Writers Duel!! Are you up for it?

[Massive]

Just read all of what everyone has written for this, what a great idea! I'm just getting back into writing again after a 2 year stint of writers block, I'll post something eventually though as this is a great chance to get the grey cells working again.
Thank you for a great read!

[write14u]

Looks like everyone has gotten tied up (like myself), so if that's cool, I'll extend the deadline for this one. Hmmm, I'm open to suggestions, but I figure another two weeks is good. Let's see if we get anything by April 12.

[MiamiButch]

Time Enough.....


Fate is a cruel beast. At first she sidles up to you, purring and wanting affection, bringing someone into your life that lights up your heart brighter than all the lights in Paris, the she turns nasty, claws out, roaring insanely, and snatches away that certain someone, like a greedy predator stealing away someone else's kill. That was my story, that certain someone, my beautiful Kristine. And if fate wanted to play hardball, it had messed with the wrong person. I had a few PHD's in nuclear physics under my belt, not to mention Doctorates in Physical Sciences and a few other things. I was what kids back in the day used to call a "brainiac". Since the begining of time, mankind had been fascinated with the idea of time travel. Since fate had taken Krisitine away from me, I was a bit more than fascinated. I admit, I became downright obsessed. I was determined to not only unlock the secret of time travel, but to give fate a good swift kick in the teeth and bring Kristine back with me. The details were a bit sketchy in the begining, but as I sat there, calculating, checking and rechecking formulas and data, a cohesive plan began to form in my mind. Fate had stepped in it BIG time, back on that Halloween evening, when I lost the one person who made my life seem bearable. Kristine and I were on our way to a celebration for my birthday, when a car hit us. We were on her bike, going to pick up my car at the mechanic's when, while standing there at a red light, another car came flying around the corner and lost control, hitting us. I flew over three cars, she got dragged five hundred feet with the bike on top of her, only to smash against an iron lightpost which snapped her spine like a breadstick, and mercifully, she didn't feel anything when the bike crushed her sternum and basically impaled her through the heart with her own ribs. I cursed the day I had given into her pleading with me to buy her the bike, telling her I would rather buy her a car, which was safer, but those black eyes and that beautiful smile could convince me to walk through the gates of hell themselves if she'd asked me to. Well, Fate was NOT going to get away with this, if I could help it. It had taken me fifteen years, but I had finally gotten all my calculations, all the materials, and all the money I had needed to make the portal work. Now it was time. My plan was to come over to her house BEFORE the time I had arrived, so as not to make any nasty repercussions occur, wake her up, and walk her through the portal, and explain everything to her once she was on the OTHER side with me. Safe with me, always with me. I woke up Halloween morning at five AM, got dressed and prepared to walk through the portal. I had the same color dozen long stemmed roses that I had bought her on that day fifteen years before, and I was dressed exactly alike, luckily, a little makeup did wonders for the aging. I had always had good skin, and now a little concealer was all I needed to reduce the lines of pain and worry that had been carved into my flesh since her passing. I took a deep breath and stepped through the portal. There I was, outside her loft, her bike sitting in the yard in front. But there was another car there, one that I had never seen before. I shrugged it off, maybe it belonged to one of her neighbors, or one of her friends. It didn't matter, I was going to see my Kristine again. As I approached her door, I heard a man's voice. I hesistated, just with my key in the lock. I slowly opened the door a crack... I could hear Kristine's heavy breathing, the kind of breathing that came when she was about to cum, and I opened the door wide. The "bang" as the door hit the wall startled them both. There was my Kristine, on her back, legs open, being fukked by a man, her eyes flew open with shame and horror. He pulled out of her, still erect, trying to cover himself up. It was my neighbor's friend, Andre. I remember the rage at that moment, I remember taking the long switchblade that I always carried with me, since highschool, and the rage, burning all my senses, I remember sinking the blade into Andre, over and over and over again, until there was nothing but a bloody pulpy mess left of his face. I remember Kristine, cowering in a corner, terrified that she would be next. But I came to my senses then, I could never hurt Kristine, no matter what she did. She was my life, my love, my everything. And so I dialed up the portal, and sent the body into oblivion, and then I stepped back into the future, without my Kristine. She died again that day, in the same horrible manner, but somehow, it didn't hurt as badly as it did the first time. Call it vengeance, call it spite, I call it dying... Dying of the heart. It's been sixteen years now, since I lost my Kristine, one year since I sent Andre's body to oblivion and found that my Kristine wasn't mine after all. And still my heart doesn't beat for anyone as it did for her. I'm just as dead as she is, with little hope of coming back, portal or no. Sometimes I contemplate going back to get her at an earlier time. But Fate won't be denied. If she did it then, she'd do it now, and this time it'd be HER going into oblivion......

[GemmeFemme]

Time Enough.....


