Overview

Just One Night She woke slowly, the kind of waking that slowly brought the quiet realization that this wasn’t her bed. Again. The sheets smelled like him, clean cotton and something woodsy, maybe cedar or that cologne she once teased him for using too sparingly. Her legs were tangled in his, and the faint weight of his arm curved around her waist. Sunlight sliced through the curtains and painted soft shadows across the room. She didn’t need to look around to know where she was. She knew this pillow, this mattress, that tiny, chipped mug with something green half-clinging to life on his windowsill. She was back. Again. Goddammit. It had started on New Year’s Eve. A glittering party, too much wine, and the monolith of that stupid moment at midnight when everyone turned to someone, everyone, towering over her. She knew she'd be clutching her champagne flute with a forced smile as everyone else around her found somebody. But with only twenty minutes to go, he’d found her, laughing, eyes bright. “Guess it’s just us,” he’d said, and she’d laughed too. “You realize we’re going to have to kiss someone at midnight, right?” She told him, “don’t look at me like I’m your charity case.” He had laughed. “Please. You’d be the upgrade.” She’d told herself it was harmless. They flirted like that all the time, ever since that late night when they shared a cab home. He was safe, smart, funny, and clearly not into her. That made it easy, which made it fun. But one joke turned into a another and then a second drink, which turned into teasing banter and flirty smiles that weren’t serious… until suddenly they were. “I’m serious,” he’d said, leaning just a little closer. “You’re kind of amazing.” She had raised her brow, a classic gesture, half denial, half flirting. “You’ve had three glasses of cheap champagne.” “And I stand by my drunken, overly romantic opinion.” She should have walked away. She should have laughed and joined everyone on the dance floor, but instead she’d said, “Well, if I’m amazing… maybe I should be the one choosing you.” He froze, and something in his smile turned. “I wish you would.” That had been the moment, the tightrope between joking and real, and she had stepped directly into it. But she had been laughing, and flushed, and suddenly warm all over, and when the countdown hit ten and he reached for her, she didn’t stop him. It felt less like falling and more like surrendering to something that had always been there, just waiting for the right midnight. She didn't remember how they had ended up at his apartment. Something about just one night, and no need to be alone, and damned if she hadn't wanted him more in that moment than anything else. They had stumbled through his door like a cliché, still dressed for the party, barely making it to the bedroom. It had been incredible. Not just good, not just satisfying, but the kind of sex that ruins you a little for everyone else. He’d been responsive, generous, and devastatingly intuitive. She had never felt so... wanted, so seen. And in the morning, before he stirred, she’d slipped out like a thief, her heels in hand and shame chasing her down the stairs. One night, she had reminded herself. That’s all it was. But then she’d laid awake every night, thinking of him, remembering that night, touching herself and never coming close to how she felt with him. She’d seen him at work, because of course they worked in the same damn building. He’d given her time and distance, just a simple text. I won’t push but if you ever want to talk or just want to come back I’ll be here. No questions, no pressure. Of course she had wanted to reply, but she didn’t, at least not right away. But eventually she did… just a friendly acknowledgement. It would have been rude to leave his message unanswered. That was all it took to start a string of texts that were supposed to be friendly but always ended with ellipses, unspoken somethings. Soon there were late-night phone calls when she couldn’t sleep. She resisted, she really did... until she didn’t. That night she sent a curious you up? that turned into can I come over? And now, two weeks later, she was waking up in his bed again, his arm around her like it belonged there. She closed her eyes and let herself feel the quiet ache of wanting. It wasn’t just the sex, though yes, the sex was still incredible, unfairly so, but it was everything else. The way he looked at her like he knew what she was thinking. The easy laughter. The stillness when he just listened. It was too much. Is this love? she wondered, or is it just that he’s the best thing I’ve had in a long time? She didn’t know. But when he stirred beside her, sleepy and warm and already smiling against her skin, she didn’t get up and sneak out. She snuggled back into him and let herself think, at least for a moment, that maybe this might be something after all.

Evening loom over the city. The excitement of new year has long gone, as quick as it comes. The rush hour on the streets once again fill the urban sighting, reminding us where we belong. The hurried pedestrian come in an out of subway, eager to reach their homes, and some, the embrace of a family. Skies remain dull, as if it reflects on the urban living beneath. But it doesn’t compare to a lady who walk somewhat in slow pace amidst rushing pedestrian. Lanna is in deep thought. Not about her work, it was alright. Not about dinner either, someone already on it at home. The concern that bother her mind Is the very person who cook the dinner tonight. Mieli. Since she moving in with her, she handle most of the chore at her place. Laundry? Mieli got it covered. Cooking? Say any menu and she would try her best to get it ready on the table, piping hot. Lanna told her there’s no need for that but Mieli insist that she feel restless if she not doing anything at home. Though Lanna appreciate the girl resourcefulness, she didn’t let her move in with her just to play maid. So a week before new year, Lanna decide that she plan to put actual spark in their new relationship. The problem is, Lanna is somewhat stiff for a partner and Mieli is pretty much her yes-woman; she never objects or throw suggestion that would sounds against her idea. But Lanna want this to work. But now a week has passed, and today mark the middle of the January on calendar, yet she still not manages to put more color in their relationship. It’s annoying, should she give up? But she already promised Mieli and the girl told her she wants to see where this would go. As cringe as it can get, she just can’t bear the sight of those hopeful eyes become dull with disappointment. Mieli just had this aura about her. Not that Mieli is a pushover let alone spoiled person mind you. “I should’ve ask her out” she said. But where to? They already visit pretty much dating spot in this city. Lanna schedule is pretty much tight this month so going away from town is not the option on the table right now. “Maybe…I should make dinner for her this time?” She thought but the last time she cooks, it only inconvenience Mieli “I almost burn her tongue with that pasta…” Lanna grumbled. Before she know it, she is already in front of her apartment door. She knocked in which Mieli open the door, greeting her with the same smile, same familiarity…yet always gives different kind of warmth inside. Lanna just walk past her and laid on the couch, sighing as she throws her bag away. “Long day at work?” Mieli said. “Same as always...different days…” Lanna said. Mieli smiled and ask if she want to eat something specific. “I thought you already made one” Lanna said. Mieli sheepishly replied, “usually yes, but maybe this year, I should let you choose rather than shoot in the blind”. Lanna tilt her head, “what gives? It’s not like you ever burn the kitchen or make any weird food since you move in”. Mieli chuckled before she replied, “I decide to play as full time housewife for you this year”. Lanna went quiet. Housewives? Was that her resolution? Before Lanna ask if Mieli is teasing her, the girl speak up first. “I admit; it was a challenge. Usually I would wake up early to prepare breakfast and bath, now I tried to wake at same time as you do. Oh and I did think about calling you while at work but…I got cold feet because I might bother you”. She then added, “I even had trouble on how should I greet you when you come home. I mean, no way a housewife would greet their lover with a deep bow like a servant”. Lanna wasn’t sure how to put this. “Mieli, isn’t it too much of a stretch for a new year resolution? You can just settle in with learning new recipe or getting a better gig to pay our rent” she told the girl. Mieli sighed, “after hearing your resolution, I decide to make it my goal too. Don’t get me wrong, I like how things are between us. But…is it weird if I want us to be more…bold?”. Now that got Lanna thinking. For once, Mieli act without permission. Usually she always throw a thought to Lanna. There’s even at one point she ask Lanna if she could go ahead to sleep before her. Regardless, Lanna is now aware she’s not alone with the thought of how to make more spark in their relationship. Funny because turn out, they both had trouble fulfilling it. Since Lanna don't have any suggestion in mind, she decide to give Mieli some slack. “We could” Lanna said “maybe this is the spark we’re looking for” but then she added, “what if we jinx it?" Mieli smile remain etched to her face, “If it were, I’m sure it’s for a good reason”. Lanna couldn't argue with that, "Then let's make it count" As gentle embrace wrapped around Lanna, Mieli voice welcome her in new form of love. “Thank you. And welcome home, darling…”

...and Challenge 48 is posted!

