The dentist pulls out a Novocain needle to give the man a shot, so he can extract the man's tooth.
"No way! No needles. I hate needles" the patient said.
The dentist starts to hook up the nitrous oxide and the man objects saying, "I can't do the gas thing. The thought of having the gas mask on is suffocating to me!"
The dentist then asks the patient if he has any objection to taking a pill.
"No objection," the patient says. "I'm fine with pills."
The dentist then returns and says, "Here's a Viagra tablet."
The patient says, "Wow! I didn't know Viagra worked as a pain killer!"
"It doesn't" said the dentist, "but it's going to give you something to hold on to when I pull your tooth."
Bargin Books, Games, Music, Movies & More
Friday, August 24, 2012
Room For Rent
A
businessman met a beautiful girl and agreed to spend the night with
her for $500. They did their thing, and, before he left, he told her
that he did not have any cash with him, but he would have his secretary
write a check and mail it to her, calling the payment 'RENT FOR
APARTMENT.'
On
the way to the office, he regretted what he had done, realising that
the whole event had not been worth
the price. So he had his secretary send a check for $250 and enclose
the following typed note:
'Dear Madam: Enclosed find a check for $250 for rent of your apartment. I am not sending the amount agreed upon, because when I rented the place, I was under the impression that:
'Dear Madam: Enclosed find a check for $250 for rent of your apartment. I am not sending the amount agreed upon, because when I rented the place, I was under the impression that:
#1
- it had never been occupied;
#2
- there was plenty of heat; and
#3
- it was small enough to make me feel cozy and at home.
However,
I found out that:
#1
- it had been previously occupied,
#2
- there wasn't any heat, and
#3
- it was entirely too large.'
Upon
receipt of the note, the girl immediately returned the check for $250
with the following note:
'Dear
Sir:
#1
- I cannot understand how you could expect a beautiful apartment to
remain unoccupied indefinitely.
#2
- As for the heat, there is plenty of it, if you know how to turn it
on.
#3
- Regarding the space, the apartment is indeed of regular size, but
if you don't have enough furniture to fill it, please do not blame
the management.
So,
Please send the rent in full or we will be forced to contact your
present landlady.'
Mixed Emotions
A
husband and wife were sitting watching a TV program about psychology
and explaining the phenomenon of mixed emotions. The husband turned
to his wife and said, "Honey, that's a bunch of crap. I bet you
can't tell me anything that will make me happy and sad at the same
time."
She
turned to him and said, "Out of all your friends, you have the
biggest penis."
Monday, August 20, 2012
13 Fun Facts About Rhiannon Irons - Final
Yes, you read that right, gentle readers. This will indeed be the last of my random 13 Fun Facts about our favorite Aussie author.
Why am I stopping? Because this blog will soon cease to exist as it becomes Rhiannon's official website. From time to time, I will make brief appearances on her site, but for the long haul it'll be her work and life on display.
So, sit back and relax as I give you one last 13 Fun Facts About Rhiannon Irons
13) Rhiannon has been known to suffer from both giggle fits and panic attacks. Her giggle fits is literally where she bursts into laughter for hours on end, while her panic attacks happen when she gets stressed.
12) Rhiannon's favorite subjects at school were math, English, history and drama.
11) Rhiannon loves mythology.
10) Her name is Welsh and to honor her Welsh heritage, Rhiannon would like to get a tattoo of the Welsh dragon. It would also be a homage to her grandfather whom she fondly refers to as Opa.
9) Because of her love of history, Rhiannon is fascinated with documentaries and games like Tomb Raider. Granted, Tomb Raider is mostly fictional, but it does have an element of truth to it.
8) Rhiannon loves travelling, but hates flying. She wants to visit Ghana and Kenya in Africa as well as return to the United States and travel across to the UK to visit her extended family in Wales. But her ultimate travel destination is Prague.
7) Rhiannon's love of horror isn't just reserved for movies. She often studies real life serial killers like Ted Bundy, Ivan Milat and Ed Gein, just to name a few, and often says that what they did to their victims is far more terrifying than anything Hollywood horror can create.
6) Rhiannon still prefers to hand write her stories first before she types them. She feels like it adds a personal touch to her story.
5) Rhiannon's eyes are multicolored and change with her mood. Naturally they are blue-green, but if you look closely you can see flickers of yellow.
4) Priding herself on her work, Rhiannon won't release anything until it meets her approval. She is a bit of a perfectionist.
3) Despite her love of water sports, Rhiannon is an advocate for sun smart. Quote, "I always wear sunscreen, a hat and sunglasses when I'm outdoors. Team that with a comfortable T-shirt and I'm ready for a day of fun in the sun." The reason for this is because Rhiannon has already had two skin cancers removed.
2) Is in the middle of planning her 30th birthday that will be a huge bash. Quote, "I've never celebrated a milestone birthday before, so I would like to have a huge 30th to compensate for everything." So far she has 4 theme ideas, all costume orientated, ranging from a Buffy The Vampire Slayer theme, a Tomb Raider Scavenger Hunt, a New Orleans Mardi Gras Masquerade and an Old Hollywood Glamour.
1) Despite her homebody personality, Rhiannon does love getting dolled up and going out for a night of culture and entertainment. She loves going to museums, the ballet, the opera, musicals, stage shows and art galleries.
Why am I stopping? Because this blog will soon cease to exist as it becomes Rhiannon's official website. From time to time, I will make brief appearances on her site, but for the long haul it'll be her work and life on display.
So, sit back and relax as I give you one last 13 Fun Facts About Rhiannon Irons
13) Rhiannon has been known to suffer from both giggle fits and panic attacks. Her giggle fits is literally where she bursts into laughter for hours on end, while her panic attacks happen when she gets stressed.
12) Rhiannon's favorite subjects at school were math, English, history and drama.
11) Rhiannon loves mythology.
10) Her name is Welsh and to honor her Welsh heritage, Rhiannon would like to get a tattoo of the Welsh dragon. It would also be a homage to her grandfather whom she fondly refers to as Opa.
9) Because of her love of history, Rhiannon is fascinated with documentaries and games like Tomb Raider. Granted, Tomb Raider is mostly fictional, but it does have an element of truth to it.
8) Rhiannon loves travelling, but hates flying. She wants to visit Ghana and Kenya in Africa as well as return to the United States and travel across to the UK to visit her extended family in Wales. But her ultimate travel destination is Prague.
7) Rhiannon's love of horror isn't just reserved for movies. She often studies real life serial killers like Ted Bundy, Ivan Milat and Ed Gein, just to name a few, and often says that what they did to their victims is far more terrifying than anything Hollywood horror can create.
6) Rhiannon still prefers to hand write her stories first before she types them. She feels like it adds a personal touch to her story.
5) Rhiannon's eyes are multicolored and change with her mood. Naturally they are blue-green, but if you look closely you can see flickers of yellow.
4) Priding herself on her work, Rhiannon won't release anything until it meets her approval. She is a bit of a perfectionist.
3) Despite her love of water sports, Rhiannon is an advocate for sun smart. Quote, "I always wear sunscreen, a hat and sunglasses when I'm outdoors. Team that with a comfortable T-shirt and I'm ready for a day of fun in the sun." The reason for this is because Rhiannon has already had two skin cancers removed.
2) Is in the middle of planning her 30th birthday that will be a huge bash. Quote, "I've never celebrated a milestone birthday before, so I would like to have a huge 30th to compensate for everything." So far she has 4 theme ideas, all costume orientated, ranging from a Buffy The Vampire Slayer theme, a Tomb Raider Scavenger Hunt, a New Orleans Mardi Gras Masquerade and an Old Hollywood Glamour.
1) Despite her homebody personality, Rhiannon does love getting dolled up and going out for a night of culture and entertainment. She loves going to museums, the ballet, the opera, musicals, stage shows and art galleries.
Friday, August 17, 2012
A Smart Blonde
A lawyer boarded an airplane in New Orleans with a box of frozen crabs and asked a blonde stewardess to take care of them for him. She took the box and promised to put it in the crew's refrigerator.
He advised her that he was holding her personally responsible for them staying frozen, mentioning in an arrogant manner that he was a lawyer, and threatened what would happen to her if she let them thaw out.
Shortly before landing in New York , she used the intercom to announce to the entire cabin, "Would the lawyer who gave me the crabs in New Orleans, please raise your hand?"
Not one hand went up.....so she took them home and ate them.
There are two lessons here:
1. Lawyers aren't as smart as they think they are.
2. Blondes aren't as dumb as most folks think.
He advised her that he was holding her personally responsible for them staying frozen, mentioning in an arrogant manner that he was a lawyer, and threatened what would happen to her if she let them thaw out.
Shortly before landing in New York , she used the intercom to announce to the entire cabin, "Would the lawyer who gave me the crabs in New Orleans, please raise your hand?"
Not one hand went up.....so she took them home and ate them.
There are two lessons here:
1. Lawyers aren't as smart as they think they are.
2. Blondes aren't as dumb as most folks think.
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Things That Go Bump In The Night
Thunder rumbled in the distance as the trees swayed to
the ever increasing wind. Lightning lit
up the sky as though it were day. A
large storm was coming.
