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I have a lot of pet peeves, and as of late, a particular nasty one has begun to flare up with a degree of frequency that causes me an endless amount of irritation.
What pet peeve you may ask?
Whey the peeve that comes about when people who are incredibly passionate about a particular issue, say the military's Don't Ask, Don't Tell policy, have a tendency to ignore any and all facts that don't pertain/fit their rose colored view of the universe.
In case you've been either living under a rock or been living your life with your focus exclusively on your personal problems (as it should be), then this past Thursday (12/9) a repeal of the Don't Ask, Don't Tell policy was narrowly defeated in the Senate.
And true to form, all the blather by the pundits, activists and other assorted individuals whose sole purpose in life is to make life a little more miserable for everyone else who isn't like THEM, immediately started blaming the G.O.P. for the failure of the repeal to go through.
However, lets take off those blinders shall we and take a closer look at the FACTS (you know, those things that most people conveniently disregard when they don't want to be proven WRONG) surrounding this issue.
1} The G.O.P. wanted more time to consider the broader defense authorization bill, of which the repeal was a component thereof. Also, the G.O.P. vowed to block all legislation until a stalemate over the expiring Bush era tax cuts was resolved.
2} In spite of the G.O.P vow (which was either a good thing or a bad thing), Senate majority leader Harry Reid decided to call for a quick vote that Thursday over the objections of supporters for the repeal (yes, I said supporters).
3} End result was that everyone was caught off guard and the vote failed by three votes, which coincidentally was the total amount of senators absent from the vote.
Now, I don't know about you, but if I was in the same shoes as Harry Reid, I would think twice about flexing my power and bullying of the minority party into voting for something. Especially since my bullying lead to a serious decline of my party's fortunes.
Let's face it folks, sometimes you do have to play nice, and would it really have hurt to let the G.O.P debate the defense authorization bill for a few days while at the same time letting a deal that some liberal Democrats found repugnant go through, in order to get what you wanted in the end?
To sum it up, the defeat of the repeal of Don't Ask, Don't Tell should not be laid 100% squarely at the feet of the G.O.P.
A key Democrat was involved in this defeat, and in spite of the promise of two other prominent senators (one an indy and one a Republican) to reintroduce the repeal as a stand alone bill, this probably will wind up being a court mandated repeal.
So please, if you're gonna blame the G.O.P., then you must blame Harry Reid for the defeat as well, because his ego was simply too huge to let something like a compromise on an item that he intensely disliked dictate how he was going to do this.
He wound up doing things his way.
And guess what peoples?
His way killed what little hope you had for repeal the normal way.
Not the G.O.P.
Harry Reid.
Sunday, December 12, 2010
Friday, November 26, 2010
Purrrfect!
Sometimes when I find myself by necessity in between writing projects, I try to keep my creative brain cells from atrophying by mentally working on my descriptive scenes. It's pretty easy to do, considering some of the mundane things I have to do in order to keep myself functioning in this world. At least that's what I tell my compadre from time to time.
Have you had the chance to meet my compadre yet? No? Well, let me tell you about my compadre.
She is a few inches taller than me, lithe, yet ruggedly built from a lifetime spent working and living in the mountains. When you see her galloping down the mountainside on her chestnut mare, with her waist length red hair trailing behind like a fiery comet and the sun expertly accentuating the hint of mushroom that is her skin, your jaw will simply drop in amazement.
Your heart starts to skip a beat as the mountain scent grows stronger and threatens to overload your senses, but just as quick it leaps into your throat the second she comes crashing to a halt in front of you.
She leaps off her horse and gives her minion a hard shove to the ground. She quickly follows that up by placing her boot on his throat and throwing a hairbrush at him. As he's reaching for the brush, she suddenly flips to hunter's mode and drops a hard punch to his stomach. Satisfied that he wasn't going to move anytime soon, she walks over to her quarry.
Damn! I hate it when she does that to me. I wish she would have a little faith in me. Jesus Christ almighty, I think she cracked a rib. Anyways, as you can see, my compadre is dressed to kill: her fiery red hair compliments the almost skin tight black leather outfit which expertly accentuates her weaponry; her lipstick and fingernail polish the bloodiest red you'll ever see in your lifetime and the brilliance of the sun being so heavily concentrated in her diamond nose stud that to focus directly on it invites your optic nerves to be fried away.
You quickly start to walk backwards because you are positively convinced that to hang around would cause a permanent change in your genetic code for decades to come. She starts to walk faster towards you and you suddenly freeze in your tracks because you inadvertently looked into her eyes and caught a glimpse of what your short future as a human being on this planet was going to look like.
Before you realize it, she has grabbed your face and the only thing you can see are those two tiny black eyes and a forked tongue lightly flicking at your cheek. Suddenly, she crinkles her nose and frowns. Pursing her lips, she gives your face a couple of hard taps, throws you a smile that causes you to wince in pain and snaps her fingers.
You discover that you can move your feet, so the second she turns her head, you split the scene. In the meantime, she's already focused on her next victim....
"Holy Shit! Oh man, I didn't do nothing! Go pick on someone else for a change!"
In a matter of moments she is on top of her minion delivering blistering slaps to his face and head. Sufficiently stunned, he offers no resistance as she grabs him by the shirt collar and jerks him to his feet. She stares deep into his eyes until the smell of human flesh brings him around.
"Stop frying my brain cells! I need those to function! Without those I am nothing but a piece of meat to you!"
Next thing I know, she draws me closer, flicks her tongue a couple of times and raises an eyebrow. I sigh heavily and reluctantly unbutton her vest and shirt. Unlike before, I only open them far enough until I see cleavage. I stare at the valley that gave me so much pleasure early on in my friendship but now only gives pain and heartache until I get a pounding headache.
I tap the left side of my neck a couple of times and tilt my head. She gives my chin just the lightest of flicks, before opening her mouth and flashing those razor sharp pearly whites of hers. I grab hold of her waist for added support and as I start to lose consciousness I can feel her readjusting her bite so as to get a better flow, and I say to myself, "She is one hot frenemy."
(c)2010 by GBMJr. All rights reserved
Have you had the chance to meet my compadre yet? No? Well, let me tell you about my compadre.
She is a few inches taller than me, lithe, yet ruggedly built from a lifetime spent working and living in the mountains. When you see her galloping down the mountainside on her chestnut mare, with her waist length red hair trailing behind like a fiery comet and the sun expertly accentuating the hint of mushroom that is her skin, your jaw will simply drop in amazement.
Your heart starts to skip a beat as the mountain scent grows stronger and threatens to overload your senses, but just as quick it leaps into your throat the second she comes crashing to a halt in front of you.
She leaps off her horse and gives her minion a hard shove to the ground. She quickly follows that up by placing her boot on his throat and throwing a hairbrush at him. As he's reaching for the brush, she suddenly flips to hunter's mode and drops a hard punch to his stomach. Satisfied that he wasn't going to move anytime soon, she walks over to her quarry.
Damn! I hate it when she does that to me. I wish she would have a little faith in me. Jesus Christ almighty, I think she cracked a rib. Anyways, as you can see, my compadre is dressed to kill: her fiery red hair compliments the almost skin tight black leather outfit which expertly accentuates her weaponry; her lipstick and fingernail polish the bloodiest red you'll ever see in your lifetime and the brilliance of the sun being so heavily concentrated in her diamond nose stud that to focus directly on it invites your optic nerves to be fried away.
You quickly start to walk backwards because you are positively convinced that to hang around would cause a permanent change in your genetic code for decades to come. She starts to walk faster towards you and you suddenly freeze in your tracks because you inadvertently looked into her eyes and caught a glimpse of what your short future as a human being on this planet was going to look like.
Before you realize it, she has grabbed your face and the only thing you can see are those two tiny black eyes and a forked tongue lightly flicking at your cheek. Suddenly, she crinkles her nose and frowns. Pursing her lips, she gives your face a couple of hard taps, throws you a smile that causes you to wince in pain and snaps her fingers.
You discover that you can move your feet, so the second she turns her head, you split the scene. In the meantime, she's already focused on her next victim....
"Holy Shit! Oh man, I didn't do nothing! Go pick on someone else for a change!"
In a matter of moments she is on top of her minion delivering blistering slaps to his face and head. Sufficiently stunned, he offers no resistance as she grabs him by the shirt collar and jerks him to his feet. She stares deep into his eyes until the smell of human flesh brings him around.
"Stop frying my brain cells! I need those to function! Without those I am nothing but a piece of meat to you!"
Next thing I know, she draws me closer, flicks her tongue a couple of times and raises an eyebrow. I sigh heavily and reluctantly unbutton her vest and shirt. Unlike before, I only open them far enough until I see cleavage. I stare at the valley that gave me so much pleasure early on in my friendship but now only gives pain and heartache until I get a pounding headache.
I tap the left side of my neck a couple of times and tilt my head. She gives my chin just the lightest of flicks, before opening her mouth and flashing those razor sharp pearly whites of hers. I grab hold of her waist for added support and as I start to lose consciousness I can feel her readjusting her bite so as to get a better flow, and I say to myself, "She is one hot frenemy."
(c)2010 by GBMJr. All rights reserved
Monday, November 22, 2010
Monday, November 8, 2010
Excerpt From "Dandelion Tears"
Please note that this is only a rough draft so please excuse the errors in grammar and sentence structure.
Please click here for the original post that this goes to.
For the longest time, Fryja didn’t say or do anything. After she’d laid back down, she brought her hair forward to protect her eye sockets from further damage and gave thought on how she was going to get to the campsite. She could have traveled on foot once she got out from under the horse, but was unable to see her way through without her wraps. The thought of traveling blind without any help through the back country bothered her so much, that for the first time since she lost her eyes, she cried.
No sound could be heard nor were there any tears flowing. Instead, heavy waves of sadness were injected into the atmosphere, which in turn caused her immediate surroundings to dry up and shrivel away. How long this went on Fryja couldn’t say, but eventually she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder, which caused her to break her train of thought.
Instinctively reaching up to bring her hair forward, she was surprised to feel someone grab her wrists and kiss her hands. The next thing that she felt was that same person wrap their arms around her chest and with a gentle tug, pulled her out from under the horse. She then felt herself being stood up and having her arms draped across that same person’s shoulders. With a couple of jerks and a tug, she found herself being carried like a backpack.
Fryja wasn’t sure what to make of all this, but she needed to find out whether that helping hand was friend or foe. So she took a chance and blurted out the one name that she knew would be daft enough to do something like this in the first place.
“Jerry?”
“Yah.”
“Jerry! Oh my God! Put me down and let me check you out!”