THE CHALLENGE It's a little late, so maybe making resolutions and New Year's parties are past us, but... what about trying to keep the resolution two weeks in? What about fallout from the party? the unintended kiss? the celebration that turned far more intimate than planned? For this challenge, write about a character dealing with something leftover from New Year's Eve. Perhaps they made a resolution they're having trouble keeping. Perhaps a kiss, promise, or dare took them somewhere they never thought they'd go and now they're weighing their plans vs. this new reality. Perhaps they made a bet and now they have to pay up. Limitless possibilities... Deadline Midnight (EST) Saturday 24 Jan, 2026 Limits 1 entry per person keep it around 2,000 words, no penalty for going a little over but remember, everyone has to read these to vote Prizes 1st Place: 4,000 EcchiCredits 2nd Place: 2,000 EcchiCredits 3rd Place: 1,000 EcchiCredits

The poll is up for Challenge 47!

I know I should've had something done sooner, especially considering the much more generous time frame, but I have an actual excuse this time. I had 3 different ideas I was juggling around in my head for about 2 weeks now, but because I've had to divide my focus on the extreme levels of card and rank grinding I have to do for Persona 2 Innocent Sin and my ever cripplingly low self-esteem put it on the bench for a while. However, with the time limit fast approaching (and me forcing myself to get off my lazy ass and get something written before the last minute like always), here we are. Will I ever say what those other ideas I was juggling around were? Probably not. They weren't all that interesting, anyway, at least in my opinion. As a side note, I do know that smut isn't required this time. I guess one could argue I'm still using the "using it as practice" excuse or you could also argue I'm making up for avoiding the smutty ideas from last year's Kinktoberfest like they were a nasty virus or something. Also, procrastination station happened yet again AND I went over the 2k word limit. As always, I had to rush, so I finished at...about 2 PM EST. I am going to bedge now. Good night. Drew had hoped to finally relax after finishing his latest mission. Even though it was almost Christmas, all he wanted to do was sleep in for a couple of days and let the holiday pass him by. However, when he returned to his apartment... "What the hell is this?" the man said to himself. Sitting in the center of his living room was a massive present, carefully wrapped up with bright red wrapping paper and tied with a massive pink ribbon. He knew that he had locked his apartment before leaving, but as he thought of any other possibilities, one particular person came to his mind. "If anything, something this stupid would be her idea. Otherwise, it's a trap," Drew said out loud as he glared at the large present. As a member of the secret magical organization, Paradox, Drew did have a number of enemies who'd pay to see him dead. He had grown to become a lot more cautious over the years because of attempts on his life by those enemies. In hopes of testing his theory, he decided on a simple test. "Well, look at this! A weird box! If there's nothing in it, I may as well destroy it!" Drew called out, hoping to get a response before he followed through with his threat. He got no answers at first, but after a couple of seconds of silence, the top of the present slowly moved and a set of eyes peeked out at him. Drew only stared in silence at the set of eyes looking back at him. Before he could say anything, the person inside the box leaped out as if it was all a part of their plan from the beginning. "Merry Christmas!" the woman who had been inside the large present shouted as the lid of the present flew up and hit the ceiling before carelessly falling to the floor nearby. "Christmas isn't for another two days," Drew pointed out without missing a beat. The pink haired woman stood frozen upon hearing Drew's words before quickly bouncing back and waving a hand around. "That's not important," the woman said as she climbed out of the present. "The important part is-" "What are you even doing here, anyway, Lucy? I thought you were still off on a mission," Drew questioned. cutting the woman off before she could finish. Lucy flashed a confidant smile as she put her hands on her hips and puffed out her chest. "I finished early. When I heard from Irene that you didn't have any Christmas plans, I worked hard to take care of my mission early and came straight here. I wouldn't want my friend to be lonely on Christmas," Lucy replied as she moved closer to Drew. "We're not friends. We're hardly even acquaintances," Drew said. "Aw, don't be that way. You can say that we're friends if you want to. It's just us here, after all," Lucy said, completely ignoring Drew's words as she lightly poked Drew's side with a finger. As much as he didn't wish to admit it, Lucy did have a point about the nature of their relationship. While he wouldn't call her his friend out loud, the two were easily more than just mere acquaintances. Even though he had worked with her on a few jobs and reluctantly shared a bed with her a number of times, Drew wasn't a fan of how she tried to act so familiar with him. At the same time, something about how she simply rammed past his walls drew him to her for reasons he didn't understand. 'Paradox's magic experts do say that magical abilities in humans sometimes have strange effects on their personality. Even so, how did a woman like this make it to the rank of an agent?' Drew thought to himself. As he turned towards Lucy, it was then he finally took notice of her outfit. When she had come out of the present and started rambling about Christmas, he shouldn't have been surprised that she had chosen to wear a red and white outfit similar to the main man of Christmas himself. The outfit itself, however, left a fair amount of skin exposed, despite the season. 'She has to be an idiot or something, dressing up like that,' Drew thought to himself. He stopped when he caught Lucy staring back at him with a grin. "Like what you see? Irene recommended it to me when we went Christmas shopping," Lucy said, moving a finger to her mouth. "You can stare all you want, you know. I don't mind if it's you" "S-shut up, you idiot!" Drew said, quickly looking away from the woman and moving a short distance away from her. Her quiet laugh rang out through the quiet apartment before she quickly changed gears. "But enough about that! Let's go out and see the town. It's been a while since I've visited," Lucy said, walking past Drew and making her way towards the door. "Wait, you're going out dressed like that?" Drew questioned, but by the time he looked towards the door, it had already been opened and the pink haired woman was gone. Drew couldn't help but sigh to himself. "That woman moves at the beat of her own drum. At the very least, she could've worn a coat," he muttered to himself. 