It passed through the millions of little holes in your screens. It slipped through the vents in your home. It slid under the door into your bedroom. It oozed up from your floor and came crashing down on your bed. It got between your clothes and slipped over your skin.
It felt pretty great.
A year ago it was born in a sexual science laboratory. Someone got a little careless and a tiny little accident happened. A lot of sex lubricants mingled with some vibration nanobots and then somehow that got electrocuted and then someone spilled a carbonated drink. The resulting self-recreating Lubricant Blob Monster slipped down a drain and traveled the pipes to freedom.
What did the Lubricant Blob Monster want? Who knew? It seemed to understand that it was made of mostly sexual aids and this drove its monstrous behavior. It liked to get into tight places and it especially liked to get into tight people. It oozed onto them with its incredibly slippery body and the billions of tiny vibrating nanobots excited sensations and feelings that most people had never experienced. It slipped and slid over the bodies of the people it ‘attacked’ and then usually slipped away shortly after orgasm. It was almost as if it knew it was no longer needed.
Thanks to the spilt carbonated drink, the Lubricant Blob Monster had a refreshing lemon lime flavor.
Play With This is a series of articles designed to give you things to play around with in your writing. Feel free to borrow, modify, or completely change for your own stories.
.JPG)
Friday, November 30, 2012
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Fiction: Unidentified Bruising Asshole
Explorer’s Log: I am currently in week two of my four week journey to the star system designated Queen’s Intimate Clench by Royal Astronomers. There is a lot of interference coming from a nearby pulsar and scans are limited. My inability to conduct stellar surveys has given me a lot more time on my hands. Nothing to report here. If something happens, I’ll let you know. End Explorer’s Log.
Explorer’s Personal Log: Where are these fucking bruises coming from?
Vaquel Di looked closer at the mirror. Her brown body stared back at her. She combed her fingers through her short pink hair. She reached down and checked through her thick bush of pink pubic hair. She lifted each of her heavy breasts and looked at her rib cage. Finally, she turned around and examined her round ass.
She hissed. There was a bruise on her right ass cheek. It was as big as her hand. The angry looking bruise appeared to be from a rough spanking.
It had been weeks since she had been spanked. Worse, the bruise hadn’t been there yesterday.
Vaquel sighed. That made for three mysterious bruises in the last three days.
The first bruise had been on her tit. It looked a lot like a bite. She just assumed it was a bruise she had missed when she fucked the fish alien two weeks ago.
The second bruise was on her inner left thigh. It was small but tender as if it happened recently. Vaquel couldn’t dismiss this one as easily. As much as she fucked herself, Vaquel was familiar with every inch of her thighs. That was when she knew something was happening.
The third bruise confirmed it. Vaquel had spent the day being extra careful to not cause any sort of accidental bruises. She had checked her biochemistry in the medical bay to make sure she didn’t have some sort of vitamin deficiency. When she went to bed that night, she reduced the gravity of the ship to make for a gentler sleep.
It didn’t matter. She still had a new bruise. Something was happening when she slept.
Vaquel thought about reporting it back to Royal Navy Command. She frowned at what they would make of it. Deep Space Explorers frequently go insane. If they became convinced that she was mentally unstable, then her future reports might not even get read. The twenty year mission could be one long delay before being committed to a mental institute.
“I am going to need answers before I report this,” she said.
Vaquel spent the day planning. The pulsar interference made scanning the nearby space impossible. It didn’t stop her from recording the inside of the ship.
Before she went to sleep, Vaquel set up five separate recording devices. She had the interior of the ship fully watched. The next bruise she got, she would have video of it.
Vaquel went to sleep confident that she would have answers.
She woke up with a new bruise. This time it was her right nipple. There were teeth marks. Her nipple was tender and sore.
Vaquel went to the camera pointed at her sleeping bay. She activated the playback and watched. Everything was normal until an hour after she started sleeping. The video glitched and when it resumed, it was an hour before Vaquel woke up.
“Comet fuckers,” Vaquel swore.
She checked the second camera pointed at her sleeping bay. It was the same. The camera pointed at the main living quarters had malfunctioned as well. The camera pointed at the airlock was glitched. Even the camera in the navigation pod had malfunctioned.
Vaquel felt a chill go down her naked body. For the first time in a long time, she was very aware of how alone she was out here in unexplored space. There was no backup. There was no rescue possible. Someone or something had invaded her ship, sabotaged her equipment and left bruises on her. That same someone could just as easily kill her.
Vaquel spent the day in the medical bay. The automated doctor was capable of performing surgery on her but it did less well with prescribing drugs for a hypothetical situation. That was okay. Vaquel was a smart woman.
When she got frustrated with all the medical jargon she touched the bruise on her nipple. The sensitive flesh flashed with pain. Vaquel winced from the tenderness but it was exactly what she needed. It was a reminder to keep studying.
That night, Vaquel took a double dose of a stimulants designed to help snipers maintain a seventy hour vigil on a target. Vaquel planned to feign being asleep and then surprising her unknown assailant. She kept a needle pistol under her pillow and a laser scalpel palmed in her hand.
She waited while the heart thumping stimulant raced through her body.
Vaquel awoke in the sleeping bay. Her eyes popped open and she reached for the needle pistol. It was still there but she didn’t feel any better. Despite nearly risking a heart attack with the stimulants, she had still fallen asleep.
“Black hole sucking fuckers!” Vaquel swore.
She stumbled to the mirror. There was no need to search for the bruise. It was right there on her face. A large hand print was on her left cheek. Something with three fingers had slapped her.
Vaquel touched the bruise. It hurt. Whomever did this must have slapped the crap out of her.
She planned to return the favor. She thought about laying traps around the ship but the easy way that the intruder disabled the cameras was discouraging. Setting the ship’s weapons to autofire was pointless due to the pulsar’s interference. For a little while, Vaquel entertained the idea of applying a topical poison to her skin and poisoning her intruder but she gave that up when she realized that she had no idea what would be toxic to an alien life form.
Vaquel went back to the medical bay. Staying awake wasn’t the answer but maybe she could control how she slept. She looked to see if she could induce a form of sleep that left her conscious.
It only too her an hour to find a drug that would do what she wanted. Sleep-Creep was designed by some fetishists three centuries ago. Her medical bay synthesized it easily.
That night Vaquel went to bed. The Sleep-Creep dissolved on her tongue. A powerful lethargy came over her. Her arms were too heavy to lift. Eyelids dropped down to half open. She watched her breasts slowly rise and fall as if she was in a deep sleep.
The probe ship shook as it made contact with something. A blue light passed over the ship and systems shut down. Vaquel tried to smile but her face wouldn’t respond.
The airlock opened. A green alien stepped through. He was long and spindly. His head looked too big for the rest of his spindly body to support. Blank black eyes peered out above a slender mouth.
The green intruder approached her sleeping bay. The being carried no equipment and didn’t appear to be wearing clothes. It reached for her breast with a three fingered hand that Vaquel recognized. The hand matched the bruise on her face.
It grabbed her breast and squeezed. Vaquel tried to wince but she was paralyzed. The hand was much stronger than it appeared. It crushed her breast like a vice. No wonder she had so many bruises!
The alien toyed with her breast. It sank spindly fingers into her soft flesh. One finger rubbed her nipple and it grew hard in response. The alien groped her breast with methodical attention.
Vaquel felt herself grow wet. The bastard knew what it was doing.
The alien reached between her thighs. A probing finger pushed past her pink pubic hair and into her brown pussy. The finger entered her and slid deeply in.
Vaquel’s mouth sighed. Vaquel watched as he hips rose to meet the alien’s finger. She experienced her body giving in to the alien’s manipulations.
The alien opened its mouth and lunged for Vaquel’s other breast. Instinctively she tried to jerk back but her body refused to obey. She watched in silent horror as the alien bit down on her nipple.
Sharp pain lanced through her breast. He was ruthlessly biting her and there was nothing she could do. Her back arched towards him on its own. A moan escaped her lips. Vaquel was furious but her body was in pleasure.
The alien finger fucked her faster. The wet squishy sounds of his probing finger filled the sleeping bay. Another finger rubbed against her clitoris, stimulating her with a rhythm completely divorced from the finger that was fucking her. The third finger arced down between her buttocks and pushed firmly against her anus. It was one hell of a talented hand.
Vaquel watched as the alien’s complexion changed. The deep green skin was lightening to a dull gray. The color change started on the alien’s head and was flushing down to his shoulders.
The alien released her nipple. It kept finger fucking her but it raised its other hand. Vaquel knew it was going to slap her but there was nothing she could it to dodge it.
SLAP! It slapped her across the face. Her head snapped with the blow and her cheek burned from the contact.
SLAP! It backhanded her and her face rolled in to the other direction.
SLAP! SLAP SLAP! SLAP! It slapped her head back and forth with a force that was unexpected for such a spindly body.
Through out it all, the other hand kept fucking her. One finger slipped quickly in and out of her wet pussy. Another finger pushed into her anus and then slowly pulled out. The third finger rubbed her clitoris with surprising speed. Vaquel wished she could see how exactly one hand could have such independently moving fingers but she was also content to just feel it all.
Vaquel’s body slowly betrayed her. Her nipples were hard and her pussy was wet. Every slap of her face made her clench tighter. Every thrust into her anus was making her body shiver. Every rub of her clitoris was curling her toes. Every thrust into her pussy was bringing her closer to climax.
She wanted to block the alien’s slapping hand. She wanted to grab the alien’s head and twist his neck. She wanted to lift her hips and fuck his fingers. She wanted to do something, anything, but her body was helpless. She could only watch as the alien slapped and fucked her.
Vaquel climaxed. Pleasure exploded within her body. She cried out with a voice that wasn’t hers to control.
Endorphins flooded her blood stream. It interacted with subdermal implants that the automated doctor installed earlier. The subdermal implants released an antidote to the Sleep-Creep her body was infused with.
Vaquel cried out as she regained control of her body.
The alien paused in mid slap. His gray coloring reverted back to green.
Vaquel punched one of his over sized eyes. The alien tried to pull back but Vaquel’s pussy was clenched tight around his finger. He tugged but she wouldn’t let go.
She punched the alien again. She punched him so hard that this time his finger popped out of her pussy. As he fell backwards, Vaquel backhanded him with all of her might.
The alien’s head spun around so hard that the rest of his body spun with him. The alien collapsed to the ground.
Vaquel climbed out of bed. She tried to stand and fell to the ground. The antidote hadn’t fully cycled through her body yet.
The alien emitted a terrified squeal and scrambled up to his feet. He ran for the airlock. He paused to look behind him. Vaquel smiled at the handprint she had left on its face.
The alien ran through the airlock and it sealed behind him. The ship shook as the alien’s ship unattached itself.
Vaquel was still smiling at the sight of the handprint on the alien’s face. She had a feeling that the bruises were going to stop.
Explorer’s Personal Log: Where are these fucking bruises coming from?
Vaquel Di looked closer at the mirror. Her brown body stared back at her. She combed her fingers through her short pink hair. She reached down and checked through her thick bush of pink pubic hair. She lifted each of her heavy breasts and looked at her rib cage. Finally, she turned around and examined her round ass.
She hissed. There was a bruise on her right ass cheek. It was as big as her hand. The angry looking bruise appeared to be from a rough spanking.
It had been weeks since she had been spanked. Worse, the bruise hadn’t been there yesterday.
Vaquel sighed. That made for three mysterious bruises in the last three days.
The first bruise had been on her tit. It looked a lot like a bite. She just assumed it was a bruise she had missed when she fucked the fish alien two weeks ago.
The second bruise was on her inner left thigh. It was small but tender as if it happened recently. Vaquel couldn’t dismiss this one as easily. As much as she fucked herself, Vaquel was familiar with every inch of her thighs. That was when she knew something was happening.
The third bruise confirmed it. Vaquel had spent the day being extra careful to not cause any sort of accidental bruises. She had checked her biochemistry in the medical bay to make sure she didn’t have some sort of vitamin deficiency. When she went to bed that night, she reduced the gravity of the ship to make for a gentler sleep.
It didn’t matter. She still had a new bruise. Something was happening when she slept.