Jerry put her down and turned around. With shaky hands, she ran them all over his face and body. Satisfied that it was her erstwhile confidant, she grabbed him in a huge bear hug and kissed him roughly about the face.
When she’d finished, she took his hand and asked, “Do you need anything?”
Jerry looked down at her heaving and swollen chest, and even though he desperately wanted an energy boost, he answered, “Not yet.”
“Are you sure?”
“Tonight.”
Fryja gave his cheek a gentle caress, and after her hand linger for a few extra seconds, threw him a sly smile and walked over to a small rock formation that she sensed about a minute ago. Coming to a stop some ten feet away, she turned around and snapped her fingers.
When Jerry appeared at her side a few seconds later, she said, “Find a suitable rock and walk me over to it.”
Jerry spent a few seconds scanning the formation for a suitable rock that offered both privacy and a modicum of comfort. Once he found it, he took her by the hand and brought her over to it. When they got there, Fryja tapped the rock and motioned for Jerry to take a seat.
She waited until he said, “Okay.” then moved in until her chest was a couple of inches from his face.
“Do you have an extra pair on you?”
Jerry answered by placing the spare pair of wraps in her hand. She flipped her hair back and placed them on her face. Picking up his chin, she looked deep into his eyes and asked, “Are you ready?”
He licked his lips and said, “Yes.”
“Okay, you got about fifteen minutes to play with, and you can put your hands wherever you think they’ll do you the most good. Got it?”
Jerry’s eyes lit up like a small child’s on All Hollow’s Eve. Fryja unbuttoned her vest, before opening her bra and taking them out. After spending several seconds airing them out, she took a couple of steps in and straddled his waist. Resting her arms on his shoulders, she kissed his forehead and got ready to be milked and consumed.
The one thing that incessantly drove Fryja to take unnecessary risks that often turned into monumental mistakes, like losing her eyes, was the fact that she was turned into a feeder. She had arrived at the pod in much the same way as Melanie did some two decades later: strung out on crank and giving titty fucks at five bucks a pop to feed her habit.
When she’d arrived, unconscious and sedated, the geneticists took one look at her huge set of boobs and changed directions. Without consulting anyone, they tweaked her genetic profile so that she would become another feeder for the pod, instead of the hunter that she was recruited to be.
The first inkling that Fryja had that something wasn’t quite right with her was about a couple of hours after she regained consciousness. She had just stepped out of the shower and was drying herself off in the bedroom, when a memory of a pleasurable encounter came blasting through the pharmaceutical haze that was rapidly dissipating. Several seconds later, she felt something warm and sticky running down her chest and stomach. Walking over to a wall mirror, she was horrified to see a milky substance spewing from her breasts.
After dipping her finger in for a taste and quickly spitting it out, she went nuclear. Much like Melanie did two decades later, she went on a one week rampage of destruction that left no one or nothing untouched, unbeaten or unbowed. When the dust finally settled, it was determined that Fryja was well in her right to overreact like she did.
However, because it was deemed too dangerous to attempt a genetic reversal and turn her back into a hunter from a feeder, it was decided that even though she would remain a feeder for the rest of her life, she would also be taught how to control her lactations to the point where she could be successfully reintroduced back into the pod society.
For the next month, Fryja was given intensive training on how to control her lactations, specifically, how to turn it on so as to relieve the pressure and thus lighten the load, and how keep it off when pursuing the day to day activities of pod living. When her training was finished, she was able to keep her lactating in check by keeping her temper at a slow simmer. So long as she was on an even keel with leanings towards anger, she was drier than Death Valley. If she wanted to relieve the pressure, all she had to do was think of something sensual, and more often than not, she became a torrential summer downpour.
Except for the bump in the road that was Melanie, the preceding sixty eight years were spent in blissful contentment. She went about her business, and used what she drained for the occasional bribe to take care of her special needs.
Two years ago, those bribes that were used to fulfill those special needs came back to extract their pound of flesh. One summer night, a jealous member of the Royal Entourage snuck inside her apartment and spent several hours raping and torturing her. First he tortured her by playing half hour segments of hypnotically sensuous music, before repeatedly sucking her breasts dry. In between bouts of drinking and sucking, he savagely raped her repeatedly all three ways.
He finished off his night of debauchery by taking the one thing that she cherished: her sight. He grabbed a roll of duct tape, taped up her wrists and slapped a couple of pieces across her mouth. Sitting on her chest, he then spent the next three minutes digging his thumbs into her sockets and scraping out her eyeballs.
Once he got them out, he said, “Thanks for the snack. Tell anyone about what happened and I’ll come back to finish you off.”
Popping them into his mouth, he walked out of the apartment and left Fryja drowning in a growing pool of her own blood. She would’ve died had it not been for Jerry who, unbeknownst to the rapist, was hiding underneath the bed and heard everything.
Four months later, after nursing Fryja back to health, Jerry met a similarly gruesome fate. That same member of the Royal Entourage somehow found out that Jerry was a witness to his crime, so when he found Jerry at Fryja’s apartment late one he cold cocked him and dragged him out to the backyard. He punched him a couple more times to make sure he was unconscious, then took out a scalpel and sliced out his frontal lobes and a chunk of his cerebellum.
Several months later, Fryja found herself on a planet she didn’t like, going after a person she didn’t know, having contact with a person she didn’t like, and partnered up with a lover that she’d nursed back to health with the mental capacity of a six year old, and getting chummy with the one person who could squash her like a cockroach with a snap of her fingers.
“Yeah, it just don’t get worse than…this. Oh shit, Jerry, keep your fingers right there for another thirty seconds. I’m just about ready for milking!”
Fryja had needed some intense emotional excitement in order to produce enough milk for drinking, and Jerry was able to give her what she needed. He’d unbuttoned her jeans and lowered them and her panties just enough to expose her ass and her box to the elements.
He gently and tenderly massaged her cheeks, taking extreme care not to let his fingers wander down to where they would do the most good. Even though she was sufficiently recovered from her rape of a year ago, one rule was made viciously crystal clear to Jerry: no touching of her heart shaped box. So he lightly tapped her inner thigh, which in turn told Fryja to take a half step to both sides.
The effect of Mother Nature gently rolling through her legs was instantaneous. Fryja felt an inner warmth that had been missing for quite some time, and several seconds later started lactating. Jerry waited until he saw a steady stream running from both nipples, then moved his hand to he back and pulled her closer.
Fryja stretched her arms so that Jerry could get more of her into his mouth, then rested her chin in a thinking man’s position, taking care not to dig her elbows into his shoulders. Settling down, she spent the rest of his feeding taking in the warm desert countryside and thinking about his gentle fingers massaging and probing her giant muscle knot of a body, which in turn kept her lactating far beyond the fifteen minute she gave him to use.
Less then ten seconds beyond that time limit, she felt a small wave of vomit in her mouth. After spitting out a couple of chunks, she sadly remembered that while Jerry was an adult, he still had the mental capacity of a six year old, and thus was susceptible to major bouts of confusion. Sighing hard, she touched his cheek to get his attention before tuning into his frequency.
‘My love, you can still drink as much as you want. I’m so enjoying my down time that I’m creating an extra amount of milk for you to drink. Just let me know when you’re finished, so that we can continue on our mission. Okay?’
Jerry’s eyes again lit up and he attacked her boobs with a ferocity that caught her a little by surprise. She spent the rest of his feeding caressing his head and bathing his conscience with heartfelt words of love. When he’d finally had his fill, he wiped the saliva from them, before putting her back to the way she was. Beaming with satisfaction, he sat down, folded his hands and waited for her to tell him what was next.
Fryja took a handful of hair, wrapped it around her hand and began wiping the leftover milk from his face. Smiling, she said to him, “You really are a sloppy eater.”
The shit eatin’ grin that he flashed told her that once again he was traveling on another plane in the solar system. Sighing, she kissed his forehead and whispered in his ear, “I love you more than you could possible imagine or comprehend, and I don’t know what I’ll do if you don’t make it out of here with me.”
(c) 2010 by GBMJr. All rights reserved
Please click here for the original post that this goes to.
For the longest time, Fryja didn’t say or do anything. After she’d laid back down, she brought her hair forward to protect her eye sockets from further damage and gave thought on how she was going to get to the campsite. She could have traveled on foot once she got out from under the horse, but was unable to see her way through without her wraps. The thought of traveling blind without any help through the back country bothered her so much, that for the first time since she lost her eyes, she cried.
No sound could be heard nor were there any tears flowing. Instead, heavy waves of sadness were injected into the atmosphere, which in turn caused her immediate surroundings to dry up and shrivel away. How long this went on Fryja couldn’t say, but eventually she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder, which caused her to break her train of thought.
Instinctively reaching up to bring her hair forward, she was surprised to feel someone grab her wrists and kiss her hands. The next thing that she felt was that same person wrap their arms around her chest and with a gentle tug, pulled her out from under the horse. She then felt herself being stood up and having her arms draped across that same person’s shoulders. With a couple of jerks and a tug, she found herself being carried like a backpack.
Fryja wasn’t sure what to make of all this, but she needed to find out whether that helping hand was friend or foe. So she took a chance and blurted out the one name that she knew would be daft enough to do something like this in the first place.
“Jerry?”
“Yah.”
“Jerry! Oh my God! Put me down and let me check you out!”
Jerry put her down and turned around. With shaky hands, she ran them all over his face and body. Satisfied that it was her erstwhile confidant, she grabbed him in a huge bear hug and kissed him roughly about the face.
When she’d finished, she took his hand and asked, “Do you need anything?”
Jerry looked down at her heaving and swollen chest, and even though he desperately wanted an energy boost, he answered, “Not yet.”
“Are you sure?”
“Tonight.”
Fryja gave his cheek a gentle caress, and after her hand linger for a few extra seconds, threw him a sly smile and walked over to a small rock formation that she sensed about a minute ago. Coming to a stop some ten feet away, she turned around and snapped her fingers.
When Jerry appeared at her side a few seconds later, she said, “Find a suitable rock and walk me over to it.”
Jerry spent a few seconds scanning the formation for a suitable rock that offered both privacy and a modicum of comfort. Once he found it, he took her by the hand and brought her over to it. When they got there, Fryja tapped the rock and motioned for Jerry to take a seat.
She waited until he said, “Okay.” then moved in until her chest was a couple of inches from his face.
“Do you have an extra pair on you?”
Jerry answered by placing the spare pair of wraps in her hand. She flipped her hair back and placed them on her face. Picking up his chin, she looked deep into his eyes and asked, “Are you ready?”
He licked his lips and said, “Yes.”
“Okay, you got about fifteen minutes to play with, and you can put your hands wherever you think they’ll do you the most good. Got it?”