'Christmas, huh. Ever since I became an agent of Paradox, I haven't really thought about it all that much. I usually just take on a long job to avoid thinking about it. A lot of agents don't keep much contact with family because of the danger of the job, especially with all this business involving that King guy and his goons. And yet...' A light snow had begun to fall when Drew and Lucy made their way into town. From the main street to local businesses, the town was bustling with the Christmas spirit. Everywhere Drew looked were plenty of decorations. Lucy hung close to him, pointing to anything that caught her interest, from a large gingerbread man in a person's yard to the large, decorated tree at the center of the town's park. "Ordinaries really like their holidays, don't they?" Drew asked in an attempt to make conversation. Lucy frowned and prodded his side with her finger, causing him to jump a bit and move away from her. She quickly closed the distance, looking up at him. "You shouldn't call them that. We used to be like them before, you know. Didn't you used to celebrate holidays like this with your family?" Lucy replied. Drew took a moment to consider Lucy's answer as he looked up at the sky. While he was thinking things over, Lucy smiled and took his hand. "Even though we can't really be with our families without putting them in danger, we could always celebrate the holidays together," she said, flashing Drew a smile. When Drew heard her words and met her eyes, he froze for a moment. In that short moment of time, the sounds of people, the falling snow, and everything else ceased to exist. Drew caught himself and quickly looked away from Lucy, clearing his throat and trying to pretend nothing was happening. "Come on, let's just get going," Drew said in an attempt to deflect from the conversation, pulling Lucy along by the hand with him. The pair's Christmas trip into town took them to several shops for primarily window shopping. Lucy had ended up buying something when Drew wasn't looking and the pair made the walk back towards Drew's apartment. "This is really a nice little town you've been assigned to. I should visit more often," Lucy said. "Please don't. Dealing with you whenever you come storming into my place like you own it is annoying enough, especially when you go deciding to use my shower without asking," Drew replied. "You say that but you;re the one who couldn't help himself that one time." "That's because you threw off your towel and started running around like an idiot." "You didn't seem to mind back then," Lucy said with a grin. Drew had no counterargument, so he instead kept his mouth shut. "Speaking of which, though, think fast!" Lucy added, digging through the bag she was carrying and tossing something out of it. Drew was only able to briefly see the item she threw, but when he tried to reach out and grab it, Lucy made her move. She moved in, wrapping her arms around her neck and connecting her lips with his. Drew's eyes widened as he finally realized what the item she had tossed in his direction had been. Lucy had thrown a fake mistletoe at him, knowing he'd react by trying to catch it. She kept the kiss short, but when she moved away, her face was still incredibly close to Drew's. "You never got me a present, you know," Lucy quietly said. "What are you expecting? I wasn't planning on celebrating Christmas. Besides, I wasn't expecting you to make a surprise appearance," Drew said. "Then you can make it up to me," Lucy replied, leaning in and whispering into Drew's ear. "Besides, I came in that present. You should play with your present. You've been staring at me all afternoon, you know. I bet you've been thinking all sorts of things this whole time." "Why do you get like this at the weirdest times?" Drew muttered. As much as he wanted to deny it, feeling Lucy's warm body pressing up against him was wearing at his mental defenses. Even though he knew better than to play along with her games, seeing the revealing Santa outfit on Lucy had been pushing thoughts into his mind since he saw it. Late that night in Drew's apartment, loud moans rang out from the open door to Drew's bedroom. Lucy lied naked on the bed, her arms and leg tightly wrapped around Drew as his cock pounded her pussy. When the pair had returned to Drew's apartment, it didn't take long for the floodgates to break. Shortly after Lucy had undressed, the pair moved to the living room, where she sat in his lap while he fingered her. At the same time, she had reached between Drew's legs and slowly stroked his cock with her hand. Once Lucy was wet enough, she turned around and lowered herself onto Drew's cock, pressing her bare breasts up against his chest while she moved her hips. Her hands rested on Drew's shoulders as the room filled with the sounds of sex. Before long, Drew came inside her, but one time had hardly been enough to satisfy them. Lucy slowly got off of Drew's lap and moved between his legs, taking his still hard cock into her mouth. She slowly bobbed her head up and down, sometimes pulling his cock out to run her tongue up his full length. When Drew was close again, Lucy would stop and instead shove his cock between her breasts. She flashed a grin as she ran her tongue around his tip, pushing him over his limit and shooting out another load on her face and breasts. From there, they moved to the bedroom, where Lucy pushed Drew onto the bed and straddled him. She took his cock in her hand and slowly lowered herself onto it. A loud moan came out of her mouth as his cock entered her a second time. She put her hands on her chest as she rode him, unable to hold back any sounds coming from her mouth. She leaned in and stone a deep kiss from Drew;s lips, but before she knew it, the man turned the tables on her and she found herself laying on the bed while he towered over her. After a number of thrusts, Drew let out another load inside of Lucy while she let out a loud moan and came herself. Shortly after they had finished, Lucy ended up falling asleep holding onto Drew's arm. Drew tried to shake her awake, but Lucy slept like a log. 'Come to think of it, she said that she finished her mission early and came straight here to do this elaborate present stunt. If I remember correctly, she was sent on an elimination job to deal with some problem King's goons were starting. Did she really pull off the job early just to celebrate Christmas with me? No...that's not possible,; Drew thought, turning his gaze to the sleeping woman. "Why does this always happen, anyway? We always end up having sex whenever you come storming in," Drew said, mostly to himself. Even as he let out a sigh, he slowly moved a stray strand of Lucy's pink out of her face. Watching her sleep peacefully made Drew think back to the past a bit before he lied down and went to sleep. Early the next morning, while Drew was making breakfast, Lucy sat at the table wearing nothing but one of Drew's white button up shirts. She had not bothered to button up the shirt, giving a good view of her chest and stomach. She sat in silence, clearly thinking over something. When the thought came to her, she quickly stood up and walked to the kitchen, where Drew was right in the middle of putting butter on toast. "Hey. so...I kind of forgot to fill out my report for my mission," Lucy suddenly said once she was right next to Drew. The man's hand stopped moving while he turned to Lucy, who looked at him with a "please help me" smile. 'I take back every positive thing I thought about you before. You really are an idiot,' Drew thought to himself. In the end, Drew had spent the day before Christmas having to write Lucy's mission report for her while trying not to be tempted by how she was dressed. All the while, Lucy lied her head on Drew's lap as she recounted her mission. Even as he tried to work, impure thoughts began to run through his mind again. 'I guess it's not the worst thing ever, spending the holidays with someone. Even so, this woman will probably be the end of me at this rate.'

