Two WIPS, could use some advice

[dante_ragnarok]

STORY 1 - "Good & Evil"

Author's Note - Since my girlfriend and I often discuss our good and evil consciences, I thought it'd be amusing to write a story about them - or at least my half...

****

The headlights flared, then dimmed as the car rolled to a stop. Parked in the secluded clearing behind his pond, the driver knew they would not be disturbed here. Smiling, he climbed out of the vehicle and beckoned his passenger to do the same.

The car was seven years old, but felt brand-new compared to the aging rust-bucket it had replaced. He'd wanted it from the moment he laid eyes on it, and having attained one heart's desire he decided it was only fitting that he share it with his other. The other was the young woman now helping him to fold down the back seat. Together, they spread out a thickly-padded sleeping bag and stretched it into the trunk. Their "bed" made, the pair climbed back into the car and shut the doors, leaving the windows slightly cracked.

Lying on their backs, they cuddled together and watched the stars pass overhead through the rear window. Occasionally, he would give her a squeeze, or she would kiss his cheek, but overall they were content simply to hold each other and snuggle. The thought of doing more, however, hovered in the back of their minds...

****

Dante was just beginning to fall asleep at the console when an obnoxiously loud siren began wailing. He started, rocking back in the command center's seat and muttering an annoyed string of cusses. "Dammit," he hissed, "I thought the thinking was over for the night. Screw!"

As he quickly scanned the thought being formed he realized "screw" was indeed the operative word and winced. Thoughts like this had to be processed thoroughly- and that meant it had to go through the Conscience. When the Conscience processed thoughts, they rarely came out well. With a resigned sigh, he tagged the thought and directed it down into the decision-making centers.

****

The young man twisted, an odd smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Wordlessly, he reached over and pressed his hand to his love's cheek, pulling her in for a gentle kiss.

****

In a domed white room far below the control center, a portion of the ceiling irised open. The tagged thought floated in, a glowing ball demanding both attention and activation. Two pairs of eyes watched it enter- then their gaze fixed upon each other. The battle of wills had begun.

"Don't you dare," the first said. "You've let him have quite enough of that already." Clad in a white button-down shirt and loose white khakis, he looked in every other way identical to the young man he inhabited. Thick brown hair, parted to one side, narrow ovoid glasses, a lean, wiry build, and a boyish face that seemed far too young for his real age. And until recently, he'd been the stronger of the two in the chamber.

The other said nothing for a moment, standing and smoothing down her red silk dress. Just as Good was a mirror image of the young man, she was a mirror image of the woman he was with. Evil, however, was far more lenient about her dress-code. The red dress was as short as it could possibly be - it barely reached her thighs - and the thin spaghetti-straps that held it had a tendency to slip down off her shoulders. Aside from that, she wore only a matching silk thong. Her wavy chestnut hair hung freely down her back, leaving the delicate red horns on her temples clearly visible. A fuzzy red cat's tail curled out from beneath her dress, twitching slowly. "Enough?" she laughed. "There's no such thing."

"Seven times," Good reminded her. "Seven times in less than thirty-six hours. And then only because [she] had to go to work!" The Conscience shook his head, still amazed. "That's more than enough."

Evil walked over, allowing her hips to sway suggestively with each step. Like the girl she impersonated, she had an amazing figure. A mercury sculpture of curves and fluid grace that no man could resist - including the one trapped in the room with her. "Oh hush. They both enjoyed it."

"And they were EXHAUSTED afterwards! Three times in two hours - what were you thinking?" Good winced. "How did I LET you pull that off?"

"He had plenty of energy at work today. Best day he's had in months, actually." She finished crossing the room and sat down on the pillowed bench beside him. "You let me because you love me."

Good edged away from the demonic temptress, glaring daggers. "No," he growled, "you love ME. Far too frequently."

Evil scooted in, curling her tail around his waist and pulling him back to her. "I don't hear you complaining then," she purred seductively.

****

Dante watched the Conscience dome with growing frustration, witnessing the repercussions outside. His charge was kissing far more passionately now, running his hands up and down his lover's back. In another few seconds, he'd probably slip his hands under her shirt. If that happened, if he touched bare skin, the conclusion was probably forgone, whether the Conscience reached a decision or not. Evil had made her mark - these days, lust tended to win by default.