Vaquel thought about reporting it back to Royal Navy Command. She frowned at what they would make of it. Deep Space Explorers frequently go insane. If they became convinced that she was mentally unstable, then her future reports might not even get read. The twenty year mission could be one long delay before being committed to a mental institute.
“I am going to need answers before I report this,” she said.
Vaquel spent the day planning. The pulsar interference made scanning the nearby space impossible. It didn’t stop her from recording the inside of the ship.
Before she went to sleep, Vaquel set up five separate recording devices. She had the interior of the ship fully watched. The next bruise she got, she would have video of it.
Vaquel went to sleep confident that she would have answers.
She woke up with a new bruise. This time it was her right nipple. There were teeth marks. Her nipple was tender and sore.
Vaquel went to the camera pointed at her sleeping bay. She activated the playback and watched. Everything was normal until an hour after she started sleeping. The video glitched and when it resumed, it was an hour before Vaquel woke up.
“Comet fuckers,” Vaquel swore.
She checked the second camera pointed at her sleeping bay. It was the same. The camera pointed at the main living quarters had malfunctioned as well. The camera pointed at the airlock was glitched. Even the camera in the navigation pod had malfunctioned.
Vaquel felt a chill go down her naked body. For the first time in a long time, she was very aware of how alone she was out here in unexplored space. There was no backup. There was no rescue possible. Someone or something had invaded her ship, sabotaged her equipment and left bruises on her. That same someone could just as easily kill her.
Vaquel spent the day in the medical bay. The automated doctor was capable of performing surgery on her but it did less well with prescribing drugs for a hypothetical situation. That was okay. Vaquel was a smart woman.
When she got frustrated with all the medical jargon she touched the bruise on her nipple. The sensitive flesh flashed with pain. Vaquel winced from the tenderness but it was exactly what she needed. It was a reminder to keep studying.
That night, Vaquel took a double dose of a stimulants designed to help snipers maintain a seventy hour vigil on a target. Vaquel planned to feign being asleep and then surprising her unknown assailant. She kept a needle pistol under her pillow and a laser scalpel palmed in her hand.
She waited while the heart thumping stimulant raced through her body.
Vaquel awoke in the sleeping bay. Her eyes popped open and she reached for the needle pistol. It was still there but she didn’t feel any better. Despite nearly risking a heart attack with the stimulants, she had still fallen asleep.
“Black hole sucking fuckers!” Vaquel swore.
She stumbled to the mirror. There was no need to search for the bruise. It was right there on her face. A large hand print was on her left cheek. Something with three fingers had slapped her.
Vaquel touched the bruise. It hurt. Whomever did this must have slapped the crap out of her.
She planned to return the favor. She thought about laying traps around the ship but the easy way that the intruder disabled the cameras was discouraging. Setting the ship’s weapons to autofire was pointless due to the pulsar’s interference. For a little while, Vaquel entertained the idea of applying a topical poison to her skin and poisoning her intruder but she gave that up when she realized that she had no idea what would be toxic to an alien life form.
Vaquel went back to the medical bay. Staying awake wasn’t the answer but maybe she could control how she slept. She looked to see if she could induce a form of sleep that left her conscious.
It only too her an hour to find a drug that would do what she wanted. Sleep-Creep was designed by some fetishists three centuries ago. Her medical bay synthesized it easily.
That night Vaquel went to bed. The Sleep-Creep dissolved on her tongue. A powerful lethargy came over her. Her arms were too heavy to lift. Eyelids dropped down to half open. She watched her breasts slowly rise and fall as if she was in a deep sleep.
The probe ship shook as it made contact with something. A blue light passed over the ship and systems shut down. Vaquel tried to smile but her face wouldn’t respond.
The airlock opened. A green alien stepped through. He was long and spindly. His head looked too big for the rest of his spindly body to support. Blank black eyes peered out above a slender mouth.
The green intruder approached her sleeping bay. The being carried no equipment and didn’t appear to be wearing clothes. It reached for her breast with a three fingered hand that Vaquel recognized. The hand matched the bruise on her face.
It grabbed her breast and squeezed. Vaquel tried to wince but she was paralyzed. The hand was much stronger than it appeared. It crushed her breast like a vice. No wonder she had so many bruises!
The alien toyed with her breast. It sank spindly fingers into her soft flesh. One finger rubbed her nipple and it grew hard in response. The alien groped her breast with methodical attention.
Vaquel felt herself grow wet. The bastard knew what it was doing.
The alien reached between her thighs. A probing finger pushed past her pink pubic hair and into her brown pussy. The finger entered her and slid deeply in.
Vaquel’s mouth sighed. Vaquel watched as he hips rose to meet the alien’s finger. She experienced her body giving in to the alien’s manipulations.
The alien opened its mouth and lunged for Vaquel’s other breast. Instinctively she tried to jerk back but her body refused to obey. She watched in silent horror as the alien bit down on her nipple.
Sharp pain lanced through her breast. He was ruthlessly biting her and there was nothing she could do. Her back arched towards him on its own. A moan escaped her lips. Vaquel was furious but her body was in pleasure.
The alien finger fucked her faster. The wet squishy sounds of his probing finger filled the sleeping bay. Another finger rubbed against her clitoris, stimulating her with a rhythm completely divorced from the finger that was fucking her. The third finger arced down between her buttocks and pushed firmly against her anus. It was one hell of a talented hand.
Vaquel watched as the alien’s complexion changed. The deep green skin was lightening to a dull gray. The color change started on the alien’s head and was flushing down to his shoulders.
The alien released her nipple. It kept finger fucking her but it raised its other hand. Vaquel knew it was going to slap her but there was nothing she could it to dodge it.
SLAP! It slapped her across the face. Her head snapped with the blow and her cheek burned from the contact.
SLAP! It backhanded her and her face rolled in to the other direction.
SLAP! SLAP SLAP! SLAP! It slapped her head back and forth with a force that was unexpected for such a spindly body.
Through out it all, the other hand kept fucking her. One finger slipped quickly in and out of her wet pussy. Another finger pushed into her anus and then slowly pulled out. The third finger rubbed her clitoris with surprising speed. Vaquel wished she could see how exactly one hand could have such independently moving fingers but she was also content to just feel it all.
Vaquel’s body slowly betrayed her. Her nipples were hard and her pussy was wet. Every slap of her face made her clench tighter. Every thrust into her anus was making her body shiver. Every rub of her clitoris was curling her toes. Every thrust into her pussy was bringing her closer to climax.
She wanted to block the alien’s slapping hand. She wanted to grab the alien’s head and twist his neck. She wanted to lift her hips and fuck his fingers. She wanted to do something, anything, but her body was helpless. She could only watch as the alien slapped and fucked her.
Vaquel climaxed. Pleasure exploded within her body. She cried out with a voice that wasn’t hers to control.
Endorphins flooded her blood stream. It interacted with subdermal implants that the automated doctor installed earlier. The subdermal implants released an antidote to the Sleep-Creep her body was infused with.
Vaquel cried out as she regained control of her body.
The alien paused in mid slap. His gray coloring reverted back to green.
Vaquel punched one of his over sized eyes. The alien tried to pull back but Vaquel’s pussy was clenched tight around his finger. He tugged but she wouldn’t let go.
She punched the alien again. She punched him so hard that this time his finger popped out of her pussy. As he fell backwards, Vaquel backhanded him with all of her might.
The alien’s head spun around so hard that the rest of his body spun with him. The alien collapsed to the ground.
Vaquel climbed out of bed. She tried to stand and fell to the ground. The antidote hadn’t fully cycled through her body yet.
The alien emitted a terrified squeal and scrambled up to his feet. He ran for the airlock. He paused to look behind him. Vaquel smiled at the handprint she had left on its face.
The alien ran through the airlock and it sealed behind him. The ship shook as the alien’s ship unattached itself.
Vaquel was still smiling at the sight of the handprint on the alien’s face. She had a feeling that the bruises were going to stop.
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
Fiction: Paddle Pawn
Uncle Bingo’s Pawn Shop asked me to come by and I was happy to do it. Uncle Bingo is the only pawn store dealer in Georgia willing to buy used sex toys and furniture. He also makes his own pulled pork in a shed in the back. When I come to consult for him, he always offers me a free plate. That is a good man.
I walked into the pawn store and Uncle Bingo waved at me from the front counter. There was a blonde woman waiting there and she had a cute little ass. Her face would have been pretty except that she was frowning and it looked like she frowned a lot. Unhappy women were both a weakness and a curse to me.
“Hey Ken,” Uncle Bingo said. “I would like you to meet Ms. Merrit here. Ms. Merrit, this is Ken Hale. He knows everything there is to know about paddles.”
Ms. Merrit’s frown didn’t improve any. I guess being an expert on paddles didn’t impress her any. “Pleased to meet you,” she lied.
“Pleased to meet you,” I said. Oh Lord, this was one unhappy woman. I wanted to run away from her something fierce. I also wanted to ask her out. I decided to stick to business.
“How are you doing, Uncle?” I asked.
“Not bad, Ken,” he said. “The pig has been cooking since four this morning so it should be ready soon. I was wondering if you could take a look at Ms. Merrit’s paddle for me first.”
“Sure, Uncle,” I said. I knew it had to be a rare paddle because when it came to sex toys, Uncle Bingo was pretty damn smart. The man had been selling handcuffs and crops since before I was born. If he needed my opinion, it has to be for something special.
I was right. He took out a beautiful paddle. It had a rich brown color to it that soaked in the light. Just by looking at it I could tell how well made it was. When he handed it to me, I was struck by how perfect the weight was. The leather grip felt good in my hand like it was made for it. This was something special all right.
I looked at the base of the handle and saw what I expected. It was signed RJ. This could be an original Randy Jack paddle.
“where did you get this?” I asked Ms. Merrit.
“It belonged to my father,” she said with a bit of disgust. “I knew he was sleeping around with the older women in the neighborhood but it wasn’t until he passed away that I discovered that he had a sex dungeon in the basement. I was going to throw it all out but my friend told me to take it to Uncle Bingo’s first.”
“Good thing you did,” Uncle Bingo said. “A trash man wouldn’t pay you a cent for those magazines, suspension rig or leather handcuffs. I was going to make her an offer on the paddle but I wanted you to see it first, Ken.”
“Well Uncle Bingo, what are your concerns with this paddle?” I asked.
“Mostly I just want to know if it is real,” Uncle Bingo said. “I know paddles but I have only seen one other Randy Jack paddle.”
“Who the fuck is Randy Jack?” Ms. Merrit said.
“Randy Jack was a spanker who made his own paddles in the 80’s,” I said. “He made paddles that were so good that other people tried to buy them from him. He wasn’t really interested in money and the paddles took a long time to make. He would give some away as gifts but that was it. We’re aren’t even sure how many he made.”
“So they are kind of rare?” Ms. Merrit said. Her frown started to improve ever so slightly. When people hear the term, rare, they associate it with money. Big money.
“A real Randy Jack paddle sold recently for ten thousand dollars,” I said.
“Fuck!” Ms. Merrit said. Her face was beautiful for a split second with happiness.
“That is IF it is real,” Uncle Bingo said.
“True,” I said. “If it is not a real Randy Jack, then it is just a really nice paddle. At that point, I wouldn’t put a retail value of more than fifty dollars.”
Ms. Merrit’s frown was back. “How do tell if it is real?”
I took a deep breath. “We got to test it. I have swung a few Randy Jack paddles in my time. I’ll be able to tell by the feel.”
“Then start swinging,” Ms. Merrit said. Uncle Jack was trying really hard not to laugh.
“It is not that simple,” I said. “Swinging a paddle in the air is pointless. Randy Jack made these paddles so that they would hit asses. You can tell by the sound they make, by the way the feel feels in your hand when it impacts an ass and by the marks it leaves on the ass. The only real way to test it is on an ass.”
“Don’t look at me,” Uncle Bingo said. “My ass don’t get hit by nobody.”
“Can you get one of your employees?” Ms. Merrit said.
“I ain’t got no employees,” Uncle Bingo said. “That is how I got such low overhead.”
“I will need to be the one swinging it in order to accurately judge authenticity,” I said.