The jingle bells above the door chimed for the thousandth time that day, and Holly, yes, her name was fucking Holly, five feet of fury with blonde curls, wanted to scream. The holiday season at Santa’s Workshop & More was always a special kind of retail hell, but this year? This year, she was pretty sure she’d signed away her soul to corporate Satan himself. The outfit was a crime against humanity: a short flared red “elf” dress with white fur trim that barely covered her ass, candy cane thigh-highs, candy red heels, and a choker with a fucking bell that jingled every time she so much as took a step. As for the earrings, orange pearls that dangled like tiny traffic lights, because nothing said “holiday cheer” like looking like a discount hooker from the North Pole. Holly jabbed at the touchscreen and looked up, glaring at the queue. The line stretched halfway to the back of the store. A writhing, groaning mob of entitled customers armed with coupons and complaints. A last-minute shopper lumbered up to the counter, his arms overflowing with random crap. Video games, dolls, sneakers, a purse, three different kinds of wrapping paper, and a garden gnome. He dumped it all onto the desk like he was feeding a woodchipper. Holly stared. “Sir, you do realize this isn’t a yard sale, right?” The man grinned. “Gotta get it all in one go, sweetheart!” She rolled her green eyes, scanning items as the line grew longer by the minute. Voices rose from further back. "Open another register!" "This is bullshit!" She finished, shoving his receipt at him. “NEXT!” A woman with a "speak-to-the-manager" bob stepped up to the counter, kid in tow, waving a sale tag on a pink sweater like courtroom evidence. The boy immediately whined, "Miss, can I have a candy cane?" “No.” “But…” “No!” The kid burst into tears. His mom shot Holly a glare. “You’re supposed to be nice!” Holly sighed dramatically, her choker jingling like a warning bell as she scanned. "Lady, I get paid minimum wage to dress like a slutty elf and listen to Jingle Bell Rock for the 87th time this week. My ‘nice’ expired three hours ago. That’ll be $39.99." The mom huffed. "Wait. This was on sale last week! The tag says it’s 50% off." Holly exhaled sharply. "The sale ended." "But the tag…" "Ended." "What about the spirit of the season?!" Holly's eye twitched. "What about the spirit of paying for your shit?" The woman gasped, clutching her pearls. "Such appalling language! I demand…" "What?" Holly snapped, voice cracking like a whip. "What do you demand, Karen? That I magic the sale back into existence? Or let me guess…" The woman’s eyes went wide, her mouth hanging open incredulously. "I demand to speak to your manager!" Holly’s last nerve shattered. She grabbed the PA microphone and bellowed, her voice echoing through the store, "NICK! TO THE REGISTERS. NOW." Cheers erupted from the line. Holly turned to see shoppers grinning and snickering, phones out. Holly was about to go viral. The kid pointed at her and giggled, "Mommy, the elf is mad." “Yeah,” Holly muttered, “the elf is fucking over it.” Nick St. Clair, or Santa Nick, as he insisted, strolled up to the register like he owned the place. Which, unfortunately for Holly, he did. Six feet tall, hair and beard dyed white to honor the jolly man himself, cocky smirk, his red suit was open to flaunt an athletic build. But Holly was quite sure the bulge in his pants was an overcompensating pillow. “Ho ho ho,” Nick drawled, clapping his hands together. “What’s the problem here, folks?” Holly crossed her arms, tits straining against the low neckline. “The problem is I’m not paid enough to deal with this circus. This outfit’s humiliating, the music’s torture, and these customers…” "Ah-ah-ah." Nick held up a gloved finger, cutting her off. "Now, Holly, it’s the holiday season. The season of giving. Of joy. Of goodwill toward men." His gaze flicked down to her cleavage, then back up, his smirk growing. "And yet, here you are, spreading anything but." The line erupted. “She’s rude!” “She called me a Karen!” “She won’t give me candy!” Nick tsked. “Now, that’s not very festive, is it?” He turned to the crowd and raised his voice just enough. “Folks, our elf here forgot the number-one rule: keep the North Pole magic alive. Looks like she needs a reminder from Santa himself.” Roars of approval. A man in line laughed, “Finally, some customer service!” A lady sneered, “Put her in her place, Santa!” Holly’s face burned. “Oh, fuck you all…” Nick's hand shot out, grabbing her wrist. "Now, now. The customer is always right." He yanked her from behind the counter and Holly stumbled in her heels. The crowd gathered in a broad circle as he dragged her to the store's center, inflatable snowmen standing witness to her humiliation as Nick took his seat. “Nick, let go, you asshole…” He spun her, bent her over his lap and flipped her dress up. Her bubble butt flashed in black hipsters emblazoned: "SPANK ME! I'm on Santa's Naughty List." Gasps. Laughter. Phones raised. “Oh my God,” Holly groaned, mortified. Nick chuckled. “Looks like someone’s been a very naughty elf this year.” He didn’t wait for a response. His hand cracked against her ass, the sound echoing through the store like a gunshot. Holly yelped, more from shock than pain. SMACK. SMACK. SMACK. “Count them, Holly,” Nick ordered, his voice dripping with amusement. “Fuck you!” she snapped. SMACK. “One!” She winces. SMACK. “Two!” SMACK. “Three!” The crowd chanted as her ass already started to show a touch of pink: "Naughty elf! Naughty elf!" Nick spanked her until her ass was Christmas red, then finally stopped. Holly was kicking her heels and gritting her teeth, trying to preserve what was left of her dignity, even as her face was red with rage and humiliation. Her voice was higher by the end. SMACK! “Forty-eight!” SMACK! Forty-nine! SMACK! Fifty! Nick finally stopped and Holly stood, rubbing her stinging ass through the fabric. "Now, Holly, are you ready to apologize to our valued customers?" Holly gritted her teeth. "Go to hell." Nick sighed, "Well. Since you’re still not getting into the spirit, maybe a big candy cane will cheer you up." He unbuckled. The crowd cheered. Holly tried to pull away, “Nick, this isn’t funny…” “On your knees, little ho ho ho.” Holly hesitated, every eye was on her, phones recording. "Ugh, fine!" Then she sank to the tile. His cock sprang free. Ten thick, veiny, throbbing inches. Holly’s eyes widened, mouth watering despite herself. "Holy shit." Mariah Carey's "All I Want for Christmas Is You" started blaring for the fourth time that day. Holly gave an annoyed moan and bit her lip, “Perfect timing…” She decided to reclaim some control with a little bit of teasing. Her tongue darted out, tracing the tip slowly. Another lick. The crowd oohed, Nick's breath hitched. I don't want a lot for Christmas… There is just one thing I need… She kissed along the shaft, red lips leaving glossy marks. She set the pace, swirling her tongue around the head before stroking the shaft and sucking on his heavy “Santa sack”. I just want you for my own More than you could ever know She gave a long lick from base to tip and then took him into her mouth, bobbing her pretty pointy-eared head. Nick threw his head back with pleasure and groaned. The crowd leaned in. Holly looked up at him mischievously, slapping the bulbous head on her tongue. Make my wish come true All I want for Christmas is you The song picks up with the bouncy rhythm and sound of the jingle bells, Nick’s hand fisting her golden curls as he smacks her face with his hefty manhood. It spanned the length of her face. “You are such a brute.” “Open wide,” Nick ordered. Holly glared up at him, “You’ve got to be—GLUCK!” The plum-shaped head smashed through her pout, hitting her throat and the bell on her choker jingled in rhythm with Mariah’s sleigh bells. Someone pushes through the crowd, “Hey, I just got here. What’s going…” I don't want a lot for Christmas There is just one thing I need (and I) SLURP! JINGLE! DROOL! JINGLE! GAG! JINGLE! GLUCK! JINGLE! Holly’s eyes watered. The bell on her choker jingled in sync with the music, a parody of holiday cheer. Her red lipstick smeared in messy rings around his shaft, marking her “progress” as she took him deeper. The crowd cheered as Nick pummelled her face. Tears rolled, mascara smudging and her hands found his thighs to steady herself while the shoppers egged him on. “Make her choke!” “Fuck her face, Santa!” “Elf abuse!” I just want you for my own More than you could ever know Nick grinned, holding Holly’s hair back, the irritable sales assistant closing her eyes in acceptance of her punishment. “That’s it. Take it like a good little elf.” COUGH! JINGLE! GLARG! JINGLE! GHK! JINGLE! OGK! JINGLE! Holly’s throat was raw. Her nose ran. Her full lips stretched around the comically thick cock. She tried to pull back, but Nick held her still. A woman sighed, “Poor girl. That cock is much too large for her.” Oh-oh, all the lights are shining so brightly everywhere (so brightly, baby) And the sound of children's laughter fills the air (oh, oh, yeah) AGKH! JINGLE! UGH! JINGLE! HORK! JINGLE! SPLORCH! JINGLE! Nick’s grip tightened, his breaths coming faster. Holly’s vision blurred, her lips swollen. And then. “FUCK!” Nick growled and slammed home. Holly’s eyes opened and rolled back as she took him balls-deep, his cock pulsing hard as he emptied his “gift” down her throat. Thick. Salty. Endless. Holly’s throat worked, swallowing around him. A man smirked, “Definitely a white Christmas for her!” All I want for Christmas is you, baby All I want for Christmas is you, baby GULP… GULP… GULP… GULP… GULP… GULP… The crowd exploded in cheers. Holly’s cheeks hollow as Nick withdraws his cock, her lips releasing the head with a satisfying, wet POP! Holly collapsed back on her heels, gasping. She coughed, her throat destroyed, her chest heaving. Holly stared up at him, her mouth hanging open with equal parts submission and disbelief, spit and cum stretching from her bottom lip to his cock in a glistening bridge. Snot leaked from one nostril, a glistening bubble in the other, her crying face a beautiful wreck as she caught her breath. Nick zipped up, smirking. “Now… is there something you’d like to say to everyone?” “Okay, okay! You win.” Holly wiped her mouth, her voice a hoarse rasp. “I… I’m really sorry, everyone. For my attitude.” The store roared. Nick offered her a hand, helping her up as she muttered, “I quit.” The boss just smirked. “No, you don’t because you’re a broke college student.” He leaned down, his voice a whisper. “Besides. Don’t think I didn’t notice that wet spot on your panties.” Holly’s cheeks burned hotter than her spanked ass. The crowd dispersed, some patting her on the back, others snickering as they walked away. “Go get yourself cleaned up and after closing, I’ll let you sit on Santa’s lap." Nick chuckled, "Oh, what fun it is to ride.” Holly wanted to slap him. She wanted to scream. She wanted to burn this store to the ground. But she just rolled her eyes with a snarl and quipped back, "Guess I’m so nice, Santa’s coming twice." Because he was right. She was a broke college student. And fuck, her pussy was throbbing.