On a quiet street, surrounded by large over grown trees, was a small weatherboard house. The black tiles of the roof blended in with the night sky while the white siding lit up with each flash of lightning.
On the second floor, right at the front of the house, overlooking the street, was a small bedroom belonging to a young boy. Trent Anderson was only twelve years old and, like most children his age, was scared of the dark.
He always heard horrible noises at night, banging and crashing, coming from his closet and under his bed. Every time a shadow looked ominous, he ran screaming from his room, down the hall, leaping from the doorway into the safety of his parent’s bed.
Each morning, his father would walk him down the hall, back to his room and proceed to show him that there was no such thing as monsters. “It’s all in your head,” he said every time. “Your imagination gets the better of you.”
Trent did have an active imagination. He knew that. He was always dreaming up stories or fun things to play when no one else was around. He was the sort of child that could entertain himself for hours on end. But when the sun went down, his imagination went with it, and all that was left were the shadows and the things that go bump in the night.
As the storm approached, Trent stared out his bedroom window, huddled under the sheets, his eyes and his spiky brown hair were all that was visible. He wanted to climb into his parent’s bed, but they were out at a movie. His babysitter, Mrs. Harris, was a grumpy old lady who resented having to look after him. She told him that she wouldn’t put up with any of his nonsense and to go to bed in his own room.
She had tucked him in and turned on the night light. Trent’s eyes widened as the shadows came to life. Why couldn’t she have just left the big light on? As Mrs. Harris closed the door, Trent sat up, arming himself with his Transformers and kiddie league baseball bat.
Trent glanced at his closet as a creaking noise flooded his ears. A flash of lightning lit up the room, the shadows dancing on the walls and ceiling. He cried out, diving beneath the covers in an attempt to shield himself from the dangers of the night time monsters.
The wind howled outside, rustling the leaves on the trees. A branch scraped on the gutter. Trent held his breath, counting backwards from ten. His father once told him if he could count backwards from ten and get to one, then all the problems would just go away.
“Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.”
He lowered the sheets. The scraping noise had stopped and the wind has died down. Trent looked out the window. The rain had started. He watched with interest as the raindrops bounced when they hit the pavement. Forming neat little puddles that come the morning he would want to splash in. The dirt beneath his window turned to mud and the road was slick with running water from the sky.
Trent turned his attention back to his bedroom. Toys littered the floor. Cars, trucks, books, an old baseball glove. He even saw the collection of Barbie heads he had taken from his younger sister, Jane. They didn’t look so scary. Maybe his father was right. Maybe everything did look better after counting backwards from ten.
Wiggling around in his bed, Trent laid his head on his pillow. He closed his eyes, feeling safe for the first time.
A clap of thunder shook the house, causing him to jump and cry out in surprise. He looked out the window again, seeing the sky light up. He could hear the rain pelting down on the roof. It sounded like a raging waterfall.
The feeling of uneasiness washed over him as he slowly turned around. He screamed, burrowing his way back under his blankets as a large shadow with long fingers and an eerie smile leaned down over him.
The big light snapped on and the shadow disappeared.
Trent poked his head out to see Mrs. Harris standing in the doorway.
“What’s wrong now?” she demanded, her voice creaking with age. A couple of strands of her silver hair poked out from beneath her flowered hat. “The shadows,” Trent stammered, pointing to the wall where the mean shadow was last seen.
Mrs. Harris groaned, rolling her piercing blue eyes as she made her way around the turrets of toys to his bed. She tucked him in, pulling the covers so tight that Trent couldn’t move his body. He wiggled and was promptly scolded by the cranky old lady.
Once he was tucked in, Mrs. Harris moved back towards the door, kicking a couple of cars out of the way. One rolled under the bed. Trent protested. “That’s my favourite,” he whined. Mrs. Harris stared at him from behind her thick glasses. “I don’t care. Go to sleep!” She slammed the door shut, muttering under her breath something about bratty children.
Trent wiggled, pushing his hands against the sheets, hoping to free himself. One corner of the bedding slipped free, allowing Trent to push it back.
Placing his feet on the cool wooden floor, he paused. Did he really want to get his favourite car back while it was dark and a storm was brewing outside? He glanced down at his feet. If he didn’t get it now the monster that he was convinced lived under the bed might get to it before morning came.
Dropping to his knees, Trent wrapped his hand around his baseball bat. If there was indeed a monster under his bed, he was going to be prepared for a fight.
A noise from the closet across the room caused Trent to turn around.
Feeling brave, he gripped his bat and walked carefully over to the closet. Sucking in deep breaths Trent looked at the double doors. “Ten. Nine. Eight.” He placed one hand on the door knob. It was shaking. “Seven. Six. Five.” He turned the knob slight. “Four. Three. Two.” He pulled the door ajar.
“One.”
He ripped open the door, closing his eyes tightly, swinging his bat and letting out a war cry that could have been heard in Africa.
Something crashed to the floor. Opening his eyes Trent saw his old magic tricks spilling out of their box all over the floor of his closet. His eyes scanned the darkened interior. There was nothing but coats, shirts and pants hanging proudly in his closet. A couple of sweaters were neatly folded and his shoes were placed neatly in pairs.
“No closet monster,” he muttered to himself, bending down to pick up his magic tricks. “Dad was right. There is no closet monster.”
Once his magic tricks were neatly stacked back in the closet, Trent turned to the bed. “There’s no such thing as monsters,” he said aloud as he cautiously walked towards it. “There’s no such thing as monsters. Monsters are not real. Monsters are not real. There’s no such thing as monsters.”
He took a deep breath as the room lit up once again with another flash of lightning. The wind had changed direction, howling through the trees, the rain now slamming against his window.
The room lit up again. Out the corner of his eye Trent saw the shadows spring to life. He gulped, swallowing hard as he turned his head. This shadow had five long and narrow ribs. Trent gripped his bat tighter, his eyes darting around the room.
A clap of thunder caused him to jump. He licked his lips as his eyes locked on his desk chair. Round and smooth, it had five runs on the back. Quickly, Trent looked at the shadow. The five ribs were the five runs. He smiled a gap-toothed smile. “It’s just the chair,” he told himself. “A chair can’t hurt me.”
Feeling proud of the way he handled himself, he turned back to his bed. He couldn’t see what was under it from where he stood, but he knew his car hadn’t rolled under that far. Mrs. Harris only nudged it with her foot.
Dropping to his knees, Trent peered under the bed. All he could see was pitch black. He scooted a little closer. Still nothing. Lowering himself so he was now lying on his stomach, Trent army crawled his way across the floor until he was just shy of his bed.
There it was. His bright red car looked back at him from the darkness. Grinning gleefully, Trent reached out, his short chubby fingers wrapping around the cool metal of the car.
As he pulled his arm back, something under the bed moved. At first Trent couldn’t be sure of what he saw, but he knew there was something under there. He could hear the scampering of feet on the wooden floor. He froze, his arm still under the bed, his eyes wide with fear.
BOOM!
A loud thunder clap shook the house just as another large flash of lightning lit up the room. Trent screamed as two large red eyes stared back at him from the darkness. Even in the low light of the lightning, Trent could see the razor sharp teeth of a monster as it edged closer to him, its forked tongue sliding between its jagged teeth and dry, cracked lips.
It was hideous. Its body was like one large blister, red and filled with pus. Trent could barely make out the veins that ran along its body, pulsing and throbbing with each breath that it took. Its eyes were redder than the car he held in his hand and its teeth were so sharp they looked like they belonged to a shark. A string of drool trickled from its mouth as it inched closer to the young boy.
Closing his eyes, Trent began to count backwards, hoping when he opened them, the blister monster would be gone.
“Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two,” counted Trent, his eyes firmly shut, his knuckles turning white as his gripped his car tighter.
“One.”
He opened his eyes and screamed as the blister monster lunged at him, spitting some kind of goo in his direction.
Scooting backwards on his bum, Trent moved across the floor, throwing toys at the monster in order to defend himself. His toy soldiers bounced off the horrid creature as it chased him, its nails scraping along the floorboards.
Trent threw his bat at the creature. Like the plastic soldiers before, the bat bounced straight of the hideous sight without affecting it. Frustrated and scared, Trent reached into a pile of toys and began hurling them across the room the best he could.
Baseballs, tennis balls, trucks, cars, Lego. Nothing seemed to slow the creature down.
Trent’s back hit the wall. A quick glance behind him confirmed his worst fear. He was backed into a corner. The door to his bedroom was on the other side of the room. And so was the big light.
His hand skimmed across the wooden floors, searching for something, anything, he could use to defend himself. The monster leaned in, its foul breath wafting up Trent’s nostrils. It smelt like rotten fish, boiled cabbage and his father’s sweaty old gym socks.
In a last ditch effort, Trent’s hand wrapped around something furry. It was his old teddy bear from when he was younger. Balding in parts, missing an eye and some of its stuffing, the bear had been in many wars when Trent was growing up. When he reached the age of ten, he decided he was too old for Bear and had placed him at the bottom of his toy chest. Now, with every other toy scattered about the floor, Bear was Trent’s last hope of survival.
Holding Bear up, Trent watched as the monster’s eyes grew bigger, popping out of the sockets. It hissed at him, eyes trained on Bear.