Ms. Merrit bit her lip and frowned some more. She was shaking her head.
“A little bit of spanking could make the difference between fifty and thousands of dollars,” I said. I was trying to be helpful. Like I said, I had a weakness for frowning women.
“Could we go in the back and test it?” she asked.
“Ain’t got no back,” Uncle Bingo said. “Don’t need a back when it is just me.”
“Can we at least lock the front door?” Ms. Merit said.
“What? And turn away customers?” Uncle Bingo said.
Ms. Merrit looked at the door and back at the paddle. She was seriously debating it. The frown lines on her face deepened.
“Ms. Merrit, Sunday mornings are not a busy time. If you agree to help test, I promise to make it as fast as possible.” I didn’t mention that going fast might be good for her dignity but it wouldn’t be good for her ass.
“I guess that will have to do,” she said.
I tried not to smile. I was happy to smack her ass but I was more excited to swing a possibly real Randy Jack paddle.
“Do I just turn around?” Ms. Merrit said. She was this close to rolling her eyes.
“A proper test will mean a proper position. Turn around bend over the counter here. Also, you are going to need to take off your jeans and underwear.”
“Excuse me?” she said.
“A paddle, especially a Randy Jack paddle was not made for clothed bottoms. I will need to examine the marks it makes on flesh and the way the paddle absorbs the impact. Even something as thin as panties can mess it up.”
“Son of a bitch,” Ms. Merit said. “This thing better be real.”
She turned around and kicked off her sneakers. She unbuttoned her jeans out of my line of sight. It is always strange what women find important for modesty’s sake. That was fine with me. I had no problem watching her ass as she slipped her jeans down over her dark blue panties. She stepped out of her jeans and then yanked her panties down as fast as she could. After stepping out of her panties, she bent over Uncle Bingo’s counter. She was doing her best to not show off or make it exciting in any way. She was exposing her ass under protest.
I love protest ass. The paddle felt good in my hand as I stepped next to her. I put my hand on the small of her back. She jumped under my touch and I smiled.
Staying in position, she turned her head to look at me. “Is touching me really necess-OW!”
I had a paddle in my hand; I had to use it. It cut through the air like a knife. It smacked into her bottom with a solid WHACK that sent shivers up my legs.
Ms. Merrit was shivering too. She started to stand up straight but my hand pushed her back down.
“I’m authenticating,” I said firmly.
I smacked her ass again. She had a nice plump bottom and the paddle sent shockwaves through her curves. I struck her a little bit lighter than the first smack but I know to her inexperienced ass, she couldn’t tell the difference. All she felt was a stranger smacking her bare bottom in a public store.
The paddle was great. I smacked the sides of her ass, the center of her ass, and the top of her thighs. I sent a few swings downwards on her ass and a few more swings upwards from the bottom of her ass. She wiggled and flinched but I never missed. The paddle struck true with every swing.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!” she cried.
I kept paddling. I spanked her ten times as fast as I could.
“Fuck, fuck, SHIT, SHIT!” she cried.
I spanked her ten times in the exact same spot until it became unbearable to her.
“GOD DAMN IT FUCK!”
I spanked her with very light taps to see if I could manage the weight of the paddle. After the spanking she had endured, even these light taps stung her poor bottom.
“Ow! Ow! OWW!”
After a good solid five minutes of paddling, I stopped. I bent down to see her ass up close. I swear I could feel the heat radiating up from her bottom. That might have been my imagination but what wasn’t my imagination was the smell. I could smell her desire and almost taste it on my tongue.
She tried to stand back up but my hand kept her down. “Is it a real?” she asked.
“Might be,” I said. “The marks are typical of his work. There is a faint imprint from the outline of the paddle as well as some signature wavy lines from the way he polished the wood. The paddle certainly feels right so far.”
“So we’re done?” Ms. Merit said.
“We ain’t done until my expert is satisfied,” Uncle Bingo said. I wasn’t sure if he did that pun on purpose.
“I need to verify the stress capabilities of the paddle,” I said.
“What does that me-SON OF A BITCH!”
I really let her bottom have it. My arm pulled back as wide as possible and then swung towards her ass. I threw all of my strength behind it and hit her ass with a terrifying WHACK that shook some glass figurines on a shelf. Ms. Merit stood up and danced on her feet. She grabbed her ass and spun around in shock. The frown was completely gone and all I saw was pure hatred. It sent tingles down my cock. She was also so angry with me, that she didn’t realize she was flashing me her little blonde bush.
“What the fuck?!?” she said. Venom dripped with every word.
I held the paddle up. “Not even a crack on it,” I said. “Most paddles can’t handle that kind of stress but a Randy Jack can.”
Ms. Merit smiled. I had damn near blistered her ass but she was smiling. “So it is authentic?”
“Yep,” I said. “As nice as it is, I would give it a retail value of about ten thousand dollars. That is what rich fucks are paying for top of the line paddles right now.”
“Hot damn!” Ms. Merit said.
“He said retail,” Uncle Bingo interrupted. “I got to make some money on it myself.”
Ms. Merit didn’t seem fazed by this news. The smile wasn’’t moving. She had no idea how hard of a negotiator Uncle Bingo was.
“You can pull your pants back up,” I said casually.
The smile vanished and turned into a blush. Her face turned a brighter shade of red than her ass was. She bent over get her panties, wincing as she moved. She yanked them as fast as she could.
Ms. Merrit let out a scream as the fabric of the panties touched her tender ass. I figured that hearing that scream was almost as good as the pulled pork I had coming to me.
“Ken, why don’t you go out back and have Junior get you a plate,” Uncle Bingo said. “ Me and Ms. Merrit are going to talk numbers.”
Thirty minutes later, I decided that the scream was better than the pork.
I walked into the pawn store and Uncle Bingo waved at me from the front counter. There was a blonde woman waiting there and she had a cute little ass. Her face would have been pretty except that she was frowning and it looked like she frowned a lot. Unhappy women were both a weakness and a curse to me.
“Hey Ken,” Uncle Bingo said. “I would like you to meet Ms. Merrit here. Ms. Merrit, this is Ken Hale. He knows everything there is to know about paddles.”
Ms. Merrit’s frown didn’t improve any. I guess being an expert on paddles didn’t impress her any. “Pleased to meet you,” she lied.
“Pleased to meet you,” I said. Oh Lord, this was one unhappy woman. I wanted to run away from her something fierce. I also wanted to ask her out. I decided to stick to business.
“How are you doing, Uncle?” I asked.
“Not bad, Ken,” he said. “The pig has been cooking since four this morning so it should be ready soon. I was wondering if you could take a look at Ms. Merrit’s paddle for me first.”
“Sure, Uncle,” I said. I knew it had to be a rare paddle because when it came to sex toys, Uncle Bingo was pretty damn smart. The man had been selling handcuffs and crops since before I was born. If he needed my opinion, it has to be for something special.
I was right. He took out a beautiful paddle. It had a rich brown color to it that soaked in the light. Just by looking at it I could tell how well made it was. When he handed it to me, I was struck by how perfect the weight was. The leather grip felt good in my hand like it was made for it. This was something special all right.
I looked at the base of the handle and saw what I expected. It was signed RJ. This could be an original Randy Jack paddle.
“where did you get this?” I asked Ms. Merrit.
“It belonged to my father,” she said with a bit of disgust. “I knew he was sleeping around with the older women in the neighborhood but it wasn’t until he passed away that I discovered that he had a sex dungeon in the basement. I was going to throw it all out but my friend told me to take it to Uncle Bingo’s first.”
“Good thing you did,” Uncle Bingo said. “A trash man wouldn’t pay you a cent for those magazines, suspension rig or leather handcuffs. I was going to make her an offer on the paddle but I wanted you to see it first, Ken.”
“Well Uncle Bingo, what are your concerns with this paddle?” I asked.
“Mostly I just want to know if it is real,” Uncle Bingo said. “I know paddles but I have only seen one other Randy Jack paddle.”
“Who the fuck is Randy Jack?” Ms. Merrit said.
“Randy Jack was a spanker who made his own paddles in the 80’s,” I said. “He made paddles that were so good that other people tried to buy them from him. He wasn’t really interested in money and the paddles took a long time to make. He would give some away as gifts but that was it. We’re aren’t even sure how many he made.”
“So they are kind of rare?” Ms. Merrit said. Her frown started to improve ever so slightly. When people hear the term, rare, they associate it with money. Big money.
“A real Randy Jack paddle sold recently for ten thousand dollars,” I said.
“Fuck!” Ms. Merrit said. Her face was beautiful for a split second with happiness.
“That is IF it is real,” Uncle Bingo said.
“True,” I said. “If it is not a real Randy Jack, then it is just a really nice paddle. At that point, I wouldn’t put a retail value of more than fifty dollars.”
Ms. Merrit’s frown was back. “How do tell if it is real?”
I took a deep breath. “We got to test it. I have swung a few Randy Jack paddles in my time. I’ll be able to tell by the feel.”
“Then start swinging,” Ms. Merrit said. Uncle Jack was trying really hard not to laugh.
“It is not that simple,” I said. “Swinging a paddle in the air is pointless. Randy Jack made these paddles so that they would hit asses. You can tell by the sound they make, by the way the feel feels in your hand when it impacts an ass and by the marks it leaves on the ass. The only real way to test it is on an ass.”
“Don’t look at me,” Uncle Bingo said. “My ass don’t get hit by nobody.”
“Can you get one of your employees?” Ms. Merrit said.
“I ain’t got no employees,” Uncle Bingo said. “That is how I got such low overhead.”
“I will need to be the one swinging it in order to accurately judge authenticity,” I said.
Ms. Merrit bit her lip and frowned some more. She was shaking her head.
“A little bit of spanking could make the difference between fifty and thousands of dollars,” I said. I was trying to be helpful. Like I said, I had a weakness for frowning women.
“Could we go in the back and test it?” she asked.
“Ain’t got no back,” Uncle Bingo said. “Don’t need a back when it is just me.”
“Can we at least lock the front door?” Ms. Merit said.
“What? And turn away customers?” Uncle Bingo said.
Ms. Merrit looked at the door and back at the paddle. She was seriously debating it. The frown lines on her face deepened.
“Ms. Merrit, Sunday mornings are not a busy time. If you agree to help test, I promise to make it as fast as possible.” I didn’t mention that going fast might be good for her dignity but it wouldn’t be good for her ass.
“I guess that will have to do,” she said.
I tried not to smile. I was happy to smack her ass but I was more excited to swing a possibly real Randy Jack paddle.
“Do I just turn around?” Ms. Merrit said. She was this close to rolling her eyes.
“A proper test will mean a proper position. Turn around bend over the counter here. Also, you are going to need to take off your jeans and underwear.”
“Excuse me?” she said.
“A paddle, especially a Randy Jack paddle was not made for clothed bottoms. I will need to examine the marks it makes on flesh and the way the paddle absorbs the impact. Even something as thin as panties can mess it up.”
“Son of a bitch,” Ms. Merit said. “This thing better be real.”
She turned around and kicked off her sneakers. She unbuttoned her jeans out of my line of sight. It is always strange what women find important for modesty’s sake. That was fine with me. I had no problem watching her ass as she slipped her jeans down over her dark blue panties. She stepped out of her jeans and then yanked her panties down as fast as she could. After stepping out of her panties, she bent over Uncle Bingo’s counter. She was doing her best to not show off or make it exciting in any way. She was exposing her ass under protest.
I love protest ass. The paddle felt good in my hand as I stepped next to her. I put my hand on the small of her back. She jumped under my touch and I smiled.
Staying in position, she turned her head to look at me. “Is touching me really necess-OW!”
I had a paddle in my hand; I had to use it. It cut through the air like a knife. It smacked into her bottom with a solid WHACK that sent shivers up my legs.
Ms. Merrit was shivering too. She started to stand up straight but my hand pushed her back down.
“I’m authenticating,” I said firmly.
I smacked her ass again. She had a nice plump bottom and the paddle sent shockwaves through her curves. I struck her a little bit lighter than the first smack but I know to her inexperienced ass, she couldn’t tell the difference. All she felt was a stranger smacking her bare bottom in a public store.