Fingertips read you, Unbinding the seams, blurring us Where our lipstick smears.

Why am I currently in love with Emily in Paris?

Secret Santa by StarlitSiren Harper had been at Smart and Co’s New York location for almost a year now, as secretary under the managing director. Smart and Co were an accounting firm with their fingers in business’s all over America, and with Christmas fast approaching, the entire office was in full holiday spirits, with every employee prepping for their last day of the festive season. Every employee. Except Harper. “Fuck-“ she wailed again. “Fuck-Fuck!” “Breathe deep,” Isla- her personal agony aunt at the firm- told her fauxx soothingly, clitter-clattering her way through the report on her desk without a care. “Maybe he won’t mind.” “How will he not mind?” Harper snapped. “This fucking office is like Whoville, and I do NOT want to be its Grinch.” Today had been the secret Santa gift exchange and- surprise surprise- Harper was this year’s idiot who had forgotten. There was always one. “Then just fucking blow him or something!” Isla snapped, still working her report. “I swear, you’re making this so much bigger than it needs to be.” Harper felt as if she had been slapped with the ferocity of that retort, and she watched Isla rise from her office chair to march out of their shared space, towards the printing room. Harper watched her go, speechless… not at the gall of it, rather… ‘No, no, that’s crazy,’ Harper thought, even as she stalked towards the bathroom and shut the door behind her. ‘What kind of girl would even do that?’ she wondered, even as she inspected herself in the mirror. She was short at 5’2, with golden blonde hair from a bottle that was presently tied up in a smart pony tail. Her eyes were a pale blue, and… well she worked out, enough to keep in shape, and men were… well, men, so maybe… “Fuck it-“ Harper said out loud. “Fuck it!” and again, and flushing a furious scarlet, she stomped out to the office, dug the label ‘To Julian, from Santa,’ And- after some quick thinking- made a reservation for the forth floor conference room, marked the meeting as ‘private’ and dashed upstairs, pulling the blinds and locking the door. ‘This is insane,’ She thought, even as she was thumbing an e-mail on her phone to Julian. Julian Carvallo worked in HR, but career disaster this might have been with anyone else, this particular married man had made eyes at her on more than a few occasions. And it’s not like Harper wasn’t looking for another job anyway, so- Another several minutes later there came a rap at the door, and Harper hurriedly unlocked it, ushered him in mid-greeting, and locked the door again. Whatever professional ‘Hello’ the handsome Costa-Rican had in mind for her had been lost on his tongue… Probably because in the few minutes he had taken to get here, Harper had stripped down to her too-small lacy bra and matching thong. Her clothing lay forgotten on the table, and the only other thing she wore was that little label. “Merry Christmas-“ She sang stupidly, and immediately regretted it, feeling herself flush crimson all over again. “I, uh-“ She felt herself cross her arms over her chest. “Sooo- I’m your, um-“ “I just can’t believe you didn’t wait for me to unwrap you,” was all he said in response, smiling at her from beneath those smouldering brown eyes, like the cockiest bastard in the world. “Always knew you were that kind of girl?” ‘What the fuck is that supposed to mean?’ she almost snapped, though realization quickly sunk in that- yes- she was almost nude in the office, here to proposition HR for a secret Santa present. Huh. She was that kind of girl. “Just- shut up, it’s the fucking season of giving!” she retorted. Why was this so awkward? Smutty stories always made it seem so fucking easy. ‘Be confident,’ she told herself firmly. ‘Confidence.’ “Now, you want your present?” “Oh, badly.” Julian closed the gap, wrapping his strong arms around her and whirling Harper around away from the door, perching her bottom on the edge of the conference table. He kissed her fiercely, lips and tongue and teeth, and Harper found her breath catching in her throat as Julian’s hands were everywhere. “Oh fuck-“ Harper managed. “I-“ she groaned as her colleague’s tongue traced a long, lingering trail along her neck. “I… wait-“ The beautiful man obediently pulled back, eyes questioning, and Harper rapidly- and utterly without grace- clambered up atop the table and laid down on her front, yanking at his trousers. “I, uh- your present-“ Still there was a slight look of confusion on his face. “I’m sucking your dick you idiot!” That wasn’t too vague a hint for him, at least, and Julian helped fumble with his belt, freeing his manhood from the confines of fabric between the pair. When Harper gasped when she saw it, it wasn’t because it was huge or any shit like that- though Julian was packing pretty well, that she had to grant the guy- it was the reality of this entire fucking thing sinking in. Julian watched her expectantly, and the blonde ‘not that kind of girl’ shuffled closer to plant a delicate kiss on his cock. A delicate kiss that turned into another, and another, more hungry, until she took him in her mouth. He moaned as her warm mouth engulfed ins dick, and that made Harper moan. Welp, if she got fired for this, maybe she could add ‘Oral Expert’ to her resume. With every bob of her head, she took him a little deeper, always maintaining a comfort level short of gagging, but with every little drop further onto Julian, he became more frantic. Minutes passed with no sound but for the moaning and the soft slurping sounds of her present, then some base instinct kicked in, and one of Julian’s hands roughly grabbed her by the ponytail, yanking her hard onto his cock. She gagged on him, felt tears well in her eyes, but surrendered control. He thrust into her mouth, each push coming closer to her limit, and somewhere within another minute she felt a hot, salty feeling explode upon her tongue. The grip on her hair loosened, and Julian pulled out, panting in exhaustion as his cum dribbled down her chin. “Happy-Christmas-“ she managed weakly. Julian just laughed, tucking himself away… but before he could reply, the unmistakable sound of the door unlocking as it opened inwards to the scene. There, framed in the Doorway, Damien Wood. Her manager. “Boss, it’s not what it-“ Julia began. “Get out of here- now- and say nothing,” Wood barked. Julian paused only a moment before retreating, tail between his legs, and shutting the door behind him. Mr Wood locked up again, turning back to the humiliated Harper… and pointing a finger to the corner of the ceiling . She turned her head, dread settling in at the realisation… and saw a camera watching the conference room. “It’s off now-“ Mr Wood assured her. “…and I’ve got the only copy secured in my office.” Stupid as Harper felt in the moment. Even she could connect those dots. So… fuck it. “Merry Christmas, then.” She told him sheepishly, and wiped the mess from her chin as her boss began to yank his pants down.

THE CHALLENGE We're going straight into our holiday season challenge! Write anything inspired by the season and/or seasonal celebrations. You've got 3 weeks! Deadline Midnight (EST) Saturday 20 Dec, 2025 Limits 1 entry per person keep it around 2,000 words, no penalty for going a little over but remember, everyone has to read these to vote Prizes 1st Place: 4,000 EcchiCredits 2nd Place: 2,000 EcchiCredits 3rd Place: 1,000 EcchiCredits

A longtime private roleplay partner had a bad bout of writer's block and I suggested maybe try to write a haiku as a way to work through it. It's a constrained art form with clear, easy rules, which kind of sketches in a framework on the blank page. Sometimes that kind of new way to look at a problem (thank you, Brian Eno and your Oblique Strategies) can help a creative stall. What emerged has been actually a really fun, occasionally very sexy, series of haiku. I thought it might be fun to open the game to everyone. Only rule is, 5 syllables, 7 syllables, 5 syllables and follow on in some way from the previous post ★★★ Touch of a soft breath Goosebumps raise on bare skin Arousal begins

