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Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Well, it was a good run....

...but in the end, I was ousted by a very HOT and sexay story by Joss Lockwood. So there are now three finalists in the first annual Project Smutway.

Alison's challenge to us was to take one of our shorter pieces, and expand on it. Total word count? Between 2500 - 3500. So, without further ado, I present to you my final entry for Alison Tyler's Smutathon ....


FUCKED TO DEATH. *please hold your applause until the end*


There were a thousand stories in the naked city.  Hers was just one.

Cops milled around the penthouse apartment, in the most exclusive residence in the city. Many of the uniformed officers gazed in awe and wonder at the twenty foot high ceilings, forgetting, for just a moment, that they were there to investigate a crime. A fact that Detective Johnson wasn’t about to let them forget.

“Parker!” One of the rookies jumped at the sound of Johnson’s bark, blushing beet red at having been caught studying the artwork that adorned the walls. “Get your rookie ass over here.” He rushed over to stand in front of him, slipping briefly on the glossy wood floors. He righted himself, looking down at what he could have slipped in. Johnson bent down, marking the spot for the CSI team to follow. But a closer glance told him what he needed to know – semen.

He stood, fixing Officer Parker with a pointed stare. “Parker, this is a crime scene. Need I remind you?” Parker vehemently shook his head. “No sir; not at all sir.”

“Well then stop looking like a kid on a field trip and GET MOVING!” Parker scurried off to speak to the nearest guest, and Johnson turned to M.E. Dawson. “Joe, what the hell happened here?” Dawson shrugged.

“Beats me Lou. But I don’t mind saying I wish I’d been invited.” They both stood in silence as the paramedics rolled the body by on the stretcher. Her unseeing eyes lay staring at the ceiling, the events of the night evident on her thighs. Joe spoke again. “T.O.D. is approximately two hours ago. Levitity hasn’t set in yet. No signs of violence on the body. There’s no reason to suspect foul play.”

Johnson almost sighed with relief. Natural causes would mean that he could avoid the publicity and scandal that the murder of a high profile figure would bring. He was breathing normally, glad he could avoid pulling out his ever-present pack of antacids (incredibly cliché he knew but the job was hell). Until, with almost comedic timing, one of the uniforms came rushing up to him, a brandy snifter cradled carefully in his gloved hand.

“Detective! I found this in the study. At first I thought it was no big deal, but take a whiff.” Johnson carefully accepted the glass, sniffing the interior. He almost groaned out loud. Beneath the scent of the very expensive liquor, was a trace of bitter almonds.

“Fuck.” He whispered to himself, passing the glass back to the uniform. “Joe, make sure you do a complete tox panel. Looks like it might have been murder after all.” 
Johnson looked around at the scene before him, and shook his head in disbelief. Throughout the room, officers had separated the guests, questioning each one as to the events of the evening.

Faces tear stained, naked bodies cum stained, voices strained with grief – all claimed innocence.  But one had to be guilty. 

Which one poisoned the naked socialite? And why?

Earlier....

Kathryn DeLong lounged in the entrance way, a slight smile on her ruby lips. Her nipples hardened under the silken folds of her robe. The scene in front of her was one of decadence, of debauchery, of blatant sexual fantasies.

Tonight was going to be her finest party ever.

The invitations had caused quite the stir, just as she’d intended; simple black on white, with the big, bold letters at the bottom – CLOTHING OPTIONAL. She’d left instructions downstairs with the concierge to keep them all waiting in the lobby until the entire guest list had arrived. Then, and only then, were the dozen special friends allowed into the private elevator which brought them up to paradise.

The looks on their faces when they entered the ballroom was priceless to her. The video cameras set up around the penthouse captured everything for her personal entertainment. Her staff, dressed in only silk robes, approached them, removing their outerwear and revealing all of them in their beautiful, naked glory. None were shy – the swingers club they all belonged to had taught them long ago to be comfortable with their bodies.

Two other staff members appeared, armed with Kathryn’s version of kiddies loot bags. She had tailor made each one to fit. The cries and laughter as they were opened were classic. Dildos, vibrators, lubes, restraints, ticklers – it looked like she had bought out the entire sex shop.