Fate is a cruel beast. At first she sidles up to you, purring and wanting affection, bringing someone into your life that lights up your heart brighter than all the lights in Paris, the she turns nasty, claws out, roaring insanely, and snatches away that certain someone, like a greedy predator stealing away someone else's kill. That was my story, that certain someone, my beautiful Kristine. And if fate wanted to play hardball, it had messed with the wrong person. I had a few PHD's in nuclear physics under my belt, not to mention Doctorates in Physical Sciences and a few other things. I was what kids back in the day used to call a "brainiac". Since the begining of time, mankind had been fascinated with the idea of time travel. Since fate had taken Krisitine away from me, I was a bit more than fascinated. I admit, I became downright obsessed. I was determined to not only unlock the secret of time travel, but to give fate a good swift kick in the teeth and bring Kristine back with me. The details were a bit sketchy in the begining, but as I sat there, calculating, checking and rechecking formulas and data, a cohesive plan began to form in my mind. Fate had stepped in it BIG time, back on that Halloween evening, when I lost the one person who made my life seem bearable. Kristine and I were on our way to a celebration for my birthday, when a car hit us. We were on her bike, going to pick up my car at the mechanic's when, while standing there at a red light, another car came flying around the corner and lost control, hitting us. I flew over three cars, she got dragged five hundred feet with the bike on top of her, only to smash against an iron lightpost which snapped her spine like a breadstick, and mercifully, she didn't feel anything when the bike crushed her sternum and basically impaled her through the heart with her own ribs. I cursed the day I had given into her pleading with me to buy her the bike, telling her I would rather buy her a car, which was safer, but those black eyes and that beautiful smile could convince me to walk through the gates of hell themselves if she'd asked me to. Well, Fate was NOT going to get away with this, if I could help it. It had taken me fifteen years, but I had finally gotten all my calculations, all the materials, and all the money I had needed to make the portal work. Now it was time. My plan was to come over to her house BEFORE the time I had arrived, so as not to make any nasty repercussions occur, wake her up, and walk her through the portal, and explain everything to her once she was on the OTHER side with me. Safe with me, always with me. I woke up Halloween morning at five AM, got dressed and prepared to walk through the portal. I had the same color dozen long stemmed roses that I had bought her on that day fifteen years before, and I was dressed exactly alike, luckily, a little makeup did wonders for the aging. I had always had good skin, and now a little concealer was all I needed to reduce the lines of pain and worry that had been carved into my flesh since her passing. I took a deep breath and stepped through the portal. There I was, outside her loft, her bike sitting in the yard in front. But there was another car there, one that I had never seen before. I shrugged it off, maybe it belonged to one of her neighbors, or one of her friends. It didn't matter, I was going to see my Kristine again. As I approached her door, I heard a man's voice. I hesistated, just with my key in the lock. I slowly opened the door a crack... I could hear Kristine's heavy breathing, the kind of breathing that came when she was about to cum, and I opened the door wide. The "bang" as the door hit the wall startled them both. There was my Kristine, on her back, legs open, being fukked by a man, her eyes flew open with shame and horror. He pulled out of her, still erect, trying to cover himself up. It was my neighbor's friend, Andre. I remember the rage at that moment, I remember taking the long switchblade that I always carried with me, since highschool, and the rage, burning all my senses, I remember sinking the blade into Andre, over and over and over again, until there was nothing but a bloody pulpy mess left of his face. I remember Kristine, cowering in a corner, terrified that she would be next. But I came to my senses then, I could never hurt Kristine, no matter what she did. She was my life, my love, my everything. And so I dialed up the portal, and sent the body into oblivion, and then I stepped back into the future, without my Kristine. She died again that day, in the same horrible manner, but somehow, it didn't hurt as badly as it did the first time. Call it vengeance, call it spite, I call it dying... Dying of the heart. It's been sixteen years now, since I lost my Kristine, one year since I sent Andre's body to oblivion and found that my Kristine wasn't mine after all. And still my heart doesn't beat for anyone as it did for her. I'm just as dead as she is, with little hope of coming back, portal or no. Sometimes I contemplate going back to get her at an earlier time. But Fate won't be denied. If she did it then, she'd do it now, and this time it'd be HER going into oblivion......

Dark, but very good! Me likey.

[write14u]

Time Enough.....


Fate is a cruel beast. At first she sidles up to you, purring and wanting affection, bringing someone into your life that lights up your heart brighter than all the lights in Paris, the she turns nasty, claws out, roaring insanely, and snatches away that certain someone, like a greedy predator stealing away someone else's kill. That was my story, that certain someone, my beautiful Kristine. And if fate wanted to play hardball, it had messed with the wrong person. I had a few PHD's in nuclear physics under my belt, not to mention Doctorates in Physical Sciences and a few other things. I was what kids back in the day used to call a "brainiac". Since the begining of time, mankind had been fascinated with the idea of time travel. Since fate had taken Krisitine away from me, I was a bit more than fascinated. I admit, I became downright obsessed. I was determined to not only unlock the secret of time travel, but to give fate a good swift kick in the teeth and bring Kristine back with me. The details were a bit sketchy in the begining, but as I sat there, calculating, checking and rechecking formulas and data, a cohesive plan began to form in my mind. Fate had stepped in it BIG time, back on that Halloween evening, when I lost the one person who made my life seem bearable. Kristine and I were on our way to a celebration for my birthday, when a car hit us. We were on her bike, going to pick up my car at the mechanic's when, while standing there at a red light, another car came flying around the corner and lost control, hitting us. I flew over three cars, she got dragged five hundred feet with the bike on top of her, only to smash against an iron lightpost which snapped her spine like a breadstick, and mercifully, she didn't feel anything when the bike crushed her sternum and basically impaled her through the heart with her own ribs. I cursed the day I had given into her pleading with me to buy her the bike, telling her I would rather buy her a car, which was safer, but those black eyes and that beautiful smile could convince me to walk through the gates of hell themselves if she'd asked me to. Well, Fate was NOT going to get away with this, if I could help it. It had taken me fifteen years, but I had finally gotten all my calculations, all the materials, and all the money I had needed to make the portal work. Now it was time. My plan was to come over to her house BEFORE the time I had arrived, so as not to make any nasty repercussions occur, wake her up, and walk her through the portal, and explain everything to her once she was on the OTHER side with me. Safe with me, always with me. I woke up Halloween morning at five AM, got dressed and prepared to walk through the portal. I had the same color dozen long stemmed roses that I had bought her on that day fifteen years before, and I was dressed exactly alike, luckily, a little makeup did wonders for the aging. I had always had good skin, and now a little concealer was all I needed to reduce the lines of pain and worry that had been carved into my flesh since her passing. I took a deep breath and stepped through the portal. There I was, outside her loft, her bike sitting in the yard in front. But there was another car there, one that I had never seen before. I shrugged it off, maybe it belonged to one of her neighbors, or one of her friends. It didn't matter, I was going to see my Kristine again. As I approached her door, I heard a man's voice. I hesistated, just with my key in the lock. I slowly opened the door a crack... I could hear Kristine's heavy breathing, the kind of breathing that came when she was about to cum, and I opened the door wide. The "bang" as the door hit the wall startled them both. There was my Kristine, on her back, legs open, being fukked by a man, her eyes flew open with shame and horror. He pulled out of her, still erect, trying to cover himself up. It was my neighbor's friend, Andre. I remember the rage at that moment, I remember taking the long switchblade that I always carried with me, since highschool, and the rage, burning all my senses, I remember sinking the blade into Andre, over and over and over again, until there was nothing but a bloody pulpy mess left of his face. I remember Kristine, cowering in a corner, terrified that she would be next. But I came to my senses then, I could never hurt Kristine, no matter what she did. She was my life, my love, my everything. And so I dialed up the portal, and sent the body into oblivion, and then I stepped back into the future, without my Kristine. She died again that day, in the same horrible manner, but somehow, it didn't hurt as badly as it did the first time. Call it vengeance, call it spite, I call it dying... Dying of the heart. It's been sixteen years now, since I lost my Kristine, one year since I sent Andre's body to oblivion and found that my Kristine wasn't mine after all. And still my heart doesn't beat for anyone as it did for her. I'm just as dead as she is, with little hope of coming back, portal or no. Sometimes I contemplate going back to get her at an earlier time. But Fate won't be denied. If she did it then, she'd do it now, and this time it'd be HER going into oblivion......

