Loinclothslave
slave to the whip
Wow! Such cliffhangers, it’s like you had this serialised already! Working so well as 1,000 word bites… I’m on the edge of my seat with anticipation! Just imagine if we hadn’t known the outcome? Wow!
Thank you, L. Glad the shorter bites are working for you, and thanks for the excellent advice in that regard.Wow! Such cliffhangers, it’s like you had this serialised already! Working so well as 1,000 word bites… I’m on the edge of my seat with anticipation! Just imagine if we hadn’t known the outcome? Wow!
Fiction Writing 101 - Lesson 1, Hour 1, Minute 1 >>>>> REVERSALWonderful stuff! And given that the final whistle hasn't yet sounded, I am guessing we might just possibly have time for one final twist in the scoreline ...
Yep ... I got that my friendFiction Writing 101 - Lesson 1, Hour 1, Minute 1 >>>>> REVERSAL
Hope springs eternal .."But the other team is still going to win, right?" I asked.
Americans tend to like games that are just complicated enough that they can seem like a genius because they can explain the arcane rules.Honestly, I've never known such a complicated bloody game! Good job I was 100% focused only on the outcome
And that is it’s inherent beauty. I often say one can argue that American Football is the Cricket of the football codes. It lasts longer, it’s rule set is more bizarre, and the tension builds wonderfully.Honestly, I've never known such a complicated bloody game! Good job I was 100% focused only on the outcome
I've never thought of it like that, L, but that makes a great deal of sense!I often say one can argue that American Football is the Cricket of the football codes.
Was at the Rugby League yesterday Loin to watch Leeds Rhinos beat Warrington 26-24. Great game ... given the nature of the score's tooing and froing right to the end it would have made a wonderful game of jeopardy...And that is it’s inherent beauty. I often say one can argue that American Football is the Cricket of the football codes. It lasts longer, it’s rule set is more bizarre, and the tension builds wonderfully.
Who doesn’t love an all or nothing “safety” play? They should bring that in for Rugby league too!
Great chapter, @BEThalia
I forgot how civilised you really are - to love both Cricket AND Rugby League! You’re a treasure, it’s a pity you’re English!Was at the Rugby League yesterday Loin to watch Leeds Rhinos beat Warrington 26-24. Great game ... given the nature of the score's tooing and froing right to the end it would have made a wonderful game of jeopardy...
"Strip." - short, sharp instruction. The epitome of control. Should be followed by Paul adding ... "Now ...!"Chapter Four (Part 1 of 3)
At 2:50 the next afternoon I parked my car. Dorm residents were not allowed to have cars on campus, so there was no lot at the dorm. I had to leave my car at the music building a couple hundred yards away. I deposited my keys in the little clutch purse I had brought and got out.
After the game, Patrick and I and our friends had gone for dinner and then hung out for much of the evening. When Patrick took me home he pointedly asked if he should come in. I had to lie to him for what is the only occasion that readily comes to mind. I told him I very much wanted him to come in. That was the truth. But I also told him I was feeling headachy and crampy from what I assumed was my imminent period. I felt bad about the falsehood, but that didn’t stop me from embellishing it with some bullshit about being resigned to a scorching night in the sack with a hot water bottle and some Midol.
Here's the thing about menstrual periods: they are messy; they are inconvenient; they are at best uncomfortable and at worst downright painful, on occasion even incapacitating. But it isn’t all down side. The fact of their existence – let’s just be totally honest here for a moment, shall we? – can sure come in real handy from time to time regardless of whether or not at that particular moment any blood-engorged uterine lining is actually engaged in the process of gravity-assisted sloughing. My hurling two hot dogs all over the football field grandstand helped sell my fabrication. I felt fine. I just wanted to have the resolution of this bet - now there’s a big, ripe euphemism for being obligated to fuck and blow two nineteen-year-old boys - in the past before I consummated my sexual relationship with Patrick. So, I begged off, suggesting we wait a few days or a week. Patrick, true to his sweet nature, put me and my feelings (however dodgy they might happen to have been on this particular occasion) first.