Me, 2 days ago: "Ok, we're not going to procrastinate this time. We're going to get this done before the deadline." Also me, on the day of the deadline at 12:24 PM: "...Welp, at least it's done. Even if I had to rush the end a lot." In my original outline, I was planning on adding in a second girl who had a crush on Seth and gives him a bit of "extra service" before the classroom meeting which was already planned. Because I slacked off insanely hard and rushed to finish, that part will likely sit in purgatory for the forseeable future. 'It's hard to believe it's only been a year since graduation. With everything that happened since then, it's felt like an eternity. And yet, even after that time, I end up back in this town. I don't know whether to thank the chief or punch him when I get back tonight for this.' A lone figure walked among a large crowd of people. All of them were heading for the same destination, the school festival of Ravenwood Academy, held twice a year. Apparently, it was a chance for the students to show off their creativity before the long school year got into full swing. A tall, black haired man hung in the back of the crowd, carefully observing the area around him. Due to a number of circumstances, he had been shipped out of town the day after his graduation ceremony from the very same school whose festival he was now heading towards. After a long, long year, he had finally returned, but he was no longer the same as in his school days. Unlike the rest of the crowd, a sheathed sword was at his belt, getting him a number of looks from the students at the front gates. He had gotten express approval to bring the weapon, under the condition he didn't draw the blade for any reason in public spaces. As he walked past the decorated front gates and onto the campus, he spotted a number of stalls lining the area. From food and drinks to games someone would usually find at a festival, all run by the students. 'It's almost funny how normal it is,' Seth thought to himself as he wandered around. His childhood friend was supposed to have been meeting him when he arrived, but she was nowhere to be found. While the two of them were the same age, she had ended up missing a large number of days of school due to a family situation and ended up being held back a year. While he didn't exactly know how, she had managed to get into contact with his superior and invited Seth to attend the school festival. Even so... "She's late," Seth said out loud to himself. He could feel the eyes of passerby on him as he stood around. A part of him was considering going off and looking for his friend on his own until he spotted a familiar, brown haired girl running from outside the school's main building. When she came running towards him, Seth moved out of the way through instinct, causing the girl to fall onto the ground. "You really need to be more careful, Nadia," Seth said, extending a hand for the girl and helping her on her feet. Upon closer inspection, he noticed the girl had not been wearing the academy's uniform, but was instead dressed up as a maid. "Why do you always do that, Senpai? I was just going to give you a hug," Nadia said, glaring at him with her cheeks puffed. "You should know better than throwing yourself at someone in public like that," Seth replied. After a short pause, he gave the pouting girl a smile. "It's been a while, though, Nadia. It's good to see you're doing well," he said. For a moment, Seth watched as the look on his friend's face changed, like she wanted to ask him about what had happened to him after graduation, but just as quickly, she flashed a bright smile. "Of course! I'm not the same girl I was last year, after all. Now, come on. We've got a whole festival to explore. You're free until tonight, right?" Nadia said, leaning in close to Seth and taking one of his hands. As she pulled him on ahead towards the school, a thought ran through his mind to last year, shortly before his graduation. Throughout that day, Nadia led Seth all around Ravenwood Academy, showing off the various stalls and attractions the student body had prepared. Among them, Nadia's own class was doing a cafe, an idea that had been primarily suggested by the guys in her class. At no point did she ask Seth any questions about where he had been or what he was doing since he vanished. Meanwhile, Seth listened to Nadia rant on about how hard the work was to get certain things approved and prepared for the festival. It reminded him of his own time at school and how much work was put into preparing for the school festival. Students of Ravenwood Academy were usually studying hard for most of the year, making the school festival a time for the students to unwind, especially for those preparing for college entrance exams. "I haven't really thought about college yet," Nadia said during a conversation the pair was in the middle of. They had picked up some sandwiches from a stall and took a seat on a bench outside, watching students and families pass by. "You've had plenty of time to consider it," Seth shot back, but Nadia only looked up at the sky. "I know, but..." she trailed off, looking back down at her half eaten sandwich. "It's because of you repeating, right?" Seth asked. Nadia replied with a small nod. 'In a way, she does have a good point. Her having to repeat the year is going to affect her future, regardless of the reason. But maybe I can...' Seth thought, but he stopped his train of thought when Nadia quickly stood up. "Senpai, let's stop talking about this serious stuff. Today's supposed to be about fun, after all. Come on, there's still plenty of places to check out," Nadia said, taking Seth's hand and pulling him off the bench. For the rest of their walk around the festival, Nadia didn't bring up any more serious subjects. He didn't know the exact reason, but Seth had a feeling of why she was trying so hard to put on a cheerful act. 'Senpai's changed. I don't know what happened to him, but he's nothing like how he was before. He feels so distant now, and he's probably going to vanish again after today. Maybe he's met someone else. Even if he did, I don't want him to forget about me,' Nadia thought to herself. The sun had already begun to set and she was alone in a classroom, changing out of the maid outfit she had been wearing earlier back into her uniform. She had asked Seth to wait in a classroom on the third floor, but when she thought about her childhood friend, she couldn't help but be curious about where he had gone after graduation. While she was doing her best not to pry, another part of her wanted to know something. Nadia took a deep breath and walked out of the room, heading for the classroom on the third floor where Seth waited, the very same room she confessed her feelings to him one year prior. "Yeah. Sorry about this. This may be my last chance, after all. Yeah, thanks. I'll buy you a drink for this," Seth said to a person on the phone as he waited for Nadia. Once the person on the other end said their piece, he hung up the phone and shoved it into his pocket. He turned towards the window, watching students walking around and having fun. He thought back to the past and how he's become different than his old self. As such thoughts ran through his head, the door slowly opened and Nadia stepped inside. For a few moments, neither of them spoke as Nadia closed the door behind her. She stood silently for nearly a minute, the only sound being the voices coming from outside the windows. "Hey...Senpai. You're not going to be around after tomorrow, right?" Nadia finally asked. Seth didn't answer her question right away. The question was bound to be asked at some point, but he had not thought it'd be then and there. "Yeah. I don't know when, or even if I'll come back to this town again," Seth simply replied. Another short silence followed. Seth walked over to Nadia, who refused to look in his direction. He reached out and wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling the girl closer to him. It was only then he noticed that tears were streaming down her face. "Even if I have to go far away, I'm not going to just forget about you. I wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for you, Nadia," Seth said. It wasn't long before his friend turned around, burying her face in his chest as she cried. The most Seth could do at that moment in time was hold her close to him. Outside, sunset soon made way to night. The last major event of the school festival was a dance around a large bonfire made in the courtyard. However, while a vast majority of the festival's attendants were at the dance, in a classroom on the school's third floor, a girl's moans could be heard coming from one of the closed rooms. Nadia sat in Seth's lap, wearing nothing but her skirt. Hidden underneath, his cock was already deep inside her. One thing had quickly led to their current situation after Nadia had calmed down. Nadia put her hands on her friend's shoulders, bouncing up and down on his cock while her moans rang out in the room. "I never would've thought all it'd take is a year for you to become such a pervert. Someone could catch us, you know?" Seth said. Nadia stopped moving and poked his cheek with a finger. "It's all your fault, Senpai. You made me wait for a whole year," Nadia replied, wrapping her arms around him and pressing her body up against him. "If it's all my fault, then you want me to take responsibility, right?" Seth asked. Before Nadia could answer him, he put his hands on her hips and started thrusting up into her. A loud moan escaped from Nadia's lips after Seth took control, his strong thrusts making wet sounds echo through the room. Nadia soon found herself bent over a desk while Seth pounded her from behind. She covered her mouth with one hand, trying to stop any of her loud moans from coming out. The sounds of music and people outside managed to drown out most of their noise. Before long, Seth felt himself reaching his limit, and with one last thrust, stuffed his cock into Nadia one last time before shooting out his cum deep inside her. After a short time, Nadia went and put back on the rest of her clothes and the pair walked out of the room together. The pair walked hand in hand down the quiet hallway, neither saying anything. Nadia had a bright smile on her face, staying close to Seth as they walked. As they reached the stairs heading down to the second floor, Nadia stopped for a moment. "Hey, Senpai? Do you want to go get something to eat? I'm feeling a little hungry after earlier," she asked. After a short pause, she flashed a grin. "And maybe afterward, you can show me how much you love me again." Seeing the smile on her face, Seth already had an idea of what she was talking about. 'Chief, I don't think I'll be back tonight.'

Well this came out more depressing than I originally intended, but here's my sad sack version of "stuff me, senpai" which actually ended up being "stuff me, sensei" but whatever...

...and a new challenge is posted!

THE CHALLENGE For Thanksgiving, your challenge is to write a scene, story, or scenario around the theme of seduction, stuffing, and seasonal submission. Write a spicy, sultry, or hilarious Thanksgiving-themed story inspired by the phrase “Stuff Me, Senpai.” Interpret it however you like: literally, figuratively, metaphorically, magically, monstrously... Bring your best anime-style holiday ecchi chaos. School festival? Just a student and their senpai left behind during college break? The two of them at the hot springs trip during fall break? Baking pumpkin pie in an apron (and nothing else)? Food as a flirtation device? Bring the teasing, the comedy, and the steamy fallout. Deadline Midnight (EST) Saturday 22 Nov, 2025 Limits 1 entry per person keep it around 2,000 words, no penalty for going a little over but remember, everyone has to read these to vote Prizes 1st Place: 4,000 EcchiCredits 2nd Place: 2,000 EcchiCredits 3rd Place: 1,000 EcchiCredits

I did the voting for Challenge 44, but never finalized it, so... Tied Winners - @MagnificentBastard and @NyxAvatar69. By my rules, I'll add the prizes for 1st and 2nd and split them evenly, so each winner gets 3,000 EC! Also, since there were only 3 entries for Challenge 45, I decided to award each submission 1,000 EC! @WickedCadrach, @StarlitSiren, and @NyxAvatar69 all received 1,000 EC! Congrats to all our winners!

what they see They always start with my eyes. The men, I mean. They say they’re expressive, that I have that spark, that they can see the life in me, the laughter waiting to happen. They talk about how I look at them, how I make them feel seen, how they could drown in the color, how they’d swim there forever if I’d let them. They tell me I have eyes that say yes, eyes that tease, eyes that know too much. They don’t know how right they are. Because when I look into them, those same eyes they worship, all I see are the lies I’ve told. Little ones, big ones, the kind that keep the day moving, the kind that keep the world from caving in. I see the hours lost to pretending to be okay, to laughing on cue, to becoming the kind of woman who knows how to play her own reflection. Sometimes I stare at myself too long. The makeup starts to blur, the shape of me comes undone, and I catch a glimpse, not of the woman they think I am, but of the girl I used to be. She’s still in there, behind the practiced tilt of my head, the practiced smile, the careful way I hold myself so no one can see the seams. Her eyes were softer once, round with wonder, unguarded in a way I can barely remember. She didn’t know yet. When I meet her gaze, she looks startled, like she’s been found out, like she’s been waiting all these years for me to come back and didn’t think I would. I don’t know what to say to her. Sorry? Thank you? It’s all right now? None of it would be true. So I just keep looking, until I see her fade again into the woman I’ve become, polished, knowing, eyes that make men feel things they mistake for love. They say they can see everything in them, the fire, the flirtation, the life. And maybe they can. But what they don’t see is the way I have to look past myself every morning in the mirror, just to keep from drowning in what’s left behind those eyes.

So, I'm challenging myself. This one started out as an attempt to write an Edgar Allen Poe inspired long form poem and honestly, it got away from me and I definitely feel like the Poe tone came in and out. Part of that might be the protagonist voice I was shooting for, partly frightened, partly aroused, possibly mad. So for Prompt 7: Masquerade Mask, I give you... The Masquerade That Will Not Die...

