I am out anyway.”
“Me too, hair on nose is too much for me,” Florentine said pushing his cards towards the pot.
“I don’t have much either,” James announced tossing his card in too.
“What about you Jack?” Stephen inquired.
Jack sat back down, grabbed his cards and said, I got a little something something, so I will pay to see what hairyboy got.”
“Hairyboy?” Kenny laughed. He picked up his cards and watched Jack toss his chips to match Kenny’s previous raise of James’ bet. Suddenly the back door opened and before anyone could make a move, Barney threw the steering wheel right through Kenny’s neck.
Barney was what you would call a timehunter. He time traveled every now and then to solve problems and often came back ever the wiser. He was not limited to an ethereal stasis for which he wouldn’t be seen, heard, nor could he affect the timeline. He referred to this state as dreamtime because he would travel from his mind whilst lying in bed with his eyes closed. He was now a part-time vigilante and took his job very seriously. Every now and then he stormed into the poker game and removed one of the players for various reasons. He once explained his actions were similar to the governments. They were there to protect you, make decisions for you and it was sometimes better if you were kept out of the loop. Some things you just didn’t want to know.
There weren’t too many timehunters and Barney was registered with the FBI. None of his family knew he was anything more than a student. Only his crew had that knowledge. He missed hanging out with the guys as much as he did before joining the FBI. He used to joke how he could check into a girl to see if she liked him, cheated on him, or had a checkered past. He once found a girl that was into the whole domination thing. Her basement was filled with leather whips, restraints, dildos, harnesses, and the like. Another girl was a re-animator of dead animals and performed other witchcraft rituals. Once he saw her dig up a grave at a pet cemetery and pull out a golden retriever out of a coffin.
Barney’s trips into the future were infrequent because they made him sick. He always returned nauseous with the chalky aftertaste of something similar to bitter chocolate in his mouth. There was a side effect to each trip, and it made him wary of going more than a few days into the future. He was unnaturally aging with each trip forward, yet there was no age rift by going back in time. A day or two was fine, anymore than that was dangerous. He has found that information can change the future, so he had to be careful with what he reported. He could find out lottery numbers and become rich, but it was against the rules. He was well paid anyway and the temptation was lost on him. He thought about helping the poor with information, but this too was against the rules. He had to go read the headlines and come back. He found it easier to watch TV somewhere rather than read a newspaper over someone’s shoulder.
He saw the grizzly murder of his friends in the news, which was linked to similar deaths across the region. He made note of the time and place and returned. He knew it was poker night and decided to see if there were any new players. Once he found out about Kenny Moon, and knew he was not mentioned in the murder scene, he decided to use the FBI assistance in connecting the murders. He went back to the previous murder 30 days earlier. The crime scene was located 75 miles south of the college campus. He followed the soon to be victims into a shallow clearing behind their house. When a half-man, half-rat pounced upon them, he was a bit freaked out. The thing tore at their clothes and sunk its buckteeth into their flesh. It’s long pink tail macerated them whilst the beady red eyes almost glowed in the light of the full moon. Barney followed the rat-beast into the woods and watched it alter its shape into a man by the break of day. He now knew what he had to do.
Upon arriving, he read up on the tales of werewolves, since there was no mention of wererats. He had to trust whether the facts were correct and whether they held true for all similar werebeasts. There were two ways to kill a werewolf, one was by decapitation and the other was with silver. He then had an idea. He went to his BMW and looked into the glove compartment for the owner’s manual. He found what he was looking for: STEERING WHEEL-
High gloss silver handgrip with satin silver anodized aluminum 3-spoke design. 13" diameter, 31/2" dish with styling sleeve
Was this enough silver to do the job he wasn’t sure, but he certainly would use his championship Frisbee experience to good use. He unlocked the steering wheel from the column and the rest was history. One quick thrust and the man-rat was split into two parts. He smiled at the boys letting them know it was business as usual and he collected his trophy and was off. It was just another day at the office.