Trent stared at the ragged old teddy bear with its missing eye and bald patches. How could something so heinous be scared of a silly old teddy bear? Not waiting to find out, Trent threw Bear at the monster.
An animalistic scream bellowed from the blister creature as Bear bounced off its head. Trent grinned as the teddy bear landed on its side next to the monster.
The monster roared before lunging at Trent, wrapping its slimy tentacles around the boys arms, pulling him closer to the jagged teeth that were grinding against each other like cog gears.
The frightened boy let out a wailing ear-piercing scream as the monster bit down on his body. Blood spurted across the room, coating the walls and floor and all that stood in between. Kicking and screaming, Trent tried to pull away, but the blister creature held him tight, chewing on his legs and arms before biting his torso in half, killing him.
As the storm outside let up, the creature slowly moved back to its home under the bed, waiting for its next victim.
* * * * * * *
“That’s not a scary story.”
Kate sat on her sleeping bag on the floor of her best friend’s bedroom. Her friend Jane looked at her solemnly, her blue eyes studying the faces of her friends. “I swear it’s true,” she said, holding up her hand in a ‘scout’s honour’ salute. “It happened in this very room.”
“Yeah right,” scoffed Jasmine. “It’s just a scary story. There’s no truth to it.”
“There is too and I can prove it,” Jane said softly.
“No you can’t,” said Mina, braiding her long blonde hair.
Quietly Jane climbed off her bed and made her way across the room to the closet. Carefully she pulled it open. Standing on the very tips of her toes, she reached up, her hand feeling blindly around on the top shelf.
After a couple of minutes, she let out a triumphant cry as she pulled down the object she was looking for.
She turned around. Each of her friends gasped in shock.
For in her hand, Jane held a teddy bear that was missing one eye, had bald patches and was coated in blood.
On a quiet street, surrounded by large over grown trees, was a small weatherboard house. The black tiles of the roof blended in with the night sky while the white siding lit up with each flash of lightning.
On the second floor, right at the front of the house, overlooking the street, was a small bedroom belonging to a young boy. Trent Anderson was only twelve years old and, like most children his age, was scared of the dark.
He always heard horrible noises at night, banging and crashing, coming from his closet and under his bed. Every time a shadow looked ominous, he ran screaming from his room, down the hall, leaping from the doorway into the safety of his parent’s bed.
Each morning, his father would walk him down the hall, back to his room and proceed to show him that there was no such thing as monsters. “It’s all in your head,” he said every time. “Your imagination gets the better of you.”
Trent did have an active imagination. He knew that. He was always dreaming up stories or fun things to play when no one else was around. He was the sort of child that could entertain himself for hours on end. But when the sun went down, his imagination went with it, and all that was left were the shadows and the things that go bump in the night.
As the storm approached, Trent stared out his bedroom window, huddled under the sheets, his eyes and his spiky brown hair were all that was visible. He wanted to climb into his parent’s bed, but they were out at a movie. His babysitter, Mrs. Harris, was a grumpy old lady who resented having to look after him. She told him that she wouldn’t put up with any of his nonsense and to go to bed in his own room.
She had tucked him in and turned on the night light. Trent’s eyes widened as the shadows came to life. Why couldn’t she have just left the big light on? As Mrs. Harris closed the door, Trent sat up, arming himself with his Transformers and kiddie league baseball bat.
Trent glanced at his closet as a creaking noise flooded his ears. A flash of lightning lit up the room, the shadows dancing on the walls and ceiling. He cried out, diving beneath the covers in an attempt to shield himself from the dangers of the night time monsters.
The wind howled outside, rustling the leaves on the trees. A branch scraped on the gutter. Trent held his breath, counting backwards from ten. His father once told him if he could count backwards from ten and get to one, then all the problems would just go away.
“Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.”
He lowered the sheets. The scraping noise had stopped and the wind has died down. Trent looked out the window. The rain had started. He watched with interest as the raindrops bounced when they hit the pavement. Forming neat little puddles that come the morning he would want to splash in. The dirt beneath his window turned to mud and the road was slick with running water from the sky.
Trent turned his attention back to his bedroom. Toys littered the floor. Cars, trucks, books, an old baseball glove. He even saw the collection of Barbie heads he had taken from his younger sister, Jane. They didn’t look so scary. Maybe his father was right. Maybe everything did look better after counting backwards from ten.
Wiggling around in his bed, Trent laid his head on his pillow. He closed his eyes, feeling safe for the first time.
A clap of thunder shook the house, causing him to jump and cry out in surprise. He looked out the window again, seeing the sky light up. He could hear the rain pelting down on the roof. It sounded like a raging waterfall.
The feeling of uneasiness washed over him as he slowly turned around. He screamed, burrowing his way back under his blankets as a large shadow with long fingers and an eerie smile leaned down over him.
The big light snapped on and the shadow disappeared.
Trent poked his head out to see Mrs. Harris standing in the doorway.
“What’s wrong now?” she demanded, her voice creaking with age. A couple of strands of her silver hair poked out from beneath her flowered hat. “The shadows,” Trent stammered, pointing to the wall where the mean shadow was last seen.
Mrs. Harris groaned, rolling her piercing blue eyes as she made her way around the turrets of toys to his bed. She tucked him in, pulling the covers so tight that Trent couldn’t move his body. He wiggled and was promptly scolded by the cranky old lady.
Once he was tucked in, Mrs. Harris moved back towards the door, kicking a couple of cars out of the way. One rolled under the bed. Trent protested. “That’s my favourite,” he whined. Mrs. Harris stared at him from behind her thick glasses. “I don’t care. Go to sleep!” She slammed the door shut, muttering under her breath something about bratty children.
Trent wiggled, pushing his hands against the sheets, hoping to free himself. One corner of the bedding slipped free, allowing Trent to push it back.
Placing his feet on the cool wooden floor, he paused. Did he really want to get his favourite car back while it was dark and a storm was brewing outside? He glanced down at his feet. If he didn’t get it now the monster that he was convinced lived under the bed might get to it before morning came.
Dropping to his knees, Trent wrapped his hand around his baseball bat. If there was indeed a monster under his bed, he was going to be prepared for a fight.
A noise from the closet across the room caused Trent to turn around.
Feeling brave, he gripped his bat and walked carefully over to the closet. Sucking in deep breaths Trent looked at the double doors. “Ten. Nine. Eight.” He placed one hand on the door knob. It was shaking. “Seven. Six. Five.” He turned the knob slight. “Four. Three. Two.” He pulled the door ajar.
“One.”
He ripped open the door, closing his eyes tightly, swinging his bat and letting out a war cry that could have been heard in Africa.
Something crashed to the floor. Opening his eyes Trent saw his old magic tricks spilling out of their box all over the floor of his closet. His eyes scanned the darkened interior. There was nothing but coats, shirts and pants hanging proudly in his closet. A couple of sweaters were neatly folded and his shoes were placed neatly in pairs.
“No closet monster,” he muttered to himself, bending down to pick up his magic tricks. “Dad was right. There is no closet monster.”
Once his magic tricks were neatly stacked back in the closet, Trent turned to the bed. “There’s no such thing as monsters,” he said aloud as he cautiously walked towards it. “There’s no such thing as monsters. Monsters are not real. Monsters are not real. There’s no such thing as monsters.”
He took a deep breath as the room lit up once again with another flash of lightning. The wind had changed direction, howling through the trees, the rain now slamming against his window.
The room lit up again. Out the corner of his eye Trent saw the shadows spring to life. He gulped, swallowing hard as he turned his head. This shadow had five long and narrow ribs. Trent gripped his bat tighter, his eyes darting around the room.
A clap of thunder caused him to jump. He licked his lips as his eyes locked on his desk chair. Round and smooth, it had five runs on the back. Quickly, Trent looked at the shadow. The five ribs were the five runs. He smiled a gap-toothed smile. “It’s just the chair,” he told himself. “A chair can’t hurt me.”
Feeling proud of the way he handled himself, he turned back to his bed. He couldn’t see what was under it from where he stood, but he knew his car hadn’t rolled under that far. Mrs. Harris only nudged it with her foot.
Dropping to his knees, Trent peered under the bed. All he could see was pitch black. He scooted a little closer. Still nothing. Lowering himself so he was now lying on his stomach, Trent army crawled his way across the floor until he was just shy of his bed.
There it was. His bright red car looked back at him from the darkness. Grinning gleefully, Trent reached out, his short chubby fingers wrapping around the cool metal of the car.
As he pulled his arm back, something under the bed moved. At first Trent couldn’t be sure of what he saw, but he knew there was something under there. He could hear the scampering of feet on the wooden floor. He froze, his arm still under the bed, his eyes wide with fear.
BOOM!
A loud thunder clap shook the house just as another large flash of lightning lit up the room. Trent screamed as two large red eyes stared back at him from the darkness. Even in the low light of the lightning, Trent could see the razor sharp teeth of a monster as it edged closer to him, its forked tongue sliding between its jagged teeth and dry, cracked lips.
It was hideous. Its body was like one large blister, red and filled with pus. Trent could barely make out the veins that ran along its body, pulsing and throbbing with each breath that it took. Its eyes were redder than the car he held in his hand and its teeth were so sharp they looked like they belonged to a shark. A string of drool trickled from its mouth as it inched closer to the young boy.