Once everyone had a drink in hand, Kat’s husband Roger hit a few buttons on the remote he held. The huge production began – the music started, the three screens on the walls started playing pornography, and the lights dimmed. “Ladies and gentlemen – pick your partners and let the games begin.”

They all stood around, suddenly unsure of themselves. Denise pulled a long deep purple vibrator out of her goodie bag, and moved to the center of the room. “Well, if no one wants to fuck me, I guess I’m going to have to do it myself.” She slouched down on one of the leather couches facing the large screen, where a woman was getting her pussy pounded by another woman in a strap on. “And now, THAT is inspiring.”

Turning the vibrator on low, she lightly ran it over her nipples, moaning at the sensations as they stiffened into tight peaks. Moving it down her body, she slid it up between her lips, teasing her moist hole with the tip. Her audience watched, enraptured by her facial expressions as she slowly inserted it inch by inch, only to withdraw it just as slowly. Tony approached her, kneeling in front of her, massaging her thighs, his faces inches from the action. His head bobbed in closer with every thrust, his tongue flicking out to lick her lips.

Everyone unfroze at that moment. Roger grabbed Kathryn, pulling her into a passionate kiss. His hands roamed her body, pushing the folds of her robe open. She moaned as his fingers made his way down to her mound, gently tapping at her clit. Her hands found his stiff cock, stroking it in the way that she knew would drive him crazy. She dropped to her knees, licking around his bulbous head, which was slowly turning the same colour as Denise’s vibrator. A drop of pre-cum appeared at the slit and she whisked it away with her tongue. One hand massaged his balls, which were tight against his shaft, and the other moved around to tickle between his ass cheeks.

He bucked, thrusting himself further into her mouth. Her tongue flattened out, licking him in broad strokes from base to head. His fingers tangled into her hair, holding her steady while he fucked her face. Her cheeks caved as she increased the suction. Swirling her tongue as he thrust, she could tell he was ready to explode. When it came to fucking her, he could go for hours, but for some reason, with blow jobs he turned back into a pre-pubescent teenage boy and was quick to come.

Which was fine with Kathryn. As hostess, there was much still to do, and some important details she couldn’t leave to the staff. She would come later. With a strangled cry, he thrust one final time, and she tasted him as the milky stream hit the back of her throat. Without losing a single drop, she drank him all in. He helped her to her feet, kissing her passionately once again, his tongue sweeping the inside of her mouth for remnants of him.

She smiled coyly at him as he sank into the sofa next to Denise, who had abandoned the vibrator for the real thing. She was bent over, her hands resting on the sofa back, as Tony rammed into her from behind. Roger lay beneath her, his fingers ticking her clit, and his mouth fastening to her nipples as her tits swung free.

In another corner, Larry's wife Tina and her best friend Sarah were engaged in a rather hot soixante-neuf, with their husbands watching, while stroking the other’s hard on. It made for an incredibly erotic tableau, and Kathryn wished she could keep that image with her forever. Then she gave a little laugh. She would.

She sat and watched the debauchery unfolding before her. There were dildos and vibrators strewn all over the room, glistening with juices and lube. She watched with great interest while Maxine got set in her strap on, using a generous amount of lube. She pushed her boyfriend Ken onto all fours, kneeling behind him. Massaging his asshole, she then forced the lubed up cock into his tight tunnel. Kens face contorted in pain for a brief moment. Then, as Maxie developed a slow rhythm, his jaw went slack, and his eyes glazed over in pleasure. Kathryn could hear him grunting as Maxie muttered to him "You like this? You like me fucking you?"

"Yes." He gasped. She reached forward, entangling her hand in his shoulder length hair. Pulling his neck back, she thrust harder. "That's my bitch. Take it you slut." Kathryn giggled.

She beckoned Jasper, her faithful butler and constant sexual companion, over to her side. He had provided many nights of pleasure to both her and Roger over the years, but he held a special place in her heart. In fact, she would say she loved him. But Jasper was British, and extremely proper. Providing services for his employers was in his job description, and yes, perhaps he had grown fond of his lady over time. And although he knew of her feelings for him, he would never, in a million years, admit to loving her back.