As Stephen divided up the Kenny’s chips amongst the boys, Jack walked around the table. He was rather upset about losing another poker player. He looked forward to their weekly games and they seemed to be always ending earlier and earlier. It didn’t matter that he was up now because of Kenny’s contribution, he just wanted to play. He looked down at the table and remembered something.
“Hey,” Jack announced, “Did anyone see Kenny’s hand?”
“No,” the others said in unison.
“I got to know what made his hair grow,” Jack stated. He bent down and flipped Kenny’s cards over. He held a pair of 5’s and nothing higher than a Queen.
“I’ll be damned the little rat-bastard was bluffing,” James reported.
“Then why the hell was their hair growing on his nose?” Stephen asked.
“Is there a full moon out tonight?” Jack replied. They all looked towards the closed blinds. No one moved to look. They just stared at each other.
“Curiosity killed the rat,” Florentine mused, flicking his cigar into Kenny’s glass of beer. They all broke up laughing breaking the tension that had filled the room a moment ago.
G
Guest
Guest
Good story, DG. Loved the ending quote, that was hilarious.
Dingus Guy
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Oct 9, 2003
- Posts
- 718
Thank you sweetie
I feel quilty too that I cheated with the mythological creature. Lycanthropes were similar to what Summer called "easy" creatures. I wasn't sure what to choose. After reading some of the stories I realized I should have choosen a Minotaur or Cockatrice(since the word cock was in it) as my beast. maybe next time.
I feel quilty too that I cheated with the mythological creature. Lycanthropes were similar to what Summer called "easy" creatures. I wasn't sure what to choose. After reading some of the stories I realized I should have choosen a Minotaur or Cockatrice(since the word cock was in it) as my beast. maybe next time.
Black Tulip
Not so delicate flower
- Joined
- Oct 12, 2003
- Posts
- 5,945
Dingus,
I read your story, but I had a little trouble at first puzzling out what happened when.
I like the thought of ending with the start though.
A wererat?
Wouldn't that be just as non-human as a centaur?
I read your story, but I had a little trouble at first puzzling out what happened when.
I like the thought of ending with the start though.
A wererat?
Wouldn't that be just as non-human as a centaur?
Dingus Guy
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Oct 9, 2003
- Posts
- 718
Sorry about the confusion
Anything you wanted to point out?
Anything you wanted to point out?
Black Tulip
Not so delicate flower
- Joined
- Oct 12, 2003
- Posts
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The bit about Barney needing a woman confused me and the piece in the middle about Barney was kind of blocking the flow of the story.
Does that make sense?
Does that make sense?
Dingus Guy
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Oct 9, 2003
- Posts
- 718
I see what you mean, but...
When I wrote it, I use different type faces to indicate this, but it just didn't show up when I pasted it. Sorry. I would have submitted, but I didn't think it was worth it.
When I wrote it, I use different type faces to indicate this, but it just didn't show up when I pasted it. Sorry. I would have submitted, but I didn't think it was worth it.
Hi DG
If you will forgive me for saying so, I don't think this one is up to your usual standard, I felt you pushed it a little didn't flow comfortably.
I thought the decapitating at the outset out of place, hadn't built any tension before he bled all over the cards. Though the ending was good and Barney arrived in the nick of time. Enjoyed the dialogue - you are good at it, it was just the organisation that irked a little.
Next time you want to insert Italics try the vB code left of the type settings - I've only just discovered this myself.
If I sort myself out tomorrow I may be able to post the challenge early Friday European Time - what are we giving two weeks?
Will's
If you will forgive me for saying so, I don't think this one is up to your usual standard, I felt you pushed it a little didn't flow comfortably.
I thought the decapitating at the outset out of place, hadn't built any tension before he bled all over the cards. Though the ending was good and Barney arrived in the nick of time. Enjoyed the dialogue - you are good at it, it was just the organisation that irked a little.
Next time you want to insert Italics try the vB code left of the type settings - I've only just discovered this myself.