****

"Vile succubus! Off!" Good tried to push her away, but he could not find the strength to really shove her - if he did, he knew he'd feel horribly guilty about it. Thus, Evil continued to pull him closer. Her right hand slipped under the hem of his shirt, dragging her nails lightly across his back as it slid higher. Good shivered, arching his shoulders as soothing tingles ran through his body. Evil had discovered that weak point quickly, and used it against him at every opportunity. When his senses stopped reeling, he found her straddling his waist, gazing down at him through eyes hooded with lust.

Her nails dragged lightly across his shoulder-blades, drawing a low gasp from Good. "You don't mean that," she whispered in his ear. He could not figure out if it was a statement or a command, but either way she was right. With her thighs resting on his lap, he could feel the growing heat between them. Evil was almost always in a perpetual state of arousal, and it got worse the closer she got to him.

"I miss the Imp," he whimpered, desperately fighting back his own ardor. Evil shifted her hips slightly, sinking further onto his lap. Her answer was low and husky.

"You don't mean that either." Her breath tickled as she drew closer, trailing soft kisses down the side of his neck.

Good stifled his relief - while it felt nice, his neck was not as vulnerable as he let her believe. The relief evaporated as she kissed her way back up behind his ear and let out a breathy moan. "Please," she urged, "I want you. I NEED you... need you inside me." Another deep, lustful groan. "Fuck me," Evil pleaded.

****

Dante glared daggers at the screen as Evil continued to seduce Good. The imp she'd replaced was mischievous but easily ignored or controlled. But when SHE arrived on the scene... Dante buried his face in his hands. Good never stood a chance. Ever.

"Aw screw!" he cursed. Outside, the two lovers were thoroughly entwined, the man's fingers darting indecisively back and forth across under her shirt, brushing against her bra's clasp. In the command center, Dante watched helplessly, knowing the conclusion was forgone. "Oh, get rid of the damn thing and move on already!" he grumbled.

****

Good's resistance had all but melted away. Evil knew his every turn-on, and worse, exactly how to use it against him. Her fingers flew over the buttons on his shirt, undoing them with practiced ease, then went to work on his belt. Seconds later, her hand was in his pants - for all her need, her touch was gentle and light. She stroked him softly, running her fingertips along the underside of his manhood as she continued her lustful noise in his ear. "I want you so bad," she begged him, grinding her hips against the growing arousal in his khakis.

Of their own accord, his hands lifted to her chest. Though her breasts were not terribly large or impressive, they were amazingly responsive. Evil gasped as his palms brushed over her nipples, eliciting a loud wail from the lustful Conscience. Her tail lashed wildly, tangling itself around his thin gold halo. "Oh god, yes!" she squealed triumphantly, tugging upwards on his hard shaft. There was an audible squish as the bulge in his pants dug into the fabric of her red thong.

The last of Good's willpower vanished. He wriggled a bit, freeing his manhood from the restrictions of fabric. Evil paused her thrashing, her smile becoming more genuine as she beheld his erection once again. For a lean, wiry youth of only five-foot six, his cock was surprisingly large. Just over eight inches of thick, slightly curved meat rose up from his lap towards her. But just as she seemed the embodiment of Lust, it was also her weakness.

Her free hand reached down to pull aside the sodden crotch of her thong, when Good gripped her wrist. Her smile twisted, became innocent confusion. "What's wrong?" she cried, genuinely puzzled. Good ignored her for a moment, pulling her other hand away from his rod and pulling it behind him. His arms then encircled her waist, pulling Evil roughly against him - his bare head pressed into her silken underwear with a wet squelch. "Oh my GOD!" she gasped breathlessly.

Good let out a throaty chuckle. "You want me?" he drawled, shifting his hips and pressing further into her sex. Evil yelped, twisting on his lap.

"God yes!" she moaned. "Oh god -"

"That's GOOD, not God."

"-Just FUCK ME!"

"Ah-ah-ah," he chided, holding her fast. "You're on my terms now, my dear."

****

In the command center, Dante breathed a sigh of relief. The tricky bastard had some fight left after all. His charge paused, withdrawing his hands from his lover's shirt. She looked at him longingly, her eyes sparkling with tears of love and happiness... but they betrayed a slight disappointment too. She wanted him to go further. Probably, a lot further.

"What a little sex-kitten," Dante chuckled, shaking his head. "Why'd I bother routing that thing through Conscience anyway?"

"For the show those two give everyone else," a voice behind him quipped. Dante didn't bother turning around.

"Yeah, they do put on quite a display, don't they?" he mused. "Good and Evil - who'd have figured they'd suit each other so well? Or fornicate like hormonally-imbalanced lapines, for that matter."

"I would."

"ONLY you, Lucas."