But it was there, in his touch, in his eyes, in the way he bowed his head as he said “As you wish” after she would ask him to do something for her. “Jasper.” She whispered into his ear, and led him off by the hand. No one noticed as they slipped out of the room. She brought him into the study, closing the door softly behind them.

The staff watched the scene before them in fascination. The DeLong’s often hosted dinner parties, and once in a while, had others over for a “couple’s party”, but never anything to this extent. Cocks swelled, pussies grew wet, and with raised eyebrows and exchanged looks, the staff sent the message that they planned on partaking of each other in the same fashion once the night was over.
Jenna, in the middle of the floor, humping her way to her fifth self-induced orgasm on the bearskin rug, noticed the silent communication between them, and the tents in the robes of the male staff. She beckoned the two closest to her, one male and one female, and raised herself onto all fours. “Kneel down behind me please.” She asked the male nicely, her voice dripping with honey. She indicated the female to lie in front of her. Looking over her shoulder, she wiggled her ass, and handed him a condom. “Fuck me honey. Use that hard on of yours. No sense letting it go to waste.” She then faced the girl in front of her. “Lie down and spread them for me. I’m dying to eat some pussy.”

They tried not to show their shock as they did as she asked. It was Linda’s first party here, having only been employed for two months, and she would never have expected this. Dante had been around for a while and was a little less shocked. But nevertheless, the help had never been invited to join in before. But it looked like it was to be a night for firsts.
Linda gasped as Jenna’s tongue touched her clit. It wasn’t her first time being eaten, but it had never been by a woman. And she moaned as that talented tongue delved deep into her cunt, fucking her like a mini cock.

Dante was absorbed by the scene that was playing out in front of him, so much so that he almost forgot what he was supposed to do. Almost. His cock head nudged Jenna’s lips open, timidly at first. But when she thrust her perfect ass up against him, he lost all thought and shoved his seven inches full into her. Once sheathed in her moist heat, he began shallow movements, rocking against her without withdrawing. She cried out, the sound lost between Linda’s thighs.

The door to the study opened again, and Jasper, his eyes wet, hurried from the room. Five minutes passed before it opened again. Kathryn stood there,taking in the scene before her. She closed her eyes, lost in the sounds of pleasure and lust. She took a deep breath, and glanced at her watch. Almost midnight. In twenty minutes, it would be Valentine’s Day.

She strode into the dimly lit ballroom, voice carrying as she moved to the centre of the room, stepping over Jenna, Dante and Linda, who were collapsed in a heap of limbs, lips and smiles.  “My friends, I hope you are all enjoying yourselves, and …” her scarlet lips turned up in a smile, “each other. I think it’s time the hostess had some attention.”  They all laughed.  Her pussy dampened again as she observed her husband eagerly licking Kitty Carrington’s shaved mound, his strong hand pumping his cock in rhythm. 

She beckoned Jasper, to her.  She smiled, stroking his cheek with her hand, kissing him gently on the lips.  She removed her robe, sinking down into the middle of the group, thighs spread wide, ready, willing.

Her husband smiled, plunging two thick fingers into her already wet hole.  She arched in pleasure, reaching for the nearest cock.  Paul Styles volunteered, groaning as her hand encircled his engorged shaft.  Her pulse accelerated. 

Kathryn’s mouth hung open as her husband’s fingers pounded into her.  James, her ex-boyfriend, saw opportunity and fed his ten inches between her lips.  Katherine’s heart pounded as she took his meat into her throat, her eyes focused on his.  He winked as he held her head, gently fucking her mouth.

Paul’s cock grew under her skilful hand, his breathing becoming laboured as he approached his climax.  Her grip tightened, her strokes hurried as he came with a groan, shooting off all over her luscious tits.  Shaylene, Katherine’s best friend, was on it in a heartbeat, lapping up the cream, paying close attention to her nipples, which were hard and aching.  Katherine’s breathing became laboured.