I'm going to preface this by saying, I'm a dumb-dumb and ended up trying to write a crappy horror movie in as few words as possible... it's not good, and it's too long, but hidden within the spoiler tag to keep people from having to scroll for a mile, here's... Prompt 6: Trick or Tease

So...I may or may not have to retract what I said before, because unless I take some heavy creative liberties, I don't know if I can come up with a consistent plot this time unlike with Kinktoberfest where the ideas left enough wiggle room to slide in something. Also for this first one, I nearly hit the word limit before the end, so I had to rush the ending...and end up 26 words over. We're off to a great start. Trick Costume The day of Narfolk's annual costume contest was fast approaching, and Amber had been spending the past number of days worrying about what she wanted to dress up as. Almost like a miracle, as she was agonizing over what would've made for a good costume, a new store had recently opened up in town, Magic Hag's Potion Shop. Despite it's name, it had far more than supposed "potions" in stock. From old books to secret family recipes. There had even been Halloween costumes for sale. On an ordinary afternoon after her courses for the day had finished at the community college, Amber decided to check out the shop, dragging her childhood friend, Troy, along with her. Despite the shop's sudden surge in popularity among the people of Narfolk, it's location was fairly out of the way. It had taken nearly an hour and a search on a map app, but the pair eventually found Magic Hag's Potion Shop in a dark corner of town. The smell of various incenses filled the air of the shop, covering the smell of the musty tomes that lined one of the walls near the front entrance. Cheap Halloween decorations had been carelessly strewn about the place. On a large table near the front entrance was a table with several liquid filled bottles, all of them marked with their contents by a small paper tag. The shop's only employee, a black haired woman dressed up in a witch's costume, watched the young college students enter her shop with a bright smile, but at the same time, Troy couldn't help but feel a bit uneasy. "You sure you want to get a costume here of all places? When you told me about this place, I tried looking it up online. All I could find is a place in a game that has the same name, but nothing about a place like this," Troy asked as he followed Amber while she browsed around the shop, looking for the Halloween costumes. "You're worrying too much. Besides, it'll be way too late if I order one online. The contest is only a couple of days away," Amber answered. "But doesn't it seem weird that this place opened just now? Halloween's nearly here and this place just happens to open now?" "You're overthinking things, Troy. Maybe it just took time to get ready to open up. I mean, look at some of this stuff," Amber said while she stopped and lifted up a broom from a line on the nearby wall. The broom reminded him of something a witch would ride in a movie. As he thought more on it, the broom looked exactly like one a witch would ride. Amber turned her head and spotted a row of hung up Halloween costumes, setting the broom down and making her way over to the women's costumes. Troy took a bit of time looking over the variety while Amber shopped. While there were simple costumes like scary clowns or a monster of some kind, more complex costumes were mixed in among the simpler ones. "A lot of variety for a small time place," Troy muttered to himself. Before he could continue browsing, an unfamiliar voice came out of nowhere and made him jump. "They're all handmade, by the way," the voice, cold as ice, spoke out close to him. When he turned his head, he found the shopkeeper standing before him, her unusual golden eyes looking straight at him. Troy had no idea where she had even come from. At no point did he hear footsteps moving towards him, and aside from Amber, no other customers were in the shop. "These costumes are all quite special, you know?" the shopkeeper asked. "Is...that right?" Troy replied. "I'm sure your girlfriend will be quite satisfied, no matter what she chooses," the shopkeeper said. Troy quickly waved his hands and shook his head. "No. no, no, it's not like that. She's not my girlfriend. She and I are just friends," Troy quickly shot back. For a moment, he could've sworn he saw a faint smile on the shopkeeper's normally stoic face, but her expression went back to normal before he could be totally sure. Before he could ask about it, Amber's voice rang out behind him. "Hey, Troy, I got a costume," she said, leaving Troy to turn to face her. The shopkeeper turned and made her way back to the front counter, but Troy couldn't erase the image of the woman's faint smile from his memory. Two days after their shopping trip, Amber had decided to actually try on the costume she had purchased from Magic Hag's Potion Shop. Among the variety of options, she had settled on a frilly and pink magical girl costume. She had primarily picked it out since the costume reminded her of a TV show about magical girls she watched as a kid. She laughed a bit to herself as she remembered dragging Troy along to watch episodes with her when he visited her house. He had stopped going to her house once the pair started high school, and while the pair still went to the same community college, she felt like there was a certain invisible distance with her friend that wasn't there in the past. Such thoughts raced through Amber's head as she slipped on the magical girl costume, which to her surprise, fit her perfectly. While she was looking herself in the mirror, she had failed to notice the mysterious glow that came from the costume for a moment. Over the days before the costume contest, the days passed by uneventfully. Troy had gone about his usual days, but something about the shopkeeper at the Potion Shop kept bothering him, so he had decided to look into it. He returned to the dark corner of town he had gone to with Amber, but when he got there, the Magic Hag's Potion Shop was nowhere to be found, as if it had never existed at all. "What's going on here? The place was here just the other day!" he said to himself, but before he could inquire further, he was interrupted by a sudden text message. When he opened up his phone and checked it, he raised an eyebrow when he learned it was from Amber. I want you to come over, was all the message said. Troy found the whole thing unusually vague, especially when he considered how Amber usually was. When he was going to put his phone away, he got another text containing the exact same message. "Did someone hack her phone or something?" Troy asked. He let out a resigned sign and shoved his phone back into his pocket, deciding to go and see what the problem was with Amber. What he didn't realize at the time was that a woman with long black hair, dressed up like a witch, had been watching him from the shadows where the Potion Shop should've been. In her hands was a strange, wooden puzzle box covered in mysterious symbols. The trip to Amber's house felt more like a trip down memory lane for Troy. He had stopped going over once he started high school, even though he still sometimes spent time with Amber after school. There wasn't any real malice behind it, but more of the two just drifting apart. Amber had gotten new friends and Troy had figured he wasn't needed anymore, choosing instead to distance himself from her. Even then, however, he always seemed to end up finding her again, like when he found out they were attending the same community college. As he thought back to memories of the past, he reached his destination. He walked past the familiar white fence and down the simple brick walkway to the front door, but when he knocked on the door, it slowly creaked open on it's own. "Amber?" Troy called out. When there was no response, he stepped inside. Once he was inside the house, he heard a sound coming from upstairs. He slowly walked up the stairs, trying to listen for any more noises until he thought he heard a slight creaking. Carefully, Troy followed the sound when he reached the top of the stairs until he stood at the front of Amber's room. As a kid, he had visited her room several times, so he already knew it was hers. He was about to knock on the door until he heard heavy breathing and the creaking of the bed coming from inside. Troy had an idea of what may have been going on inside, yet something inside him compelled him to at least check. He reached for the doorknob and slowly opened it up a bit, just enough to see inside. What he saw was Amber, laying on her bed, still wearing the magical girl costume she had gotten a couple of days ago. One of her hands was on her breast while the other fingered her wet pussy. Amber squirmed around on the bed, finding it impossible to find any release no matter how much she tried. Troy was about to walk away until he heard Amber call out his name. He froze in place, unable to keep his eyes off of her. He didn't know what was causing Amber to behave the way she was, but he figured it was related to the text she sent him. He took a deep breath and pushed open the door. When Amber heard the door open, she froze, her whole face turning red. "Troy?! What are you doing here?" she questioned. She quickly moved her hands and closed her legs, trying to pretend nothing was going on. Neither Amber or Troy spoke for several moments until Amber slowly looked up at her friend. "I guess that's not important right now. I...need your help," Amber finally said. "Need my help?" Troy asked. Amber gave a small nod and tugged on the magical girl costume. "I...can't get this off," Amber replied. "And what does that have to do with calling me here?" Troy asked. Amber reached over to near her pillow and grabbed her phone. She turned the device on and showed a mysterious text message to Troy. The only way to free yourself from the costume's spell is being claimed by the person closest to your heart. "Costume's spell? What does that-" Troy tried to ask, but before he could finish, Amber's arms were around his neck and her body was pressed up against his. "My body feels so hot. Ever since I put this thing on, all I can think about is...you know," Amber quietly said. "It...feels weird. All I've been able to think about is you," she added, burying her face in his chest to hide how red her face was. "Are you sure that's the only way?" Troy asked. "I don't know, but I have courses tomorrow. I can't go to class wearing this," Amber replied. Even as she spoke, she pressed her body up against him. The feeling in her was driving her towards such action, and she was slowly becoming less sure whether it was because of the costume or if she actually wanted it herself. "Please, have sex with me, Troy," Amber finally said. After a long silence, Troy looked down at his childhood friend. He wasn't totally sure of all the details, but from what he did know at the time, he knew that his friend needed his help. Even if such an act would blur the lines of their friendship, he decided to indulge in her request. Outside the house, a figure watched as two shadows on the second floor moved with each other. The wooden puzzle box in her hands glowed with an otherworldly light. "Everything has worked out as I hoped. It is far from enough, however. Savor your time together," the black haired shopkeeper said to nobody in particular. Once a woman's moans began to ring out from the open door to the house, she turned and walked away. After a few steps, she was gone, as if she was never there at all.