Bloody f*cking awesome! Thanks!

[Massive]

Time Enough.....


Fate is a cruel beast. At first she sidles up to you, purring and wanting affection, bringing someone into your life that lights up your heart brighter than all the lights in Paris, the she turns nasty, claws out, roaring insanely, and snatches away that certain someone, like a greedy predator stealing away someone else's kill. That was my story, that certain someone, my beautiful Kristine. And if fate wanted to play hardball, it had messed with the wrong person. I had a few PHD's in nuclear physics under my belt, not to mention Doctorates in Physical Sciences and a few other things. I was what kids back in the day used to call a "brainiac". Since the begining of time, mankind had been fascinated with the idea of time travel. Since fate had taken Krisitine away from me, I was a bit more than fascinated. I admit, I became downright obsessed. I was determined to not only unlock the secret of time travel, but to give fate a good swift kick in the teeth and bring Kristine back with me. The details were a bit sketchy in the begining, but as I sat there, calculating, checking and rechecking formulas and data, a cohesive plan began to form in my mind. Fate had stepped in it BIG time, back on that Halloween evening, when I lost the one person who made my life seem bearable. Kristine and I were on our way to a celebration for my birthday, when a car hit us. We were on her bike, going to pick up my car at the mechanic's when, while standing there at a red light, another car came flying around the corner and lost control, hitting us. I flew over three cars, she got dragged five hundred feet with the bike on top of her, only to smash against an iron lightpost which snapped her spine like a breadstick, and mercifully, she didn't feel anything when the bike crushed her sternum and basically impaled her through the heart with her own ribs. I cursed the day I had given into her pleading with me to buy her the bike, telling her I would rather buy her a car, which was safer, but those black eyes and that beautiful smile could convince me to walk through the gates of hell themselves if she'd asked me to. Well, Fate was NOT going to get away with this, if I could help it. It had taken me fifteen years, but I had finally gotten all my calculations, all the materials, and all the money I had needed to make the portal work. Now it was time. My plan was to come over to her house BEFORE the time I had arrived, so as not to make any nasty repercussions occur, wake her up, and walk her through the portal, and explain everything to her once she was on the OTHER side with me. Safe with me, always with me. I woke up Halloween morning at five AM, got dressed and prepared to walk through the portal. I had the same color dozen long stemmed roses that I had bought her on that day fifteen years before, and I was dressed exactly alike, luckily, a little makeup did wonders for the aging. I had always had good skin, and now a little concealer was all I needed to reduce the lines of pain and worry that had been carved into my flesh since her passing. I took a deep breath and stepped through the portal. There I was, outside her loft, her bike sitting in the yard in front. But there was another car there, one that I had never seen before. I shrugged it off, maybe it belonged to one of her neighbors, or one of her friends. It didn't matter, I was going to see my Kristine again. As I approached her door, I heard a man's voice. I hesistated, just with my key in the lock. I slowly opened the door a crack... I could hear Kristine's heavy breathing, the kind of breathing that came when she was about to cum, and I opened the door wide. The "bang" as the door hit the wall startled them both. There was my Kristine, on her back, legs open, being fukked by a man, her eyes flew open with shame and horror. He pulled out of her, still erect, trying to cover himself up. It was my neighbor's friend, Andre. I remember the rage at that moment, I remember taking the long switchblade that I always carried with me, since highschool, and the rage, burning all my senses, I remember sinking the blade into Andre, over and over and over again, until there was nothing but a bloody pulpy mess left of his face. I remember Kristine, cowering in a corner, terrified that she would be next. But I came to my senses then, I could never hurt Kristine, no matter what she did. She was my life, my love, my everything. And so I dialed up the portal, and sent the body into oblivion, and then I stepped back into the future, without my Kristine. She died again that day, in the same horrible manner, but somehow, it didn't hurt as badly as it did the first time. Call it vengeance, call it spite, I call it dying... Dying of the heart. It's been sixteen years now, since I lost my Kristine, one year since I sent Andre's body to oblivion and found that my Kristine wasn't mine after all. And still my heart doesn't beat for anyone as it did for her. I'm just as dead as she is, with little hope of coming back, portal or no. Sometimes I contemplate going back to get her at an earlier time. But Fate won't be denied. If she did it then, she'd do it now, and this time it'd be HER going into oblivion......