****

I like what I have so far, although I'm sure I could be a [bit] more descriptive. But what I really need is some suggestions on how to continue writing. Not so much in the action (after all, I'm pretty familiar with my two Consciences by now) but just sort of "helper" to get me past this little sticky point.

And of course, constructive criticism is always good!

 

[dante_ragnarok]

STORY 2 - "The Art of Theft"

This one was inspired by Shoplifter by Greenmouse. But while I liked the idea, I wasn't overly impressed with the story. And working in an office-supply store gave me some ideas of my own. So... here we go.

****

Joseph shifted his feet uneasily, standing beside one of the new mahogany desks as he waited for the store to close. Never terribly bright, his distinction between "right" and "wrong" was easily blurred, but he still had the uncomfortable feeling that the plan was bad, and he was beginning to have doubts. Sensing his discomfort, Joseph's partner in crime rose from a nearby office chair.

"Relax, will you? You're making [me] nervous," Kari whispered, laying a hand on his shoulder. "It'll be another five minutes yet, at least. Pull up a chair and relax for a bit." Her voice was light, but always seemed to carry a hard, commanding edge. Combined with her sharp, Asian features, she was and would probably always be a woman who commanded respect. And even when that failed, her sensuous curves and pert breasts tended to persuade even the most reluctant individuals. Case in point, Joseph immediately grabbed a chair and sat down.

Thin and gangly, Joseph was not exactly what most women considered a dream date. His intelligence was perhaps twenty points above retarded, in fact, but he did have his uses. Kari had learned of at least one during her senior year, when she'd dated him. He knew how to please a girl in ways the typical man couldn't begin to fathom. That was the reason Kari had brought him along tonight.

For weeks, she'd been noticing a strange disappearance of art supplies from her store. Finally, after writing off almost two hundred bucks in Prismacolor, she'd had security cameras installed discreetly. At first, they'd picked up nothing, only being on during the day. But when the theft continued, Kari decided to let them run for a full night as well. And it was then that she'd seen a young lady appear from the direction of the restrooms and fill her backpack with 48-count packages of Prismacolor and Crayola, before exiting in the same direction. It was a small office-supply store, and a cluttered alley ran behind it- presumably, the girl was hiding in the restrooms, then exiting through the window there.

8:20 PM- the doors were locked, the registers closed, and the shelves restocked for the night. Automatically, the lights switched off. Kari breathed a sigh of anticipation. Soon, she'd be able to deal personally with the little klepto...

****

Denise smiled to herself as she unlatched the restroom stall. An art-student at the local college, she was broke most of the time. When she'd gotten her final assignments for the year, she realized she had none of the supplies to complete them. At first, she'd tried borrowing from the campus art studio, but unlike her highschool they carried very little- expecting that the students provide their own media. She'd tried other avenues, but all of them bore the same results. Nothing.

Finally, she'd decided that theft was the only way to get the supplies she needed. So she'd liberated a pack of soft-lead pencils from "Office Shack." When she'd needed markers and pencils, she went back the following week. At first, it was out of necessity, but as she escaped the store for the fourth night, it began to amuse her how easy stealing was. Tonight, she'd decided to try a different approach. A friend had told her of some high-ticket software she could sell on EBay that could easily bring her out of poverty, and maybe some extra besides.

Silently, she padded down the hallway from the restrooms and past the desk lamps. She wore only socks, having left her shoes in the stall nearest the restroom window, and the tile floor felt cold under her feet. Suddenly, one of the desk lamps switched on.

"Don't you have enough colored pencils already, young lady?" a woman asked from the shadows beyond the desk. Denise froze, unsure of what to say or do. Behind her, someone coughed, and she spun around, finding herself face-to-chest with Joseph. Not that he was tall- he was only six-foot-one- but he had nearly a full foot on Denise.

"You needn't be afraid of him, girl," the woman intoned with a menacing chuckle. "I'm the one you've been stealing from."

The art student couldn't seem to find her voice, but she quickly discovered that her legs still worked. She ducked low and made a panicked dash back towards the restrooms. However, she hadn't gone more than two steps before her feet shot out from under her, socks finding no purchase on the waxed tiles. Denise winced, expecting the sudden jarring impact on her tailbone, but it never came.

Joseph snagged her roughly by the arm and hauled into the air, lifting her feet well above the ground. Locking her shoulders in his arms, he carried her back to the desk. Kari had walked around it now, and was standing in front of her, smiling coldly. "I wouldn't suggest running in bare feet, girl. You might slip and crack your head on one of these desks, or smash a lamp. You know what they say, 'You break it, you buy it.' Buy being the operative term here."