Jerry’s eyes lit up like a small child’s on All Hollow’s Eve. Fryja unbuttoned her vest, before opening her bra and taking them out. After spending several seconds airing them out, she took a couple of steps in and straddled his waist. Resting her arms on his shoulders, she kissed his forehead and got ready to be milked and consumed.
The one thing that incessantly drove Fryja to take unnecessary risks that often turned into monumental mistakes, like losing her eyes, was the fact that she was turned into a feeder. She had arrived at the pod in much the same way as Melanie did some two decades later: strung out on crank and giving titty fucks at five bucks a pop to feed her habit.
When she’d arrived, unconscious and sedated, the geneticists took one look at her huge set of boobs and changed directions. Without consulting anyone, they tweaked her genetic profile so that she would become another feeder for the pod, instead of the hunter that she was recruited to be.
The first inkling that Fryja had that something wasn’t quite right with her was about a couple of hours after she regained consciousness. She had just stepped out of the shower and was drying herself off in the bedroom, when a memory of a pleasurable encounter came blasting through the pharmaceutical haze that was rapidly dissipating. Several seconds later, she felt something warm and sticky running down her chest and stomach. Walking over to a wall mirror, she was horrified to see a milky substance spewing from her breasts.
After dipping her finger in for a taste and quickly spitting it out, she went nuclear. Much like Melanie did two decades later, she went on a one week rampage of destruction that left no one or nothing untouched, unbeaten or unbowed. When the dust finally settled, it was determined that Fryja was well in her right to overreact like she did.
However, because it was deemed too dangerous to attempt a genetic reversal and turn her back into a hunter from a feeder, it was decided that even though she would remain a feeder for the rest of her life, she would also be taught how to control her lactations to the point where she could be successfully reintroduced back into the pod society.
For the next month, Fryja was given intensive training on how to control her lactations, specifically, how to turn it on so as to relieve the pressure and thus lighten the load, and how keep it off when pursuing the day to day activities of pod living. When her training was finished, she was able to keep her lactating in check by keeping her temper at a slow simmer. So long as she was on an even keel with leanings towards anger, she was drier than Death Valley. If she wanted to relieve the pressure, all she had to do was think of something sensual, and more often than not, she became a torrential summer downpour.
Except for the bump in the road that was Melanie, the preceding sixty eight years were spent in blissful contentment. She went about her business, and used what she drained for the occasional bribe to take care of her special needs.
Two years ago, those bribes that were used to fulfill those special needs came back to extract their pound of flesh. One summer night, a jealous member of the Royal Entourage snuck inside her apartment and spent several hours raping and torturing her. First he tortured her by playing half hour segments of hypnotically sensuous music, before repeatedly sucking her breasts dry. In between bouts of drinking and sucking, he savagely raped her repeatedly all three ways.
He finished off his night of debauchery by taking the one thing that she cherished: her sight. He grabbed a roll of duct tape, taped up her wrists and slapped a couple of pieces across her mouth. Sitting on her chest, he then spent the next three minutes digging his thumbs into her sockets and scraping out her eyeballs.
Once he got them out, he said, “Thanks for the snack. Tell anyone about what happened and I’ll come back to finish you off.”
Popping them into his mouth, he walked out of the apartment and left Fryja drowning in a growing pool of her own blood. She would’ve died had it not been for Jerry who, unbeknownst to the rapist, was hiding underneath the bed and heard everything.
Four months later, after nursing Fryja back to health, Jerry met a similarly gruesome fate. That same member of the Royal Entourage somehow found out that Jerry was a witness to his crime, so when he found Jerry at Fryja’s apartment late one he cold cocked him and dragged him out to the backyard. He punched him a couple more times to make sure he was unconscious, then took out a scalpel and sliced out his frontal lobes and a chunk of his cerebellum.
Several months later, Fryja found herself on a planet she didn’t like, going after a person she didn’t know, having contact with a person she didn’t like, and partnered up with a lover that she’d nursed back to health with the mental capacity of a six year old, and getting chummy with the one person who could squash her like a cockroach with a snap of her fingers.
“Yeah, it just don’t get worse than…this. Oh shit, Jerry, keep your fingers right there for another thirty seconds. I’m just about ready for milking!”
Fryja had needed some intense emotional excitement in order to produce enough milk for drinking, and Jerry was able to give her what she needed. He’d unbuttoned her jeans and lowered them and her panties just enough to expose her ass and her box to the elements.
He gently and tenderly massaged her cheeks, taking extreme care not to let his fingers wander down to where they would do the most good. Even though she was sufficiently recovered from her rape of a year ago, one rule was made viciously crystal clear to Jerry: no touching of her heart shaped box. So he lightly tapped her inner thigh, which in turn told Fryja to take a half step to both sides.
The effect of Mother Nature gently rolling through her legs was instantaneous. Fryja felt an inner warmth that had been missing for quite some time, and several seconds later started lactating. Jerry waited until he saw a steady stream running from both nipples, then moved his hand to he back and pulled her closer.
Fryja stretched her arms so that Jerry could get more of her into his mouth, then rested her chin in a thinking man’s position, taking care not to dig her elbows into his shoulders. Settling down, she spent the rest of his feeding taking in the warm desert countryside and thinking about his gentle fingers massaging and probing her giant muscle knot of a body, which in turn kept her lactating far beyond the fifteen minute she gave him to use.
Less then ten seconds beyond that time limit, she felt a small wave of vomit in her mouth. After spitting out a couple of chunks, she sadly remembered that while Jerry was an adult, he still had the mental capacity of a six year old, and thus was susceptible to major bouts of confusion. Sighing hard, she touched his cheek to get his attention before tuning into his frequency.
‘My love, you can still drink as much as you want. I’m so enjoying my down time that I’m creating an extra amount of milk for you to drink. Just let me know when you’re finished, so that we can continue on our mission. Okay?’
Jerry’s eyes again lit up and he attacked her boobs with a ferocity that caught her a little by surprise. She spent the rest of his feeding caressing his head and bathing his conscience with heartfelt words of love. When he’d finally had his fill, he wiped the saliva from them, before putting her back to the way she was. Beaming with satisfaction, he sat down, folded his hands and waited for her to tell him what was next.
Fryja took a handful of hair, wrapped it around her hand and began wiping the leftover milk from his face. Smiling, she said to him, “You really are a sloppy eater.”
The shit eatin’ grin that he flashed told her that once again he was traveling on another plane in the solar system. Sighing, she kissed his forehead and whispered in his ear, “I love you more than you could possible imagine or comprehend, and I don’t know what I’ll do if you don’t make it out of here with me.”
(c) 2010 by GBMJr. All rights reserved
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Friday, October 22, 2010
A Short Story
Isiah redirected his swing the second he caught sight of the tiny little sparrow landing on the tree spike and his momentum sent him tumbling head over heels where he promptly landed on his back. Ignoring the pain, he shot straight up and did a complete three sixty looking for her.
With nothing jumping out save the mournful rustling of the trees, Isiah crawled over to the tree to where the tiny little sparrow was resting. Clearing away a small pile of leaves, he sat down in front of the sparrow and cleared his throat to get its attention.
"Why art thou's mistress coming here? I hath not trespassed on her lands. Please little sparrow, tell thou's mistress that I am but a loyal subject without any aspirations of deviltry to speak of."
Before the tiny little sparrow could respond, the ground shook and Isiah suddenly found himself in the middle of a stampede of wild horses. Cowering in fear, he also held onto the tree so that he might survive the terrible onslaught. When the pounding of the hooves finally faded away, Isiah was left with a fantastic headache an a inability to stop his screaming.
Unable to stop his screaming and with the salty taste of blood in his mouth, Isiah could only watch as the tiny little sparrow took flight and came to land on his cheek. Digging his claws into Isiah's chin, the tiny little sparrow took a couple of sniffs, then dipped its beak in and began drinking his fill.
Exactly one minute later, the little sparrow finished its drink, ruffled its feathers like it was trying to get rid of a bad taste, then spread its wings and took flight to the heavens.
Seconds later, a thunderous boom roared through the forest, stripping the tree branches clean and laying wasted to the surrounding vegetation. When it reached Isiah it seemed to pause for a moment, as if it was unsure whether or not it should do the same thing. In the end, it left behind a small protective bubble that encased Isiah from head to toe.
Still unable to stop screaming, Isiah again watched in horror as the thunderous boom continued to lay wasted and obliterate the surrounding forest of all vegetation and animal life in all of is gruesome glory. Suddenly, everything went supernova and the force of the explosion blew Isiah from the tree and sent him flying through the forest.
A pile of freshly harvested pine saplings mercifully brought both his journey and his screaming to an abrupt halt. Slowly turning onto his stomach, Isiah inhaled the clean piny aroma and wondered what was going to happen next.
He didn't have too long of a wait as everything in his field of vision once again went supernova. He started to scream again from the intense pain of the blinding light, but an invisible hand clamped his mouth and turned him over. He struggled against the hand but quickly stopped when he saw the fiery orange eyes and the blackened snakes of the one entity he feared the most.
Kenya.
A raven haired beauty with a complexion that was darker than a starless night, Isiah recoiled in fear when she leaned in and began to flick her snake-like tongue around his face so as to full embrace his scent.
When she'd finished some thirty seconds later, she released her grip and spoke in a tone that hid how truly upset she was.
"Isiah, why are you harvesting in my forest without my permission?"
Swallowing hard, he answered, "Milady, thou art wrong about thou's subject harvesting without permission. Thy subject was simply cutting wood for thy family."
"Yes, but you were cutting live wood. Their mournful cries of pain caused me such sorrow that I immediately set out to find that disloyal subject who was hurting my beloved trees."
"But milady, I--"
"Silence! You were supposed to only cut and gather wood that was bereft of life, not cut and gather wood that was still alive."
"But--"
"Silence! For your wanton destruction of a living thing and for destroying my beloved forest's inner chi, you shall pay the ultimate price."
Kenya pulled Isiah upright and held him in place until his feet were encompassed by Mother Earth. She then took a couple of steps back, snapped her fingers and in that very instant, Isiah realized to the horror of the rest of his short human life, what that ultimate punishment was going to be.
As the final batch of leaves covered Isiah's face and forever snuffed out the last human characteristic he would ever have, Kenya took a long hard look at the gnarly looking tree and smiled.
She smiled because no sooner than Isiah finally became one with Mother Earth, a family of woodpeckers came to roost and began creating a new home for not only themselves, but for their relatives as well.
Satisfied that the forest's inner chi was restored back to health, Kenya gave the little sparrow a light kiss on the beak and sending it on its way, before disappearing into the mist to become one with the forest's chi again.