Wow is all that comes to mind right now. Bravo!

[BlueMoonWolf]

Nudges the thread....

Sorry i haven't been around. i do have an idea just haven't been well enough to actually finish writing it..



So....... *watches the tumble weeds blow by*

[GemmeFemme]

Nudges the thread....

Sorry i haven't been around. i do have an idea just haven't been well enough to actually finish writing it..



So....... *watches the tumble weeds blow by*

*sits with BMW to watch*

I'm guilty of neglecting this thread also. Hopefully, I'll be settled into my new place shortly and will feel the urge to put pen to paper soon.

[Janeaustensfriend]

Jane loved the sand in trinidad and laid her towel down carefully. Making sure not to have any of the corners up turned. Jane hated that. After making sure that it was totally, and completely flat, jane laid down on it with the utmost of care, not wanting to make any unnecessary adjustments. The sun was very hot and the german and portugese(sp) tourists were now descending upon the beach rather quickly. Their children were crying,having been denied coconuts and sea shells from the local merchants. The gutteral sounds of the Azorian accent, amused jane. The parents were quite clearly exasperated. Jane closed her eyes trying to block it all out, preferring instead to concentrate on the swishing sounds that the palm trees made while blowing in these tropical breezes. Suddenly, jane heard an unfamiliar sound. The sound of shoes on hard wood floors. Quite alien in this beach surrounding. This was not the sound of barefeet and realized that her partner was in the room. Opening her eyes slowly, jane saw her business partner shaking her head. "Where's the blah, blah, blah proposal? "Pardon..what" replied jane in a dreamy voice wondering whether a woman in chat was also her new friend. Jane being new here wondered if it was truly possible to meet others via this forum?

[MiamiButch]

Hey everyone, sorry I haven't been around, but I'm dealing with a personal tragedy. My dad passed away on Thursday, Aug. 21st at 11:45 PM. As many of you know, my father and I were quite close. I would love to write something about him, if you all don't mind, it's a bit of a cathartic thing for me. If it's ok, just let me know. Thanks!

[BlueMoonWolf]

fire away Miami

((((((((((((((( Miami)))))))))))))))))) I am really sorry to hear about your dad passing.

[ABbutch]

my condolences Miami.....please do write something

[GemmeFemme]

Hey everyone, sorry I haven't been around, but I'm dealing with a personal tragedy. My dad passed away on Thursday, Aug. 21st at 11:45 PM. As many of you know, my father and I were quite close. I would love to write something about him, if you all don't mind, it's a bit of a cathartic thing for me. If it's ok, just let me know. Thanks!

I'm so sorry to hear this, MB. Do whatever it is that you need to do to grieve. My thoughts are with you and your family.

[MiamiButch]

Thanks everyone, both for your condolences, as well as for allowing me to grieve, my way. Well, here goes:


Of all the memories of my dad that abide in me, the strongest, most clear ones are the ones that showed me the amount of gentleness and generosity my dad was capable of. It was a a weekly ritual for my father to pack all my friends into his Cadillac and take us out to the drive in. He'd pay for all of us, buy us all the movie junk food, spread out a huge quilt, spray us with bug spray, and put a big radio next to us, so my friends and I could play around, listen to and comment on the movie without having to worry about my parents listening to us.
But of these wonderful memories that we built as I was growing up, it is this bitter sweet one has always touched my heart. My mother divorced my father when I was a senior in High School. My father had been just diagnosed with begining Alzheimers, and though the symptoms were mild, they would progress, like an out of control locomotive, until he was unable to talk, walk or even eat by himself, and had to have a port inserted directly into his stomach so he could take nourishment. I remember coming home from school one day, and finding my father in his rocking chair, tears silently running down his face, just staring out into nowhere, looking sadder than anyone I had ever seen. I asked him what was wrong, and he said, "I just miss your mother." At that moment, I saw my father clearly for the first time. He was a complex man, driven to rages out of frustration, yet gentle enough to cry in his daughters' presence in his loneliness. His generosity was abounding, his word was gold. My father would seal deals of THOUSANDS of dollars with nothing more than a handshake, and NEVER did he go back on his word. He lost my mother because of the onset of a disease that would eventually kill him, but never killed the love he had for her or me. When we had to put my father into a home because the Alzheimers had progressed beyond our capabilities to keep him safe, my mother started coming to see him every day, to feed him, and talk to him. In the begining, I did too. But as the Alzheimers took its toll on his body and mind, I slowly began to drift away from him. I wanted to keep the memory of what and WHO my father was BEFORE this sickness turned him into a total invalid, incapable of even controlling his bowels. When he passed on, I knew that what layed in the casket was nothing more than a shell, and that my father was happy and whole again, looking down upon me from heaven, telling me I had no reason to cry, because he was happy again, and he could do all the things he did before he got ill, and THEN some. I will always miss my father, but I will not grieve any longer, my tears are unneeded. There will come a time when I can once again hold my father tight, look up at him and tell him " I love you, Daddy."

[DaddyPsyche]

MB,

This was beautiful. Thank you for sharing the beauty of your love for your father. He sounds like he was a wonderful man.

Alz. is truly one of the most vicious of all diseases...my heart goes out to you and yours.