Closing his eyes, Trent began to count backwards, hoping when he opened them, the blister monster would be gone.
“Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two,” counted Trent, his eyes firmly shut, his knuckles turning white as his gripped his car tighter.
“One.”
He opened his eyes and screamed as the blister monster lunged at him, spitting some kind of goo in his direction.
Scooting backwards on his bum, Trent moved across the floor, throwing toys at the monster in order to defend himself. His toy soldiers bounced off the horrid creature as it chased him, its nails scraping along the floorboards.
Trent threw his bat at the creature. Like the plastic soldiers before, the bat bounced straight of the hideous sight without affecting it. Frustrated and scared, Trent reached into a pile of toys and began hurling them across the room the best he could.
Baseballs, tennis balls, trucks, cars, Lego. Nothing seemed to slow the creature down.
Trent’s back hit the wall. A quick glance behind him confirmed his worst fear. He was backed into a corner. The door to his bedroom was on the other side of the room. And so was the big light.
His hand skimmed across the wooden floors, searching for something, anything, he could use to defend himself. The monster leaned in, its foul breath wafting up Trent’s nostrils. It smelt like rotten fish, boiled cabbage and his father’s sweaty old gym socks.
In a last ditch effort, Trent’s hand wrapped around something furry. It was his old teddy bear from when he was younger. Balding in parts, missing an eye and some of its stuffing, the bear had been in many wars when Trent was growing up. When he reached the age of ten, he decided he was too old for Bear and had placed him at the bottom of his toy chest. Now, with every other toy scattered about the floor, Bear was Trent’s last hope of survival.
Holding Bear up, Trent watched as the monster’s eyes grew bigger, popping out of the sockets. It hissed at him, eyes trained on Bear.
Trent stared at the ragged old teddy bear with its missing eye and bald patches. How could something so heinous be scared of a silly old teddy bear? Not waiting to find out, Trent threw Bear at the monster.
An animalistic scream bellowed from the blister creature as Bear bounced off its head. Trent grinned as the teddy bear landed on its side next to the monster.
The monster roared before lunging at Trent, wrapping its slimy tentacles around the boys arms, pulling him closer to the jagged teeth that were grinding against each other like cog gears.
The frightened boy let out a wailing ear-piercing scream as the monster bit down on his body. Blood spurted across the room, coating the walls and floor and all that stood in between. Kicking and screaming, Trent tried to pull away, but the blister creature held him tight, chewing on his legs and arms before biting his torso in half, killing him.
As the storm outside let up, the creature slowly moved back to its home under the bed, waiting for its next victim.
* * * * * * *
“That’s not a scary story.”
Kate sat on her sleeping bag on the floor of her best friend’s bedroom. Her friend Jane looked at her solemnly, her blue eyes studying the faces of her friends. “I swear it’s true,” she said, holding up her hand in a ‘scout’s honour’ salute. “It happened in this very room.”
“Yeah right,” scoffed Jasmine. “It’s just a scary story. There’s no truth to it.”
“There is too and I can prove it,” Jane said softly.
“No you can’t,” said Mina, braiding her long blonde hair.
Quietly Jane climbed off her bed and made her way across the room to the closet. Carefully she pulled it open. Standing on the very tips of her toes, she reached up, her hand feeling blindly around on the top shelf.
After a couple of minutes, she let out a triumphant cry as she pulled down the object she was looking for.
She turned around. Each of her friends gasped in shock.
For in her hand, Jane held a teddy bear that was missing one eye, had bald patches and was coated in blood.
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Three Wishes
If I had three wishes
I know what they would be
For us to live as one
The world in harmony
If I had three wishes
I know what I would want
After all there is great need
For a sarcasm font
If I had three wishes
I know what I would ask
To end world suffering and hunger
Which right now is an impossible task
If I had three wishes
I know what I would seek
For all the bullies of the world
To become the bullied meek
If I had three wishes
I would wish for more
After all there's so many things
That I could uses these wishes for
If I had three wishes
This much I swear is true
My third and final wish
Would be used on you
I know what they would be
For us to live as one
The world in harmony
If I had three wishes
I know what I would want
After all there is great need
For a sarcasm font
If I had three wishes
I know what I would ask
To end world suffering and hunger
Which right now is an impossible task
If I had three wishes
I know what I would seek
For all the bullies of the world
To become the bullied meek
If I had three wishes
I would wish for more
After all there's so many things
That I could uses these wishes for
If I had three wishes
This much I swear is true
My third and final wish
Would be used on you
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Pretty Woman
Rachel
awoke from her sleep. She wasn’t sure of
how long she was out for. After a
weeklong sex marathon she was exhausted.
Rolling over, she expected to see Nate, her lover, lying beside her. The bed was empty.
Sitting up, Rachel gripped the sheets, looking around, calling out for him. There was no response.
Kicking the covers off, Rachel stood up, her feet feeling the warmth of the carpet. She walked out into the kitchen and living areas. Nate was nowhere to be seen.
She called him again, walking around the small suburban house. She was completely naked with the exception of the small leather collar that was wrapped around her neck. Last night she was his slave. Or at least she was until she had fallen asleep.
Now she was just confused and he was missing.
She wandered back to the bedroom, fingering the small D ring on the front of her collar. Where was he? She sat at the foot of the bed and pouted. She glanced at the ensuite. Something on the mirror caught her eye.
Rachel hurried into the small bathroom off the master bedroom. She smiled when she realized he had left her a note. Written in bright red lipstick on the mirror was ‘Take the key that’s in the top drawer of my bedside table and open the locked closet. Put on what is inside, do your hair and make-up accordingly then a car will arrive to take you to the next place.’
Hurrying back into the bedroom, Rachel moved around to his side of the bed. Sure enough, in the top drawer, was a small key. Attached to the key was a note, reminding her to leave her collar at home.
Excitement mounted as Rachel opened the locked closet. As she pulled the doors open, she gasped. Inside was a stunning floor-length red gown, matching shoes, elbow length satin gloves and what she could only imagine was a jewellery box.
She picked up the box. Carefully, Rachel opened it. She gave a squeal of delight when she saw the diamond necklace and matching earrings. She touched it, feeling the smoothness and the coolness of the diamonds. Closing the box Rachel tried to imagine what Nate was up too.
Removing her collar and discarding it onto the bed, Rachel decided to take a quick shower first. The warm water ran over her curvaceous body, trickling down over her already sensitive nipples until they were hard as the diamonds that lined the necklace.
Using a mango scented body lotion, Rachel scrubbed herself clean. Her milky white skin was smooth, creamy. She was proud of the way she looked. Her breasts were large and perky and her stomach was taut, decorated by a dangling bellybutton ring that glistened whenever the light caught it. Her hips and her ass were, as Nate would say, perfection. Curvy, firm, pert.
She turned off the water and climbed out of the shower, wrapping a fluffy white towel around her. She quickly dried herself before spraying her favourite perfume on her wrists and long, swan-like neck.
Rachel returned to the bedroom, dropping the towel to the ground as she put on the white lace panties that were situated at the bottom of the locked closet.
“Hmm,” she said, pulling every item out. “No bra.”
She ran her hand down the dress, feeling the fabric.
Carefully she slipped the dress on, zipping it up. One look in the mirror told her while Nate didn’t place a bra in the closet. The dress was form fitting, showing off every curve she had. The split up the side showed over her long, toned legs, while the bust showed off her ample cleavage.
She returned to the bathroom to do her make-up before slipping the long white satin gloves on. She touched the diamonds with her hand. They looked too expensive for her to wear. Biting her lower lip, Rachel unclasped the necklace, placing it around her neck. She was surprised at how heavy it was. Once it was fastened, she put the earrings in.
She had just slipped her feet into the heels Nate had left her when she heard a horn. Glancing out the window, Rachel gasped. A stretch black limo had pulled up out the front of the house.
It took her five minutes to rush out the front door to where the driver was standing, holding open the limo door for her.
“What’s going on?” she asked, as he greeted her with a tilt of his hat.
“I can’t say, ma’am,” he said, ushering her inside. “Mr. McGuire’s orders.” With that he closed the door.
As the limo pulled away, Rachel glanced out the window. Through the suburbs and into the city they drove. Rachel watched as people passed by, clearly wondering if she was someone famous who was in town.
Turning down Hamilton Street, Rachel’s eyes lit up. This was the rich part of town. Diamonds weren’t a novelty here. They were expected. She saw women in fur coats lining the streets, walking their prized pooches, while the men looked dapper in their three piece suits. Surely the driver must have taken a wrong turn. There’s no way Nate would be at this end of town.
The limo came to a stop outside the Waterfront, the most expensive and exclusive hotel in the entire city. It was world famous, with stars and government dignitaries flocking to it like it was an open bar. Rachel was in awe as the driver opened the door.
“Ma’am, we have arrived,” he told her, holding out his hand to her. Rachel felt awkward as she climbed out of the limo, being careful not to trip in her floor-length dress.
A small crowd had gathered, whispering among themselves that she must be a famous movie star. “I bet she’s the new Bond girl,” one woman whispered.
“No, she’s in that new Calvin Klein ad,” said another.
Rachel felt like a million dollars as she entered the lobby. She stared at the ceiling, her mouth open as she took in the site of gold and marble fittings that surrounded her.