"W...what are you going to do?" Denise whispered, her voice trembling but working at last.

"I'm going to give you a choice, hon," Kari replied, waving a hand absently at Joseph. "Put her down, Joseph. Go get that returns basket on the front counter." As Joseph began to walk away, Denise considered bolting again. Then Kari's hand latched onto her bicep, gripping her like a vice. She knew the shop owner was probably stronger than the "muscle" she was ordering around, and discarded the idea. "Please, sit down."

Warily, Denise took a seat in one of the plush office chairs. Kari walked around, switching on a few more desk lamps, until the furniture area resembled a small but cozy study. She began to wonder exactly what kind of trouble she was in. "What's your name, girl?" the shop owner asked.

"Denise Cunningham," she answered cautiously.

"Well, Denise, you've got three options. Option one, you return all the stolen merchandise, paying for any that's been damaged or opened. Option two, you keep it, I turn you into the authorities along with taped evidence, and you pay a heavy fine and possibly some jail time. Or option three, we can settle up here and now, and I let you leave without legal entanglements." Kari stopped pacing and leaned back against a tall walnut bookcase.

"You'd do that...? Three, I mean."

"I would, if that's what you'd prefer."

"It is... but ma'am, I can't. I go to college over at RC3. I can't even afford dinner if it's not on the meal plan." Denise looked stricken. "I can't return the supplies, I need them for school. And most all of them are opened anyway. How am I supposed to pay you back?"

Joseph made his presence known by unwinding a long reel of tape and binding it roughly around her shoulders, pinning her to the back of the chair. She reached back, trying to undo it, and cried out as both her wrists were forced together and bound tight with clear packing tape. Kari grinned like the Mad Hatter.

"I thought you'd never ask..."

****

Minutes later, Denise was secured firmly to the office chair, her ankles taped fast to the splayed wheelstruts, arms stretched uncomfortably far behind her back, and a thick piece of tape across her mouth to stifle any screams of protest. Kari nodded appreciatively at Joseph's handiwork.

It had taken her several days to decide the correct method of punishment when, channel-surfing one night, she'd come across a particularly raunchy Cinemax feature and been given this sudden spark of inspiration. Few things were as frustrating and humiliating as having someone else in control of your body, and after reviewing the tapes, Kari had decided that Denise's body definitely warrented that punishment. Though she never wore anything particularly appealing or form-fitting, it was plain to see that the art student was gifted with a figure that made her own seem flabby by comparison. Her long brown hair was piled up in a thick bun, held in place with a chopstick and a #2 pencil, though some loose strands dangled over her thin brows. They framed a delicate set of Grecian features, and as Kari examined her more closely, decided she couldn't be more than nineteen years old. A far cry from her own twenty-eight, but still quite legal for what the shopkeeper had in mind.

Like most artists at her school, Denise was more concerned with function than appearance. She wore a thick grey hoodie and sweatpants to match, and the shoes she'd left in the restroom were ratty crosstrainers, two years past their prime. Denise by contrast was as sensible about her appearance as she was about her business. Her longsleeve blouse was as thin as she could stand to wear for this time of year, and her skirt was the minimum length allowed- by her own dresscode. She wore underwear only because it was required- again, her own dresscode- but she'd placed no minimums there. Joseph stood behind her now, looking uneasy again. He worked in a warehouse, and wore whatever he felt like- today, jeans and a turtleneck.

"It's like this, honey," Kari declared, leaning over the chair until her face was inches from Denise's. She rested her hands on the edges of the chair, just behind the girl's hips, and whispered confidentially, "I'll let your kleptomania slide and handle the cost myself. But you have to give me my money's worth. And since that money's gone into your education, I'm going to teach you a few lessons myself." Kari's grin widened, amused by her own wordplay.

Her fingers rose, trailing gently over Denise's hips and coming to rest along the waistband of her sweats. "The first is something every student should know, and take to heart," the shopkeeper informed her, edging her fingertips under the hem of Denise's hoodie and brushing over her ribs as they lifted. Denise squirmed, emitting panicked squeals through the tape as Kari pulled the hooded sweatshirt upwards, exposing the soft skin underneath. When she felt the edge of the girl's bra, she paused. "Make sure you come to class prepared." Deftly, she slipped a thin box-cutter from the sleeve of her blouse, running her hands over the bra until they met in front before edging the sharp blade under the strap and slicing the front of Denise's bra open, letting the frightened girl's breasts fall free under her shirt. Kari crooned softly, brushing the back of her hand over the warm flesh she'd released. The box-cutter disappeared back into her sleeve.