[GemmeFemme]

Thanks everyone, both for your condolences, as well as for allowing me to grieve, my way. Well, here goes:


Of all the memories of my dad that abide in me, the strongest, most clear ones are the ones that showed me the amount of gentleness and generosity my dad was capable of. It was a a weekly ritual for my father to pack all my friends into his Cadillac and take us out to the drive in. He'd pay for all of us, buy us all the movie junk food, spread out a huge quilt, spray us with bug spray, and put a big radio next to us, so my friends and I could play around, listen to and comment on the movie without having to worry about my parents listening to us.
But of these wonderful memories that we built as I was growing up, it is this bitter sweet one has always touched my heart. My mother divorced my father when I was a senior in High School. My father had been just diagnosed with begining Alzheimers, and though the symptoms were mild, they would progress, like an out of control locomotive, until he was unable to talk, walk or even eat by himself, and had to have a port inserted directly into his stomach so he could take nourishment. I remember coming home from school one day, and finding my father in his rocking chair, tears silently running down his face, just staring out into nowhere, looking sadder than anyone I had ever seen. I asked him what was wrong, and he said, "I just miss your mother." At that moment, I saw my father clearly for the first time. He was a complex man, driven to rages out of frustration, yet gentle enough to cry in his daughters' presence in his loneliness. His generosity was abounding, his word was gold. My father would seal deals of THOUSANDS of dollars with nothing more than a handshake, and NEVER did he go back on his word. He lost my mother because of the onset of a disease that would eventually kill him, but never killed the love he had for her or me. When we had to put my father into a home because the Alzheimers had progressed beyond our capabilities to keep him safe, my mother started coming to see him every day, to feed him, and talk to him. In the begining, I did too. But as the Alzheimers took its toll on his body and mind, I slowly began to drift away from him. I wanted to keep the memory of what and WHO my father was BEFORE this sickness turned him into a total invalid, incapable of even controlling his bowels. When he passed on, I knew that what layed in the casket was nothing more than a shell, and that my father was happy and whole again, looking down upon me from heaven, telling me I had no reason to cry, because he was happy again, and he could do all the things he did before he got ill, and THEN some. I will always miss my father, but I will not grieve any longer, my tears are unneeded. There will come a time when I can once again hold my father tight, look up at him and tell him " I love you, Daddy."

This is so beautifully touching. You've shown some of us your character through the years and now I see where it began. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask.

[SoulSearcher]

Hello everyone. I am sorry I have not been around. I have been busy with school since I am going to school to become something along the lines of a psychologist. I have also had a-lot going on in my life such as having to move again, and now having to deal with the doctor and what he thinks is wrong. Well.... I have had so much going on that I haven't written anything in a while, i am way overdue to write again. Looking at the thread I don't think I saw any writing topic being used right now, so hopefully something new will get started soon so that I can join you all again. Until then... I hope that all of you are doing good and that you have a great day. MB I am so very sorry to hear about your dad. In some ways, I know what you are going through because of how it was for me when my mom passed away. I know it isn't easy. You will have your good days and bad days. but in time, things truly do begin to get easier and better. If you ever need someone to talk to, you can always send me a message. Big hugs to you MB. Hugs to anyone else who wants them.

[Aryon]

Hmmm .... I scrolled back but being a "senior citizen" (so one Lady says), I can't seem to find the topic of writing. maybe someone could update me please. Thanks.

Aryon

[GemmeFemme]

Hmmm .... I scrolled back but being a "senior citizen" (so one Lady says), I can't seem to find the topic of writing. maybe someone could update me please. Thanks.

Aryon

The thread has been on hiatus. There isn't a topic due now.

[Aryon]

The thread has been on hiatus. There isn't a topic due now.

Thanks GemmeFemme. I'll wait till a topic is decided on then. Seems I keep missing them.

Kind Regards.

[GemmeFemme]

Thanks GemmeFemme. I'll wait till a topic is decided on then. Seems I keep missing them.

Kind Regards.

I would surmise that it's about time for us to get back on track in here and start a new story.

Any takers?

[MiamiButch]

I have an idea... I know, we just PASSED halloween, BUT, hey, it's NEVER too late for a good scary story, now is it? And if you can make it an EROTIC scary story, hehehe.... Even better, no?? ; )

[GemmeFemme]

I have an idea... I know, we just PASSED halloween, BUT, hey, it's NEVER too late for a good scary story, now is it? And if you can make it an EROTIC scary story, hehehe.... Even better, no?? ; )

Either that or a holiday story in general. Right now, we have Thanksgiving and Christmas before us and it will be about a month before the deadline comes, so maybe we could opt for a less specific topic?

[TheaLeticia]

Holiday horror stories, erotic or not.

The easter bunny gone bad.
Trussing in a whole new light.
Or an homage to Califia's The Angel on Top of My Tree.

[GemmeFemme]

Holiday horror stories, erotic or not.

The easter bunny gone bad.
Trussing in a whole new light.
Or an homage to Califia's The Angel on Top of My Tree.

Turkey Trussing 101?

How about, since it's been forever since we've all been in here and no one probably remembers who was doing what, we get back into the groove slowly and on our own terms?

For example, and this is just a suggestion, what if we designate the holidays as the general topic and leave the rest up to each writer? And the usual 'don't make it a book' length and the usual few weeks to write it? The content is open, meaning heartfelt, erotic, horror, or whatever is welcome.

So, as long as it's a holiday story (Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas...and other December holidays...or New Years) and we keep it at a reasonable length (if you have to break it up into multiple posts, then it's too long) and complete it by.....Dec. 1st?....then we're good to go.

Does this sound feasible? Any and all input is welcome.

[TheaLeticia]

Count me in.
Sounds like a great idea to keep it broad Gemme Femme!

[Tommi]

Count me in.
Sounds like a great idea to keep it broad Gemme Femme!

Yes, keeping it broad is a good idea...Uh Oh..that's another thread.
Okay, how about a word count limit..izzat too limiting? and is the topic Thanksgiving with a Dec.1 deadline?

