Tuesday, August 27, 2013

Having fun with naughty bits

Just a funny little article to share:

"35 Classy Slang Terms for Naughty Bits from the Past 600 Years"

First of all, why are our bits naughty?  They have a job to do, and hopefully they do it well and often - which means they're good, right?  Any way...go ahead...click on the link...you know you want to.  Have a giggle or two over the lists and then try some of them out in sentences.  Maybe you can incorporate a few in your erotic lexicon.  I know I'm always floundering for new names for genitalia when I write.

Let's try out a few...

The gentleman played his silent flute down Petticoat Lane.

Mr. Peaslin is sneaking into Mrs. Fubbs' Parlor.

He places his Staff of Life on the Alter of Venus.

Go ahead and give it a try and add it to the comments.

(I think this sort of counts as a Wicked Wednesday post, doesn't it?)

Friday, August 23, 2013

Two for the price of one! (FFF)

Today, you get two very different interpretations of the FFF photo and prompt below.  Daddy actually wrote one!  It was late, but maybe the wine made him do it.  

I decided not to read it until I wrote my version (just to make sure his ideas didn't influence mine).  

Anyhow, here you go....

Word Limit = 250
Required Phrase = "Before" or  "After"

Forbidden Words = Abandoned, Empty, mp3 player, and rope
Bonus Words = You can go up to 300 total if you tell us both how she got there and what happened after she was found.

Paybacks are a Bitch
Brigit Delaney

Sharp intake of dirty, cold morning air.  Eyes spring open, blinking furiously, trying to focus.

Where the fuck am I?

Whitewashed storefronts.  Iron-gated windows.  Asphalt.  A curious cleanliness and an unsettling silence.  No din of traffic.  No voices.

What was that?

Insistent scream of a gull resonates.  Peripheral vision uncovers red paper lanterns.  Fong's Bar.

Mental images come rushing back.

Truth or dare?  

Four women in a booth.  Too many empty bottles erase rational decision-making skills.

Fuck my head hurts.  And my shoulder blade.  Damn it!

She moves her bound arms, trying to relieve the sharp pain.

I didn't know they would go this far.

The questions flew across the table like bullets, waiting to find the right target.  Have you ever been tied up for sexual purposes?  Are you an exhibitionist?  What's your greatest fear?

No.  No.  Not being able to communicate.

Dare.  Somebody had to break the truth cycle.   I dare you to let us do anything we want to you once you pass out.  Hesitant, nervous laughter.  Trust us.  We're your friends.  We promise not to hurt you.

I'm never drinking again.  

Sound of a door opening.  Slow footsteps.  Something in Chinese.


Horrified expression.  You dead, lady?

No.  Fuck.  Just untie me!  I'm alive!  

Painful facial stretch after the gag is removed.  Throat too dry to speak.

Untie my hands!

Arms too numb to support weight.  Pins and needles.  Throat cracks.

"Water, please?  And I'm cold."

I'm going to kill them before they have a chance to explain.

A Family Affair
Mr. LL/Daddy

Don knew the mark would pass by this spot.  He knew that the mark’s predatory nature would not let him pass by the bait. But she wasn’t bait...she was his … his…everything. Before she had come to him he wasn't whole, but Athena was his only chance at ending the nightmare that had plagued the shadows of his mind.

Don had followed this mark here to see the end of his existence; to see himself done. There was nothing more he sought in life...every breath was one closer to that motherfucker’s demise. So powerful was the drive that he wondered what he would become when he finished: an alcoholic, addict, missionary, maybe a prisoner?

Don drove the shitty mini-van down the narrow street past Fong’s, stopping quickly and opening the rear hatch. He asked Athena if she was still good.  She only looked at him with those steel blue eyes wide and nodded yes, not making a sound through her gag. She knew the plan and was ready to get this one just like the others.

Don gently dropped her on the street and sped into the alley, parking behind a large metal dumpster for concealment.

Don grabbed his rifle from the van and set up behind some fetid bags of trash.

The mark came, Don could see the surprise and delight on his face when he quickly scooped up Athena’s naked, bound body and threw her over his left shoulder. Her head hung midway on the mark’s back.

Don exhaled slowly and squeezed the trigger, watching in the scope as the bullet passed through her head and into the mark.

After they both lay still,  Don quietly thought to himself, “Fuck you, Dad.  And you, you home-wrecking cunt.  Mom had better have that money ready."