And perhaps, become one with herself.
(c) 2010 by GBMJr. All rights reserved.
With nothing jumping out save the mournful rustling of the trees, Isiah crawled over to the tree to where the tiny little sparrow was resting. Clearing away a small pile of leaves, he sat down in front of the sparrow and cleared his throat to get its attention.
"Why art thou's mistress coming here? I hath not trespassed on her lands. Please little sparrow, tell thou's mistress that I am but a loyal subject without any aspirations of deviltry to speak of."
Before the tiny little sparrow could respond, the ground shook and Isiah suddenly found himself in the middle of a stampede of wild horses. Cowering in fear, he also held onto the tree so that he might survive the terrible onslaught. When the pounding of the hooves finally faded away, Isiah was left with a fantastic headache an a inability to stop his screaming.
Unable to stop his screaming and with the salty taste of blood in his mouth, Isiah could only watch as the tiny little sparrow took flight and came to land on his cheek. Digging his claws into Isiah's chin, the tiny little sparrow took a couple of sniffs, then dipped its beak in and began drinking his fill.
Exactly one minute later, the little sparrow finished its drink, ruffled its feathers like it was trying to get rid of a bad taste, then spread its wings and took flight to the heavens.
Seconds later, a thunderous boom roared through the forest, stripping the tree branches clean and laying wasted to the surrounding vegetation. When it reached Isiah it seemed to pause for a moment, as if it was unsure whether or not it should do the same thing. In the end, it left behind a small protective bubble that encased Isiah from head to toe.
Still unable to stop screaming, Isiah again watched in horror as the thunderous boom continued to lay wasted and obliterate the surrounding forest of all vegetation and animal life in all of is gruesome glory. Suddenly, everything went supernova and the force of the explosion blew Isiah from the tree and sent him flying through the forest.
A pile of freshly harvested pine saplings mercifully brought both his journey and his screaming to an abrupt halt. Slowly turning onto his stomach, Isiah inhaled the clean piny aroma and wondered what was going to happen next.
He didn't have too long of a wait as everything in his field of vision once again went supernova. He started to scream again from the intense pain of the blinding light, but an invisible hand clamped his mouth and turned him over. He struggled against the hand but quickly stopped when he saw the fiery orange eyes and the blackened snakes of the one entity he feared the most.
Kenya.
A raven haired beauty with a complexion that was darker than a starless night, Isiah recoiled in fear when she leaned in and began to flick her snake-like tongue around his face so as to full embrace his scent.
When she'd finished some thirty seconds later, she released her grip and spoke in a tone that hid how truly upset she was.
"Isiah, why are you harvesting in my forest without my permission?"
Swallowing hard, he answered, "Milady, thou art wrong about thou's subject harvesting without permission. Thy subject was simply cutting wood for thy family."
"Yes, but you were cutting live wood. Their mournful cries of pain caused me such sorrow that I immediately set out to find that disloyal subject who was hurting my beloved trees."
"But milady, I--"
"Silence! You were supposed to only cut and gather wood that was bereft of life, not cut and gather wood that was still alive."
"But--"
"Silence! For your wanton destruction of a living thing and for destroying my beloved forest's inner chi, you shall pay the ultimate price."
Kenya pulled Isiah upright and held him in place until his feet were encompassed by Mother Earth. She then took a couple of steps back, snapped her fingers and in that very instant, Isiah realized to the horror of the rest of his short human life, what that ultimate punishment was going to be.
As the final batch of leaves covered Isiah's face and forever snuffed out the last human characteristic he would ever have, Kenya took a long hard look at the gnarly looking tree and smiled.
She smiled because no sooner than Isiah finally became one with Mother Earth, a family of woodpeckers came to roost and began creating a new home for not only themselves, but for their relatives as well.
Satisfied that the forest's inner chi was restored back to health, Kenya gave the little sparrow a light kiss on the beak and sending it on its way, before disappearing into the mist to become one with the forest's chi again.
And perhaps, become one with herself.
(c) 2010 by GBMJr. All rights reserved.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Excerpt From "Dandelion Tears"
Click here for the post that this one is refering to.
"Entre," answered Melanie as she quickly stuck the t-shirts behind her back.
Jon stepped in and slowly walked to the couch and took a seat next to Melanie. Scratching his head with the towel, he asked, "Was that...Spanish I heard you speak just now?"
"Yes. I thought you were one of my servants. They were originally from South America and even some two hundred years later, they still don't speak a word of English. Can understand it well enough if need be, but they choose to converse exclusively in their native tongue. So I give them a little stability by talking to them in the same tongue as well."
"Pretty brutal if you ask me."
"How so?"
Jon decided not to answer her question, simply because he didn't want to get into another argument. Instead, he gave her knee a gentle squeeze and switched topics. "Mel, how many will be coming to the house tonight?"
Melanie gave his hand a squeeze, before removing it and getting up from the couch. Taking a seat on his lap, she gave his cheek a soft kiss and said, "I would have to say about four. No, wait, that isn't right. Hang on a second."
She snapped her fingers and one of the vixens instantly appeared at her side. The vixen leaned over and whispered something in her ear, before disappearing the same way she arrived. Standing up, Melanie took his hand and gave his fingers a light kiss and a soft suck. When she'd finished, she wiped the trail of blood from her lips and said, "There will be at least eight. Two originals and six repros?"
Flexing his hand for a moment, he asked, "Repros?"
"Reproductions." Melanie paused for a moment as she briefly glanced at the wall clock. "We haven't much time before they show up, so I need you to get dressed posthaste, because I also need to give you a crash course in defending yourself."
"What, I can defend myself just as good as anybody else."
"In the traditional sense, yes. In my world, you need help."
Jon sighed, and said, "Fine, so I need help."
"That you do. In the meantime, get dressed and make sure you match up what you're wearing with what I got on."
"How am I gonna match up with what you got on? I mean, Mel, what you got on isn't exactly from this planet. This galaxy maybe, but not from this planet."
"I know that. Just study what I'm wearing and find something that's equivalent. Got it?"
Jon stood up and ran his hands over the upper half of her body. He didn't make contact but simply got them close enough for Melanie to feel the energy and passion that he was exuding. Once he finished, he leaned in and did the same thing with his mouth along the outside of her face, before stopping at her right ear.
Giving it a light kiss, he whispered, "You're in that hunter's mode from when we were dating, my love. I can taste the intoxicating scent pouring out your body and I do believe that my soul is aching to be comforted by yours."
Melanie looked at Jon and saw in his eyes the love and passion from those early years reignited and burning with an intensity that she long though extinguished. Caressing his cheek, she didn't say a word, but simply took a half dozen steps forward, turned and gave him a look that told him in no uncertain terms that it was time to kick some major league ass.
>(c) 2010 by GBMJr. All rights reserved
"Entre," answered Melanie as she quickly stuck the t-shirts behind her back.
Jon stepped in and slowly walked to the couch and took a seat next to Melanie. Scratching his head with the towel, he asked, "Was that...Spanish I heard you speak just now?"
"Yes. I thought you were one of my servants. They were originally from South America and even some two hundred years later, they still don't speak a word of English. Can understand it well enough if need be, but they choose to converse exclusively in their native tongue. So I give them a little stability by talking to them in the same tongue as well."
"Pretty brutal if you ask me."
"How so?"
Jon decided not to answer her question, simply because he didn't want to get into another argument. Instead, he gave her knee a gentle squeeze and switched topics. "Mel, how many will be coming to the house tonight?"
Melanie gave his hand a squeeze, before removing it and getting up from the couch. Taking a seat on his lap, she gave his cheek a soft kiss and said, "I would have to say about four. No, wait, that isn't right. Hang on a second."
She snapped her fingers and one of the vixens instantly appeared at her side. The vixen leaned over and whispered something in her ear, before disappearing the same way she arrived. Standing up, Melanie took his hand and gave his fingers a light kiss and a soft suck. When she'd finished, she wiped the trail of blood from her lips and said, "There will be at least eight. Two originals and six repros?"
Flexing his hand for a moment, he asked, "Repros?"
"Reproductions." Melanie paused for a moment as she briefly glanced at the wall clock. "We haven't much time before they show up, so I need you to get dressed posthaste, because I also need to give you a crash course in defending yourself."
"What, I can defend myself just as good as anybody else."
"In the traditional sense, yes. In my world, you need help."
Jon sighed, and said, "Fine, so I need help."
"That you do. In the meantime, get dressed and make sure you match up what you're wearing with what I got on."
"How am I gonna match up with what you got on? I mean, Mel, what you got on isn't exactly from this planet. This galaxy maybe, but not from this planet."
"I know that. Just study what I'm wearing and find something that's equivalent. Got it?"
Jon stood up and ran his hands over the upper half of her body. He didn't make contact but simply got them close enough for Melanie to feel the energy and passion that he was exuding. Once he finished, he leaned in and did the same thing with his mouth along the outside of her face, before stopping at her right ear.
Giving it a light kiss, he whispered, "You're in that hunter's mode from when we were dating, my love. I can taste the intoxicating scent pouring out your body and I do believe that my soul is aching to be comforted by yours."
Melanie looked at Jon and saw in his eyes the love and passion from those early years reignited and burning with an intensity that she long though extinguished. Caressing his cheek, she didn't say a word, but simply took a half dozen steps forward, turned and gave him a look that told him in no uncertain terms that it was time to kick some major league ass.
>(c) 2010 by GBMJr. All rights reserved
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
A Pre-Written Insult
click here for the post that this insult is referring to.
WHAT I REALLY SHOULD HAVE DONE WAS TO TAKE THIS PIECE OF GAR-BAGE, PUT IT INTO A BROWN PAPER SACK, TIE IT WITH TWINE, PUT IT IN A BOX AND DUCT TAPE IT SHUT AND WRITE ON IT, "DON'T OPEN UNTIL YOU LEARN HOW TO WRITE!"
THEN GIVE MYSELF A MAJOR BITCH BEATDOWN FOR WRITING THIS SLOP TO BEGIN WITH.
WHAT I REALLY SHOULD HAVE DONE WAS TO TAKE THIS PIECE OF GAR-BAGE, PUT IT INTO A BROWN PAPER SACK, TIE IT WITH TWINE, PUT IT IN A BOX AND DUCT TAPE IT SHUT AND WRITE ON IT, "DON'T OPEN UNTIL YOU LEARN HOW TO WRITE!"
THEN GIVE MYSELF A MAJOR BITCH BEATDOWN FOR WRITING THIS SLOP TO BEGIN WITH.