If I sort myself out tomorrow I may be able to post the challenge early Friday European Time - what are we giving two weeks?
Will's
Dingus Guy
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Oct 9, 2003
- Posts
- 718
One week from challenge date
It's frustrating to get the italics worked out. I can see the flow problem when the italics are taking out. It looks like one big story with no breaks. Anyway, you can post the story today since no one else is left and set it to be done by next Thursday or Friday is fine too.
It's frustrating to get the italics worked out. I can see the flow problem when the italics are taking out. It looks like one big story with no breaks. Anyway, you can post the story today since no one else is left and set it to be done by next Thursday or Friday is fine too.
The Next Challenge
Erotic Comedy - can be black comedy
Hat pin
A Grandfather Clock
A stuffed Mouse
A mistaken Identity (essential for comedy)
A contraceptive machine
Minimum 1000 words, and original genitalia descriptions suitable for a comedy setting.
Lets say for Friday 17th Jan.
Best of luck.
Will's
Erotic Comedy - can be black comedy
Hat pin
A Grandfather Clock
A stuffed Mouse
A mistaken Identity (essential for comedy)
A contraceptive machine
Minimum 1000 words, and original genitalia descriptions suitable for a comedy setting.
Lets say for Friday 17th Jan.
Best of luck.
Will's
Dingus Guy
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Oct 9, 2003
- Posts
- 718
Is it me or...
Wills trying to be a tough guy?
No one steal my idea about the stuff mouse coming out of the contraceptive machine instead of condoms.
Wills trying to be a tough guy?
No one steal my idea about the stuff mouse coming out of the contraceptive machine instead of condoms.
Black Tulip
Not so delicate flower
- Joined
- Oct 12, 2003
- Posts
- 5,945
Definitely tough guy.
Oh boy!
I'm not sure I am up to this. Being funny on purpose can turn out real bad.
I'll try, but I have serious reservations about me finishing this one.
Oh boy!
I'm not sure I am up to this. Being funny on purpose can turn out real bad.
I'll try, but I have serious reservations about me finishing this one.
It is not meant to be tough!
I thought the last took a morbid tone, I was thinking more along the lines of a Country House type farce - damn, I've said too much
Something to bring a chuckle, not a belly laugh.
You can do it BT - just mix in some local dialect that always leaves room for misunderstanding.
Will's
I thought the last took a morbid tone, I was thinking more along the lines of a Country House type farce - damn, I've said too much
Something to bring a chuckle, not a belly laugh.
You can do it BT - just mix in some local dialect that always leaves room for misunderstanding.
Will's
G
Guest
Guest
I am with BT on this one. This is gonna be tough. However, if I can pull it off I will have a story for the Humor & Satire category for the Survivor Contest (the last challenge provided one for the Non-Erotic, lol.)
Black Tulip
Not so delicate flower
- Joined
- Oct 12, 2003
- Posts
- 5,945
CM,
Can I say your AV matches the content of your last post?
Can I say your AV matches the content of your last post?
G
Guest
Guest
LOL, now that you mention it, I does.
G
Guest
Guest
Ok, here we go...
I have been working on this one since the challenge was posted. I got the idea in my head and had to go ahead and write it for fear of losing the idea. It comes in at 1,194 words. (By the way, when I read back over it, I noticed that almost every time the name Betty was used, I had typed Better, lol.)
****************************************
Betty flung open the door. “Finally, I was beginning to think you were never going to get here!” she exclaimed as she dragged the lean man into the house by his tie. “I didn’t expect you to be so dressed up. Oh well, that just adds to the fun!”
Before the man had time to say a word, Betty had pushed him into the chair she had set up in the middle of the living room. Working quickly, she handcuffed his wrists together behind the chair.
“Hey!” the man shouted.
“Hush now,” Betty instructed as she shoved a ball gag in his mouth. “We agreed that you would remain silent through this whole scene.”