The paddle was great. I smacked the sides of her ass, the center of her ass, and the top of her thighs. I sent a few swings downwards on her ass and a few more swings upwards from the bottom of her ass. She wiggled and flinched but I never missed. The paddle struck true with every swing.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!” she cried.
I kept paddling. I spanked her ten times as fast as I could.
“Fuck, fuck, SHIT, SHIT!” she cried.
I spanked her ten times in the exact same spot until it became unbearable to her.
“GOD DAMN IT FUCK!”
I spanked her with very light taps to see if I could manage the weight of the paddle. After the spanking she had endured, even these light taps stung her poor bottom.
“Ow! Ow! OWW!”
After a good solid five minutes of paddling, I stopped. I bent down to see her ass up close. I swear I could feel the heat radiating up from her bottom. That might have been my imagination but what wasn’t my imagination was the smell. I could smell her desire and almost taste it on my tongue.
She tried to stand back up but my hand kept her down. “Is it a real?” she asked.
“Might be,” I said. “The marks are typical of his work. There is a faint imprint from the outline of the paddle as well as some signature wavy lines from the way he polished the wood. The paddle certainly feels right so far.”
“So we’re done?” Ms. Merit said.
“We ain’t done until my expert is satisfied,” Uncle Bingo said. I wasn’t sure if he did that pun on purpose.
“I need to verify the stress capabilities of the paddle,” I said.
“What does that me-SON OF A BITCH!”
I really let her bottom have it. My arm pulled back as wide as possible and then swung towards her ass. I threw all of my strength behind it and hit her ass with a terrifying WHACK that shook some glass figurines on a shelf. Ms. Merit stood up and danced on her feet. She grabbed her ass and spun around in shock. The frown was completely gone and all I saw was pure hatred. It sent tingles down my cock. She was also so angry with me, that she didn’t realize she was flashing me her little blonde bush.
“What the fuck?!?” she said. Venom dripped with every word.
I held the paddle up. “Not even a crack on it,” I said. “Most paddles can’t handle that kind of stress but a Randy Jack can.”
Ms. Merit smiled. I had damn near blistered her ass but she was smiling. “So it is authentic?”
“Yep,” I said. “As nice as it is, I would give it a retail value of about ten thousand dollars. That is what rich fucks are paying for top of the line paddles right now.”
“Hot damn!” Ms. Merit said.
“He said retail,” Uncle Bingo interrupted. “I got to make some money on it myself.”
Ms. Merit didn’t seem fazed by this news. The smile wasn’’t moving. She had no idea how hard of a negotiator Uncle Bingo was.
“You can pull your pants back up,” I said casually.
The smile vanished and turned into a blush. Her face turned a brighter shade of red than her ass was. She bent over get her panties, wincing as she moved. She yanked them as fast as she could.
Ms. Merrit let out a scream as the fabric of the panties touched her tender ass. I figured that hearing that scream was almost as good as the pulled pork I had coming to me.
“Ken, why don’t you go out back and have Junior get you a plate,” Uncle Bingo said. “ Me and Ms. Merrit are going to talk numbers.”
Thirty minutes later, I decided that the scream was better than the pork.
Monday, November 19, 2012
Von Madd Laboratories Holiday Schedule
Greetings employees,
Thursday is Thanksgiving which means that our lesser scientist colleagues who value family over science will be taking the week off. We will miss their camaraderie and presence but not their dedication to science which as I already mentioned, is less than ours.
Despite our commitment to science, we will still celebrate Thanksgiving. We have much to be thankful for as erotic scientists. I shall personally share a few in an effort to muddle my age as your benevolent omniscient boss with some slight slivers of humanity.
I am thankful for all the amazing advances in vibration technology we have made this year. Current customer satisfaction surveys rank ninety percent of our vibrator products at ‘Holy shit! I saw a divine entity!’ level of satisfaction.
I am also thankful for the many successful investments we have made in sexual education. It is always a joy to see young college students coming into our laboratories, learn sexual pleasure and innovation and then leave to take that knowledge into the general population. It is an even greater to joy test these students personally and discover how much they learn.
Lastly, I am thankful for the creation of the Disciplintron M3 which allows me to continue to administer corporal punishment to the senior staff without the threat of spraining my wrist again. Some say the robot strikes too hard but I say you shouldn’t have fucked up in the first place.
Now that I have reaffirmed that I am sort of like you, I would like to discuss our holiday plans for the laboratory.
Science will be conducted on Monday and Tuesday.
Science will also be conducted on Wednesday except that our Culinary Pleasures Department will engage in extensive meal preparations. Dr. Gustav assures me that there will be avians of plump sizes. There will also be many side dishes that will serve as flavor lingerie for the main dishes. Dr. Gustav has promised me personally that there will be addition of Aphrodisiac #6 in the stuffing this year.
Holiday Celebrations will be conducted on Thursday. We shall begin with a mandatory lazy period in the morning. At 10am sharp, we shall commence with the Thanksgiving Orgy in the main Conference Bedroom. At noon we shall break for Thanksgiving Lunch in the Cafeteria. Afterwards, scientists are free to continue having more sex, retire to their quarters for a nap or perhaps do administrative paperwork.
Holiday Laziness will continue on Friday. We all remember what happened last year when Dr. Presper, high on turkey sandwiches, made a miscalculation while mixing lubricants. Security tells me that they still think the Lubricant Blob Monster still lurks in the sub-basement levels.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Dr. Otto Von madd
Thursday is Thanksgiving which means that our lesser scientist colleagues who value family over science will be taking the week off. We will miss their camaraderie and presence but not their dedication to science which as I already mentioned, is less than ours.
Despite our commitment to science, we will still celebrate Thanksgiving. We have much to be thankful for as erotic scientists. I shall personally share a few in an effort to muddle my age as your benevolent omniscient boss with some slight slivers of humanity.
I am thankful for all the amazing advances in vibration technology we have made this year. Current customer satisfaction surveys rank ninety percent of our vibrator products at ‘Holy shit! I saw a divine entity!’ level of satisfaction.
I am also thankful for the many successful investments we have made in sexual education. It is always a joy to see young college students coming into our laboratories, learn sexual pleasure and innovation and then leave to take that knowledge into the general population. It is an even greater to joy test these students personally and discover how much they learn.
Lastly, I am thankful for the creation of the Disciplintron M3 which allows me to continue to administer corporal punishment to the senior staff without the threat of spraining my wrist again. Some say the robot strikes too hard but I say you shouldn’t have fucked up in the first place.
Now that I have reaffirmed that I am sort of like you, I would like to discuss our holiday plans for the laboratory.
Science will be conducted on Monday and Tuesday.
Science will also be conducted on Wednesday except that our Culinary Pleasures Department will engage in extensive meal preparations. Dr. Gustav assures me that there will be avians of plump sizes. There will also be many side dishes that will serve as flavor lingerie for the main dishes. Dr. Gustav has promised me personally that there will be addition of Aphrodisiac #6 in the stuffing this year.
Holiday Celebrations will be conducted on Thursday. We shall begin with a mandatory lazy period in the morning. At 10am sharp, we shall commence with the Thanksgiving Orgy in the main Conference Bedroom. At noon we shall break for Thanksgiving Lunch in the Cafeteria. Afterwards, scientists are free to continue having more sex, retire to their quarters for a nap or perhaps do administrative paperwork.
Holiday Laziness will continue on Friday. We all remember what happened last year when Dr. Presper, high on turkey sandwiches, made a miscalculation while mixing lubricants. Security tells me that they still think the Lubricant Blob Monster still lurks in the sub-basement levels.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Dr. Otto Von madd
Friday, November 16, 2012
Play With This: Sex Coach
Some people don’t want a therapist. They don’t need to explore their inner feelings and they sure as fuck don’t want to talk about fathers. There is a stigma to therapy and some people can’t accept that they need medical help to become a better person.
The Life Coach industry recognizes this. They help people with their lives by reskinning the therapy process with the sports coach model. Every one has seen the movie where the inspirational coach helps the normal guy become a super athlete. People understand this fantasy trip and they are more than willing to enter into a student-mentor relationship than they are a patient-doctor relationship. On paper it might be the same thing but it is all about how you present it.
Life coaches don’t ask questions as much as they make demands. They are part cheerleader and part drill sergeant. They don’t talk about your mother; they talk about how much ass you are on the verge of kicking. They don’t put the focus on your past as much as they focus on how you are making the future better.
As you might guess, life coaches are completely free of getting any sort of therapist or medical license. This might be why a large number of life coaches spend a great deal of time making their money by telling people how they can become life coaches. One might suspect that it is some sort of self replicating scam. I bet it is like most things in that it depends on who is doing it.
Meet Veronica Umaria. She is a second generation Japanese-American. Her appearance gives her that exotic touch that people want in a life coach while her completely American upbringing makes her very approachable. Veronica is a Sex Life Coach and she is very good at her job.
Need to spice up your marriage? Veronica will provide hands on advice and training.
Single and frustrated? Veronica won’t offer any dating advice but she will teach you twenty different ways to masturbate that will spoil you for human contact.
In the middle of a hot night of lovemaking and suddenly things turn cold? Veronica will take your call in the middle of the night and help with your problem. Shit, she might just do a house call.
Need to grudge fuck someone for personal petty reasons? Veronica has a nine step regimen that will get you into grudge fucking shape.
You might look at these list of services and conclude that Veronica is some sort of super sex therapist. Remember, it is all in the delivery.
“Now Carlos, you might think you have a small penis but I want you to think of that penis as a stiletto of sex. That is not a pencil dick, it is a precise instrument of pleasure. You’re going to learn how to use your tool to get into places women never knew they had.”
Or,
“Geena, you can fuck yourself better than that. Pound that pussy! You spent money on a dildo worthy of a pussy and you’re using it like it a virgin. Get in there! Remember your training! Fuck, fuck FUCK! You’re worth it!”
At this point you might be thinking of Veronica as a sort of dominatrix. You’re close. She will give you structure and a sense of order but she isn’t spanking you, she isn’t there to turn you on and she is not going to punish you if you are bad. If you don’t follow her training then you fail yourself and Veronica will be happy to point that out to you.
Play With This is a series of articles designed to give you things to play around with in your writing. Feel free to borrow, modify, or completely change for your own stories.
The Life Coach industry recognizes this. They help people with their lives by reskinning the therapy process with the sports coach model. Every one has seen the movie where the inspirational coach helps the normal guy become a super athlete. People understand this fantasy trip and they are more than willing to enter into a student-mentor relationship than they are a patient-doctor relationship. On paper it might be the same thing but it is all about how you present it.
Life coaches don’t ask questions as much as they make demands. They are part cheerleader and part drill sergeant. They don’t talk about your mother; they talk about how much ass you are on the verge of kicking. They don’t put the focus on your past as much as they focus on how you are making the future better.
As you might guess, life coaches are completely free of getting any sort of therapist or medical license. This might be why a large number of life coaches spend a great deal of time making their money by telling people how they can become life coaches. One might suspect that it is some sort of self replicating scam. I bet it is like most things in that it depends on who is doing it.
Meet Veronica Umaria. She is a second generation Japanese-American. Her appearance gives her that exotic touch that people want in a life coach while her completely American upbringing makes her very approachable. Veronica is a Sex Life Coach and she is very good at her job.
Need to spice up your marriage? Veronica will provide hands on advice and training.
Single and frustrated? Veronica won’t offer any dating advice but she will teach you twenty different ways to masturbate that will spoil you for human contact.
In the middle of a hot night of lovemaking and suddenly things turn cold? Veronica will take your call in the middle of the night and help with your problem. Shit, she might just do a house call.
Need to grudge fuck someone for personal petty reasons? Veronica has a nine step regimen that will get you into grudge fucking shape.
You might look at these list of services and conclude that Veronica is some sort of super sex therapist. Remember, it is all in the delivery.
“Now Carlos, you might think you have a small penis but I want you to think of that penis as a stiletto of sex. That is not a pencil dick, it is a precise instrument of pleasure. You’re going to learn how to use your tool to get into places women never knew they had.”
Or,
“Geena, you can fuck yourself better than that. Pound that pussy! You spent money on a dildo worthy of a pussy and you’re using it like it a virgin. Get in there! Remember your training! Fuck, fuck FUCK! You’re worth it!”