“Ms. Richards?”
Rachel turned around, her blue-green eyes sparkling. “Yes?”
A tall, lanky, man smiled. “I am Mr. Bernard Thompson, concierge. Mr. McGuire is expecting you in the penthouse.”
“The penthouse?” Rachel didn’t believe she heard him correctly. “What would Nate be doing in the penthouse?”
Mr. Thompson smiled. “Mr. McGuire is a very fine client. We do our best to keep him happy,” he said, taking her by the elbow and leading her towards the elevators.
The elevator door slid open and a young man popped his head out. “Take Ms. Richards to the penthouse,” Mr. Thompson said. The young man nodded, holding out his hand. Rachel accepted his hand and let him pull her into the elevator.
A short ride later, they arrived at the top floor of the hotel. The doors slid open and Rachel stepped out.
She walked to the penthouse door and pressed the doorbell. She could hear it chime throughout the hotel room. What was Nate planning?
The door opened, and there stood Nate, dressed to the nines in a three-piece navy blue suit with a crisp white long sleeved shirt.
“Enjoy your little surprise?” he asked teasingly as she strolled past him to the luxury suite. Rachel shot him a look of disbelief as her eyes scanned the marvel of the most expensive room in the whole city.
“This is amazing,” she said breathlessly as she took in the site of the bedroom and its king size bed.
Nate smiled, adjusting his tie. “You can marvel at it later. We have reservations for dinner then we’re catching the show in the grand theatre.”
“Show?”
Nate nodded. “Tom Jones is performing and I know there’s no way in Hell you’d miss that.”
Rachel felt her excitement mount as Nate took her arm and lead her back out to the elevator.
They arrived in the restaurant and were immediately seated at a table near the large aquarium. Rachel could feel the stares of the other patrons as Nate pulled out her chair for her. “People are staring,” she told him.
Nate just grinned. “Are they? Hmm, maybe it’s because they’re all jealous. Women want to be you and the men want to be me.”
Rachel could feel her cheeks burn, and was grateful when the waiter bought them the menu.
Once they had ordered, Rachel felt Nate’s hand slide under the table, touching her knee. His fingers caressed her soft flesh, tracing small circles over it.
“Nate, stop. People can see,” she hissed, her eyes darting around the crowded room.
Nate simply smiled. “No one is paying attention,” he told her, his hand boldly moving up over her thigh. Rachel slapped his hand away, shooting him a warning glance with her eyes.
His smile broadened, but he moved his hand away. He’d have plenty of chances to get under that dress later. Right now, he wanted food.
They ate their meal, their feet intertwining under the fancy linen covered table before making their way to the grand theatre. They were shown to their seats and Nate was pleasantly surprised that when Rachel sat down, her leg was exposed by the slit in the dress.
Just like in the restaurant, his hand sat proudly on her knee before snaking up her thigh, feeling her muscles tense as he rubbed his hand over her tingling flesh.
As the lights dimmed, Nate’s hand slid higher up her thigh, his fingertips touching the lace of her panties. Rachel’s breath hitched as she felt one of his fingers press against her, teasing her clitoris through her underwear.
Much to Nate’s surprise, she didn’t slap his hand away, but rather shifted in her seat, parting her legs a little, to allow him better access. Grinning to himself, Nate playfully stroked her pussy, feeling her panties dampen with each touch of his finger. What a saucy little minx she was.
At intermission, Rachel excused herself and made her way to the bathroom. A couple of ladies greeted her with smiles and a polite “Hello,” but Rachel could tell they were still trying to work out who she was.
Locking herself in a cubical, Rachel reached up under her dress and removed her panties. They were damp from Nate’s previous attention, and the fact that she was watching the ultimate sex idol up close and personal.
Stuffing them into her small clutch purse, Rachel smoothed down her dress and exited the bathroom, pausing to check her reflection. She still looked like a million bucks which made her smile broaden.
Nate smiled as she returned, watching closely as she sat down, her dress parting, her leg on full display. His hand immediately roamed back to her knee, stroking it with his thumb and forefinger.
He caught her eye and did a double take. There was an usual twinkle shining through and her smile was a little seductive.
She bit her plump bottom lip as his fingers trailed higher up her leg, feeling her soft, supple skin.
When his fingers reached the centre of her heat, his eyes widened just as the lights dimmed. That cheeky minx had removed her panties. It was a nice surprise. It was even nicer to know that she was wet and waiting for him to explore her body.
As Tom Jones broke into What’s New Pussycat, Nate’s finger plunged into Rachel’s waiting pussy. He heard her stifle a moan of pleasure as his fingers were coated in her excitement.
Rachel squirmed in her seat as Nate slid a second finger into her. She was certain the people around her could sense what they were doing. And with the way she felt at that particular moment, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to sit through the remainder of Tom Jones’ show.
For the next half hour, both Nate and Rachel willed the show to hurry up. Once the curtain fell, they scrambled over seats to get out. Rachel may have been able to hide her excitement behind a form-fitting gown, but Nate was having trouble concealing his erection.
They got into the elevator and willed it to hurry up. Nate placed his hands on Rachel’s waist, feeling her body tense as he touched her. He could smell her arousal mixed with her perfume. It was only a matter of minutes before he’d have her spread on the bed as he pounded into her.
The elevator came to a stop and they got out. Nate fumbled around in his pocket for the room key. He held it with a shaking hand as he tried to swipe it in the door. It took three attempts but he finally managed to open the door.
Rachel brushed past him, her luscious ass bumping against his erection. Nate couldn’t take it anymore and pushed her against the wall, kissing her deeply, their tongues intertwining with passion.
His hands roamed over her body, feeling her nipples harden as he brushed over her breasts. Her desire seeped down her thighs as Nate held her tight. His erection pressed against her stomach with such force that she winced.
He pulled away, dropping to his knees and hooking one of her legs over his shoulder as his tongue licked her smooth pussy from top to bottom.
Rachel groaned, her eyes closing, her satin gloved hands sliding over her dress, feeling her body respond to Nate’s manipulations.
Nate’s tongue slid up and down her pussy, picking up all the juices that seeped from it. Occasionally, he brushed it over her clitoris causing small tremors to pass through her as well as a moan of pure pleasure to escape from her lips.
Rachel’s hips rocked against him, grinding against his mouth, subtly hinting that she wanted his tongue to probe the depths of her being. He obliged, his tongue parting her lips and sliding deep inside her.
Rachel’s eyes closed, her head fell back as her first orgasm for the night surfaced. She shook uncontrollably and was thankful that Nate was holding her firmly.
Her legs turned to jelly. Nate pulled away after giving her clit one farewell lick. His hands were still holding her waist, preventing her from melting into a puddle of joy and arousal.
With one swift motion he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. He laid her down, his hands purposefully gliding over her ample chest, feeling her nipples respond to his touch.
Rachel sat up as Nate’s hands glided over her shoulders and neck, unzipping the dress. The scent of her mango scented body wash flooded his nostrils as he exposed her body by peeling the dress off, discarding it to the plush carpet of the penthouse bedroom.
Wearing only her satin gloves and high heels, Rachel watched as Nate moved down to her feet, kissing them, his tongue tickling the skin as he took off her shoes. He then proceeded to move up her body, kissing her bare flesh.
He stopped when he got to her pubic mound, opting to sit up and remove his jacket, tie and vest. Rachel wiggled restlessly on the bed as Nate undressed. When he finally got to his pants, he saw lust spring to her eyes.
With a gloved hand, she unzipped him, freeing him to the cool air. Her tongue teased the tip of his throbbing cock, swirling over the sensitive head, feeling it pulse in her mouth.
Nate’s eyes rolled back in his head as she continued to tease and torment him the way he had while she was watching Tom Jones.
She sucked him into her mouth, her gloved hand sliding up and down his ridged shaft, gliding smoothly over it, causing new sensations for him.
He let Rachel continue for a few more minutes, then with a God-like effort, he pulled her off, rolling her onto her stomach. Rachel let out a surprised cry as Nate grasped her hips firmly in his hands and sank into her moist heat with one quick thrust.
The urgency between the two mounted as Nate pounded into her, his balls slapping against her. Rachel pressed her ass back against him, moans of pleasure escaping her pouted lips. Her body craved him to take her hard and fast.
Reaching between her legs, Rachel began to rub her throbbing clit with her gloved hand. The satin texture of it caused mini tremors to shoot through her body.
Nate gritted his teeth. He could feel her muscles clenching at him. Sweat trickled down his nose, falling onto her back as he continued to thrust into her quivering body. Her skin was coated in a sheen of perspiration covering it and her hair was matted to her back.
Wrapping his arms around her waist, Nate pulled Rachel up into a sitting position. His cock slid in and out of her, while his hands fondled her breasts, pinching her nipples.
Rachel gasped as his hand replaced hers, rubbing her clit with the same fury that he was pounding into her. She could feel her orgasm building until she let out a throaty cry, coming with such force that Nate could feel it grabbing at his erection, milking him to come with her.
They collapsed face down on the bed, breathing hard.
Rachel could feel Nate’s chest heaving, his come seeping out of her, trickling down her thighs.
“So?” she asked, as Nate rolled off her and onto his back. “What’s the plan for the rest of the night?”