Betty ran around the room like a chicken with her head cut off trying to gather everything she had planned on using. “You were running so late that I thought you weren’t coming so I had already put most of the stuff away.”
The man watched in bewilderment as Betty rushed around the room, gathering things in her arms. As she turned back towards him, she tripped on the rug and went sprawling on the floor, the items in her hands flying in different directions. A stuffed mouse landed at his feet.
Betty jumped up, her face flush with embarrassment. She grabbed the stuffed mouse and threw it behind the recliner. “Not sure where that came from. I don’t remember picking it up.”
‘Oh goodness, I hope I didn’t miss any of the others. What would he think of me if he saw all of those stuffed animals? How many grown women still have their collections from when they were children? And still add to them, no less?’
Betty gathered the rest of the items that she had dropped and dumped them on the couch, which was only a couple of steps away from her special chair. She grabbed a scarf and walked behind the man, wrapping it around his eyes.
“Oh drat, your head is too large for me to tie this. Now how am I going to keep it closed?” Betty’s eyes roamed across the living room searching for something she could use to keep the ends of the scarf together. They lit upon the hat rack, which gave Betty an idea. She grabbed her best hat from the rack and looked inside. Voila! Hat pins! They wouldn’t keep the blindfold very tight, but they should at least keep it from falling off.
“There, all fixed. What are you doing all of that mumbling for? We agreed on no talking. Honestly Bill, the way you are carrying on, one would think you had no idea what was going on here!” Betty exclaimed as the man in the chair continued to grunt and make noises behind the gag.
A loud gonging noise suddenly filled the room, causing both Betty and the man to flinch. “Dang that grandfather clock, I don’t know what I was thinking when I let Uncle Roy talk me into taking it off his hands. It scares the bejesus out of me every time it sounds the time.”
“Ok, time to get down to business.”
Betty walked in front of the man and knelt. She unzipped his pants and struggled to pull them off. She pulled on them so hard that she lost her balance and fell on her butt with a thud.
“Guess I should have done this before I sat you in the chair,” she said as she got back up on her knees and yanked and yanked, finally succeeding in getting his pants pulled down past his hips. “I think I will just leave them there.”
‘No way in heck I am going to pull them all the way down, too much trouble. This was much harder than I thought it would be,’ she thought as she worked to get his underwear in the same position.
‘Jackpot,’ she thought as his cock finally came into view. ‘Damnit, why are men always bragging about the size of their schlong and saying it’s several inches longer than it really is? Eight inches my ass, it will be a miracle if this wiener is more than four inches long once it is hard.’
Resigned to following through with the agreed upon scene but extremely disappointed at the lack of honesty on Bill’s part, Betty half-heartedly said the lines that Bill had requested.
“Oh Bill, your manmeat looks so yummy I just have go gobble it right up!”
Betty took the man’s cock in her mouth and began to vigorously suck and lick it, hoping beyond hope that once it was hard, the size of it would surprise her. Unfortunately, after five minutes of going after it like it was a fudgesicle, Betty knew it wasn’t going to get any bigger than it was.
“Bill, your rod is so stiff; I just have to get it inside my wet pussy.” Betty cringed as she said the words. She should have never agreed to say such ludicrous things. She felt so silly; it was a good thing he was blindfolded and couldn’t see her face.
Pulling the condom that she had gotten from one of those contraception machines in a convenience store bathroom out of its package, she quickly rolled it down over his small cock and prayed it would stay put. Untying her robed and pulling it out of the way, she straddled his lap and guided his dick inside her. ‘Damn,’ she thought. ‘I am going to be faking this one for sure. I hope he cums quickly so I can get him the hell out of here and get some real satisfaction from my vibrator.’
Making the appropriate noises here and there to make him think she was enjoying it, Betty rode the man as hard as she could, bucking on his lap like she was riding a rodeo bronco. She listened to the sounds of his breathing, trying to catch a clue to when he would be cumming. Soon, she heard what she thought was the signal that he was about to erupt, so she did a fake that rivaled the one in “When Harry Met Sally.”