I had spent much of the night and Sunday morning debating with myself about just not showing up. It was so, so tempting. But I knew I was just entertaining myself with a hypothetical. I think that, like most people, I am fundamentally honest. I could play mental games all I wanted to, but I could never negate the fact that I willingly had made the bet, had agreed to the terms, and that I would have gleefully, enjoyably, boastfully, and without even the tiniest inkling of guilt collected from the boys had I won. There was no way they could make me pay off, just as there was no way I could do the same had I won. But I would have felt great guilt and would have difficulty in living with myself if I didn’t honor my commitment. The derisive ridicule, the snide comments, the outright mocking the boys would heap on me every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon would be nothing compared to the low opinion I would have of myself. So, I was here and I was paying off. I couldn’t imagine how I would ever find myself in a more humiliating and degrading situation, but I was consenting to paying off and enduring the pain, the shame, and the unimaginable disgrace.
As I walked toward the dorm, I felt like I was walking to my execution. In a few minutes I would be stripping in front of the boys, showing them my naked body, opening my mouth and my legs for their pleasure. The tension of the bet: between humiliation on the one hand and entertainment and vindication on the other had been resolved in favor of humiliation. My humiliation.
The dorm was constructed in a shape suggesting two sides of a square, equally long. On the inside of the square there were a couple hundred kids. It seemed like they were having an impromptu victory celebration. This was the only dorm on our small campus, four stories tall. The only other on-campus housing consisted of some apartments for married students.
I would never get to satisfy my curiosity about whether winning the bet and humiliating the boys would get me hot, but I now knew losing the bet was a complete non-starter. In fact, I was all but terrified. All my bravado of a few days ago was gone.
I was walking up stairs now, going to get fucked by two boys at once. I'd had my share of relationships. I enjoy sex. But having two hard dicks in me at once was never on my agenda, something I had never been remotely curious about. The fact of the two dicks was bad enough, but that I was a twenty-five-year-old woman who would soon be getting those dicks from a couple of nineteen-year-olds made it worse. To make it as bad as it could possibly get, the final indignity, I would be taking those two dicks in a dorm room!
Anyway, I was frankly scared and mortified that I had to do this, and I was as far from turned on as I could be. Their room was on the top floor, and before I went to it I stopped by the Ladies and applied lubricating gel very generously all along my labia and into my vagina.
Paul answered the door and told me they were extremely glad to see me. An NFL game was on the television. Hank switched it off. I put my clutch bag down on a chair near the door, wandered over to the room's sole window and looked out. Their room was on the inside of the angle, and I gazed out at all the kids gathered below me, more drifting in all the time. Freshman year, six years ago, I had lived in this building on the second floor. I turned back to the room, not quite sure what to do.
Hank supplied direction. "So, yo, Roberta, hi!" he said. "Strip."
God, I thought, it's starting. This is reality now.
"Strip." - short, sharp instruction. The epitome of control. Should be followed by Paul adding ... "Now ...!"
And so here we go ...
It wasn't a suggestion, more just me thinking out loud. Your story is your story... I have no intention of getting in the way ...I appreciate the suggestion, Fossy, but I'd never considered going in that direction.
This is new territory for all of them, and while I think your take on it works for a lot of situations and characters this just isn't one of them. It makes them sound too in control, as if this is a dominant situation that is business as usual for them. But that's not the case. They're just a couple of goofy kids (running around doing improvised Laurel & Hardy routines!) who have no more experience with something like this than does Roberta and perhaps who realize just how lucky they've gotten.
That's my take on the scene and the characters anyway.
Just wanted to respond in some way, Fossy, so I thought I'd address it from the viewpoint of why I wrote the end of the scene the way I did.It wasn't a suggestion, more just me thinking out loud. Your story is your story... I have no intention of getting in the way ...