"That's a nice pair you've got, honey," she declared, cupping the girl's breasts. Denise screamed, working her mouth in a futile attempt to dislodge the tape. Her body jerked, trying to pull away, but her struggles only pressed her pert rack into Kari's hands. Her eyes squeezed shut, trying to shut off the sudden reaction she knew was already happening. She'd always had sensitive nipples, and Kari's gentle caress was exactly what she didn't need. Her delicate buttons expanded, becoming as stiff as pencil erasers.

The woman smiled appreciatively, grasping them between her fingers and twisting slightly. Denise spasmed, crying out as much in pleasure as in frustration. She heaved desperately, trying to shake her assailant off, and nearly toppled the chair. Kari scowled, straightening. Edging forward, she straddled Keri, wrapping her legs around the back of the chair and placing herself squarely on the girl's lap. Again, she drew the box-cutter, making short, jagged cuts down the hoodie until she'd sliced the front open from neck to hem. Devoid of both bra and sweatshirt, Denise's chest lay exposed to Kari's ministrations. Again, she took the girl's nipples between her fingers, but rather than twist them, she bent closer and ran her tongue over the tips. Denise spasmed again, but she could not jerk free of Kari's touch. The woman's tongue played over each nipple, leaving wet trails around them as she elicited the girl's arousal. Already, she could feel Denise giving in... her struggles were less panicked and her groans were growing more husky with each minute that passed.

"Joseph, your turn," Kari directed, standing back up. The young man smiled, his anxiety gone upon seeing Denise so exposed. He took up a position behind her, kneeling as his hands reached around to her chest. Expertly, he gripped each nipple lightly with his fingertips, twisting and tugging, mauling and massaging her breasts until the only sounds the girl made were pleasured whimpers. Her hips began shifting slightly as she tried to grind herself against the chair.

"Second lesson," the shop owner muttered, unbuttoning her blouse. "Don't do anything if you can't handle the consequences." The lustful sounds Denise uttered quickly transformed into a startled, angry squeal as Kari's fingers dipped under her waistband. Ignoring her feeble attempts to squirm away, the woman pulled Denise's sweatpants from her hips, dragging them down until they were bunched around her calves, just above the tape. Kari then gripped her knees, forcing them apart. Denise sobbed as the crotch of her panties was exposed- sodden and translucent with her arousal. She wore a dark blue string bikini, and her pussy lips pressed tight against the thin satin fabric. There was a wet squish as Kari pressed her fingers against it. "Mmm, you're enjoying this aren't you," she stated, massaging the soaking panties against the girl's swollen sex. Denise let out another frustrated sob, tears leaking down her cheeks. The sob became a low moan as Joseph continued mauling her breasts. Once, when Kari was stil with Joseph, he'd made her cum just touching her breasts. He wasn't a brilliant man, but he was a genius between the sheets.

Kari worked her fingers upwards, exploring Denise's sodden cleft until she found the hard nub she'd been looking for. As her fingertips brushed against the girl's clit, Denise jerked as if electrocuted, inhaling sharply as her hips bucked. The shopkeeper drew her hand away, producing the box-cutter once more. Its keen blade sliced easily through the thin waistband of Denise's bikini. As Kari pulled the soggy material away from the girl's body, she admired the soft swell of her mound and the bare, shaved skin above it.

****

Again... main difficulty is just that I dunno where to go from here. So, suggestions & criticisms welcome.

 

[dante_ragnarok]

Aww... no thoughts yet?
I promised story attempts... everyone just bored because I stopped before the [good] stuff?

 

[dr_mabeuse]

Aww... no thoughts yet?
I promised story attempts... everyone just bored because I stopped before the [good] stuff?

No man, We don't post stories here for criticism and comments. Bad ettiquette We usually do that on the Story Feedback Board. I doubt anyone's even read what you posted here. Sorry.

What's a WIP anyhow? A Work Improvement Program? In other words, what they put you on before they shitcan you?

Oh right! Work In Progress.

 

[dante_ragnarok]

Sorry... I checked around to see if there was some kind of board for that, but didn't find it. Must've just overlooked it. Any form of forum moderator or admin around here who could move this for me?

 

[TheEarl]

No moderator mate. We regulate ourselves. Best thing to do is just to not post here any more and t'll sink to the bottom of the forum.

The Earl