Rolling over, she expected to see Nate, her lover, lying beside her. The bed was empty.
Sitting up, Rachel gripped the sheets, looking around, calling out for him. There was no response.
Kicking the covers off, Rachel stood up, her feet feeling the warmth of the carpet. She walked out into the kitchen and living areas. Nate was nowhere to be seen.
She called him again, walking around the small suburban house. She was completely naked with the exception of the small leather collar that was wrapped around her neck. Last night she was his slave. Or at least she was until she had fallen asleep.
Now she was just confused and he was missing.
She wandered back to the bedroom, fingering the small D ring on the front of her collar. Where was he? She sat at the foot of the bed and pouted. She glanced at the ensuite. Something on the mirror caught her eye.
Rachel hurried into the small bathroom off the master bedroom. She smiled when she realized he had left her a note. Written in bright red lipstick on the mirror was ‘Take the key that’s in the top drawer of my bedside table and open the locked closet. Put on what is inside, do your hair and make-up accordingly then a car will arrive to take you to the next place.’
Hurrying back into the bedroom, Rachel moved around to his side of the bed. Sure enough, in the top drawer, was a small key. Attached to the key was a note, reminding her to leave her collar at home.
Excitement mounted as Rachel opened the locked closet. As she pulled the doors open, she gasped. Inside was a stunning floor-length red gown, matching shoes, elbow length satin gloves and what she could only imagine was a jewellery box.
She picked up the box. Carefully, Rachel opened it. She gave a squeal of delight when she saw the diamond necklace and matching earrings. She touched it, feeling the smoothness and the coolness of the diamonds. Closing the box Rachel tried to imagine what Nate was up too.
Removing her collar and discarding it onto the bed, Rachel decided to take a quick shower first. The warm water ran over her curvaceous body, trickling down over her already sensitive nipples until they were hard as the diamonds that lined the necklace.
Using a mango scented body lotion, Rachel scrubbed herself clean. Her milky white skin was smooth, creamy. She was proud of the way she looked. Her breasts were large and perky and her stomach was taut, decorated by a dangling bellybutton ring that glistened whenever the light caught it. Her hips and her ass were, as Nate would say, perfection. Curvy, firm, pert.
She turned off the water and climbed out of the shower, wrapping a fluffy white towel around her. She quickly dried herself before spraying her favourite perfume on her wrists and long, swan-like neck.
Rachel returned to the bedroom, dropping the towel to the ground as she put on the white lace panties that were situated at the bottom of the locked closet.
“Hmm,” she said, pulling every item out. “No bra.”
She ran her hand down the dress, feeling the fabric.
Carefully she slipped the dress on, zipping it up. One look in the mirror told her while Nate didn’t place a bra in the closet. The dress was form fitting, showing off every curve she had. The split up the side showed over her long, toned legs, while the bust showed off her ample cleavage.
She returned to the bathroom to do her make-up before slipping the long white satin gloves on. She touched the diamonds with her hand. They looked too expensive for her to wear. Biting her lower lip, Rachel unclasped the necklace, placing it around her neck. She was surprised at how heavy it was. Once it was fastened, she put the earrings in.
She had just slipped her feet into the heels Nate had left her when she heard a horn. Glancing out the window, Rachel gasped. A stretch black limo had pulled up out the front of the house.
It took her five minutes to rush out the front door to where the driver was standing, holding open the limo door for her.
“What’s going on?” she asked, as he greeted her with a tilt of his hat.
“I can’t say, ma’am,” he said, ushering her inside. “Mr. McGuire’s orders.” With that he closed the door.
As the limo pulled away, Rachel glanced out the window. Through the suburbs and into the city they drove. Rachel watched as people passed by, clearly wondering if she was someone famous who was in town.
Turning down Hamilton Street, Rachel’s eyes lit up. This was the rich part of town. Diamonds weren’t a novelty here. They were expected. She saw women in fur coats lining the streets, walking their prized pooches, while the men looked dapper in their three piece suits. Surely the driver must have taken a wrong turn. There’s no way Nate would be at this end of town.
The limo came to a stop outside the Waterfront, the most expensive and exclusive hotel in the entire city. It was world famous, with stars and government dignitaries flocking to it like it was an open bar. Rachel was in awe as the driver opened the door.
“Ma’am, we have arrived,” he told her, holding out his hand to her. Rachel felt awkward as she climbed out of the limo, being careful not to trip in her floor-length dress.
A small crowd had gathered, whispering among themselves that she must be a famous movie star. “I bet she’s the new Bond girl,” one woman whispered.
“No, she’s in that new Calvin Klein ad,” said another.
Rachel felt like a million dollars as she entered the lobby. She stared at the ceiling, her mouth open as she took in the site of gold and marble fittings that surrounded her.
“Ms. Richards?”
Rachel turned around, her blue-green eyes sparkling. “Yes?”
A tall, lanky, man smiled. “I am Mr. Bernard Thompson, concierge. Mr. McGuire is expecting you in the penthouse.”
“The penthouse?” Rachel didn’t believe she heard him correctly. “What would Nate be doing in the penthouse?”
Mr. Thompson smiled. “Mr. McGuire is a very fine client. We do our best to keep him happy,” he said, taking her by the elbow and leading her towards the elevators.
The elevator door slid open and a young man popped his head out. “Take Ms. Richards to the penthouse,” Mr. Thompson said. The young man nodded, holding out his hand. Rachel accepted his hand and let him pull her into the elevator.
A short ride later, they arrived at the top floor of the hotel. The doors slid open and Rachel stepped out.
She walked to the penthouse door and pressed the doorbell. She could hear it chime throughout the hotel room. What was Nate planning?
The door opened, and there stood Nate, dressed to the nines in a three-piece navy blue suit with a crisp white long sleeved shirt.
“Enjoy your little surprise?” he asked teasingly as she strolled past him to the luxury suite. Rachel shot him a look of disbelief as her eyes scanned the marvel of the most expensive room in the whole city.
“This is amazing,” she said breathlessly as she took in the site of the bedroom and its king size bed.
Nate smiled, adjusting his tie. “You can marvel at it later. We have reservations for dinner then we’re catching the show in the grand theatre.”
“Show?”
Nate nodded. “Tom Jones is performing and I know there’s no way in Hell you’d miss that.”
Rachel felt her excitement mount as Nate took her arm and lead her back out to the elevator.
They arrived in the restaurant and were immediately seated at a table near the large aquarium. Rachel could feel the stares of the other patrons as Nate pulled out her chair for her. “People are staring,” she told him.
Nate just grinned. “Are they? Hmm, maybe it’s because they’re all jealous. Women want to be you and the men want to be me.”
Rachel could feel her cheeks burn, and was grateful when the waiter bought them the menu.
Once they had ordered, Rachel felt Nate’s hand slide under the table, touching her knee. His fingers caressed her soft flesh, tracing small circles over it.
“Nate, stop. People can see,” she hissed, her eyes darting around the crowded room.
Nate simply smiled. “No one is paying attention,” he told her, his hand boldly moving up over her thigh. Rachel slapped his hand away, shooting him a warning glance with her eyes.
His smile broadened, but he moved his hand away. He’d have plenty of chances to get under that dress later. Right now, he wanted food.
They ate their meal, their feet intertwining under the fancy linen covered table before making their way to the grand theatre. They were shown to their seats and Nate was pleasantly surprised that when Rachel sat down, her leg was exposed by the slit in the dress.
Just like in the restaurant, his hand sat proudly on her knee before snaking up her thigh, feeling her muscles tense as he rubbed his hand over her tingling flesh.
As the lights dimmed, Nate’s hand slid higher up her thigh, his fingertips touching the lace of her panties. Rachel’s breath hitched as she felt one of his fingers press against her, teasing her clitoris through her underwear.
Much to Nate’s surprise, she didn’t slap his hand away, but rather shifted in her seat, parting her legs a little, to allow him better access. Grinning to himself, Nate playfully stroked her pussy, feeling her panties dampen with each touch of his finger. What a saucy little minx she was.
At intermission, Rachel excused herself and made her way to the bathroom. A couple of ladies greeted her with smiles and a polite “Hello,” but Rachel could tell they were still trying to work out who she was.
Locking herself in a cubical, Rachel reached up under her dress and removed her panties. They were damp from Nate’s previous attention, and the fact that she was watching the ultimate sex idol up close and personal.
Stuffing them into her small clutch purse, Rachel smoothed down her dress and exited the bathroom, pausing to check her reflection. She still looked like a million bucks which made her smile broaden.
Nate smiled as she returned, watching closely as she sat down, her dress parting, her leg on full display. His hand immediately roamed back to her knee, stroking it with his thumb and forefinger.
He caught her eye and did a double take. There was an usual twinkle shining through and her smile was a little seductive.
She bit her plump bottom lip as his fingers trailed higher up her leg, feeling her soft, supple skin.
When his fingers reached the centre of her heat, his eyes widened just as the lights dimmed. That cheeky minx had removed her panties. It was a nice surprise. It was even nicer to know that she was wet and waiting for him to explore her body.
As Tom Jones broke into What’s New Pussycat, Nate’s finger plunged into Rachel’s waiting pussy. He heard her stifle a moan of pleasure as his fingers were coated in her excitement.