Friday, October 1, 2010
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
An Excerpt from "Image"
First, a little background dump leading up to the exceprt: Alayna (an escapee from Purgatory) had been rescued by the Archangel Michael in order to help her get out of her current predicament, which was helping Kevin ruin Keisha's (who is his crush) reputation. Alayna, Michael and Ralphie (Archangel Raphael) are at Keisha's condo to take care of Kevin and to make things right with Keisha. In this excerpt, we pick up the action where Alanya is returning Keisha's body back to her.
Alayna counted to three and dropped straight back. Like planned, it was a seamless fit. However, considering it was being done for the third time in less than twenty-four hours, there were a few bumps along the way. For one thing, Alayna had to fight a strong urge to throw up. Seems that Keisha was pumped so full of drugs that she was starting to experience a major backlash to them. For another, while she was trying to reconnect the body to the head, Keisha's body was resisting rather strongly the original connection. She was finally able to do the reconnect when she promised the body that she would indeed remain a distant part of Keisha's life.
The last bump in the road was the toughest one to take because no sooner than the transition was completed, Alayna was inexplicably shoved off the bed. Pulling herself up to her knees, she threw a questioning look at Michael, who in turn threw one at the sinner standing next to the bed. She leaned over, lifted an eyelid and gazed into the eye for a few seconds. Not sure what kind of answer to give but knowing she had to give something, she simply arched an eyebrow.
Slamming her hands down on the bed, Alayna stood up and got herself ready for action. She fluffed her hair and once again a surprised look came over Michael as over one dozen different types of lethal snakes suddenly appeared, with fangs bared and oozing venom. The surprised look quickly changed to horror because the next thing he saw, which caused him to scramble to the other side of the room, was one dozen miniature versions of Mother Nature's most lethal four legged animals erupting from her collars and sleeves, with teeth bared and dripping with blood.
Narrowing her eyes, she has such a look of pure evil spread across her face that Michael reflexively reached for his pendant of symbols while the sinner simply gave her a rictus grin in approval. Giving Keisha one last mournful look, Alayna put her game face back on and left the bedroom to take care of business.
After spending the last fifteen minutes absorbing phantom body shots from a guy blowing a trumpet and having his mind probe by another who stepped straight out of Fangoria magazine, Kevin's state of being was resting somewhere between the safe concrete walls of today and the volatile sandpit of the future.
To say that Kevin was becoming unglued would be an understatement. No longer sure of what he was seeing was actually real, he quickly retreated into the confines of his subconscious. For all intents and purposes, he was for the moment, on life support. However, that was about to change as Alayna announced her presence and abruptly brought him back to the present.
After she'd left the bedroom, Alayna made a detour to the second sinner and did a brief ten second mind probe. Smiling, a black mamba lashed out and sank its fangs deep into the man's neck. She caressed the man's cheek while she waited for the mamba to drain the bitter nectar out of one of the chosen damned souls of Hell.
Once it finished, she gave the man the briefest of kisses, threw Michael a look that burned a hole through the bedroom wall, before taking off to the living room via the front door. At the entrance way, she fled her wrist and sent a one thousand volt bolt of fetid electricity blasting through the living room. It missed Ralphie by mere inches but nailed Kevin square on the forehead.
Kevin felt himself being forcibly ejected from the safe confines of his self-conscious and being dragged kicking and screaming back to the harsh reality of the present. When he opened his eyes, the first thing that he saw was the soft golden aura of Ralphie, and that brought a weak smile to his lips. The second thing he saw, which curdled his blood and snapped his vocal cords in two, was Alayna in all of her hellacious glory.
Voicing a scream that no one alive heard, Kevin watched as Alayna strolled over to the lounge chair, sat down and straddled his waist in a kneeling position. Closing his mouth for him, she then took out a straight edge razor and with two flicks of the wrist, cut off his ears. Within seconds, the both of them were drenched from head to toe with blood.
Licking her lips, she stretched out her arms and hands before leaning back until she was eye to eye with Ralphie. Holding her gaze steady, she let loose with a high operatic wail that not only froze both archangels where they were, but unleashed her entire menagerie and the two remaining sinners. Kevin watched in stomach churning horror as not only was Alayna licked clean but so was he as well.
Suddenly, as if on an unseen signal, the menagerie and the sinners withdrew, leaving Alayna radiating pure wholesome evil with just a hint of jasmine, and Kevin wishing he was dead. Sitting back up, Alayna ran her hands through her hair until she found her black mamba. Stroking its chin calmed her down enough so that she could refocus on the end result: her solitude.
Kevin watched her stroke the snake and wondered what was going to happen to him next. He didn't have too long of a wait as he suddenly felt Alayna's empty eyes burn a hole straight into his cerebellum while her voice intensified the burning to an unparalleled level of pain.
In a voice that was both sultry and chilling, she said, "I know that Hue would've never given me up on purpose. How the hell did you find out where I was?"
Kevin tried to speak, but the only thing they came out was a small spurt a blood.
"You can't physically speak."
Kevin hesitated in answering, but seeing how he really had no choice in the matter, in his mind he said, "He was doing a weeklong fuckfest with a friend of mine and let slip that he and this woman were on the run from the law."
"What?" said Alayna, who amped up her rage by siccing a rabid beaver on him.
Kevin screamed in pain and sprayed blood down his chest. "Alright! I was working a robbery scam with a friend of mine! She pumped them up with drugs, got the info about you and turned him in! Far as I know, he's somewhere sucking up the sulfur!"
Alayna grabbed his face and began squeezing hard enough to make his teeth out of his mouth. As each one started protruding through the lips, a ravenous chipmunk would run down her arm and pulled the tooth out. After about a minute of this, in which he lost about a dozen teeth, Kevin screamed, "No more! No more! Please, I beg of you!"
Smiling, she stopped squeezing and called off the chipmunk. Turning up the heat, she said, "I do believe that your brain is slowly frying to a crisp. So, before it becomes a meal for one of my pets and thus you becoming a nonfunctioning unit, why did you decide to bother me with your pathetic little plan of revenge in a futile attempt to ruin an innocent person’s life?"
Kevin began hemming and hawing, but when Alayna had a weasel start to chew on one of his fingers, he cried, "Please, make it stop chewing my finger!"
"No."
"Oh God, the pain!" he cried. Taking a moment to collect his thoughts, the words soon began pouring out like a cut on hemophiliac. "I was in love with Keisha but she wouldn't even give me the time of day! I figured that if I could somehow make her see the error of her ways, she would have to come crawling back to me!"
"By ruining her reputation?"
"It seemed like a good idea at the time! I figured I would her reputation in shreds and, oh God, it's starting to chew on another finger! I'm begging you, make it stop!"
"You aren't done yet,” she said in a tone that chilled even the sinner standing guard over Kevin.
"Shit!" said Kevin, who spat out more blood, before going back to his story. "With me being the only one who would defend her against the lies and innuendos, she would see me as her knight in shining armor!"
"And you involved me because?"
"Oh God, it's doing another finger!! Umm..." At this point, Kevin was rapidly losing consciousness. Reluctantly, she called off the weasel and slapped him back to reality.
"Wh... what? Umm... I got you involved because I needed someone who could destroy a person with a clear conscience!"
"Threatening me and my children, was that part of the plan as well? Tell the truth, because you know the truth will set you free."
"It... it will?"
"Of course."
Kevin got no further than saying, "Yes." before Alayna detonated. Raising her arms, she let loose with two monster lightning bolts that literally blew the roof off a condo.
Grabbing Kevin by his shirt, she brought him closer until they were touching noses. Giving him one last passionate kiss, she said very quietly, "It sucks to be you."
With that statement, her body exploded with life as the menagerie came screaming down her arms to attack and devour Kevin. Alayna held him in place and watched with delight as her loved ones reduced him skin tissue by skin tissue, body part by body part, and finally organ by organ, until there was nothing left to him except the grease spot that was coating the shirt that she was still holding.
Carefully placing the shirt on the chair, she got up and snapped her fingers. Instantly her menagerie got to cleaning her off and as each one finished, she gave it a kiss as it disappeared back into either her hair or the outfit. When all was said and done, she snapped her fingers again, and became engulfed in a black sulfuric cloud of foulness that made everyone in the condo become sick to their stomach.
When the smoke cleared, Alayna was dressed in the clothes that she was wearing on the first day here: a soft baby blue sweater with a plunging neckline and a soft green blouse with a semi-plunging neckline, sky blue blue jeans and a pair of cowboy boots. Walking over to Ralphie, she gave him a kiss on the cheek and said, "Thanks." before giving his cheek a lingering touch as she casually strolled down the hallway to the bedroom.
Entering the bedroom, she saw that Keisha was still asleep, the female sinner standing guard and Michael reading a book. Bending over to read the spine, she said, "Cute. You're reading The Divine Comedy. Brushing up on the nine circles or on the eight levels?"
Michael closed the book and said, "I like reading non-fiction."
Alayna gave him a smile and a touché gesture. "Anyways, I want to thank you for all of yours and Ralphie's help today. I don't know how I can repay the both of you for this, other than to say that so long as I’m left alone by the human race, I will be on my best behavior. Now, I really do have to fix Keisha's life and get her back to what she was before I stupidly got in the way."
Michael smiled and waved the sinner out of the room. Turning to Alayna, he said with great sincerity, "You really are a unique individual. Remind me never to get on your bad side. And speaking of bad side, I really am sorry for what I did to you last night."
Alayna walked over and gave him a brief kiss on the lips. "I know you are, and I really do appreciate the heartfelt apology. Please, don't go beating yourself over what you did. It does take two to tango, and quite frankly, it's been at least a couple of decades since I got any, and it was well worth the wait. Take care of yourself and be sure to stop by to visit from time to time. Never know what you might get when you do.
Alayna counted to three and dropped straight back. Like planned, it was a seamless fit. However, considering it was being done for the third time in less than twenty-four hours, there were a few bumps along the way. For one thing, Alayna had to fight a strong urge to throw up. Seems that Keisha was pumped so full of drugs that she was starting to experience a major backlash to them. For another, while she was trying to reconnect the body to the head, Keisha's body was resisting rather strongly the original connection. She was finally able to do the reconnect when she promised the body that she would indeed remain a distant part of Keisha's life.
The last bump in the road was the toughest one to take because no sooner than the transition was completed, Alayna was inexplicably shoved off the bed. Pulling herself up to her knees, she threw a questioning look at Michael, who in turn threw one at the sinner standing next to the bed. She leaned over, lifted an eyelid and gazed into the eye for a few seconds. Not sure what kind of answer to give but knowing she had to give something, she simply arched an eyebrow.