“Someone please fuck me.”  Her voice was strained from the effort.  Jasper stepped up. “As you wish m’lady” he whispered, sliding his prick into her dripping cunt.  He moved tenderly at first, at an angle. His head rubbed her g-spot just perfectly. She gazed into his bright eyes, her mouth still working James' prick.  She clenched around him, coming hard.

Jasper quickened the pace, ramming into her, hitting the spots he knew intimately. Jenna laid next to her, her fingers finding Kathryn’s clit, rubbing it hard and fast.

James' cock popped out of Kathryn’s mouth as she cried out at the top of her lungs her orgasm tearing through her like a hurricane.  Her heart felt like it exploded, as she stiffened. 

Jasper groaned, collapsing on top of his mistress.  As he noticed she wasn’t moving, his eyes filled with tears. “Goodbye m’lady.” He whispered into her skin.


Thirty minutes earlier, in the study....

The party had been underway for a few hours. She had spent the last two enjoying Jasper's private ministrations. She was sure that no one had missed her. Cleaned up, and once again in her robe, she stood at the window.

“Kathryn, are you sure?” Jaspers voice was filled with tears as he wrapped his arms around her, the two of them gazing at the city skyline.

“Yes Jasper. I’m exercising my right to choose. And I’m leaving on my terms.” Her hand held a crumpled doctor’s report, and she tossed it into the fireplace, where it joined a set of x-rays. She turned to him. “Three months I’ve been planning this. You promised. Please don’t abandon me now.”

She placed her cheek next to his. “Let me hear it. Just once before it’s over.”

He gazed into her eyes, and kissed her tenderly, with all the passion he could. “I love you Kathryn. I always will. I made you a promise. And I will not abandon you.” With that, he turned to mix her a drink. Handing her the snifter, he kissed her again.

“I’d like to be alone for a minute please Jasper.” Her voice broke, and he longed to hold her, to tell her this wasn’t the way. But her mind was made up.

“As you wish.” And with that, he turned and left her.

She gazed again at the beautiful skyline before her, caressing the snifter.  She drained it viciously, resisting the urge to smash it in the fireplace.  She had to remember, that this was what she wanted. In the safe were all the documents they’d need. They’d know why.

Yes, her friends would go through hell, at first. Roger would be devastated that she didn’t share this with him.

But they would forgive her, eventually. They’d all be found innocent, eventually.  And she’d be beautiful forever.



There were a thousand stories in the naked city.  And hers would be one they’d talk about for years to come. 

©2011

Sunday, February 6, 2011

Writing issues

Ok, well, besides having NO time to write - which is a problem in itself - you ever have SO much you want to say that you can't get it out? Nothing you write seems to have the emotional impact you want?

That's the other problem I am having (the no time to write being the first). I have a whole lot of emotional turmoil going on inside of me right now, and I used to be able to write it out (am thinking, in the words of Ari Gold - Hug it out bitch - but that doesn't help either). But these days, everything I write feels wrong.

I'm one that waxes poetic on my feelings - you can tell. But these ones are difficult to do that with. Which makes me think that these aren't feelings I've ever had before. Because if I HAVE had them before, I would easily be able to turn them into poetry.

It's all I've ever done.

But, no matter what I put on the paper, the words don't seem strong enough. They don't seem right enough. Hell, they don't seem to be enough of ANYTHING. And that, my friends, is frustrating the ever-loving HELL out of me. Because I can't put them on paper (or screen as it were) at all.

I even tried to write them out plain and simple, just as they are. Raw emotions, without pretty words or images, and even THEN it seems like I'm getting it wrong.

My muse seems to be telling me that there's more to this - that it's not close to being finished so there's no point in writing it out.

HOWEVER, that depresses me. Because if that's the case, then it means that this chapter is destined to end, and maybe soon. And if not soon, does it mean I'll never be able to write about it?

I'm not sure I like EITHER of those options. Because right now, if I DON'T get these feelings out - I know I'm going to explode.

And then it'll be up to my bestie Terry to clean up the mess - and I hate leaving her to do that.

Any of you out there have advice for this? Have you gone through something similar? How did you get through it.

I need answers - or help. Help would be very nice. But not professional help. My picture is up in every office like a WANTED poster. They don't want to mess with my kind of drama.