Sunday, April 17, 2011

Preacher

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The preacher takes a long hard drag from his whiskey flavored cigar and as he holds in the tangy pungent flavor until it worms its way through his nervous system, he thoughtfully studies the dying ember of the tip. About a minute later, he sticks the cigar back into his mouth and goes back to writing his sermon on the evils of masturbation. Before he could generate a few more vivid images to torture his congregation with, a sharp poke in his leg cause him to look up.

"No."

She sits down in his lap and drapes his arms across his muscular shoulders. Grabbing the cigar out of his mouth, she chews it down and a few seconds later, regurgitates and starts puffing away.

"I said no, and I mean it. I have a sermon to write on the evils of masturbation and I don't have time to watch your latest confession either."

She spat out the cigar, grabbed his notepad and after glancing through the contents, set it on fire by giving it a sensuous kiss. More than satisfied, she hands the burning notepad back to the preacher and gives him the type of grin that would cause his congregation to collectively unzip.

"This is unacceptable. I don't ask for a lot you know. A day off once every two weeks isn't highly unreasonable you know. Neither is tending to the needs of my congregation on a monthly basis. For all that, I do what you want, when you want it, with no questions asked."

Taken aback by his sharp tone, she bites her bottom lip and start to make a pouty face.

"And I won't have any of those crocodile tears either. Honestly woman, I do have an involuntary job that needs to be fulfilled. Just because my congregation isn't quite as spiritual as you claim to be, they still need my guidance. So please, get your shapely and sensuous body out of my lap and let me do what I was brought down here to do."

Narrowing her eyes, she readjusts her weight until she's sitting on his chest and has her knees holding his head firmly in place. She then spends another minute or so in quiet exploration of her body while the preacher tries not to explore with his eyes what's hidden to everyone else.

Gradually she crosses the finish line and the only outward sign that anyone really sees that might give a hint as to what kind of internal play was going on was the preacher grabbing two handfuls of poison sumac.

"Done?"

She briefly runs her hands through her hair before slowly stretching out her arms. After cracking her knuckles a couple of times, she readjusts her position and sits cross-legged on the preacher's lap. Pursing her lips, she shakes her head a couple of times, before taking his hand and tenderly kisses and sucks on his fingers.

"The answer is still no."

(c) 2011 by GBMJr. All rights reserved

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Excerption From "Dandelion Tears"

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The second that her head touched the flap, Nyx picked up on a peculiar smell. Crinkling her nose, she froze for a moment as she tried to decide whether she should go inside to confront the source of that smell or simply continue on to where the humans were waiting for her.

Several seconds later, the decision was made for her as something gave her a hard shove through the flap and sent her sprawling to the ground. When she'd tried to get up, she found herself staring into the snarling face of the Queen's jaguar, who had taken up a position between her and Jerry.

Nyx quickly scanned the tent for Cerberus and found them near the far side of the tent in a pitched battle with their brother Orthus. Swearing under her breath, she was about to go mano-a-mano with the jaguar, when a sharp whistle brought everything to a halt.

Nyx kept her eyes locked on the jaguar and said, "My Queen?"

For the longest time the only sounds that Nyx heard was the labored breathing of the twin canines, the acid drool of the jaguar hitting the ground and her own heartbeat. But soon the atmosphere changed ever so slightly and Nyx became conscious of a pair of footsteps approaching from behind. She didn't turn to see who it was as the big cat kept her frozen in her crouch, but soon felt a chill running up her spine.

Shivering for a moment, Nyx felt someone lean in and give her ear a long lick before vanishing. Puzzled, she wondered where that person went when she suddenly felt a pair of hands pull her sweater down to expose her breasts. That same pair of hands then started to slap and pinch her nipples to the point where she wanted to scream out in pain.

However, before she could open her mouth, the atmosphere changed again and the air quickly became soaked with classical music. Nyx went wide eyed as the realization that she was about to become someone's personal bitch. She desperately tried to get away but found that her body was completely locked in position.

Biting her lip to quell the rising tidal wave of milk, the excruciating pain and the sensory overload from the music, Nyx desperately tried to figure out who was assaulting her this time. She frantically sniffed at the air for a scent but only came up with what was already floating around. She tried to see the reflections in the big cat's eyes but that same pair of hands ripped the sunglasses off her face.

Fighting with every bit of energy in her body, Nyx knew that her only chance of surviving this latest onslaught was to not let the music work its magic. She tried to focus her thoughts on the events of the day but found nothing in which to grab onto. Thinking hard, she finally found a small seed of a memory to latch onto, but by then it was too late.

A pair of headphones were quickly jammed on her head before a warm mouth wrapped itself around one of her breasts. Within a few minutes, both breasts were milked dry and to her horror that same person was now pulling at her jeans in order to mount her from behind.

Nyx screamed in pain as the person entered and stretched her out in all directions and pounded it home with a ferocity that caused her to bleed the moment they finally pulled out. That same person then quickly shoved a fistful of grass into her mouth before taking a handful of hair and twisting it until her throat was stretched backwards to its breaking point.

Licking her ear again, they whispered, "Welcome to your nightmare. Hate it while you can because next time, it will be your new reality."

Standing up, they straightened out their clothes and blew a short sharp whistle. When Orthus came running over, the person said, "Wait 'til I leave, then get rid of her lover."

The second that the person took flight, Nyx was finally able to move. Collapsing face first, the last thing she heard before being punched out by the ground was Jerry's horrifying screams as Orthus painstakingly turned his body into maggot mulch.

(c) 2011 by GBMJr. All rights reserved

Nyx stepped back out of the mirror and took stock of what she was wearing.

She had on a pair of form fitting dark rigor mortis blue blue jeans that were held up by three tightly woven strands of barbed wire. On her feet was a pair of knee high water moccasin leather boots that were laced with a tightly woven multi-strand of dog hair from Cerberus. A coal black half sweater that covered both arms and her breasts, leaving the key psychedelic triangle of black lily tattoos exposed.

The sleeves had a barbed wire fringe that was adorned with pieces of bloody human skin and the biker gloves that covered her hands also had barbed wire knuckles as well, while the rest of the sweater squeezed her chest until she was showing bullets.

She pulled her waist length hair out from her sweater and was surprised to find that it was brushed back out and the live spaghetti-snake curls that had terrified the familiar were put back in.

(c) 2011 by GBMJr. All rights reserved