“Yes, yes, yes, YES!” she cried, each one louder than the one before. Panting from the exertion of the hard riding, Betty dismounted and prayed that the condom would be filled with his cum.
‘Thank goodness!’ she thought upon seeing the creamy whiteness at the wrinkled tip of the condom.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang. “Who on earth could that be?” Betty said out loud. Quickly tying her robe together, she went to the door to see who it was.
“Hi Betty,” said the handsome buff man that stood in her doorway. “I’m Bill,” he said and continued on without noticing the color draining from Betty’s face. “I’m awfully sorry that I am late, but there was an accident on the highway and traffic was backed up for miles. I bet I sat there for an hour at least!”
“But, but, but…” Betty stammered as she opened the door wide so Bill could see the man in the living room. “If you are Bill, then who is he?”
I have been working on this one since the challenge was posted. I got the idea in my head and had to go ahead and write it for fear of losing the idea. It comes in at 1,194 words. (By the way, when I read back over it, I noticed that almost every time the name Betty was used, I had typed Better, lol.)
****************************************
Betty flung open the door. “Finally, I was beginning to think you were never going to get here!” she exclaimed as she dragged the lean man into the house by his tie. “I didn’t expect you to be so dressed up. Oh well, that just adds to the fun!”
Before the man had time to say a word, Betty had pushed him into the chair she had set up in the middle of the living room. Working quickly, she handcuffed his wrists together behind the chair.
“Hey!” the man shouted.
“Hush now,” Betty instructed as she shoved a ball gag in his mouth. “We agreed that you would remain silent through this whole scene.”
Betty ran around the room like a chicken with her head cut off trying to gather everything she had planned on using. “You were running so late that I thought you weren’t coming so I had already put most of the stuff away.”
The man watched in bewilderment as Betty rushed around the room, gathering things in her arms. As she turned back towards him, she tripped on the rug and went sprawling on the floor, the items in her hands flying in different directions. A stuffed mouse landed at his feet.
Betty jumped up, her face flush with embarrassment. She grabbed the stuffed mouse and threw it behind the recliner. “Not sure where that came from. I don’t remember picking it up.”
‘Oh goodness, I hope I didn’t miss any of the others. What would he think of me if he saw all of those stuffed animals? How many grown women still have their collections from when they were children? And still add to them, no less?’
Betty gathered the rest of the items that she had dropped and dumped them on the couch, which was only a couple of steps away from her special chair. She grabbed a scarf and walked behind the man, wrapping it around his eyes.
“Oh drat, your head is too large for me to tie this. Now how am I going to keep it closed?” Betty’s eyes roamed across the living room searching for something she could use to keep the ends of the scarf together. They lit upon the hat rack, which gave Betty an idea. She grabbed her best hat from the rack and looked inside. Voila! Hat pins! They wouldn’t keep the blindfold very tight, but they should at least keep it from falling off.
“There, all fixed. What are you doing all of that mumbling for? We agreed on no talking. Honestly Bill, the way you are carrying on, one would think you had no idea what was going on here!” Betty exclaimed as the man in the chair continued to grunt and make noises behind the gag.
A loud gonging noise suddenly filled the room, causing both Betty and the man to flinch. “Dang that grandfather clock, I don’t know what I was thinking when I let Uncle Roy talk me into taking it off his hands. It scares the bejesus out of me every time it sounds the time.”
“Ok, time to get down to business.”
Betty walked in front of the man and knelt. She unzipped his pants and struggled to pull them off. She pulled on them so hard that she lost her balance and fell on her butt with a thud.
“Guess I should have done this before I sat you in the chair,” she said as she got back up on her knees and yanked and yanked, finally succeeding in getting his pants pulled down past his hips. “I think I will just leave them there.”
‘No way in heck I am going to pull them all the way down, too much trouble. This was much harder than I thought it would be,’ she thought as she worked to get his underwear in the same position.