Thursday, August 22, 2013

Suspicion...Part Two (trigger warning)

Trigger Warning:  rape used in BDSM context

A few weeks ago, there was a FFF prompt that led to my story "Suspicion".  A friend of mine decided to add to what I started and emailed me what he came up with.  Thought I'd share it here as Part Two.

Read Part One HERE.

And now, enjoy Part Two...

Greg said sternly to Stella, "Sit on the bed," as he moved quickly across the room to intercept the terrified young man at the door.

Greg had been a detective for five years and was the shining star of his detachment, bringing cases to the prosecutor that not even Sgt. Collins would have touched. But, prior to being transferred to his cushy Detective desk, unmarked car, and weekday schedule, he had been a patrol officer for ten years. He had spent countless graveyard shifts pursuing people who were really intent on not going to jail. Dopers, gang-bangers, and other miscreants could put up one hell of a fight, so Greg already had a course of action devised when he cut off the young man running for the door.

Greg thought to himself, "I am going to catch him before he gets to that door; he will have his body slightly turned as he tries to go through it, exposing his left arm. I will take him down with an armbar to prone cuffing position and..."

Greg did not get a chance to finish the thought because, as the two of them met at the door, the young man was too concerned with Greg and ran head first into the door frame. The crack of his head against the wood was loud; the resounding thud of his limp body hitting the floor was louder, but what pierced the room was Stella's screech of terror, "Oh fuck Greg, you killed him! Oh god...I didn't mean for this to happen...I did not mean for this to happen...oh god...oh dear fuck!"

"Stella calm yourself; you are starting to hyperventilate.  He is breathing.  He just knocked himself cold is all." Greg was speaking in that cool tone that Stella knew was the truth, and she immediately stopped speaking and tried to control her shallow panicked breaths. Stella was now standing at the foot of the bed looking at Greg, who had that wicked cool smile on his face. Greg pulled the limp body of the young man up to the bed by his arm and hoisted him onto it face down.

"Stella would you please go get me two aspirin, a glass of water, and a cool towel; his head is going to hurt when he wakes up.  By the way, what is his name?"

Stella sheepishly looked at the floor and mumbled something unintelligible.

"What?" Greg demanded but he already knew what she was going to say.

Still looking at the floor, she said, "I don't know..." in a very childish and pouty sort of way. "Stacy and I went to lunch at the Bayview country club; he was the valet. I remember his face from the photos of "possibles" that you have on your computer for me to meet.  I told him that I was Stacy and I never asked his name. I know I am supposed to let you pick them, Greg, but I was so horny and I had the itch...it was making me crazy. You have been working so hard on your case, we haven't had a lot of time to do this together..." she trailed off.

"I have to admit I am just  little disappointed in you.  I don't think you are ready for men all by yourself, without me there. How did you set it all up?  Did you take all of the precautions I normally do?  Were you safe?"

Stella lost the sheepishness and nodded yes with a devilish smile that only a naked woman can possess.

Knowing he was now in the middle of this, Greg told her, "Well, go get what I asked for Stella; I think he is starting to come around."

Stella left in a hurry to get the items Greg had told her to. Greg, meanwhile, grabbed the young man's left wrist and removed the handcuffs from the small leather holder under his right arm. He was just about to place the blade of the metal cuff against the valet's wrist when he paused, put the cuffs back in the holder, and reached into the nightstand drawer. He thought to himself, "I need to teach this boy some manners. And, Stella knows she is supposed to let me do the final screening on these guys before she brings them home."


"Uuuunnnnnggggghhh..." Caleb's head hurt.  It felt like he had been hit with a baseball bat.  Had he.... No, Caleb remembered running toward the door and looking over his shoulder at Stacy's husband coming at him before he hit the frame of the door. Caleb tried to move his arms that were outstretched in a wide "V", but could not.  His legs felt the same way; and, what in the fuck was he laying on?
Caleb opened his eyes just a little, and the light that invaded them seemed to intensify the pain in his right temple. Hair, a female neck, and that perfume...he was utterly shocked to find that Stacy was underneath him and that they both were naked. The shock of the realization made him open his eyes wide and lift his head. Stacy was beneath him face down, and her arms were next to his, shackled to the headboard with leather restraints in a wide "V".  Stacy had been crying, and Caleb could tell because he could see that her mascara had run down her cheeks when she turned her head.

"He is going to kill us both...I don't want to die like this! I don't even know your name..." sobbed Stella.