Slamming her hands down on the bed, Alayna stood up and got herself ready for action. She fluffed her hair and once again a surprised look came over Michael as over one dozen different types of lethal snakes suddenly appeared, with fangs bared and oozing venom. The surprised look quickly changed to horror because the next thing he saw, which caused him to scramble to the other side of the room, was one dozen miniature versions of Mother Nature's most lethal four legged animals erupting from her collars and sleeves, with teeth bared and dripping with blood.
Narrowing her eyes, she has such a look of pure evil spread across her face that Michael reflexively reached for his pendant of symbols while the sinner simply gave her a rictus grin in approval. Giving Keisha one last mournful look, Alayna put her game face back on and left the bedroom to take care of business.
After spending the last fifteen minutes absorbing phantom body shots from a guy blowing a trumpet and having his mind probe by another who stepped straight out of Fangoria magazine, Kevin's state of being was resting somewhere between the safe concrete walls of today and the volatile sandpit of the future.
To say that Kevin was becoming unglued would be an understatement. No longer sure of what he was seeing was actually real, he quickly retreated into the confines of his subconscious. For all intents and purposes, he was for the moment, on life support. However, that was about to change as Alayna announced her presence and abruptly brought him back to the present.
After she'd left the bedroom, Alayna made a detour to the second sinner and did a brief ten second mind probe. Smiling, a black mamba lashed out and sank its fangs deep into the man's neck. She caressed the man's cheek while she waited for the mamba to drain the bitter nectar out of one of the chosen damned souls of Hell.
Once it finished, she gave the man the briefest of kisses, threw Michael a look that burned a hole through the bedroom wall, before taking off to the living room via the front door. At the entrance way, she fled her wrist and sent a one thousand volt bolt of fetid electricity blasting through the living room. It missed Ralphie by mere inches but nailed Kevin square on the forehead.
Kevin felt himself being forcibly ejected from the safe confines of his self-conscious and being dragged kicking and screaming back to the harsh reality of the present. When he opened his eyes, the first thing that he saw was the soft golden aura of Ralphie, and that brought a weak smile to his lips. The second thing he saw, which curdled his blood and snapped his vocal cords in two, was Alayna in all of her hellacious glory.
Voicing a scream that no one alive heard, Kevin watched as Alayna strolled over to the lounge chair, sat down and straddled his waist in a kneeling position. Closing his mouth for him, she then took out a straight edge razor and with two flicks of the wrist, cut off his ears. Within seconds, the both of them were drenched from head to toe with blood.
Licking her lips, she stretched out her arms and hands before leaning back until she was eye to eye with Ralphie. Holding her gaze steady, she let loose with a high operatic wail that not only froze both archangels where they were, but unleashed her entire menagerie and the two remaining sinners. Kevin watched in stomach churning horror as not only was Alayna licked clean but so was he as well.
Suddenly, as if on an unseen signal, the menagerie and the sinners withdrew, leaving Alayna radiating pure wholesome evil with just a hint of jasmine, and Kevin wishing he was dead. Sitting back up, Alayna ran her hands through her hair until she found her black mamba. Stroking its chin calmed her down enough so that she could refocus on the end result: her solitude.
Kevin watched her stroke the snake and wondered what was going to happen to him next. He didn't have too long of a wait as he suddenly felt Alayna's empty eyes burn a hole straight into his cerebellum while her voice intensified the burning to an unparalleled level of pain.
In a voice that was both sultry and chilling, she said, "I know that Hue would've never given me up on purpose. How the hell did you find out where I was?"
Kevin tried to speak, but the only thing they came out was a small spurt a blood.
"You can't physically speak."
Kevin hesitated in answering, but seeing how he really had no choice in the matter, in his mind he said, "He was doing a weeklong fuckfest with a friend of mine and let slip that he and this woman were on the run from the law."
"What?" said Alayna, who amped up her rage by siccing a rabid beaver on him.
Kevin screamed in pain and sprayed blood down his chest. "Alright! I was working a robbery scam with a friend of mine! She pumped them up with drugs, got the info about you and turned him in! Far as I know, he's somewhere sucking up the sulfur!"
Alayna grabbed his face and began squeezing hard enough to make his teeth out of his mouth. As each one started protruding through the lips, a ravenous chipmunk would run down her arm and pulled the tooth out. After about a minute of this, in which he lost about a dozen teeth, Kevin screamed, "No more! No more! Please, I beg of you!"
Smiling, she stopped squeezing and called off the chipmunk. Turning up the heat, she said, "I do believe that your brain is slowly frying to a crisp. So, before it becomes a meal for one of my pets and thus you becoming a nonfunctioning unit, why did you decide to bother me with your pathetic little plan of revenge in a futile attempt to ruin an innocent person’s life?"
Kevin began hemming and hawing, but when Alayna had a weasel start to chew on one of his fingers, he cried, "Please, make it stop chewing my finger!"
"No."
"Oh God, the pain!" he cried. Taking a moment to collect his thoughts, the words soon began pouring out like a cut on hemophiliac. "I was in love with Keisha but she wouldn't even give me the time of day! I figured that if I could somehow make her see the error of her ways, she would have to come crawling back to me!"
"By ruining her reputation?"
"It seemed like a good idea at the time! I figured I would her reputation in shreds and, oh God, it's starting to chew on another finger! I'm begging you, make it stop!"
"You aren't done yet,” she said in a tone that chilled even the sinner standing guard over Kevin.
"Shit!" said Kevin, who spat out more blood, before going back to his story. "With me being the only one who would defend her against the lies and innuendos, she would see me as her knight in shining armor!"
"And you involved me because?"
"Oh God, it's doing another finger!! Umm..." At this point, Kevin was rapidly losing consciousness. Reluctantly, she called off the weasel and slapped him back to reality.
"Wh... what? Umm... I got you involved because I needed someone who could destroy a person with a clear conscience!"
"Threatening me and my children, was that part of the plan as well? Tell the truth, because you know the truth will set you free."
"It... it will?"
"Of course."
Kevin got no further than saying, "Yes." before Alayna detonated. Raising her arms, she let loose with two monster lightning bolts that literally blew the roof off a condo.
Grabbing Kevin by his shirt, she brought him closer until they were touching noses. Giving him one last passionate kiss, she said very quietly, "It sucks to be you."
With that statement, her body exploded with life as the menagerie came screaming down her arms to attack and devour Kevin. Alayna held him in place and watched with delight as her loved ones reduced him skin tissue by skin tissue, body part by body part, and finally organ by organ, until there was nothing left to him except the grease spot that was coating the shirt that she was still holding.
Carefully placing the shirt on the chair, she got up and snapped her fingers. Instantly her menagerie got to cleaning her off and as each one finished, she gave it a kiss as it disappeared back into either her hair or the outfit. When all was said and done, she snapped her fingers again, and became engulfed in a black sulfuric cloud of foulness that made everyone in the condo become sick to their stomach.
When the smoke cleared, Alayna was dressed in the clothes that she was wearing on the first day here: a soft baby blue sweater with a plunging neckline and a soft green blouse with a semi-plunging neckline, sky blue blue jeans and a pair of cowboy boots. Walking over to Ralphie, she gave him a kiss on the cheek and said, "Thanks." before giving his cheek a lingering touch as she casually strolled down the hallway to the bedroom.
Entering the bedroom, she saw that Keisha was still asleep, the female sinner standing guard and Michael reading a book. Bending over to read the spine, she said, "Cute. You're reading The Divine Comedy. Brushing up on the nine circles or on the eight levels?"
Michael closed the book and said, "I like reading non-fiction."
Alayna gave him a smile and a touché gesture. "Anyways, I want to thank you for all of yours and Ralphie's help today. I don't know how I can repay the both of you for this, other than to say that so long as I’m left alone by the human race, I will be on my best behavior. Now, I really do have to fix Keisha's life and get her back to what she was before I stupidly got in the way."
Michael smiled and waved the sinner out of the room. Turning to Alayna, he said with great sincerity, "You really are a unique individual. Remind me never to get on your bad side. And speaking of bad side, I really am sorry for what I did to you last night."
Alayna walked over and gave him a brief kiss on the lips. "I know you are, and I really do appreciate the heartfelt apology. Please, don't go beating yourself over what you did. It does take two to tango, and quite frankly, it's been at least a couple of decades since I got any, and it was well worth the wait. Take care of yourself and be sure to stop by to visit from time to time. Never know what you might get when you do.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Errors In Writing #1
Click here for the connecting post
My friends, here are the examples of what I didn't do right when I first started this fascinating journey.
1) Improper sentence structure (or rather, paragraph structure): As Wally hurriedly made his way across the park (to get away from the menacing crowd), he noticed that a change, however slight, had come over the park. No longer was there a carefree attitude permeating, but instead a fetid cloud of gloom suffocating. It took Wally only a minute to remember as he found a person that helped him this morning and who told him what went on after he left the park. That person told Wally ‘that the guy he caught was a serial child rapist who was currently out on bail (BAIL??) for sexually assaulting a 3 year old.’ Figures, thought Wally. ‘His partner was also out on bail for child prostitution.’ (Excuse me?) ‘What kind of judge’, the man continued, ‘would let two sick fucks like that out on bail? Oh wait; we live in New England where things like this are the norm. And you know what the scary part is? That the guy will try to press assault charges on you, and a sympathetic judge will probably let him do it.’
2) Improper usage of adjectives and adverbs: You name it, I wrote with the -ly attached to it. Almost every paragraph had an overabundance of adjectives and adverbs.
3) Improper dialogue structure (how not to write a phone conversation): “Yes. What is on your pretty little mind now?”…. “Really? That is an interesting thought.”…. “As a matter of fact, I would like that very much.”….. “What? You’ll meet me when?”…. “That’ll be kind of tough to do, I’m going out tonight.”…. “Yes, I do want to do that. However, tonight is not feasible. Now is feasible.”…. “Where am I now? I’m in a small park about three miles from where my family camps. You know the place I’m talking about? Yes, that’s the one.”…. “Well, if you can get here in about 10 minutes, we can discuss it, otherwise it will have to wait until Monday.”…. “YOU’RE WHERE???”
4) Proper scene breaks: This was a no-brainer, as in I wrote every single scene with no more than three paragraphs before double entering to signify a break within the same scene. In other words, in point number 3, the example was the beginning of an encounter between Wally and his forbidden love Azalea. If properly written, it would've been about a quarter page in length. However because of the way I was writing the story, that scene, although a quarter page in length, was stretched out to two pages.
5) Not using the writing guides that were available: Also a no brainer. Only guide I used was the 6th edition of The Gregg Reference Manual, which I got when I went to business school in 1994. So yeah, I was using a guide that was 12 years out of date.