Rachel squirmed in her seat as Nate slid a second finger into her. She was certain the people around her could sense what they were doing. And with the way she felt at that particular moment, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to sit through the remainder of Tom Jones’ show.
For the next half hour, both Nate and Rachel willed the show to hurry up. Once the curtain fell, they scrambled over seats to get out. Rachel may have been able to hide her excitement behind a form-fitting gown, but Nate was having trouble concealing his erection.
They got into the elevator and willed it to hurry up. Nate placed his hands on Rachel’s waist, feeling her body tense as he touched her. He could smell her arousal mixed with her perfume. It was only a matter of minutes before he’d have her spread on the bed as he pounded into her.
The elevator came to a stop and they got out. Nate fumbled around in his pocket for the room key. He held it with a shaking hand as he tried to swipe it in the door. It took three attempts but he finally managed to open the door.
Rachel brushed past him, her luscious ass bumping against his erection. Nate couldn’t take it anymore and pushed her against the wall, kissing her deeply, their tongues intertwining with passion.
His hands roamed over her body, feeling her nipples harden as he brushed over her breasts. Her desire seeped down her thighs as Nate held her tight. His erection pressed against her stomach with such force that she winced.
He pulled away, dropping to his knees and hooking one of her legs over his shoulder as his tongue licked her smooth pussy from top to bottom.
Rachel groaned, her eyes closing, her satin gloved hands sliding over her dress, feeling her body respond to Nate’s manipulations.
Nate’s tongue slid up and down her pussy, picking up all the juices that seeped from it. Occasionally, he brushed it over her clitoris causing small tremors to pass through her as well as a moan of pure pleasure to escape from her lips.
Rachel’s hips rocked against him, grinding against his mouth, subtly hinting that she wanted his tongue to probe the depths of her being. He obliged, his tongue parting her lips and sliding deep inside her.
Rachel’s eyes closed, her head fell back as her first orgasm for the night surfaced. She shook uncontrollably and was thankful that Nate was holding her firmly.
Her legs turned to jelly. Nate pulled away after giving her clit one farewell lick. His hands were still holding her waist, preventing her from melting into a puddle of joy and arousal.
With one swift motion he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. He laid her down, his hands purposefully gliding over her ample chest, feeling her nipples respond to his touch.
Rachel sat up as Nate’s hands glided over her shoulders and neck, unzipping the dress. The scent of her mango scented body wash flooded his nostrils as he exposed her body by peeling the dress off, discarding it to the plush carpet of the penthouse bedroom.
Wearing only her satin gloves and high heels, Rachel watched as Nate moved down to her feet, kissing them, his tongue tickling the skin as he took off her shoes. He then proceeded to move up her body, kissing her bare flesh.
He stopped when he got to her pubic mound, opting to sit up and remove his jacket, tie and vest. Rachel wiggled restlessly on the bed as Nate undressed. When he finally got to his pants, he saw lust spring to her eyes.
With a gloved hand, she unzipped him, freeing him to the cool air. Her tongue teased the tip of his throbbing cock, swirling over the sensitive head, feeling it pulse in her mouth.
Nate’s eyes rolled back in his head as she continued to tease and torment him the way he had while she was watching Tom Jones.
She sucked him into her mouth, her gloved hand sliding up and down his ridged shaft, gliding smoothly over it, causing new sensations for him.
He let Rachel continue for a few more minutes, then with a God-like effort, he pulled her off, rolling her onto her stomach. Rachel let out a surprised cry as Nate grasped her hips firmly in his hands and sank into her moist heat with one quick thrust.
The urgency between the two mounted as Nate pounded into her, his balls slapping against her. Rachel pressed her ass back against him, moans of pleasure escaping her pouted lips. Her body craved him to take her hard and fast.
Reaching between her legs, Rachel began to rub her throbbing clit with her gloved hand. The satin texture of it caused mini tremors to shoot through her body.
Nate gritted his teeth. He could feel her muscles clenching at him. Sweat trickled down his nose, falling onto her back as he continued to thrust into her quivering body. Her skin was coated in a sheen of perspiration covering it and her hair was matted to her back.
Wrapping his arms around her waist, Nate pulled Rachel up into a sitting position. His cock slid in and out of her, while his hands fondled her breasts, pinching her nipples.
Rachel gasped as his hand replaced hers, rubbing her clit with the same fury that he was pounding into her. She could feel her orgasm building until she let out a throaty cry, coming with such force that Nate could feel it grabbing at his erection, milking him to come with her.
They collapsed face down on the bed, breathing hard.
Rachel could feel Nate’s chest heaving, his come seeping out of her, trickling down her thighs.
“So?” she asked, as Nate rolled off her and onto his back. “What’s the plan for the rest of the night?”
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
An Affair To Dismember
Holly sat on the bed, facing the
window. In the background sirens sounded
as the police arrived at the suburban residence.
As the police stormed the room, gasps of shock were heard as the grisly scene
played out before them.
Blood lined the walls, splattered in various patterns, indicating to the naked
eye that there was more than one victim.
The fact that there were numerous heads lining the bed that Holly sat on, also
indicated to more than one victim.
“What the hell?”
Holly looked up at the officer. Holding
up her wrists she had a look of defeat in her eyes. “Cuff me,” she said.
* *
* * *
Holly wasn’t a violent person. She wouldn’t hurt a fly. Keeping to herself most of the time, she was
a shy girl with a heart of gold.
In her senior year in high school, a transfer student by the name of Adam
Hooper took a liking to her. It started
innocently enough. He leant across his
desk and asked to borrow a pen. The
following day, he appeared by her locker, the pen in hand. “Here,” he said simply, handing it to
her. Holly looked a little perplexed and
told him that he could keep it. Adam
just smiled before reminding her that he borrowed it. He turned and walked off, swinging his
backpack over his shoulder.
Two weeks later, Adam sat with her in the cafeteria. “What are you reading?” he asked, opening the
brown paper bag that contained his lunch.
Holly swallowed the Monday mystery meat and showed him the cover.
“Lord of the Flies,” Adam read, pulling out a lettuce, cheese and ham
sandwich. “That’s pretty heavy stuff.”
Holly nodded, unsure of what to say.
Never had someone engaged her in conversation at lunch before, let alone
anyone as gorgeous as Adam.
She stared at him. His shaggy dark brown
hair hung over his forehead. His eyes
were so dark they were almost black. He
was tanned, toned and just a picture of perfection in Holly’s eyes.
“So, do you have a name?” he asked, taking a large bite of his sandwich.
“Holly. Holly Franklin.”
“I’m Adam Hooper,” he replied, shaking her hand.
Holly smiled, feeling the electric pulses shoot through her hand as their skin
touched.
“Why are you sitting with me?” she asked.
Adam smiled. “It was either sit here and
engage a pretty girl, or join the meatheads on the other side of the caf and a
milk chugging contest. Really, it was a
no brainer.”
Holly smiled shyly, her cheeks turning red.
She turned her head slightly so that he wouldn’t see how embarrassed she
was by his charming words.
Adam smirked, chewing slowly. He did
think Holly was cute. Her mousey brown
hair hung limply and her large glasses hid her violet eyes. Her skin was pale and she wasn’t exactly the
cheerleader type, but still, there was something enchanting about her.
Over the next couple of weeks, Adam and Holly spent a lot of time
together. From study dates and hanging
out after school to seeing a couple of movies.
For the first time in her life, Holly was beginning to come out of her
shell.
Adam made her feel free and he didn’t care if she acted goofy or that she had a
collection of butterflies or the fact that her bedroom was literally filled
with pink frills. He liked her for her.
Then one night, after catching a late movie, it happened. Adam kissed her on the doorstep to her
house. Holly felt herself sigh as his
lips pressed against hers, her arms wrapping around his neck as her body fell
against his.
It was her first kiss. And it couldn’t
have been more perfect. It was as though
it had been scripted.
The following week the school principal made an announcement that there would
be a winter dance. Holly had never attended
a school dance before but when Adam asked if she would go, Holly said yes
before he had completely finished his sentence.
With a spring in her step, Holly and Adam walked over to the dance committee
table. Holly pulled out some cash and
handed it to the peppy cheerleader, Elle.
“Two tickets please,” she asked, meekly.
Regardless of how Adam made her feel, she was still intimidated by the
popular kids.
“Sorry, we don’t sell to losers,” Elle said, dismissing Holly with a wave of her
hand.
She turned to Adam, disappointment crossing her face and she shrugged. She didn’t feel like getting into a screaming
match with the popular crowd. She was
already an outcast. She didn’t want her
high school life to be completely miserable filled with daily ridicule.
Adam took her money and walked over to the table. “Are you deaf? We don’t sell to losers,” Elle said, smiling
sweetly at him while her group of friends giggled.
Adam smiled back. “I heard it, but you
see, I think the real problem is you don’t know how to count change. Let me make it easy. Here’s the money.” He dropped the cash on the table. His hand snaked over to the tickets. “And I’m taking the tickets. Have a nice day.”
Elle was left speechless as Adam wrapped his arm around Holly and walked off.
“I can’t believe you did that,” she said gleefully. Adam grinned, squeezing her tight.
“Their faces were priceless,” he said with a chuckle as they walked through the
school halls together.