[GemmeFemme]

Yes, keeping it broad is a good idea...Uh Oh..that's another thread.
Okay, how about a word count limit..izzat too limiting? and is the topic Thanksgiving with a Dec.1 deadline?

The topic is the holidays, so Thanksgiving would definitely work. December 1st is the deadline. As for word count, how about below 1000 words? That gives those of us who may take a bit more time to develop the story some wiggle room.

All of this is if the majority approves, of course.

[MiamiButch]

Turkey Bomb
By Miami Butch
Thanksgiving used to be a big deal for our family once upon a time. That was before... Before my sister, who was graced with good looks and cursed with the intelligence of a squeaky toy decided she was going to impress her new husband by cooking Thanksgiving dinner for the whole family. I was recruited to help my sister with the grocery shopping, since she had never attempted to feed as many ppl as she was going to, and I was the traditional family fandango cook. We bought two BIG turkeys, about 30lbs, stuffing, salad, pies, you name it, we got it. I asked my sister if she would be ok prepping the turkey for the feast. She said she had it covered, that she had gotten a great recipe from her friend for stuffing the turkey.
Well, that night, we were all anticipating a great meal, as the smells from my sister's kitchen were making us all salivate worse than Pavlov's dogs. The appetizers turned out wonderfully, (Thank you frozen food ppl!) and the sangria was tasty ( thanks to the fact that all she had to do was dump a can of fruit cocktail into it!). Now came the big event. My sister carried in the first turkey, and it looked GORGEOUS! Perfectly browned and smelled fantastic, from afar. As she got closer, there was a faint trickle of smoke coming out of the turkey, but we all just thought it was from it coming out of the oven. When my late father stuck the carving knife and fork into it, a great gout of flame SHOT out of the turkey, and it caught on fire, freaking everyone out, and everyone started to throw water on the turkey which just made it worse. I grabbed three or four of my mom's linen napkins, soaked them with water and then threw them on the turkey, which finally doused it. When everyone had calmed down, we took the napkins off the now sodden turkey, and tried to see what had caused it to catch fire. Well, my beautiful but slightly brain dead sister had stuffed the turkey all right, BUT she had forgotten to take out THE GIBLET BAG!!! The bag had been smoking hot it the oven, and when the oxygen had hit it, BOOM! Instant turkey bomb! Now, this would have been ok if my wonderful sister had remembered to cook the other turkey, but NOooooo.... THere it was, frozen solid, laying in it's pan in the refrigerator. The reason? My sister thought we would have enough turkey with only one, and she thought if we needed more she could just pop the other in the oven and VOILA more turkey. My poor sister was in tears, and we felt so bad, we just said, forget the turkey, let's all go have dinner out, our treat. Since that day, our family has steered clear of cooking Thanksgiving dinner... ONE turkey bomb incident is more than enough for ANYONE! lol

[GemmeFemme]

Turkey Bomb
By Miami Butch
Thanksgiving used to be a big deal for our family once upon a time. That was before... Before my sister, who was graced with good looks and cursed with the intelligence of a squeaky toy decided she was going to impress her new husband by cooking Thanksgiving dinner for the whole family. I was recruited to help my sister with the grocery shopping, since she had never attempted to feed as many ppl as she was going to, and I was the traditional family fandango cook. We bought two BIG turkeys, about 30lbs, stuffing, salad, pies, you name it, we got it. I asked my sister if she would be ok prepping the turkey for the feast. She said she had it covered, that she had gotten a great recipe from her friend for stuffing the turkey.
Well, that night, we were all anticipating a great meal, as the smells from my sister's kitchen were making us all salivate worse than Pavlov's dogs. The appetizers turned out wonderfully, (Thank you frozen food ppl!) and the sangria was tasty ( thanks to the fact that all she had to do was dump a can of fruit cocktail into it!). Now came the big event. My sister carried in the first turkey, and it looked GORGEOUS! Perfectly browned and smelled fantastic, from afar. As she got closer, there was a faint trickle of smoke coming out of the turkey, but we all just thought it was from it coming out of the oven. When my late father stuck the carving knife and fork into it, a great gout of flame SHOT out of the turkey, and it caught on fire, freaking everyone out, and everyone started to throw water on the turkey which just made it worse. I grabbed three or four of my mom's linen napkins, soaked them with water and then threw them on the turkey, which finally doused it. When everyone had calmed down, we took the napkins off the now sodden turkey, and tried to see what had caused it to catch fire. Well, my beautiful but slightly brain dead sister had stuffed the turkey all right, BUT she had forgotten to take out THE GIBLET BAG!!! The bag had been smoking hot it the oven, and when the oxygen had hit it, BOOM! Instant turkey bomb! Now, this would have been ok if my wonderful sister had remembered to cook the other turkey, but NOooooo.... THere it was, frozen solid, laying in it's pan in the refrigerator. The reason? My sister thought we would have enough turkey with only one, and she thought if we needed more she could just pop the other in the oven and VOILA more turkey. My poor sister was in tears, and we felt so bad, we just said, forget the turkey, let's all go have dinner out, our treat. Since that day, our family has steered clear of cooking Thanksgiving dinner... ONE turkey bomb incident is more than enough for ANYONE! lol

What a great first entry! Welcome back.

Squeaky toy, indeed.

[BlueMoonWolf]

*Snorting laughing* Excellent Miami!

[GemmeFemme]

The topic is the holidays, so Thanksgiving would definitely work. December 1st is the deadline. As for word count, how about below 1000 words? That gives those of us who may take a bit more time to develop the story some wiggle room.

All of this is if the majority approves, of course.

