Lights Out
He turned on the lights.
The shadows in his mind receded.
He turned off the lights.
Her voice returned, ghostly fingers rubbing his cock.
He turned on the lights.
No more pleasure. Loneliness cracked the bedroom window.
He turned off the lights.
She came… and drained… and sucked everything dry.
He smiled in the dark.
Have I told you before I feel things intensely? I believe so but I’m saying it again. I do, and that applies to dreams as well. Having a powerful imagination means having very vivid dreams every now and then. I had one of those last night.
This erotic ghost story is an approximate rendition of it all, at least the details I can still remember. I had a hard time falling asleep afterward but that’s okay for the experience inspired another piece in this challenge. It’s a weird one because everything surrounding its inception was weird as well. I don’t really believe in ghosts and yet it almost felt like there was one in the house. Or maybe it was a Succubus looking for a new prey… my dogs slept through the whole “ordeal” so let’s stick with the dream hypothesis, shall we? I hope you enjoyed it.
Secret Weapon
“They’re coming!” A soldier shouted.
“I told you,” Claire grinned.
“And they can’t stop.”
“Of course not.”
“They’re sitting ducks out there! Attack!” General Murphy ordered.
They were brutal. It was an onslaught. The crazy plan shouldn’t have worked and yet it did, thanks to their secret weapon.
Final Score: Hypnodomme – 1, Alien Invaders – 0.
The sci-fi lover part of me approached the silly part of me with a question: “Do you think we can work together for today’s challenge piece?”. The silly part of me scratched its non-existent beard and replied: “Sure, but I get to write most of it, including the descriptive paragraph at the end of it. The sci-fi lover part of me agreed because all it wanted was an excuse to talk about aliens again and, after throwing the word up in the air, laid back and allowed the silly part of me to take control, but I’m pretty sure you had that figured out by now.
No. 5, 2018
“This is not art!” Dan smirked.
“What is it then?” Stella queried.
“Random brush strokes. I could do this with my eyes closed!”
“They already are…” she cooed.
He tried to open them, to no avail. Her voice painted spirals in his mind as he sank into surrender. Another fine addition to her ever-growing collection.
If you’re familiar with art history, the title of today’s story may seem somewhat familiar. If not, allow me to elaborate. This piece was partially inspired by Jackson Pollock’s painting No. 5, 1948, represented in the featured image above.
This is one of those pieces I just don’t get, and yet there’s something about the chaos of it all that appeals on some primeval level. I can also visualize quite easily it being used as a focal point for an induction, for instance, asking the subject to follow the yellow outlines from left to right or to number just how many colors and variations of them are present as his mind slowly goes blank…
I suppose it was this line of reasoning that ended up being the basis for the final result. The title has a double meaning obviously, as it references the original painting as well as Stella’s collection. Do you wish to be her number 6 of the year?
Diva
Brian looked at the list of demands.
“Mandarin coriander candles, twenty bottles of Cabernet Sauvignon, and a dozen hypnotized slaves who love anal sex? What?”
The pop star gazed at his erection and chuckled.
“Twelve may be a bit too much so I’ll settle for one.”
Neither one left her dressing room for a week.
Earlier in the morning, I found myself reading an article about strange demands made by artists and quickly came to the realization that I had never explored the subject in one of these. That was pretty much the only motivation I needed to go for it in a dirty, yet humorous way. If it weren’t for the strict word limit, I would have definitely gone for more outlandish requests before delivering the final blow but rules and rules and they must be obeyed. Do you like to obey, too? 😉