At this point you might be thinking of Veronica as a sort of dominatrix. You’re close. She will give you structure and a sense of order but she isn’t spanking you, she isn’t there to turn you on and she is not going to punish you if you are bad. If you don’t follow her training then you fail yourself and Veronica will be happy to point that out to you.
Play With This is a series of articles designed to give you things to play around with in your writing. Feel free to borrow, modify, or completely change for your own stories.
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
Fiction: Sea Relations
Explorer’s Log: After a boring five week journey, I have finally arrived at the star system designated Queen’s Enviable Fashion Sense by Royal Astronomers. There are seventeen planets in this system but only one is not a lifeless rock. The fourth planet is covered in water and shows no sign of intelligent life. I will descend onto the planet and take a closer look. End Explorer’s Log.
Explorer’s Personal Log: Praise the Queen! After that long trip, a nice swim is just what the medbay ordered! Initial scans show that the water is clean of any biohazards so I will skip the clunky spacesuit this time. I can’t wait to take my first swim in months!
Vaquel Di floated in a sea of bliss. The warm waters of the planet’s equator encompassed her body. Colorful tropical fish passed by her and she lazily waved at them. She should have been making scans for the planetary survey but fuck it. She was enjoying herself.
Today she wore the most minimum of equipment. She had on her glassteel bubble helmet so she could breathe, a utility belt in case she ran into trouble and her propulsion boots in case she didn’t feel like swimming. That was it. Her large brown tits floated in the water. Her round ass was completely exposed spanked gently by the current. Even her pink pubic hair was exposed because what was the point of swimming on an alien planet if you weren’t going to go naked?
Vaquel enjoyed a lazy hour doing nothing. After months of being bored in space, she was more than happy to be bored in an ocean. At least there was more to see in an ocean. The seaweed here grew in long strips that glowed with bioluminescence. Every fish was brightly colored as if showing off for a parade. Vaquel had quite a nice time floating naked and watching the sea life.
“I declare today to be a day off,” Vaquel said out loud. The fish didn’t answer her.
“I don’t have to do a single survey. I don’t have to do any maintenance on my ship. I have been travelling for months and for what? A lot of staring at nothing and the occasional fuck. There has been no shopping, no parties and sure as fuck next to no flirting. I am taking the day off and if the Queen doesn’t like it, she can come here and tell me herself.”
She waited a moment but the Queen of Euphoria did not manifest and smite her. Vaquel took that as a sign that her vacation day had been made official.
“Just a lazy day floating in the water,” Vaquel said to herself.
The seaweed moved back and forth in the current.
Vaquel noticed something below her. In the middle of the seaweed was a circular reef. It had strange protrusions that stretched out at weird angles. She had never seen a reef structure like that before.
Vaquel swam down to take a closer look. She had time to kill and something about the reef looked odd. Technically, she wasn’t investigating something on a new planet because she was an explorer. Vaquel decided that she was checking it out as part of her holiday. She was just curious.
As she got closer, she realized that the seaweed wasn’t just around the reef, it looked like it had been planted in rows expanding out from the reef. At first she thought the seaweed might be a part of the reef but it was too symmetrical. This was more that just random sproutings.
“Is this agriculture?” she asked herself. She had a bioscanner on her utility belt but she left it alone. Doing a scan would have been vacation behavior.
A shape swam towards her from the east. It was the largest creature that Vaquel had seen today. It was man sized and better yet, man shaped. It had a head, two arms and three legs though the legs might have been swimming tails. It was a bright green with blue and yellow stripes. The being had large purple eyes that blinked slowly at her. As it got closer, Vaquel was disturbed to see the creature smile at her. All of its many teeth were very sharp looking.
Vaquel’s hand drifted down to her gyropistol but the creature didn’t seem bothered. It swam up to her and squealed at her. The high pitch of its communication was barely in the range of Vaquel’s hearing.
“Greetings fish-thing,” she said. She was starting to wish that she had worn a spacesuit after all.
The Fish-Man squealed at her again. This time Vaquel felt the slight touch of deep sonics on her body. Her breasts tingled as it took the brunt of the sonics.
“That didn’t feel half bad,” she said.
The Fish-Man’s smile grew wider and Vaquel became more nervous. He had an awful lot of teeth. The Fish-Man reached out with one of his hands towards her breast. He hummed something and she felt the sonics tickled across her floating tits.
Vaquel laughed and relaxed. She let the Fish-Man touch her breasts. If there is one thing she had learned while travelling across star systems; it is that aliens love tits. She could write a paper on the universal appeal of mammary glands.
The Fish-Man’s hands had six fingers, all spaced equidistant around his hand. He cupped her breast and Vaquel sighed as dozens of little suckers attached themselves to her breast. He jiggled her breast and emitted a lower pitch squeal that did funny things to Vaquel’s thighs.
“May I?” she said as she reached for the Fish-Man’s chest? The creature smiled wider so she touched his chest. She was surprised at what she felt. Instead of cold scales, it was warm flesh. She also felt incredible muscle mass. This creature had been swimming its entire life and had the physique to show for it.
The seaweed swayed gently with the current as they groped each other. Neither of them were in a hurry and Vaquel enjoyed the moment. It was a shame she couldn’t communicate with him but then again, maybe it was for the best. It was her day off after all. Talking could be so tiresome. Today she just wanted to feel.
The Fish-Man squealed something and Vaquel felt a sonic tingle between her thighs. The tingle started at the lips of her sex and then went deeper. She moaned as the deep vibrations echoed through her cunt.
He gestured down towards her pink pubic hair. He looked to her for permission. Vaquel answered him by guiding his hand to her sex. His fingers slipped inside her sex with nimble ease. The tiny suckers on his fingers latched on and pulled at her sensitive flesh.
“Comets and sunbursts!” Vaquel cried. It was a startling and wonderful sensation. As his fingers explored her, the little suckers nibbled and teased her from within.
The Fish-man smiled wider. Vaquel tried to return the smile though she had a third less teeth than him.
She glanced down and noticed a new appendence emerging from below the Fish-Man’s waist. It was long, slender and had a familiar looking bulb at the end. This time her smile was more genuine because she recognized the appendage. The fish-man had a cock!
Vaquel reached for his cock and squeezed. It was just as muscular as the rest of him. The Fish-Man hummed when she touched his cock. Sonic vibrations rippled across her body.
“You like that, don’t you?” Vaquel said.
The Fish-Man hummed happily in response.
“You might like this more,” Vaquel said.
She pulled his cock towards her cunt. He removed his fingers and gripped her ass instead. They pulled each other closer together as he slid into her.
He was a little too big but Vaquel was a little too much of a slut to complain. His cock pulsed inside her and Vaquel clenched around him. The Fish-Man squealed something loud and indecipherable but Vaquel felt the squeal done to the deepest parts of her body.
Vaquel wrapped her long brown legs around his green waist. He held her ass with both hands. The multiple suckers on his fingers latched on to her plump butt with the tightness of an airlock. Vaquel’s breasts were tightly pressed against the Fish-Man’s muscular chest.
The Fish-Man fucked her. His three tails did a complicated dance of movement that let him slide in and out of her while they slowly turned in place. Vaquel laughed with delight. It was a lazy slow rhythm that matched her lazy slow mood. He pumped her cunt as if he had all the time in the world.
Schools of colorful fish drifted by. The Fish-man’s cock slid in and out of her.
The field of seaweed flowed in the current. The Fish-Man’s fingers gripped her ass even tighter.
The sun’s beams speared the tropical waters with a storm of refracting light. The Fish-man’s humming sonics were reaching parts of Vaquel that she didn’t know she had.
Vaquel was close. The fucking was going deliciously slow but her orgasm was inevitable. She unclenched her legs from around the Fish-Man’s waist and gently pulled herself off his wonderful cock. Turning around, she presented her ass to the creature. She wiggled her hips and opened her thighs.
The Fish-Man understood. He reached around and grappled her floating tits. His cock slid back into her cunt. Vaquel leaned forward and the angle allowed his already impressive cock to reach further inside her.
The fucking resumed but it was faster now. The slow lazy pace was gone. The Fish-Man’s tails churned the water as he fucked her. They were still floating in place but the waters around her was a whirlpool of current.
Vaquel laughed and clenched down with her cunt. She stretched her hands out to feel the water as it spun around her. She moaned as the Fish-Man squeezed her breasts tighter. She surrendered her body to sensations around her and within.
“Glory to the Queen!” she cried out. Her orgasm was a wave crashing within her body. She felt the boredom of a long space voyage be washed away and a new lust for life sweeping in. She was embraced by the warmth of the ocean and her strange new lover. Vaquel reborn in a new ocean of optimisim.
A shrieking squeal assaulted her ears. The glassteel bubble helmet vibrated and she feared that it would crack. The thrusting stopped suddenly and the Fish-Man released her. Vaquel floated for a moment before her post-orgasmic limbs would obey her commands. She turned and looked to see what was happening.
A red shape was swimming rapidly towards Vaquel and the Fish-Man. It was being propelled by the same weird three tails that the Fish-man had. The creature had breasts although not as big as Vaquel’s. Her face was hard to see at this distance but even from this far away, Vaquel could see the many, many, many teeth that were being bared at her.
The shrieking squeal hit Vaquel again. It vibrated her from head to toe. It did not feel friendly at all.
The Fish-Man squealed a long and sad call. Vaquel smiled.
“I guess this means you are married,” Vaquel said.
The Fish-Man swam towards the Fish-Woman. The female easily dodged her unfaithful lover and headed towards Vaquel.
Vaquel sighed and activated her propulsion boots. Powerful motors activated and sent Vaquel flying through the water back to her ship. The stress of going full speed in the water was doing awful things to her breasts but Vaquel endured. She had a feeling that the Fish-Women’s teeth would be far worse.
The Deep Probe Ship floated in the water. Vaquel slowed down and activated the airlock. She pulled herself out of the water and into the ship. It felt strange to be out of the water after spending so much time there. She should have resented the Fish-woman for chasing her out of the water but Vaquel couldn’t bring herself to hate her. The Fish-Woman was protecting the cock that belonged to her and after experiencing that cock for herself, Vaquel agreed that it was a cock worth protecting.
“No, you can have that one,” Vaquel said out loud. She would just move the ship elsewhere and swim far away from the jealous Fish-Woman.
Besides, there might be plenty more Fish-Men in the sea.
Explorer’s Personal Log: Praise the Queen! After that long trip, a nice swim is just what the medbay ordered! Initial scans show that the water is clean of any biohazards so I will skip the clunky spacesuit this time. I can’t wait to take my first swim in months!
Vaquel Di floated in a sea of bliss. The warm waters of the planet’s equator encompassed her body. Colorful tropical fish passed by her and she lazily waved at them. She should have been making scans for the planetary survey but fuck it. She was enjoying herself.
Today she wore the most minimum of equipment. She had on her glassteel bubble helmet so she could breathe, a utility belt in case she ran into trouble and her propulsion boots in case she didn’t feel like swimming. That was it. Her large brown tits floated in the water. Her round ass was completely exposed spanked gently by the current. Even her pink pubic hair was exposed because what was the point of swimming on an alien planet if you weren’t going to go naked?
Vaquel enjoyed a lazy hour doing nothing. After months of being bored in space, she was more than happy to be bored in an ocean. At least there was more to see in an ocean. The seaweed here grew in long strips that glowed with bioluminescence. Every fish was brightly colored as if showing off for a parade. Vaquel had quite a nice time floating naked and watching the sea life.
“I declare today to be a day off,” Vaquel said out loud. The fish didn’t answer her.
“I don’t have to do a single survey. I don’t have to do any maintenance on my ship. I have been travelling for months and for what? A lot of staring at nothing and the occasional fuck. There has been no shopping, no parties and sure as fuck next to no flirting. I am taking the day off and if the Queen doesn’t like it, she can come here and tell me herself.”
She waited a moment but the Queen of Euphoria did not manifest and smite her. Vaquel took that as a sign that her vacation day had been made official.
“Just a lazy day floating in the water,” Vaquel said to herself.