Tomorrow is the deadline for story entries, folks! I know MB isn't the only one with a story up their sleeve. To give everyone as long as possible, let's make 11:59 pm PST the deadline, so all you East coast folks will have until 2:59 am EST. No excuses!

I'm going to buckle down and finish (i.e. start and then finish) mine tonight or tomorrow morning. I know, if I can do it, the rest of you slackers can too!

To refresh your memories: holiday theme, any format (poetry, short story, etc), 1000 words or less, any genre (humor, gore, political, whatever goes!), and it's due by TOMORROW!!!

So, get to writing!

[MiamiButch]

Thank you, thank you... By the way, believe it or not, it IS a true story... my sister has YET to live it down! LMAO..... This year, I spent thanksgiving alone, sick as the proverbial dog, giving many offerings to the porcelain god.... I HATE having food poisoning!! Lesson learned, never eat Taco Hell at 4AM and then go to sleep.... lol

[GemmeFemme]

Thank you, thank you... By the way, believe it or not, it IS a true story... my sister has YET to live it down! LMAO..... This year, I spent thanksgiving alone, sick as the proverbial dog, giving many offerings to the porcelain god.... I HATE having food poisoning!! Lesson learned, never eat Taco Hell at 4AM and then go to sleep.... lol

Yanno, I've heard that that will cause nightmares. No kidding.

Hope you feel better now!

[BlueMoonWolf]

feels sufficiently spanked now and runs off to finish

[BlueMoonWolf]

okay so i know it's late but gimme 20 more minutes... pleaaaaaaaaaaseee

[BlueMoonWolf]

Okay so I guess that 20 minutes was femme time 20 minutes, but here it is and I actually came in just under the wire at 993 words LMAO

She watched in silence as the girl was pushed, slapped and shoved along the hallway towards the washroom. Only those sitting close around her heard the low growl emanating from her. She watched the hallway waiting for the right moment and it came when the drunken stumbling idiot came out from the washroom without the girl. She stood, looking at her companions; she made her wishes known with slight nods and glances. Her companions moved to obey her commands as the last two followed her as she strode towards the washrooms. People cleared a path as she walked, they could not help themselves. She was a force of nature intent on her mission, parting the sea of people.

She pushed the washroom door open slowly and surveyed the scene within. The girl was curled up on the floor, crying and covered in eggnog. The overpoweringly sweet and spicy scent filling the small space, turning it from a pleasant holiday scent to a nauseating one. The girl pulled her knees up to her chest to protect herself as she heard the door open. Before she allowed the door to close she whispered instructions to one of her escorts and shut the door slowly so not to send the poor girl on the floor into a deeper place of fear.

“Oh baby girl… what did he do to you this time?” she said softly and almost to herself as she kneeled down to check the girl on the floor. She gently pulled her eggnog soaked hair out of the girl’s eyes. She was greeted by the start of one killer black eye come morning. “What a lovely gift for Christmas.” she thought to herself as she helped the girl sit up. As she got her to sitting and leaning against the wall, the soft whimpering and sniffles had slowed.

The door opened slightly, the girl froze in fear as the woman’s bag was placed inside the door and it closed again. The woman rubbed her hand, “Don’t worry baby girl, my friends are outside that door. He won’t be coming in here. You are safe.” She pulled her bag closer and began to rummage through it.

She pulled out some wipes and began to clean her up; as she cleaned she began to speak to her. “Baby Girl, you don’t have to live like this. You are worth so much more than the likes of him.” She gently wiped away the eggnog dripping from her hair, and began to work on clearing away the smudged make up, tears and eggnog. She held her chin as she worked.

“A submissive that knows how much they are worth is worth their weight in gold…” She looked into the girl’s eyes and smiled a little. “Just because he can fuck you hard, it does not mean the he is a good dominant little girl. A good dominant knows not to break their toys.” She worked carefully to clean the girl’s split lip; she stopped for a moment and looked in the girl’s eyes again. “You can break anyone if you are willing to hurt them enough and baby… he is prepared to hurt you enough.”

She helped the girl to her feet and continued to clean her up; she turned her towards the mirror and asked her. “Do you see what you’re worth baby girl?”

The girl was silent for a moment, staring at whatever it was she saw in the mirror. Her cracked and strained voice finally pushed past the new and old bruises, “I see nothing.”
Her head dropped. All of the fight and spark left her for a moment, creating the ghost in the mirror the girl already saw. The woman lifted her head and motioned for her to look in the mirror again. “Baby girl… Stop selling yourself for the price of a chocolate bar. You could have the world to worship at your feet… if you only could figure out that the only reason a dominant can exist is because of submissive like us. Without us to give them the place they would have no where to go with their caramel to our chocolate.”

The woman saw the shift begin in the mirror then as it translated into the girl’s body. She felt her stand a little firmer, a little taller and less like the ghost she was a moment ago. She watched silently as the girl moved to take the small jeweled dagger from between her breasts. She said nothing as the girl brought the knife to her neck, and cut away the flimsy leather collar. She turned to the woman and spoke again, “Do you have somewhere safe for me tonight?”

The woman only nodded not daring to speak; she didn’t want to break the spell that had come over the girl. She stepped back as the girl moved towards the door, clutching both the knife and the collar in her hand. She followed the girl as she walked towards the drunken ignorant fool. He saw her coming and bellowed. “That is not how trash approaches me you little fool.” She stood her ground as she came closer. He tried to stand but the woman’s escorts made sure that didn’t happen. She finally reached the table and stood to look at the person she use to think ruled her world and saw the fool.

He snarled, “What do you think you are doing bitch?”

She smiled at him and spoke evenly and calmly, “Discovering my worth. I already know I am worth more than you.” She tossed the collar into his lap as the woman’s escorts made the fool sit down again and lower his fist. She spoke again, “I am not yours any more.”