As they approached Holly’s locker, Adam turned all serious. “How much do they pick on you?” he
asked. Holly shrugged. “A few times a day. They just call me ‘loser’ and once Elle’s
boyfriend, Derek, tripped me into the mud outside the school library.”
Adam frowned. “I know a way of getting
even with them,” he said, his voice hushed.
Holly glanced over her shoulder.
His eyes were cold and his face had a sudden hardness to it.
“What are you talking about?” she asked, pulling her history book out of her
locker.
“Come to my place tonight at midnight and you’ll see what I mean.”
Holly opened her mouth to say something but Adam walked off, running his hand
through his hair.
That night, Holly said good night to her parents and went up to her room. She lay awake, the covers hiding her jeans
and t-shirt. She listened as her parents
made their way to bed then carefully she threw the covers off and climbed out
her window.
She had never done anything like this before.
Standing on the roof of her house, she began to question whether or not
she really wanted to shimmy down the drain pipe. Her curiosity got the better of her as she
began to think about Adam and what he had said.
Maybe he was planning a Carrie like stunt at the dance when Elle was
crowned Snow Queen. Maybe he was going
to change the ballots so someone else was named Snow Queen instead.
As the thoughts of revenge filled her head, Holly found herself climbing down
off her roof. Her footing slipped and
she fell only a couple of feet before landing on the plush lawn that her father
was so proud of.
Brushing the grass off her clothes, Holly jogged down the street. Adam’s place was only a couple of blocks from
her house, in a quiet suburban street.
She had been there a couple of times as Adam wanted to introduce her to his
parents, but they were never around when she was there.
Adam was standing out the front of his house, a cigarette in hand. He smiled when he saw her. “Was wondering if you were going to come,” he
said, his voice echoing down the quiet street.
Holly gave him a weak smile. “I had to
wait for my parents to go to sleep,” she said.
“They sure do like to stay up late.”
Adam grinned, dropping the smoke to the
ground and stomping it out. “Ahh no
matter. You’re here now which means I
can show you what I meant by getting even.”
He grabbed hold of her hand and pulled her inside his house.
It was dark inside and Holly’s eyes were having a hard time adjusting to the
lack of light.
Despite the exterior, the house was in shambles on the inside. Outdated carpet greeted Holly and the couch
looked like someone from her neighborhood had thrown it out. The floor lamp was old wood that had rotted
and the TV looked like it had stepped out of the 1960’s.
“Nice place,” she said, with a tight smile.
“It’s not much, but it’s home,” Adam replied, leading her to the stairs. They creaked loudly under their weight as
they ascended the stairs.
Adam led her over the landing to the last room.
He opened the door, flipped on the light and Holly gasped.
Lying in the middle of the room was Elle and her friends. Each of them was bound at the ankles, their
wrists secured behind their backs. They
were gagged with simple pieces of cloth and Holly couldn’t help but notice the
pleading looks in their eyes as their muffled cries echoed in her ears.
“What? What have you done?” she
demanded, turning to Adam.
Adam grinned. “It’s called getting
even. They made your life a living hell,
Holly. Now it’s time to return the favor.”
Holly stared in horror at the scene around her.
She couldn’t image what was going through Adam’s head. All she knew was that she had to get out of
there as fast as she could.
Turning to run, Holly was blocked by Adam.
“Move, Adam,” she said, her voice shaking almost as much as her hands. “I want to go home.” Adam grinned.
“But don’t you want to get even?” he asked, his hand running through his
hair.
Holly shook her head. “I thought we
would pull a stunt from Carrie and cover Elle in blood at the school
dance. I didn’t think you’d kidnap her
and her friends.”
Adam’s smile changed from a cocky school boy grin to something more
sinister. “Now that would have been
interesting,” he said, moving away from the door and over to Elle. Reaching down, he grabbed a fistful of her
long blonde hair and yanked her up into a sitting position. “What do you think, bitch? Did that sound like a good idea? Covering you in blood at the school dance?”
Elle shook her head, sobbing. She was
trying to plead with him to let her go, but her begging was muffled by the
cloth gag.
Holly, terrified of what Adam might do, inched her way towards the door, her
outstretched hand wrapping around the knob.
She turned the handle but the door didn’t open. She pulled then pushed. Nothing happened. She let out a frustrated wail as she pounded
on the door.
Adam chuckled, holding up a set of keys.
“If you want out, Holly, then you got to help,” he said, letting go of Elle’s
hair, letting her head drop to the floor with a thud.
Holly began to shake, tears forming in her eyes. She felt one slide down her cheek as Adam
moved towards Elle’s boyfriend, Greg McLean.
With one swift movement, he sliced Greg’s neck, sending a spray of blood
across the room, covering Elle and her friends.
Holly screamed and began pounding on the door in hopes of waking Adam’s
parents. Elle and her two friends sobbed
as Greg’s eyes rolled back, taking his final breath.
Holding the knife, Adam turned his attention to the girls on the floor. He held Greg’s head by his hair before he
began hacking away at the neck, in an attempt to cut Greg’s head clean off his
body.
Terrified by the scene, Holly ran past Adam, trying to get to the window. As though he had anticipated her move, he
stuck his foot out and tripped her.
Holly screamed, her hands flying out in front of her as she fell to the
floor, her head hitting the bedside table.
She groaned, her eyes flickering open.
A triumphant cry caused her to sit up, rubbing her head. When she turned around, she could feel a lump
rise in her throat when she saw Adam holding Greg’s head with one hand while
his body was slumped on the floor.
“Adam, stop,” she croaked. Her head hurt
and she could feel a headache coming on.
“Why?” he asked, tossing Greg’s head onto the bed and moving over to one of Elle’s
friends.
“Why? Why?” Holly couldn’t believe her ears. Did he not understand that he couldn’t just
simply kill people? “Because you can’t
kill people Adam. It’s wrong.”
Adam grabbed Elle’s friend, coping a feel of one of her breasts. “Oh, I don’t know about that,” he said, his
hand roaming freely over her body.
“Would you prefer me to torture and scar them for life?”
“No!” Holly was surprised at how
forceful her words were. “I want you to
let them go.”
Adam seemed to ponder Holly’s request.
“No,” he said, slicing the girl’s throat with his hunting knife.
Holly’s shoulders shook as she cried.
Adam butchered Elle’s two friends, their bodies unrecognizable, and just
like Greg before them, he cut their heads off, tossing them onto the bed.
His attention turned to Elle who was still bound and gagged on the floor. Her eyes were wide, her cheeks tear
stained.
Adam smiled down at her. “Holly,” he
commanded. “Come here.”
When Holly didn’t move, Adam grabbed her by her hair, dragging her over to
where Elle was. “Seeing as she is your
main tormenter, I think you should do the honors.”
Holly shook her head and began sobbing loudly when Adam pushed the hunting
knife into her hand.
Elle looked up at her, pleading with her eyes.
Holly shook her head, sobbing loudly.
“It’s easy,” Adam said, holding her hand so that it was grasping the
knife. “Just hold it like so, then you
press it up against the flesh.”
Holly stared at him, unable to understand what had gotten into him. He was such a sweet guy when they first met. Now he was a monster. A monster whose actions were usually reserved
for the movie screen.
Her hand curled around the hunting knife.
She felt the handle. It was warm
from where he had been holding it.
“That’s a girl,” he said as he felt her squeeze the handle of the knife. “Now all you need is to slice and dice.” He grabbed a fist full of Elle’s hair, holding
her tight.
Holly looked into Elle’s eyes. The poor,
defenseless cheerleader pleaded with her, her eyes begging to be spared the
same fate that had befallen her friends.
Holding the knife out in front of her, Holly glanced down at the shiny
blade. It was caked in blood of Adam’s
victims.
She glanced up at Adam, a horrifying smile etched on her face. “Hold her tight,” she commanded, her violet eyes
twinkling. Adam obliged, holding Elle so
she was sitting up, her head pulled back so that her neck was exposed.
Letting out a war cry, Holly swung the knife.
She smiled in satisfaction has blood spurted from the open wound and as
Elle dropped to the floor.
Wiggling around, Elle tried to get away.
Holly smiled sadistically as Adam held his throat, blood covering his hands.
“W-w-why?” he asked, dropping to his knees.
Holly grinned. “I told you that you
couldn’t just kill people, Adam,” she said calmly. "Plus, you were a lousy boyfriend. Although I do appreciate you doing all this for me."
Adam’s eyes grew wide as she wielded the knife again, stabbing him numerous times
in the neck and upper torso. When she
was done, she was coated in his blood.
It was only when she heard Elle’s garbled words that Holly came out of her
trance-like state.
She reached down, removing the gag from Elle’s mouth. “Oh thank you,” she cried, gulping down large
quantities of air.
Holly watched as Elle wiggled her fingers.
“Please, untie me,” she said. “Then
we’ll get out of here.”
“No.”
Elle’s eyes widened as Holly stood over her.
“Adam was right about one thing,” she said, her smile turning evil. “I do want my revenge.”
Elle opened her mouth and screamed as, with one swift motion, Holly decapitated
her.
*
* * *
*
As the patrol officer lead Holly away in handcuffs, her smile returned.
“They won’t pick on me now,” she told him as he bundled her into the back of
his car. “I’m finally free.”
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