The seaweed moved back and forth in the current.
Vaquel noticed something below her. In the middle of the seaweed was a circular reef. It had strange protrusions that stretched out at weird angles. She had never seen a reef structure like that before.
Vaquel swam down to take a closer look. She had time to kill and something about the reef looked odd. Technically, she wasn’t investigating something on a new planet because she was an explorer. Vaquel decided that she was checking it out as part of her holiday. She was just curious.
As she got closer, she realized that the seaweed wasn’t just around the reef, it looked like it had been planted in rows expanding out from the reef. At first she thought the seaweed might be a part of the reef but it was too symmetrical. This was more that just random sproutings.
“Is this agriculture?” she asked herself. She had a bioscanner on her utility belt but she left it alone. Doing a scan would have been vacation behavior.
A shape swam towards her from the east. It was the largest creature that Vaquel had seen today. It was man sized and better yet, man shaped. It had a head, two arms and three legs though the legs might have been swimming tails. It was a bright green with blue and yellow stripes. The being had large purple eyes that blinked slowly at her. As it got closer, Vaquel was disturbed to see the creature smile at her. All of its many teeth were very sharp looking.
Vaquel’s hand drifted down to her gyropistol but the creature didn’t seem bothered. It swam up to her and squealed at her. The high pitch of its communication was barely in the range of Vaquel’s hearing.
“Greetings fish-thing,” she said. She was starting to wish that she had worn a spacesuit after all.
The Fish-Man squealed at her again. This time Vaquel felt the slight touch of deep sonics on her body. Her breasts tingled as it took the brunt of the sonics.
“That didn’t feel half bad,” she said.
The Fish-Man’s smile grew wider and Vaquel became more nervous. He had an awful lot of teeth. The Fish-Man reached out with one of his hands towards her breast. He hummed something and she felt the sonics tickled across her floating tits.
Vaquel laughed and relaxed. She let the Fish-Man touch her breasts. If there is one thing she had learned while travelling across star systems; it is that aliens love tits. She could write a paper on the universal appeal of mammary glands.
The Fish-Man’s hands had six fingers, all spaced equidistant around his hand. He cupped her breast and Vaquel sighed as dozens of little suckers attached themselves to her breast. He jiggled her breast and emitted a lower pitch squeal that did funny things to Vaquel’s thighs.
“May I?” she said as she reached for the Fish-Man’s chest? The creature smiled wider so she touched his chest. She was surprised at what she felt. Instead of cold scales, it was warm flesh. She also felt incredible muscle mass. This creature had been swimming its entire life and had the physique to show for it.
The seaweed swayed gently with the current as they groped each other. Neither of them were in a hurry and Vaquel enjoyed the moment. It was a shame she couldn’t communicate with him but then again, maybe it was for the best. It was her day off after all. Talking could be so tiresome. Today she just wanted to feel.
The Fish-Man squealed something and Vaquel felt a sonic tingle between her thighs. The tingle started at the lips of her sex and then went deeper. She moaned as the deep vibrations echoed through her cunt.
He gestured down towards her pink pubic hair. He looked to her for permission. Vaquel answered him by guiding his hand to her sex. His fingers slipped inside her sex with nimble ease. The tiny suckers on his fingers latched on and pulled at her sensitive flesh.
“Comets and sunbursts!” Vaquel cried. It was a startling and wonderful sensation. As his fingers explored her, the little suckers nibbled and teased her from within.
The Fish-man smiled wider. Vaquel tried to return the smile though she had a third less teeth than him.
She glanced down and noticed a new appendence emerging from below the Fish-Man’s waist. It was long, slender and had a familiar looking bulb at the end. This time her smile was more genuine because she recognized the appendage. The fish-man had a cock!
Vaquel reached for his cock and squeezed. It was just as muscular as the rest of him. The Fish-Man hummed when she touched his cock. Sonic vibrations rippled across her body.
“You like that, don’t you?” Vaquel said.
The Fish-Man hummed happily in response.
“You might like this more,” Vaquel said.
She pulled his cock towards her cunt. He removed his fingers and gripped her ass instead. They pulled each other closer together as he slid into her.
He was a little too big but Vaquel was a little too much of a slut to complain. His cock pulsed inside her and Vaquel clenched around him. The Fish-Man squealed something loud and indecipherable but Vaquel felt the squeal done to the deepest parts of her body.
Vaquel wrapped her long brown legs around his green waist. He held her ass with both hands. The multiple suckers on his fingers latched on to her plump butt with the tightness of an airlock. Vaquel’s breasts were tightly pressed against the Fish-Man’s muscular chest.
The Fish-Man fucked her. His three tails did a complicated dance of movement that let him slide in and out of her while they slowly turned in place. Vaquel laughed with delight. It was a lazy slow rhythm that matched her lazy slow mood. He pumped her cunt as if he had all the time in the world.
Schools of colorful fish drifted by. The Fish-man’s cock slid in and out of her.
The field of seaweed flowed in the current. The Fish-Man’s fingers gripped her ass even tighter.
The sun’s beams speared the tropical waters with a storm of refracting light. The Fish-man’s humming sonics were reaching parts of Vaquel that she didn’t know she had.
Vaquel was close. The fucking was going deliciously slow but her orgasm was inevitable. She unclenched her legs from around the Fish-Man’s waist and gently pulled herself off his wonderful cock. Turning around, she presented her ass to the creature. She wiggled her hips and opened her thighs.
The Fish-Man understood. He reached around and grappled her floating tits. His cock slid back into her cunt. Vaquel leaned forward and the angle allowed his already impressive cock to reach further inside her.
The fucking resumed but it was faster now. The slow lazy pace was gone. The Fish-Man’s tails churned the water as he fucked her. They were still floating in place but the waters around her was a whirlpool of current.
Vaquel laughed and clenched down with her cunt. She stretched her hands out to feel the water as it spun around her. She moaned as the Fish-Man squeezed her breasts tighter. She surrendered her body to sensations around her and within.
“Glory to the Queen!” she cried out. Her orgasm was a wave crashing within her body. She felt the boredom of a long space voyage be washed away and a new lust for life sweeping in. She was embraced by the warmth of the ocean and her strange new lover. Vaquel reborn in a new ocean of optimisim.
A shrieking squeal assaulted her ears. The glassteel bubble helmet vibrated and she feared that it would crack. The thrusting stopped suddenly and the Fish-Man released her. Vaquel floated for a moment before her post-orgasmic limbs would obey her commands. She turned and looked to see what was happening.
A red shape was swimming rapidly towards Vaquel and the Fish-Man. It was being propelled by the same weird three tails that the Fish-man had. The creature had breasts although not as big as Vaquel’s. Her face was hard to see at this distance but even from this far away, Vaquel could see the many, many, many teeth that were being bared at her.
The shrieking squeal hit Vaquel again. It vibrated her from head to toe. It did not feel friendly at all.
The Fish-Man squealed a long and sad call. Vaquel smiled.
“I guess this means you are married,” Vaquel said.
The Fish-Man swam towards the Fish-Woman. The female easily dodged her unfaithful lover and headed towards Vaquel.
Vaquel sighed and activated her propulsion boots. Powerful motors activated and sent Vaquel flying through the water back to her ship. The stress of going full speed in the water was doing awful things to her breasts but Vaquel endured. She had a feeling that the Fish-Women’s teeth would be far worse.
The Deep Probe Ship floated in the water. Vaquel slowed down and activated the airlock. She pulled herself out of the water and into the ship. It felt strange to be out of the water after spending so much time there. She should have resented the Fish-woman for chasing her out of the water but Vaquel couldn’t bring herself to hate her. The Fish-Woman was protecting the cock that belonged to her and after experiencing that cock for herself, Vaquel agreed that it was a cock worth protecting.
“No, you can have that one,” Vaquel said out loud. She would just move the ship elsewhere and swim far away from the jealous Fish-Woman.
Besides, there might be plenty more Fish-Men in the sea.
Monday, November 12, 2012
Appendix X
I have been doing some research lately in several different genres. When I explore a new genre that I am unfamiliar with, it usually doesn’t take long before I find a list of recommended source materials. Usually these are book or movies that are either held up as a superb example of the genre, or as something that might not be known to the masses but are influential on the people who create this genre work.
You don’t see a lot of that when it comes to erotica. This has been bugging me lately. I think of first time erotica writers and it would be nice if I had a list of books they could read so that they could get a better grasp on the genre. If zombie fiction, apocalypse fiction and spy fiction has a list, why can’t erotica?
I think before we create such a list, we have to create some standards. Most lists of classic erotica books include the most famous erotica books like Fanny Hill or Lady Chatterley’s Lover. The problem with this approach is often the most famous erotica books are famous not because they were good, but because they were banned. They went to court. They had big public battles. They didn’t necessarily have to be good.
I say this not to diminish such classics like Fanny Hill but merely to point out that sexuality is a fluid changing thing. Fanny Hill can mention in passing that sex happened and it was scandalous for its time period. I clearly remember missing a sex scene because the abundant euphemisms completely bypassed my reading comprehension. Maybe the problem was that I was too stupid to enjoy Fanny Hill but I suspect the real problem is that the style was just too old for me.
So if we toss out the classics that are famous for being famous, what real standard can we apply? Quality seems like an easy choice but erotica is a fickle bitch. Readers always disagree on which books are better than others but because erotica depends on sexuality, it is even more influenced by personal tastes. What is exciting and interesting to one reader might seem ludicrous or down right offensive to others. That doesn’t take into account that BDSM is a different beast from slut stories which are utterly different from romance porn.
At this point you have to fall back on just picking erotica that is well written. Good luck with deciding that subjectively.
An even uglier thing to consider is just how freaking huge erotica is. Thousands of books have been published and many of those were printed on a smaller run than most mainstream books. “My Wife the Golf Slut” might be the greatest erotica book of 1982 but if it was only released to dirty bookstores in the Midwest; odds are most readers will never encounter it.
That is only considering printed works. The internet has been steadily pumping out erotica since I believe the 2nd day that the internet was in operation. I would not be exaggerating to say that there likely millions of erotica stories out there at this moment.
What the fuck to do? You want to list erotica that is either really good and lets a writer see the genre at the best of its form, and you want to include erotica that serves as almost a blueprint for aspiring writers to understand. You need a list that is not only a “best-of” but is instead a “this is how it is done”. You need books that inspire writers to write their own tale.
Such an undertaking sounds like a pain in the ass to me. Therefore I plan to make it my goal for 2013.
I think I will need to create another blog that is solely dedicated to this concept. I will call it Appendix X. I think I need a target number, like say ten prime stories that capture what you can do with erotica. Oh man, the hubris of typing that last sentence is overwhelming. Who am I to judge the best stories that exemplify erotica?
Oh wait, I’m a reader and a writer. Also, if people disagree, then they are free to disagree. Dialogue makes anything better. A blog will help make it a true group effort.
This is going to be a really big pain in the ass
You don’t see a lot of that when it comes to erotica. This has been bugging me lately. I think of first time erotica writers and it would be nice if I had a list of books they could read so that they could get a better grasp on the genre. If zombie fiction, apocalypse fiction and spy fiction has a list, why can’t erotica?
I think before we create such a list, we have to create some standards. Most lists of classic erotica books include the most famous erotica books like Fanny Hill or Lady Chatterley’s Lover. The problem with this approach is often the most famous erotica books are famous not because they were good, but because they were banned. They went to court. They had big public battles. They didn’t necessarily have to be good.
I say this not to diminish such classics like Fanny Hill but merely to point out that sexuality is a fluid changing thing. Fanny Hill can mention in passing that sex happened and it was scandalous for its time period. I clearly remember missing a sex scene because the abundant euphemisms completely bypassed my reading comprehension. Maybe the problem was that I was too stupid to enjoy Fanny Hill but I suspect the real problem is that the style was just too old for me.
So if we toss out the classics that are famous for being famous, what real standard can we apply? Quality seems like an easy choice but erotica is a fickle bitch. Readers always disagree on which books are better than others but because erotica depends on sexuality, it is even more influenced by personal tastes. What is exciting and interesting to one reader might seem ludicrous or down right offensive to others. That doesn’t take into account that BDSM is a different beast from slut stories which are utterly different from romance porn.