She floated out of the bar with the woman and her escorts surrounding her, into the waiting cars, as the door closed she smiled and said to no one in particular, “It’s my own Christmas miracle.”

[MiamiButch]

Yanno, I've heard that that will cause nightmares. No kidding.

Hope you feel better now!

Which one of the two, the sister's exploding turkey or the Taco Bell Hell?? lol

[GemmeFemme]

Okay so I guess that 20 minutes was femme time 20 minutes, but here it is and I actually came in just under the wire at 993 words LMAO

She watched in silence as the girl was pushed, slapped and shoved along the hallway towards the washroom. Only those sitting close around her heard the low growl emanating from her. She watched the hallway waiting for the right moment and it came when the drunken stumbling idiot came out from the washroom without the girl. She stood, looking at her companions; she made her wishes known with slight nods and glances. Her companions moved to obey her commands as the last two followed her as she strode towards the washrooms. People cleared a path as she walked, they could not help themselves. She was a force of nature intent on her mission, parting the sea of people.

She pushed the washroom door open slowly and surveyed the scene within. The girl was curled up on the floor, crying and covered in eggnog. The overpoweringly sweet and spicy scent filling the small space, turning it from a pleasant holiday scent to a nauseating one. The girl pulled her knees up to her chest to protect herself as she heard the door open. Before she allowed the door to close she whispered instructions to one of her escorts and shut the door slowly so not to send the poor girl on the floor into a deeper place of fear.

“Oh baby girl… what did he do to you this time?” she said softly and almost to herself as she kneeled down to check the girl on the floor. She gently pulled her eggnog soaked hair out of the girl’s eyes. She was greeted by the start of one killer black eye come morning. “What a lovely gift for Christmas.” she thought to herself as she helped the girl sit up. As she got her to sitting and leaning against the wall, the soft whimpering and sniffles had slowed.

The door opened slightly, the girl froze in fear as the woman’s bag was placed inside the door and it closed again. The woman rubbed her hand, “Don’t worry baby girl, my friends are outside that door. He won’t be coming in here. You are safe.” She pulled her bag closer and began to rummage through it.

She pulled out some wipes and began to clean her up; as she cleaned she began to speak to her. “Baby Girl, you don’t have to live like this. You are worth so much more than the likes of him.” She gently wiped away the eggnog dripping from her hair, and began to work on clearing away the smudged make up, tears and eggnog. She held her chin as she worked.

“A submissive that knows how much they are worth is worth their weight in gold…” She looked into the girl’s eyes and smiled a little. “Just because he can fuck you hard, it does not mean the he is a good dominant little girl. A good dominant knows not to break their toys.” She worked carefully to clean the girl’s split lip; she stopped for a moment and looked in the girl’s eyes again. “You can break anyone if you are willing to hurt them enough and baby… he is prepared to hurt you enough.”

She helped the girl to her feet and continued to clean her up; she turned her towards the mirror and asked her. “Do you see what you’re worth baby girl?”

The girl was silent for a moment, staring at whatever it was she saw in the mirror. Her cracked and strained voice finally pushed past the new and old bruises, “I see nothing.”
Her head dropped. All of the fight and spark left her for a moment, creating the ghost in the mirror the girl already saw. The woman lifted her head and motioned for her to look in the mirror again. “Baby girl… Stop selling yourself for the price of a chocolate bar. You could have the world to worship at your feet… if you only could figure out that the only reason a dominant can exist is because of submissive like us. Without us to give them the place they would have no where to go with their caramel to our chocolate.”

The woman saw the shift begin in the mirror then as it translated into the girl’s body. She felt her stand a little firmer, a little taller and less like the ghost she was a moment ago. She watched silently as the girl moved to take the small jeweled dagger from between her breasts. She said nothing as the girl brought the knife to her neck, and cut away the flimsy leather collar. She turned to the woman and spoke again, “Do you have somewhere safe for me tonight?”

The woman only nodded not daring to speak; she didn’t want to break the spell that had come over the girl. She stepped back as the girl moved towards the door, clutching both the knife and the collar in her hand. She followed the girl as she walked towards the drunken ignorant fool. He saw her coming and bellowed. “That is not how trash approaches me you little fool.” She stood her ground as she came closer. He tried to stand but the woman’s escorts made sure that didn’t happen. She finally reached the table and stood to look at the person she use to think ruled her world and saw the fool.

He snarled, “What do you think you are doing bitch?”

She smiled at him and spoke evenly and calmly, “Discovering my worth. I already know I am worth more than you.” She tossed the collar into his lap as the woman’s escorts made the fool sit down again and lower his fist. She spoke again, “I am not yours any more.”

She floated out of the bar with the woman and her escorts surrounding her, into the waiting cars, as the door closed she smiled and said to no one in particular, “It’s my own Christmas miracle.”

Ohhhhh. Unexpected and delightful!

Thank you, BMW. Excellent story.

Which one of the two, the sister's exploding turkey or the Taco Bell Hell?? lol

Um, both.


Okay, my lovelies. My offering is coming soon. It's not anything what I'd hoped it be, but I think it's important to get work up in here, even if it's not the best I could offer. The important thing is that we write and we write often. The quality will improve (for me, anyway) with practice...and I am SO out of practice.

[GemmeFemme]

Christmas isn't what
it used to be
it doesn't mean what
it used to mean
carolers rarely roam
from shops to homes
Santa has been bought;
manners no longer taught
crowded malls are the thing
while propaganda promoters sing
songs of promotional lies
meant to entice
families into debt
and New Year's regrets
and yet
somewhere
out there
a child waits impatiently
for what will surely be
the night of all nights
when everything is right
he lifts his face to the sky
not wanting to miss the lights
as Santa flies by