6) Chapter breaks: Yeah, originally I wrote the entire thing with no chapter breaks. Repeat, No. Chapter. Breaks. Instead, I broke each section off and numbered it, I II III IV, and so on. Wound up with 120+ parts (and 90K words) before I figured out it was the wrong way to write this thing.
7) Improper font. Yeah, I did this the hard way too. I didn't like Times New Roman or New Courier, so I first started writing with the funkiest fonts I could find. Like what? Like Papyrus. Like Bradley Hand. Like Franklin Gothic. I finally settled on writing the first draft in Bookman Old Style, second draft in the font that you see here, which is Georgia, and third draft became Palatino Linotype. Font size? 11 point. Or 10 point, depending on my mood and frame of mind.
My friends, here are the examples of what I didn't do right when I first started this fascinating journey.
1) Improper sentence structure (or rather, paragraph structure): As Wally hurriedly made his way across the park (to get away from the menacing crowd), he noticed that a change, however slight, had come over the park. No longer was there a carefree attitude permeating, but instead a fetid cloud of gloom suffocating. It took Wally only a minute to remember as he found a person that helped him this morning and who told him what went on after he left the park. That person told Wally ‘that the guy he caught was a serial child rapist who was currently out on bail (BAIL??) for sexually assaulting a 3 year old.’ Figures, thought Wally. ‘His partner was also out on bail for child prostitution.’ (Excuse me?) ‘What kind of judge’, the man continued, ‘would let two sick fucks like that out on bail? Oh wait; we live in New England where things like this are the norm. And you know what the scary part is? That the guy will try to press assault charges on you, and a sympathetic judge will probably let him do it.’
2) Improper usage of adjectives and adverbs: You name it, I wrote with the -ly attached to it. Almost every paragraph had an overabundance of adjectives and adverbs.
3) Improper dialogue structure (how not to write a phone conversation): “Yes. What is on your pretty little mind now?”…. “Really? That is an interesting thought.”…. “As a matter of fact, I would like that very much.”….. “What? You’ll meet me when?”…. “That’ll be kind of tough to do, I’m going out tonight.”…. “Yes, I do want to do that. However, tonight is not feasible. Now is feasible.”…. “Where am I now? I’m in a small park about three miles from where my family camps. You know the place I’m talking about? Yes, that’s the one.”…. “Well, if you can get here in about 10 minutes, we can discuss it, otherwise it will have to wait until Monday.”…. “YOU’RE WHERE???”
4) Proper scene breaks: This was a no-brainer, as in I wrote every single scene with no more than three paragraphs before double entering to signify a break within the same scene. In other words, in point number 3, the example was the beginning of an encounter between Wally and his forbidden love Azalea. If properly written, it would've been about a quarter page in length. However because of the way I was writing the story, that scene, although a quarter page in length, was stretched out to two pages.
5) Not using the writing guides that were available: Also a no brainer. Only guide I used was the 6th edition of The Gregg Reference Manual, which I got when I went to business school in 1994. So yeah, I was using a guide that was 12 years out of date.
6) Chapter breaks: Yeah, originally I wrote the entire thing with no chapter breaks. Repeat, No. Chapter. Breaks. Instead, I broke each section off and numbered it, I II III IV, and so on. Wound up with 120+ parts (and 90K words) before I figured out it was the wrong way to write this thing.
7) Improper font. Yeah, I did this the hard way too. I didn't like Times New Roman or New Courier, so I first started writing with the funkiest fonts I could find. Like what? Like Papyrus. Like Bradley Hand. Like Franklin Gothic. I finally settled on writing the first draft in Bookman Old Style, second draft in the font that you see here, which is Georgia, and third draft became Palatino Linotype. Font size? 11 point. Or 10 point, depending on my mood and frame of mind.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
A Complaint
My original e-mail complaint about being banned/blocked from their Facebook page. Editing was done to eliminate my full name and e-mail addy.
From: G
Banning me from your Facebook page only shows how thin skinned you really are to criticism from radio listeners. Seems to me that the program director needs to step down and let someonewho has a thicker skin do the job. Or at the least, get off the air.
Now, "his" response. Editing was done to eliminate my full name.
"I'm never on Facebook and from what I understand the jocks let everyone have their say for a week and started getting rid of the most abusivesince the page is for jocks and fans. If you're not a fan why would you be on anyway? The owner runs a business, non corporate or not hedoesn't want to lose money. So we had our 3rd round of layoffs to stayrock, stay live and local, and stay in business. Do you think if Maryand Holden had killer ratings he would've let them go? He made hischoice and we all have to live with it. Don't blame me or the jocks, blame the economy. You've had your say; I would hope you would stay with WCCC and the new more music less talk approach but if not there area ton of radio stations to listen to (I personally think they all suck but you know what they say about opinions) I can't get off the air they save a ton of money. Hopefully I'll get better soon. Nothing personal G I assume the jocks just got sick of the abuse they do not deserve. Hey I still like you!!!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Note: I did not reply to this e-mail because I'm not sure if I would be able to keep a civil tongue while deconstructing this response with my usual amount of sarcastic clarity. Sometimes its best to let things stay at the point of live and let live.
From: G
Banning me from your Facebook page only shows how thin skinned you really are to criticism from radio listeners. Seems to me that the program director needs to step down and let someonewho has a thicker skin do the job. Or at the least, get off the air.
Now, "his" response. Editing was done to eliminate my full name.
"I'm never on Facebook and from what I understand the jocks let everyone have their say for a week and started getting rid of the most abusivesince the page is for jocks and fans. If you're not a fan why would you be on anyway? The owner runs a business, non corporate or not hedoesn't want to lose money. So we had our 3rd round of layoffs to stayrock, stay live and local, and stay in business. Do you think if Maryand Holden had killer ratings he would've let them go? He made hischoice and we all have to live with it. Don't blame me or the jocks, blame the economy. You've had your say; I would hope you would stay with WCCC and the new more music less talk approach but if not there area ton of radio stations to listen to (I personally think they all suck but you know what they say about opinions) I can't get off the air they save a ton of money. Hopefully I'll get better soon. Nothing personal G I assume the jocks just got sick of the abuse they do not deserve. Hey I still like you!!!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Note: I did not reply to this e-mail because I'm not sure if I would be able to keep a civil tongue while deconstructing this response with my usual amount of sarcastic clarity. Sometimes its best to let things stay at the point of live and let live.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Excerpt From Line 21: The Prologue
Sunday
“I need an extension.”
“I’ve already given you two.”
“Please, I’m asking you as a close family member. You know what I’ve been going through in the past couple of months.”
He thought about for a few seconds, gave an audible sigh, and said, “Okay. Because you’ve been the only one in the family who still speaks to me on a regular basis in spite of what I do for a living, I will give you until Friday evening to get me the money. That’s five days from now. Otherwise, I take what they want. Understand?”
“Perfectly. Thanks a lot, Uncle Rudy. This really means a lot to me. I won’t let you down.”
“You better not, because I would really hate to do to you what I do to everyone else.”
She gulped hard, and said, “I promise.”
“That’s my niece. I’ll talk you on Friday at my usual place. Take care.”
“You too.”
Jeannie hung up the phone and thought about what a mess her life had become. Her company had downsized her about a year ago, and between the unemployment and the severance pay, she was just barely making ends meet. With no permanent job prospects on the horizon, her lazy boyfriend decided to break up with her, after she told him that he had to start paying his own way. Money had gotten so scarce that she was forced to take out a loan on her motorcycle. Since her credit wasn’t what you call stellar, she was forced to use an acquaintance of her uncle’s to secure the monies.
He really didn’t want to do it, because he had a lot of respect for her and Rudy, but she was able to wear down his resistance enough (by using the assets that God naturally graced her with) to the point of not only getting the loan, but getting it on her terms. Initially, she was able to make the payments in a timely manner, as she was able to supplement her dwindling monies with the occasional bone thrown to her by a temp agency, but soon she was becoming tardy with her payments.
Finally, it got bad enough to where her Uncle Rudy had to step in and make his personal pitch to her. She shuddered at the prospect of what would happen if he was force to do to her what he did to others who were late. Still, she was appreciative of the fact that he thought enough of her to give her five days to get current with her payments. What bothered her now was how she was going to go about getting the two thousand dollars needed to make things kosher by Friday.
Sighing, she pulled out the afternoon paper and stretched out on the park bench. As she was perusing the want ads, taking notes and circling prospective job openings, somebody sat down next to her and began whistling a lively tune. Intrigued, she looked up to see who was doing the whistling, and was surprised to see a rather doughy looking young man tipping his baseball cap to her.
“Hi there.”
“Hi yourself.”
“Great day to be out at the park isn’t it?”
“Not if you got problems like I do.”
“Oh? Sorry to hear that. Anything I can do to help?”
“Not unless you know where I can come up with two thousand dollars by Friday.”
“Ouch, two k is a serious chunk of change. However, I may be able to help.”
“Really?”
“Really. By the way, my name is Ken.”
“Jeannie. So what kind of help could you possibly give me?”
“Well, for starters, here’s my card.” Ken pulled out a small blue and yellow business card and handed it to Jeannie.
Jeannie took it and read the contents. “Ken Epee, Line 21 Productions. So Ken Epee of Line 21 Productions, what is it that you do?”
“I help good looking men and women use the vast potential of their beings to earn the maximum amount of money that they’re entitled to.”
“Come again?”
“Exactly.”
Jeannie thought about Ken’s last comment for a moment, then went wide eyed. “Not on your life. I’m not that desperate. I have morals you know,” and went to hand the card back to Ken.
Ken held up his hand and said, “I know you do. But sometimes, we can reach a point in our lives where we ask ourselves, ‘Am I doing the very best for myself and my family? What can I do to stave off the bill collectors, foreclosure, bankruptcy, welfare?’ If you got the attributes, why not use them to your advantage?”
Jeannie scrunched her face up and said, “I don’t know, this just doesn’t sound right. It sounds…”
“Dirty? Of course it is. But, if you approach it like a business, then you can rise above the dirtiness and make a good living at it. Look, there are plenty of good looking women like yourself who are doing it in other parts of the entertainment industry. Pole dancing, stripping, and lap dancing, are just a few segments of the industry that people are making a good living at. The movie industry is another segment that can specialize in whatever turns people on. You be amazed at what people get their rocks off at. So why not take advantage of it? Besides, you said it yourself, you need to come up with two k by Friday, and I’m assuming that if you don’t, something bad will happen, right?”
Jeannie shuddered again, and said, “Something very bad.”
“Well alright then. Look,” Ken took the card and scribbled an address on the back of it. “Be at this addy tomorrow by nine sharp, and I promise, we’ll find something for you that will maximize what you got, and from the looks of it, you got a lot to maximize. Besides, what have you got to lose?”