At this point you have to fall back on just picking erotica that is well written. Good luck with deciding that subjectively.
An even uglier thing to consider is just how freaking huge erotica is. Thousands of books have been published and many of those were printed on a smaller run than most mainstream books. “My Wife the Golf Slut” might be the greatest erotica book of 1982 but if it was only released to dirty bookstores in the Midwest; odds are most readers will never encounter it.
That is only considering printed works. The internet has been steadily pumping out erotica since I believe the 2nd day that the internet was in operation. I would not be exaggerating to say that there likely millions of erotica stories out there at this moment.
What the fuck to do? You want to list erotica that is either really good and lets a writer see the genre at the best of its form, and you want to include erotica that serves as almost a blueprint for aspiring writers to understand. You need a list that is not only a “best-of” but is instead a “this is how it is done”. You need books that inspire writers to write their own tale.
Such an undertaking sounds like a pain in the ass to me. Therefore I plan to make it my goal for 2013.
I think I will need to create another blog that is solely dedicated to this concept. I will call it Appendix X. I think I need a target number, like say ten prime stories that capture what you can do with erotica. Oh man, the hubris of typing that last sentence is overwhelming. Who am I to judge the best stories that exemplify erotica?
Oh wait, I’m a reader and a writer. Also, if people disagree, then they are free to disagree. Dialogue makes anything better. A blog will help make it a true group effort.
This is going to be a really big pain in the ass
Friday, November 09, 2012
Play With This: The Six Secret Spanks
In a forbidden temple that sits on a forbidden mountain resides a master of a forbidden art. The Mast of Spanking spends every day practicing his spanking. He uses the back of his hand, the front of the hand, paddles, crops, books, random pieces of wood and once he even used a limp noodle to devastating effect on a woman’s ass. He knows every detail to the art of spanking.
The most incredible technique that the Master of Spanking knows is the Six Secret Spanks. These spanks will transform a person’s ass to a state of perfect happiness. It will also hurt a lot.
For some reason, this ancient secret technique is now available to the masses. It is being printed on cheap paper and left at Asian supermarkets. Monks with really large hands are distributing the pamphlet at airports. Kinky people have reported seeing the technique explained on subway walls and tenement halls.
Perhaps the Master of Spanking wishes to enlighten the world. Who knows? He could just be a really nice guy.
The First Secret Spank awakens the person’s body to heightened super sensitivity. They will become aware of the slightest change in air pressure on their skin. They will hear birds fart at a hundred yards. They will feel the desire in people’s glances.
The Second Secret Spank will bring great heat to entire body. They will feel as if they were cuddled inside a giant fur blanket that is actually made of a hundred tiny spanks.
The Third Secret Spank will hurt.
The Fourth Secret Spank will hurt so much that the person being spanked will evoke an uncontrollable flood of curse words, swears and impossible anatomical positions.
The Fifth Secret Spank will humiliate. It will break down the ego of the one being spanked. It will strip them down to their core beliefs and in the moment, they will either decide that they are deserving of punishment or worthy of reward. It will also hurt.
The Sixth Secret Spank will take the spanked person to a state of perfect pain and pleasure. They will experience the most painful sensation of their life along with the most pleasurable. They may orgasm. They will cry.
Applying the Six Secret Spanks incorrectly will have unforeseen side effects. Please read the pamphlet correctly.
Play With This is a series of articles designed to give you things to play around with in your writing. Feel free to borrow, modify, or completely change for your own stories.
The most incredible technique that the Master of Spanking knows is the Six Secret Spanks. These spanks will transform a person’s ass to a state of perfect happiness. It will also hurt a lot.
For some reason, this ancient secret technique is now available to the masses. It is being printed on cheap paper and left at Asian supermarkets. Monks with really large hands are distributing the pamphlet at airports. Kinky people have reported seeing the technique explained on subway walls and tenement halls.
Perhaps the Master of Spanking wishes to enlighten the world. Who knows? He could just be a really nice guy.
The First Secret Spank awakens the person’s body to heightened super sensitivity. They will become aware of the slightest change in air pressure on their skin. They will hear birds fart at a hundred yards. They will feel the desire in people’s glances.
The Second Secret Spank will bring great heat to entire body. They will feel as if they were cuddled inside a giant fur blanket that is actually made of a hundred tiny spanks.
The Third Secret Spank will hurt.
The Fourth Secret Spank will hurt so much that the person being spanked will evoke an uncontrollable flood of curse words, swears and impossible anatomical positions.
The Fifth Secret Spank will humiliate. It will break down the ego of the one being spanked. It will strip them down to their core beliefs and in the moment, they will either decide that they are deserving of punishment or worthy of reward. It will also hurt.
The Sixth Secret Spank will take the spanked person to a state of perfect pain and pleasure. They will experience the most painful sensation of their life along with the most pleasurable. They may orgasm. They will cry.
Applying the Six Secret Spanks incorrectly will have unforeseen side effects. Please read the pamphlet correctly.
Play With This is a series of articles designed to give you things to play around with in your writing. Feel free to borrow, modify, or completely change for your own stories.
Wednesday, November 07, 2012
Fiction: Green Room
Bill Angle was annoyed. He was scheduled to appear on a cable network segment where he had to convincingly argue that a coal company’s recent release of toxins into the air was somehow free speech and pro-small business. It wasn’t the shameless defense of a horrible position that bothered him. He had made a career of defending rightwing talking points and blaming everyone from Kenyans to teachers for the cause of anything that happened to be going wrong today. No, he was annoyed because he was waiting in this boring ass green room with two year old magazines and a TV set stuck broadcasting the cable news network. He was bored out of his mind.
Someone walked in. It was a gorgeous redhead in a crisp blue business blazer and skirt. Her pale cleavage was just shy of improper for cable news and her long red hair was a flaming halo around her head. Crimson lipstick decorated lips that smiled with honest cruelty.
“Holly Valentine,” Bill said with a contemptuous sneer.
“Bill Dickfucker,” Holly said with her usual charm.
“What is the internet’s most famous liberal hack reporter doing here?” Bill said.
“The same reason that a professional conservative fluffer is here,” Holly said. “I am here to report what I found about Black Sky’s recent poisoning of a county’s water supply.”
“Obviously you meant to say that you are here to repeat communist talking points fabricated by French environmentalist terrorists,” Bill said.
Holly never lost her smile though something in her bright green eyes turned darker. “I never repeat talking points, I look for facts. That’s what reporters do.”
Bill stood up. He towered over Holly. If anyone asked, he would tell them he stood up to assert dominance. If he was to tell the truth, he would say he stood up to look down ay Holly’s impressive cleavage.
“You’re calling yourself a reporter?” Bill said. “You are a known sympathizer to several organizations like Occupy Wall Street and Sexual Freedom Fighters!”
“Hell yeah I am sympathetic,” Holly said. She stood closer to Bill. Even though she was looking up at him, her eyes were fearless. “But I don’t take money from them to argue their points. Unlike you, who appear on news shows as a so called ‘independent pundit’ while drawing a salary at seven different oil companies, six different coal companies, three gun manufacturers and the god damn Republican candidate for President you asshole hypocrite!”
“Liberal skank feminazi!” Bill yelled.
“Corporate sellout hitman!” Holly yelled.
A knock on the door stopped them. An intern poked his head in. “You guys will be on in twenty minutes.”
“Thanks,” Bill and Holly said together.
The door closed. Bill looked down at Holly. The reporter stared back at him. Their unbridled hatred boiled silently for a few moments.
“Fine, asshole,” Holly said. She reached for his pants and unzipped him. “Just once I would like you to admit you want to fuck first.”
“Appeasing your enemies is a liberal trait, not a core value of a conservative,” Bill said.
Holly pulled his pants down along with his underwear. His hard cock pointed straight at her.
“I just think you can’t talk about sex because all you conservatives are so fucking repressed,” Holly said.
“We’re not repressed,” Bill snapped. “We’re just not sluts like yo-OH GOD YES!”
Bill’s cock disappeared between Holly’s crimson lips. With a single gulp she took him into her mouth. Not even the morning slut on Wolf News could do that. Bill experienced a moment of pure bliss as his cock hit the back of her throat.
Holly looked up at him. She had that smug look in her eyes. He hated that she knew how much he liked it. He hated it so much that his cock couldn’t stop pulsing in her mouth.
“Obama voting bitch,” Bill snarled. He grabbed Holly’s head and slowly fucked her mouth. “Damn contraception wanting slut.”
Holly growled. It made her mouth vibrate in so many wonderful ways. Bill felt the slight pressure of teeth on his cock. She could fuck him over in so many ways. It terrified him that his cock was at the mercy of this liberal media woman. His cock was about to shoot his load at any moment.
He fucked her mouth. Or maybe Holly’s mouth fucked his cock. It was hard to tell. He reached down and grabbed a handful of those perfect pale breasts. Her blazer offered no protection from his groping hands.
“Suck that cock, liberal whore,” Bill groaned. “Suck a real man’s cock. Suck the cock of a hard working American.”
Holly growled some more. Her eyes stared up at him in hatred. She sucked so hard that her cheeks caved in and Bill’s knees began to tremble. She was making him come with her decadent hedonistic liberal tricks.
She pulled back suddenly. His cock popped out of her mouth. It was smeared with her lipstick. “Not yet, fucker. I demand some equal pay in the form of some pussy licking.”
Bill started to say something but he was too busy watching Holly. The woman stood up and lifted her skirt. Of course she had no panties. Her thick red bush of hair taunted him. Holly walked over to the green room couch and sat down. Her pussy waited for him.
“Eat me, Bill.”
Bill dropped to his knees in front of her. He grabbed her thighs pulled her closer to him. His head dipped down and paused right above her sex. The smell of her desire was intoxicating.
“Quit being a tease you fucking chickenhawk!” Holly said.
Bill dived in. Anger and lust drove his licking. He ate her too roughly. He bit at her most sensitive flesh. He licked with a brutality that would make a neocon proud. He took what he wanted from her sex and what he wanted was everything.
Holly twisted underneath him. Her hands went to his perfect hair and kept his head pinned to her sex.
“Eat that cunt you mother fucking gay bashing bigot,” Holly groaned.
Bill felt a surge of anger at being called a bigot. He loved fucking black girls. He licked harder.
“Oh yeah, eat the pussy of a real woman,” Holly said. “You like eating the pussy of someone who uses birth control. I know you do. OH SHIT!”
Bill attacked her clitoris with his tongue. Quick comebacks on cable news had trained his tongue to move faster than a normal man’s. His tongue rapidly flicked against her clitoris better than any vibrator.
“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” Holly said until Bill lifted his head.
She gave him a look of pure hatred. “Fucker, I was about to come.”
Bill rose up and positioned his cock between her thighs. “Typical liberal, always wanting something for nothing.”
He slipped his cock into her. Holly groaned and her eyes rolled. “All right,” she said. “Let’s see what you got, asshole.”
Bill fucked her. The couch shook under the force of his thrusts. Holly spread her legs impossibly wide as he ploughed into her. Bill was disturbed by her flexibility as well as her shamelessness in exposing herself to him. It disturbed him so much that he fucked her even faster.
“Admit it,” he grunted between thrusts. “Your pansy liberal friends can’t fuck you like a real conservative can.”
Holly’s crimson lips curled into a snarl. Her legs suddenly wrapped around him and she rolled off the couch. They tumbled to the floor and Holly was on top of him. Her pussy sank down onto his cock and squeezed with incredible force.
“Fucking hell, you crazy bitch,” Bill groaned.
Holly laughed. “Your cock tells me that you like it.”
Holly rocked back and forth on his cock. Bill was happily trapped underneath her. Holly’s pale breasts shook in front of him as they almost escaped her top. Long red hair kissed his face with every thrust. There was nowhere else that he wanted to be.
Bill tried to thrust up into her but his position was terrible. All he could do was lie there and take it. The feeling of being powerless unsettled him. The feeling of Holly riding his cock more than made up for it.
Without warning, Holly stopped. Her pussy was almost completely off his cock. Only the tip of his cock remained inside her.
“What?” Bill asked.