"My name is Caleb," he said, not knowing what else to say. Caleb tried to sound soothing and calm, but the terror in his voice came through, which made Stella sob even more.

Caleb was trying to think through the pain in his head, "Fuck, fuck, fuck...what am I going to do...how am I going to get us out of this?" he thought. Outside the door to the bedroom he heard the shuffling of papers and a male voice say, "I am sorry, sir; she is tied up with an emergency at the moment.  You know how she can be... I will be there first thing in the morning, sir... You know I would not cancel if this were not an emergency; homicide is one of those things I take seriously and am very good at... Thank you sir, I will tell her you said hello, and I will also brief you on a new secondary case I picked up today... Goodbye, sir."

Caleb began wondering what he had gotten into, Stacy had said that her husband was an insurance company executive. "What the fuck?" he thought to himself, with Stacy still sobbing below him, "The only insurance this guy deals with is the type people pay to keep men like him from burning down their bodega."

Caleb had seen lots of different people at the country club, and he should have known. The only ones with smoking hot wives that always flirted were the guys rumored to be in the mob. The stockbroker's and banker's wives were usually nice but treated him only as a valet. The mob wives came from a different background and lived a different life than the businessmen's wives. Add to that the fact that as he was running for the door he was sure he saw a gun in a shoulder holster under the left arm of Stacy's husband, Caleb was positive he was a dead man before the night was over.

Over Caleb's left shoulder there were footsteps and then the stinging pain of his ass being slapped. Not a playful slap but a full on swing with a open palm that instantly turned his left ass cheek bright red and made him wince from the pain. With the crack of skin on skin, Stella sobbed melodramatically, "Nooo...Jimmy, please don't hurt us!"

Caleb started to plead, too, "Fuck, man, I will do anything you want, anything... pleassssse don't kill us!"

There was no response from Greg, only a momentary swish and then Caleb's ass felt as if a bomb had gone off on it.  The pain was so intense, Caleb thought, "Jimmy must have cut me with a machete."  Caleb screamed, "Awww!  Fuuuuucccckkkk! Owwww!  Fuuuccckk!" at the top of his lungs and began to cry the sobs of a boy. His sobs only seemed to make Stella sob worse, but in a strange way, like she was having trouble breathing; it could also have been because she was burying her face in the pillow to keep from seeing.

Greg calmly walked over to the nightstand and opened it again, pulling out a red gag-ball. Caleb's eye flashed down to the cane he was holding (which made him feel just a tiny bit better, as it was not a machete) and back to the gag-ball. Greg looked Caleb right in the eye and said, "Open your fucking mouth."

Caleb did as he was told, thinking to himself, "Oh sweet Jesus, this is Pulp Fiction."  When the gag-ball was securely in Caleb's mouth, Greg stepped back and looked into Caleb's now watery, red eyes.

"I am going ask you some direct questions, and I want you to nod yes or no, ok?" Greg said cooly. "If you are truthful, I will go much easier on you, if not..." Caleb nodded an emphatic "yes" to Greg's command, which made Stella sob into the pillow in her now strange manner.

"Do you work at the Bayview?" Greg asked, to which Caleb nodded an affirmative.

"Did the little whore here tell you she was married?" Caleb nodded "yes" again, but much more sullenly.

"Did you fuck her?"  A small nod "yes."

"In her mouth?"  Slower and smaller nods "yes" with downcast eyes.

"In her pussy?"  Tiny nods "yes" with tears.

"In her ass?"   A shake of the head "no," assertively.
"I don't believe you," Greg quipped, and again the cane swished through the air, coming down hard on the backs of Caleb's thighs.

"Hruuuunngggghhhh! Huuuuhn... huuuhn.... huuuuuhn...." Caleb screamed through the gag-ball. Stella moaned underneath him, as if she liked it.

"DID YOU FUCK HER IN THE ASS?!!" Greg screamed, totally absent of frustration.  It was a command of someone in complete control of a situation.

Caleb shook his head "no" again, very slowly, wincing, obviously waiting for the cane to visit his ass again.

"Hey, slut, did he fuck you in your ass?" Greg asked Stella, who moaned "no" into the pillow.

 "Ok, so you did not fuck her in the ass?" Nods of "yes" and then "no" and "yes" again before wincing and waiting for the cane.