‘Jackpot,’ she thought as his cock finally came into view. ‘Damnit, why are men always bragging about the size of their schlong and saying it’s several inches longer than it really is? Eight inches my ass, it will be a miracle if this wiener is more than four inches long once it is hard.’
Resigned to following through with the agreed upon scene but extremely disappointed at the lack of honesty on Bill’s part, Betty half-heartedly said the lines that Bill had requested.
“Oh Bill, your manmeat looks so yummy I just have go gobble it right up!”
Betty took the man’s cock in her mouth and began to vigorously suck and lick it, hoping beyond hope that once it was hard, the size of it would surprise her. Unfortunately, after five minutes of going after it like it was a fudgesicle, Betty knew it wasn’t going to get any bigger than it was.
“Bill, your rod is so stiff; I just have to get it inside my wet pussy.” Betty cringed as she said the words. She should have never agreed to say such ludicrous things. She felt so silly; it was a good thing he was blindfolded and couldn’t see her face.
Pulling the condom that she had gotten from one of those contraception machines in a convenience store bathroom out of its package, she quickly rolled it down over his small cock and prayed it would stay put. Untying her robed and pulling it out of the way, she straddled his lap and guided his dick inside her. ‘Damn,’ she thought. ‘I am going to be faking this one for sure. I hope he cums quickly so I can get him the hell out of here and get some real satisfaction from my vibrator.’
Making the appropriate noises here and there to make him think she was enjoying it, Betty rode the man as hard as she could, bucking on his lap like she was riding a rodeo bronco. She listened to the sounds of his breathing, trying to catch a clue to when he would be cumming. Soon, she heard what she thought was the signal that he was about to erupt, so she did a fake that rivaled the one in “When Harry Met Sally.”
“Yes, yes, yes, YES!” she cried, each one louder than the one before. Panting from the exertion of the hard riding, Betty dismounted and prayed that the condom would be filled with his cum.
‘Thank goodness!’ she thought upon seeing the creamy whiteness at the wrinkled tip of the condom.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang. “Who on earth could that be?” Betty said out loud. Quickly tying her robe together, she went to the door to see who it was.
“Hi Betty,” said the handsome buff man that stood in her doorway. “I’m Bill,” he said and continued on without noticing the color draining from Betty’s face. “I’m awfully sorry that I am late, but there was an accident on the highway and traffic was backed up for miles. I bet I sat there for an hour at least!”
“But, but, but…” Betty stammered as she opened the door wide so Bill could see the man in the living room. “If you are Bill, then who is he?”
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Dingus Guy
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Oct 9, 2003
- Posts
- 718
Okay now what are U going 2 do for the rest of the week?
That story was precious. I think I spit a piece of egg roll over my computer screen. When I read this:
That story was precious. I think I spit a piece of egg roll over my computer screen. When I read this:
Very funny ending, should have used that twist for the last story. Well enjoy your vacation, you got 10 days until you post the next challenge for the club.
G
Guest
Guest
Re: Okay now what are U going 2 do for the rest of the week?
Vacation? What vacation? I'm in the Survivor contest, I don't have time for a vacation!! (LOL)
Thanks for the comments DG. When I first read the challenge I thought... no way in hell I can do this... but I was wrong.
Dingus Guy said:
Vacation? What vacation? I'm in the Survivor contest, I don't have time for a vacation!! (LOL)
Thanks for the comments DG. When I first read the challenge I thought... no way in hell I can do this... but I was wrong.
Dingus Guy
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Oct 9, 2003
- Posts
- 718
Survivor contest
What exactly do you have to do beside write a story in each category and as many as you can for an entire year? Am I missing something?
What exactly do you have to do beside write a story in each category and as many as you can for an entire year? Am I missing something?
G
Guest
Guest
Nope, that's pretty much the gist of it. Of course, if you want to win (and get the prize), you have to write, write, write, lol. I just wish I knew someone who was fluent in another language so I didn't have to use an immunity for the Non-English category.
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