“Your bosses as Black Sky claim that the pollution of the water table didn’t start until three years ago,” Holly said. “I bet it has been longer than that and you would know.”
“How the fuck would I know?” Bill said. He tried again to thrust inside Holly but damn, it was impossible.
“You do all their media bullshit,” Holly said. “You need to know all the truths before you can remake them into lies.”
“Damn it, I am this close to coming. Can’t we talk about this afterwards?” Bill asked.
“Nope,” Holly said. She smiled at him as her wet pussy began its incredibly slow dismount from the tip of his cock.
“Fuck!” Bill yelled. “They started to pump waste material back in 2000, in February/”
Holly moaned and slid back onto his cock. The muscles in her pussy were contracting from an orgasm. The truth had gotten her off.
Encased once more in Holly’s pussy, Bill climaxed as well. His cock emptied inside of her and he was so relieved that his orgasm wasn’t ruined.
“God, I hate you,” Bill said.
“Not as much as I hate you,” Holly said.
The green room smelled of sex.
Someone walked in. It was a gorgeous redhead in a crisp blue business blazer and skirt. Her pale cleavage was just shy of improper for cable news and her long red hair was a flaming halo around her head. Crimson lipstick decorated lips that smiled with honest cruelty.
“Holly Valentine,” Bill said with a contemptuous sneer.
“Bill Dickfucker,” Holly said with her usual charm.
“What is the internet’s most famous liberal hack reporter doing here?” Bill said.
“The same reason that a professional conservative fluffer is here,” Holly said. “I am here to report what I found about Black Sky’s recent poisoning of a county’s water supply.”
“Obviously you meant to say that you are here to repeat communist talking points fabricated by French environmentalist terrorists,” Bill said.
Holly never lost her smile though something in her bright green eyes turned darker. “I never repeat talking points, I look for facts. That’s what reporters do.”
Bill stood up. He towered over Holly. If anyone asked, he would tell them he stood up to assert dominance. If he was to tell the truth, he would say he stood up to look down ay Holly’s impressive cleavage.
“You’re calling yourself a reporter?” Bill said. “You are a known sympathizer to several organizations like Occupy Wall Street and Sexual Freedom Fighters!”
“Hell yeah I am sympathetic,” Holly said. She stood closer to Bill. Even though she was looking up at him, her eyes were fearless. “But I don’t take money from them to argue their points. Unlike you, who appear on news shows as a so called ‘independent pundit’ while drawing a salary at seven different oil companies, six different coal companies, three gun manufacturers and the god damn Republican candidate for President you asshole hypocrite!”
“Liberal skank feminazi!” Bill yelled.
“Corporate sellout hitman!” Holly yelled.
A knock on the door stopped them. An intern poked his head in. “You guys will be on in twenty minutes.”
“Thanks,” Bill and Holly said together.
The door closed. Bill looked down at Holly. The reporter stared back at him. Their unbridled hatred boiled silently for a few moments.
“Fine, asshole,” Holly said. She reached for his pants and unzipped him. “Just once I would like you to admit you want to fuck first.”
“Appeasing your enemies is a liberal trait, not a core value of a conservative,” Bill said.
Holly pulled his pants down along with his underwear. His hard cock pointed straight at her.
“I just think you can’t talk about sex because all you conservatives are so fucking repressed,” Holly said.
“We’re not repressed,” Bill snapped. “We’re just not sluts like yo-OH GOD YES!”
Bill’s cock disappeared between Holly’s crimson lips. With a single gulp she took him into her mouth. Not even the morning slut on Wolf News could do that. Bill experienced a moment of pure bliss as his cock hit the back of her throat.
Holly looked up at him. She had that smug look in her eyes. He hated that she knew how much he liked it. He hated it so much that his cock couldn’t stop pulsing in her mouth.
“Obama voting bitch,” Bill snarled. He grabbed Holly’s head and slowly fucked her mouth. “Damn contraception wanting slut.”
Holly growled. It made her mouth vibrate in so many wonderful ways. Bill felt the slight pressure of teeth on his cock. She could fuck him over in so many ways. It terrified him that his cock was at the mercy of this liberal media woman. His cock was about to shoot his load at any moment.
He fucked her mouth. Or maybe Holly’s mouth fucked his cock. It was hard to tell. He reached down and grabbed a handful of those perfect pale breasts. Her blazer offered no protection from his groping hands.
“Suck that cock, liberal whore,” Bill groaned. “Suck a real man’s cock. Suck the cock of a hard working American.”
Holly growled some more. Her eyes stared up at him in hatred. She sucked so hard that her cheeks caved in and Bill’s knees began to tremble. She was making him come with her decadent hedonistic liberal tricks.
She pulled back suddenly. His cock popped out of her mouth. It was smeared with her lipstick. “Not yet, fucker. I demand some equal pay in the form of some pussy licking.”
Bill started to say something but he was too busy watching Holly. The woman stood up and lifted her skirt. Of course she had no panties. Her thick red bush of hair taunted him. Holly walked over to the green room couch and sat down. Her pussy waited for him.
“Eat me, Bill.”
Bill dropped to his knees in front of her. He grabbed her thighs pulled her closer to him. His head dipped down and paused right above her sex. The smell of her desire was intoxicating.
“Quit being a tease you fucking chickenhawk!” Holly said.
Bill dived in. Anger and lust drove his licking. He ate her too roughly. He bit at her most sensitive flesh. He licked with a brutality that would make a neocon proud. He took what he wanted from her sex and what he wanted was everything.
Holly twisted underneath him. Her hands went to his perfect hair and kept his head pinned to her sex.
“Eat that cunt you mother fucking gay bashing bigot,” Holly groaned.
Bill felt a surge of anger at being called a bigot. He loved fucking black girls. He licked harder.
“Oh yeah, eat the pussy of a real woman,” Holly said. “You like eating the pussy of someone who uses birth control. I know you do. OH SHIT!”
Bill attacked her clitoris with his tongue. Quick comebacks on cable news had trained his tongue to move faster than a normal man’s. His tongue rapidly flicked against her clitoris better than any vibrator.
“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” Holly said until Bill lifted his head.
She gave him a look of pure hatred. “Fucker, I was about to come.”
Bill rose up and positioned his cock between her thighs. “Typical liberal, always wanting something for nothing.”
He slipped his cock into her. Holly groaned and her eyes rolled. “All right,” she said. “Let’s see what you got, asshole.”
Bill fucked her. The couch shook under the force of his thrusts. Holly spread her legs impossibly wide as he ploughed into her. Bill was disturbed by her flexibility as well as her shamelessness in exposing herself to him. It disturbed him so much that he fucked her even faster.
“Admit it,” he grunted between thrusts. “Your pansy liberal friends can’t fuck you like a real conservative can.”
Holly’s crimson lips curled into a snarl. Her legs suddenly wrapped around him and she rolled off the couch. They tumbled to the floor and Holly was on top of him. Her pussy sank down onto his cock and squeezed with incredible force.
“Fucking hell, you crazy bitch,” Bill groaned.
Holly laughed. “Your cock tells me that you like it.”
Holly rocked back and forth on his cock. Bill was happily trapped underneath her. Holly’s pale breasts shook in front of him as they almost escaped her top. Long red hair kissed his face with every thrust. There was nowhere else that he wanted to be.
Bill tried to thrust up into her but his position was terrible. All he could do was lie there and take it. The feeling of being powerless unsettled him. The feeling of Holly riding his cock more than made up for it.
Without warning, Holly stopped. Her pussy was almost completely off his cock. Only the tip of his cock remained inside her.
“What?” Bill asked.
“Your bosses as Black Sky claim that the pollution of the water table didn’t start until three years ago,” Holly said. “I bet it has been longer than that and you would know.”
“How the fuck would I know?” Bill said. He tried again to thrust inside Holly but damn, it was impossible.
“You do all their media bullshit,” Holly said. “You need to know all the truths before you can remake them into lies.”
“Damn it, I am this close to coming. Can’t we talk about this afterwards?” Bill asked.
“Nope,” Holly said. She smiled at him as her wet pussy began its incredibly slow dismount from the tip of his cock.
“Fuck!” Bill yelled. “They started to pump waste material back in 2000, in February/”
Holly moaned and slid back onto his cock. The muscles in her pussy were contracting from an orgasm. The truth had gotten her off.
Encased once more in Holly’s pussy, Bill climaxed as well. His cock emptied inside of her and he was so relieved that his orgasm wasn’t ruined.
“God, I hate you,” Bill said.
“Not as much as I hate you,” Holly said.
The green room smelled of sex.
Friday, November 02, 2012
Play With This: Sex Butlers
Today's Play With This is provided by the supra-creative Joe Tortuga.
There's probably no bigger downer at an orgy when everyone is all entangled together, and about to do something nasty to one or more other people, and discovering that some important supply is missing or out of reach. The condoms are out, but there are more beside the guest bed nightstand. The lube bottle rolled away and is now in the closet. The special blank and white feels-like-real-skin double dildo is still in the dishwasher since the last orgy.
All of these things, I must be honest, happened to me. But then I discovered Sex Butlers, Inc. I now have them at every function that I can (sometimes there's no time to call ahead, alas). They provide a simple service: someone trained in Sex Butlery will attend your event. That persons' job, as any good butlers' is to pay attention and be ready.
When it is time for a condom, and you are search the floor or bed next to you, the Sex Butler will drop one in your hand. When the lube rolls away to corners unknown, the Sex Butler will be there to gently nudge it back into place. They'll be sure to place any necessary equipment near you, be it dildos, rope, ice, matches, crops or handcuffs. For a fee the Sex Butler themselves will bring a case of esoteric equipment your orgy-goers could make use of, all of it properly cleaned, and sanitary, of course.
Like all good butlers, Sex Butlers are there, but they aren't part of what is going on. They buttle, but don't butt-in. This is the key to their success, and their usefulness at your party. Unlike traditional butlers, who are almost exclusively men, Sex Butlers come in all genders, shapes, sizes and ethnicities. The temperament to be a Sex Butler is rare, and is thus encouraged wherever it is found. Sex Butlers, Inc provides no "sex maids" although they do sell branded outfits for the adventurous role-player.
So, how do you use this in a story? Surely the Sex Butlers have seen everything, and could perhaps tell you some of what they've seen. Also, who trains a Sex Butler, and what is that like? Are they asexual or hyper-sexual beings? What's a Sex Butler party like. I mean, other than incredibly organized?
There's probably no bigger downer at an orgy when everyone is all entangled together, and about to do something nasty to one or more other people, and discovering that some important supply is missing or out of reach. The condoms are out, but there are more beside the guest bed nightstand. The lube bottle rolled away and is now in the closet. The special blank and white feels-like-real-skin double dildo is still in the dishwasher since the last orgy.
All of these things, I must be honest, happened to me. But then I discovered Sex Butlers, Inc. I now have them at every function that I can (sometimes there's no time to call ahead, alas). They provide a simple service: someone trained in Sex Butlery will attend your event. That persons' job, as any good butlers' is to pay attention and be ready.
When it is time for a condom, and you are search the floor or bed next to you, the Sex Butler will drop one in your hand. When the lube rolls away to corners unknown, the Sex Butler will be there to gently nudge it back into place. They'll be sure to place any necessary equipment near you, be it dildos, rope, ice, matches, crops or handcuffs. For a fee the Sex Butler themselves will bring a case of esoteric equipment your orgy-goers could make use of, all of it properly cleaned, and sanitary, of course.
Like all good butlers, Sex Butlers are there, but they aren't part of what is going on. They buttle, but don't butt-in. This is the key to their success, and their usefulness at your party. Unlike traditional butlers, who are almost exclusively men, Sex Butlers come in all genders, shapes, sizes and ethnicities. The temperament to be a Sex Butler is rare, and is thus encouraged wherever it is found. Sex Butlers, Inc provides no "sex maids" although they do sell branded outfits for the adventurous role-player.
So, how do you use this in a story? Surely the Sex Butlers have seen everything, and could perhaps tell you some of what they've seen. Also, who trains a Sex Butler, and what is that like? Are they asexual or hyper-sexual beings? What's a Sex Butler party like. I mean, other than incredibly organized?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)