“My self respect.”
“No, you’ll always have that. Remember what I said, if you treat it like a business, then you can rise above the dirtiness. Don’t let it own you, you own it, and by owning it, you’ll always have that self respect. Nobody can take that from you. Nobody.”
Jeannie watched as Ken pulled out his cell phone to take a phone call. Giving her a quick four finger wave, he got up and walked towards the park entrance and, in a matter of minutes, disappeared from sight. Sighing, she took the card, read the addy on the back, before sticking it in her jeans and turning her attention back to the help wanted ads.
Jeannie spent the next couple hours reading, but not comprehending, the help wanted ads. Every time she tried to take notes or make phone calls, her mind kept going back to the business card that Ken had left with her. Every time she got distracted by the card, she would take it out, study it for a couple minutes, before returning it to her pocket. The distraction soon got to be so bad that she finally packed up her newspaper and went home.
Even at home though, the card still was a distraction, because every time she got to thinking about her current situation, her mind kept wandering back to the business card. Finally, about six hours after Ken had left the card with her, Jeannie decided to have a long talk with her symbiont.
Grabbing a chair, she went into her bedroom and placed it in front of the full-length wall mirror. Next, she walked over to the windows and closed the curtains, before making sure that the front door was locked. Walking back into the bedroom, she was about to make herself comfortable on the chair, when her symbiont started giving her what for about the possibility of doing adult movies.
So, you think you got what it takes to do adult movies?
"Yes. I believe I do have what it takes to do adult movies. After all I got the looks and..."
Doesn't mean a thing sweetie, because you can’t even wear something like a tight T-shirt, because heaven forbid, people might complement you on a part of your natural assets.
"Excuse me? I'll have you know that I've worn tight T-shirts before."
In your apartment doesn't count. It's out there that counts and if you gonna do adult movies, you'll really have to flaunt it.
"So how hard can that be? I can flaunt them with the best of them."
How hard can that be? Good Lord woman, listen to yourself. You can't even get nude in the daytime unless you're getting ready to take a shower. As for sex, pfft.
"That's a lie and you know it."
Okay. Prove me wrong by taking off your shirt and bra.
"What?"
You heard me, take off your shirt and bra. Better yet, take off all your clothes, so we can get a good look at you.
Jeannie hesitated for a moment, but that moment was all that her symbiont needed to prove her point. She heard her symbiont say bahhh! before disappearing for the rest of the night.
"What does she know anyways? She's not facing the fact that I have to pay two thousand dollars by Friday, and that this is the only way I know of to get that much money in such a short time frame."
She then picked up the chair and brought it back into the kitchen, before going back into her bedroom and changing into something more comfortable. Comfortable was wearing a pair of panties, a pair of knee-high socks, and nothing else, since she decided to spend the rest of the night topless so as to get used to the idea of wearing no clothes.
“I need an extension.”
“I’ve already given you two.”
“Please, I’m asking you as a close family member. You know what I’ve been going through in the past couple of months.”
He thought about for a few seconds, gave an audible sigh, and said, “Okay. Because you’ve been the only one in the family who still speaks to me on a regular basis in spite of what I do for a living, I will give you until Friday evening to get me the money. That’s five days from now. Otherwise, I take what they want. Understand?”
“Perfectly. Thanks a lot, Uncle Rudy. This really means a lot to me. I won’t let you down.”
“You better not, because I would really hate to do to you what I do to everyone else.”
She gulped hard, and said, “I promise.”
“That’s my niece. I’ll talk you on Friday at my usual place. Take care.”
“You too.”
Jeannie hung up the phone and thought about what a mess her life had become. Her company had downsized her about a year ago, and between the unemployment and the severance pay, she was just barely making ends meet. With no permanent job prospects on the horizon, her lazy boyfriend decided to break up with her, after she told him that he had to start paying his own way. Money had gotten so scarce that she was forced to take out a loan on her motorcycle. Since her credit wasn’t what you call stellar, she was forced to use an acquaintance of her uncle’s to secure the monies.
He really didn’t want to do it, because he had a lot of respect for her and Rudy, but she was able to wear down his resistance enough (by using the assets that God naturally graced her with) to the point of not only getting the loan, but getting it on her terms. Initially, she was able to make the payments in a timely manner, as she was able to supplement her dwindling monies with the occasional bone thrown to her by a temp agency, but soon she was becoming tardy with her payments.
Finally, it got bad enough to where her Uncle Rudy had to step in and make his personal pitch to her. She shuddered at the prospect of what would happen if he was force to do to her what he did to others who were late. Still, she was appreciative of the fact that he thought enough of her to give her five days to get current with her payments. What bothered her now was how she was going to go about getting the two thousand dollars needed to make things kosher by Friday.
Sighing, she pulled out the afternoon paper and stretched out on the park bench. As she was perusing the want ads, taking notes and circling prospective job openings, somebody sat down next to her and began whistling a lively tune. Intrigued, she looked up to see who was doing the whistling, and was surprised to see a rather doughy looking young man tipping his baseball cap to her.
“Hi there.”
“Hi yourself.”
“Great day to be out at the park isn’t it?”
“Not if you got problems like I do.”
“Oh? Sorry to hear that. Anything I can do to help?”
“Not unless you know where I can come up with two thousand dollars by Friday.”
“Ouch, two k is a serious chunk of change. However, I may be able to help.”
“Really?”
“Really. By the way, my name is Ken.”
“Jeannie. So what kind of help could you possibly give me?”
“Well, for starters, here’s my card.” Ken pulled out a small blue and yellow business card and handed it to Jeannie.
Jeannie took it and read the contents. “Ken Epee, Line 21 Productions. So Ken Epee of Line 21 Productions, what is it that you do?”
“I help good looking men and women use the vast potential of their beings to earn the maximum amount of money that they’re entitled to.”
“Come again?”
“Exactly.”
Jeannie thought about Ken’s last comment for a moment, then went wide eyed. “Not on your life. I’m not that desperate. I have morals you know,” and went to hand the card back to Ken.
Ken held up his hand and said, “I know you do. But sometimes, we can reach a point in our lives where we ask ourselves, ‘Am I doing the very best for myself and my family? What can I do to stave off the bill collectors, foreclosure, bankruptcy, welfare?’ If you got the attributes, why not use them to your advantage?”
Jeannie scrunched her face up and said, “I don’t know, this just doesn’t sound right. It sounds…”
“Dirty? Of course it is. But, if you approach it like a business, then you can rise above the dirtiness and make a good living at it. Look, there are plenty of good looking women like yourself who are doing it in other parts of the entertainment industry. Pole dancing, stripping, and lap dancing, are just a few segments of the industry that people are making a good living at. The movie industry is another segment that can specialize in whatever turns people on. You be amazed at what people get their rocks off at. So why not take advantage of it? Besides, you said it yourself, you need to come up with two k by Friday, and I’m assuming that if you don’t, something bad will happen, right?”
Jeannie shuddered again, and said, “Something very bad.”
“Well alright then. Look,” Ken took the card and scribbled an address on the back of it. “Be at this addy tomorrow by nine sharp, and I promise, we’ll find something for you that will maximize what you got, and from the looks of it, you got a lot to maximize. Besides, what have you got to lose?”
“My self respect.”
“No, you’ll always have that. Remember what I said, if you treat it like a business, then you can rise above the dirtiness. Don’t let it own you, you own it, and by owning it, you’ll always have that self respect. Nobody can take that from you. Nobody.”
Jeannie watched as Ken pulled out his cell phone to take a phone call. Giving her a quick four finger wave, he got up and walked towards the park entrance and, in a matter of minutes, disappeared from sight. Sighing, she took the card, read the addy on the back, before sticking it in her jeans and turning her attention back to the help wanted ads.
Jeannie spent the next couple hours reading, but not comprehending, the help wanted ads. Every time she tried to take notes or make phone calls, her mind kept going back to the business card that Ken had left with her. Every time she got distracted by the card, she would take it out, study it for a couple minutes, before returning it to her pocket. The distraction soon got to be so bad that she finally packed up her newspaper and went home.
Even at home though, the card still was a distraction, because every time she got to thinking about her current situation, her mind kept wandering back to the business card. Finally, about six hours after Ken had left the card with her, Jeannie decided to have a long talk with her symbiont.
Grabbing a chair, she went into her bedroom and placed it in front of the full-length wall mirror. Next, she walked over to the windows and closed the curtains, before making sure that the front door was locked. Walking back into the bedroom, she was about to make herself comfortable on the chair, when her symbiont started giving her what for about the possibility of doing adult movies.
So, you think you got what it takes to do adult movies?
"Yes. I believe I do have what it takes to do adult movies. After all I got the looks and..."
Doesn't mean a thing sweetie, because you can’t even wear something like a tight T-shirt, because heaven forbid, people might complement you on a part of your natural assets.
"Excuse me? I'll have you know that I've worn tight T-shirts before."
In your apartment doesn't count. It's out there that counts and if you gonna do adult movies, you'll really have to flaunt it.
"So how hard can that be? I can flaunt them with the best of them."
How hard can that be? Good Lord woman, listen to yourself. You can't even get nude in the daytime unless you're getting ready to take a shower. As for sex, pfft.
"That's a lie and you know it."
Okay. Prove me wrong by taking off your shirt and bra.
"What?"
You heard me, take off your shirt and bra. Better yet, take off all your clothes, so we can get a good look at you.
Jeannie hesitated for a moment, but that moment was all that her symbiont needed to prove her point. She heard her symbiont say bahhh! before disappearing for the rest of the night.
"What does she know anyways? She's not facing the fact that I have to pay two thousand dollars by Friday, and that this is the only way I know of to get that much money in such a short time frame."
She then picked up the chair and brought it back into the kitchen, before going back into her bedroom and changing into something more comfortable. Comfortable was wearing a pair of panties, a pair of knee-high socks, and nothing else, since she decided to spend the rest of the night topless so as to get used to the idea of wearing no clothes.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Coming Soon To A Theater Near You!
Nothing here yet to see. When there is, I will let everyone know at Cedar's Mountain that there is something exciting and new to see.
Until then, please continue about your daily business, and remember, I'm right here behind ya.
And if you happen to stumble upon this blog via the Next Blog button on your dashboard, please check out my main blog at the link up above or my picture blog at Shooting Suburbia.
Until then, please continue about your daily business, and remember, I'm right here behind ya.
And if you happen to stumble upon this blog via the Next Blog button on your dashboard, please check out my main blog at the link up above or my picture blog at Shooting Suburbia.
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