Greg moved out of Caleb's limited field of view; Caleb heard a thump of something small hitting the floor, and he was truly surprised when Greg reappeared naked with an erection jutting in front of him.  Caleb was expecting (and fearing) the atomic bomb of the horribly vicious cane was going to revisit his swollen ass. But on reappearance, Greg simply opened the nightstand drawer, removed a larger purple vibrator and a bottle of lube.  Caleb's eyes grew big. "Only one of these is for you; can you guess which one?" said Greg, with an extremely over- exaggerated wink.

Greg rolled a condom on his erect cock and climbed onto the bed in between Caleb's and Stella's legs. As he did so, Stella, whose legs weren't shackled, spread her's wider, and she moaned, rotating her hips to expose her very wet pussy. Greg took the bottle of lube and squeezed it at the top of Caleb's ass, letting it dribble down onto Stella's ass, causing her to moan again. Caleb thought to himself, "What a fucking whore; we both are going to be killed by this crazy mobster, and this slut is enjoying herself?"

"So I know a little about you Caleb.  I heard that you are on the watch list at work. They said you were put on a short leash because, supposedly, you like to take certain gentleman members for rides...and not in the automotive sense.  Do you like men Caleb?"  Greg asked.

Greg started swirling the lube on Caleb's  asshole with his index finger, but it clamped closed every time Greg touched the center-most point. With the other hand, he was stroking Caleb's balls and cock with the buzzing vibrator. With every pass, Greg moved down and stroked Stella's pussy lips and engorged clit, making her moan. Stella had stopped moaning into the pillow, had turned her head to the left, and was no longer stifling her excitement.

"They really thought that your sexual orientation would reflect badly on the club, which of course is ignorant at best, but fucking members is not a good idea as it makes people uncomfortable." To punctuate this statement, Greg pushed forward on the vibrator into Stella's pussy making her moan loudly, and he pushed his index finger into Caleb's tight asshole, causing him to clench his ass cheeks in protest, but rotate his hips upward in acceptance as Greg was buried his finger all the way to the last knuckle.

"It seems like we should talk about all that later." Greg pulled out his finger, leaned in, and placed the head of his cock on Caleb's lubed asshole. Greg gave it a push and slipped it in just past the head, causing Caleb to exhale sharply. While Caleb was getting used to the cock in his ass, Greg leaned forward and took loose Stella wrists from the restraints.  Caleb didn't even notice because Greg was still pushing forward until their balls were touching. With Greg filling his ass, Caleb moaned again through the gag ball.

Stella shifted her hips just slightly to the right just enough to grab Caleb's now erect dick and stroked it while fucking herself with the vibrator Greg had left dangling from her unceremoniously . Greg was building speed and beginning to pound Caleb's ass hard. Greg would pull his cock out just enough to let Caleb's ass clamp back shut, and then he would thrust it back in. Caleb started moaning louder through the gag-ball and Stella could tell he was getting close to blowing cum everywhere. This made Stella quicken her pace with the vibrator; Stella's noises coupled with Caleb's tight ass put Greg right on the edge.

Caleb came first, blowing his stickiness all over Stella's back. Because she loved making men cum, Stella came seconds later with a gush. Greg was the last one, but Stella's cries of release made short work of him, causing him to grab Caleb's shoulder and sink his cock all the way to the root, flexing his thighs and ass to get it as deep into Caleb while he shuddered and blew his load.

When the moment was over, Greg pulled his cock out of Caleb's ass, leaving the condom hanging out of it.

Stella wiggled out from underneath of him.  Caleb was left gagged and tied to the bed, with nothing but his suspicion of who was actually responsible.

Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Little Miss Muffet

"Little Miss Muffet..."

He reached down between her legs.

"...sat on her tuffet..."

He slipped his hand, between her legs, into the crotch of her ruffled panties, as she sat at the kitchen table, drinking her morning coffee over the newspaper.  His voice was subtle and playful in her ear.  A whisper.  An invitation.

"...eating her curds and whey..."

He took a ripe strawberry from the bowl on the table and placed it in her open, waiting mouth, effectively pulling her attention away from headlines and current events.

"...Along came a spider..."

His tongue tickled her neck as he kissed a path to her ear.

"...who sat down beside her..."

He sat down and pulled her onto his lap.  A sigh escaped her lips...a silent offering of her body, a conditioned response to an expected stimulus.

and invited Miss Muffet to play..."

She put down her coffee cup, closed her eyes, and let his hands change the course of her day.

(Visit the Wicked Wednesday website to see what others did with the prompt.)