Prompt 3: One Night at the Mansion Eirawen Hall stood ominously over the misted folds of a valley, past the emerald green hills of the River Dulas. The people of Teley had long since consigned the ancient property- thought to have stood since the 1500s- to the same level of attention they might pay any inconvenient truths they might care to hide from, or politics, but every year there was one reckless younger person whom decided it was their turn to brag about surviving the Halloween challenge; spend the night in Eirawen Hall and live to tell about it. “Hey fans, it’s your girl~” ‘Tafftitties’ or Anwen, as her mam knew her, spoke flirtatiously into her phone as she strode towards the heavy oak door separating her from a whole lot of… well, nothing, she was sure. “’Come for the accent, stay for the rack.’” She went into selfie mode to shoot her audience a cheeky wink (and a peek down her top) for the later edits. “We’re here at Eirawen Hall; and I’m going to spend the night here alone!” She wasn’t, obviously, but Anwen figured a little walk around, a few shots, and she could leave before it got dark. If the influencer had been as attentive as she was pretty, she would have heard the door lock behind her over her chatting away into the recording. If her IQ matched her follower count, she might not have come, ignoring the legends. If. If. If. “Musty hallway~” she went on, bored. “Boring dining room…” To a lot of people this slice of history might have been crazy cool, but her followers wanted spooks and, well, her, being a flirt. “Legends say that Lady Aeilth Vaughessa- huuuge ho, back in the Tudor times or some shit, died here after a long life of sin, scandal and, well, being a freaking Queen.” A dusty library, stacked floor to ceiling with books. A stairway that creaked with every step, as though Anwen was testing the very weight of the house itself as she ascended. “Guys, seriously, men get to fuck around and they’re chads, and when a strong woman does it she’s a whore? Fuck that. Girl, I’m glad you were getting it.” If it hadn’t already been too late for Anwen, if she hadn’t already been in the spirits’ grip, perhaps she would have noticed that her phone had shut off of its own accord. That she was only talking to herself. “Ooooh, look what we have here, babes!” She swung a long shot with her useless brick of a phone around the next chamber as she entered. A grand bedroom with a great four poster, velvet bedcurtains, almost polished floorboards, and a crackling fireplace. If she wasn’t already too far gone, Anwen would have known it wasn’t right. “Hot, right? Very me?” She winked at the lens again and knelt down upon the carpet in front of the fire, phone held high to to pose for a shot with just the right amount of cleavage. “Bet you all wish you were here right now, huh? Well?~” But that line of thought didn’t finish, because when Anwen looked up from the phone she realised, at last, that she wasn’t alone here. Standing at the foot of the bed was a woman- where had she come from?- Tall, pale- unnaturally so- with long, straight white hair down past her shoulders. A thin white gown of sheer silk that flowed all the way down her very visible form, that Anwen could have seen through even were it not hanging open and loose. Her eyes were a piercing, icy blue, and- “Pretty thing.” The woman’s words seemed to be there and not, audible and silent, spoken by something other than her… And Anwen sprung to her feet, flushing a furious red and stammering an apology that never came “Kneel, pretty thing. I prefer you on your knees.” Even if she had thought to disobey, she couldn’t. And Anwen hadn’t thought to. She dropped down onto both knees the instant the command had left the woman’s tongue. “I-“ “You will not speak without express permission.” And Anwen swallowed her words. Because she had to. A little wave of terror started to rush through her, fighting against the queer enchantment she could feel- even if she couldn’t understand- taking over her mind and body. She had to get out. She had to escape. She had to- “Disrobe.” She had to undress. That was what she had to do. Never taking her eyes from the stranger, Anwen tugged at her tank top, pulling it up over her head. Her phone was on the floor somewhere, discarded and forgotten, and that little rebellious voice in her head that was still the influencer’s own was desperately glad that she had stopped recording. She thought she had, anyway? She unclasped her bra, letting it fall to the ground, and didn’t even think of covering herself up. Even without the command, she knew that wasn’t what the woman wanted. Her fingers slipped down into the hem of her skirt, slipping it down her legs and shimmying to get it down past her knees and her boots without rising. She hadn’t gotten permission to stand, after all, nor to ask for it, and her thong was a similar struggle. If Anwen had been in her right mind, she would have shouted and screamed and cried and shrieked for any help that might come. But Anwen wasn’t, and all she could do was kneel, naked before the stranger, gazing up at her with something between terror and… what was that? The stranger stepped closer, each step flexing her long gorgeous legs that almost seemed to float rather than walk. She dropped her gown, joining Anwen in her nakedness, and her pale- almost porcelain- skin seemed to glow as she drew close. She knelt with Anwen, pressing a freezing hand that radiated with a paradoxical warmth against her cheek, and spoke a single word; “Sin.” Before she knew what she was doing, the influencer’s hand had crept downwards, past her naval and down, between her legs. Her palm found purchase against her *ahem* VIP Suite, a finger slipping into her wetness, her thumb against her ‘on’ button. “Resist your pleasures, and you leave,” the stranger whispered into her ear. “Succumb, and remain. As mine.” A warning, an offer, or both? Whatever it was, Anwen was already touching herself, already panting and bucking her hips against her hand. Already moaning, without ever once taking her eyes off of the woman’s, as though she was trapped in them. Every little push or flick sent her closer to a climax she didn’t even know if she wanted… and she tried and tried and tried to hold it back even as her body and mind betrayed her, and- And then the woman leaned forwards, crossing what little distance was left between the pair, pressing her cold, hungry lips to Anwen’s. And she broke, moaning wildly into the spectres kiss. By the time they parted- was it a minute, or an hour?- Anwen was flat on her back, arms and legs akimbo, taking deep, tortured breaths. “You have chosen.” The icy voice was there again, in her ear, and suddenly the woman was atop her, straddling Anwen. She didn’t care. She wanted her on top of her, needed her. “Be mine.” Another moment and the pale lady was lowering herself over Anwen’s face. The once-influencer was only too happy to serve.

THE CHALLENGE For Halloween, the challenge is a series of writing prompts. The first set are setups for light-hearted lewd fun. The second set cross lines and suggest thematic pairings that some might find disturbing or even unpleasant. I tend to enjoy being challenged to write something outside the bounds of normal. I hope you do, too. Make sure to include the prompt number or title in your post! 1. Trick Costume - A magical (or cursed?) Halloween costume alters the wearer’s behavior... or desires. Does it enhance hidden urges? Attract unexpected attention? Awaken the wearer's confidence or desire? ...or does it possess them? Tell us what happens to the wearer. Bonus twist: The costume can’t be removed until some condition is met. 2. Summoning - A demon, spirit, or being is summoned incorrectly, or perhaps just correctly enough. They shouldn't have appeared, but they’re here now, very curious, and perhaps not bound correctly...? Is the summoner embarrassed? Enthralled? Willing? Willing enough? Tell us a tale of a summoning gone wrong, from either perspective. Bonus twist: To bind the summoned being requires intimate physical contact. 3. One Night at the Haunted Mansion - Your character has to spend the night in a haunted manor for a dare, inheritance, or investigation. Locked in for the night. Haunted halls, sensual spirits, and mysterious moans in the dark. The spirits aren’t interested in scaring them... they want something else. Who, or what, will you meet? Ghosts, succubi, vampire courtiers, cursed portraits... all welcome. Bonus twist: The mansion feeds on pleasure. 4. Witch's Spell - A witch offers your character exactly what they desire... pleasure, power, transformation, whatever your heart desires... for a price. The spell takes hold as the candle burns down. What did they wish for… and what price will they pay to get it? Think magical transformation, mind control, or intensified desire. Bonus twist: The witch uses genie logic, granting the wish to the letter but not the intent. 5. Pumpkin Spice & Sin - Your character drinks an enchanted seasonal drink that triggers unexpected side effects. Their senses heighten, their inhibitions fade, and the whole café/town's fall festival/study group/etc. becomes something far more wild as desire magically alters the night’s events. Sweet, spicy, or scandalous. Perfect for a lighthearted, sensual romp. Bonus twist: Season offerings must be shared... it turns out, the pumpkin spice treat wasn’t just for you. It was a trigger for a ritual that requires multiple participants, and now that you’ve tasted it people you know start acting strangely flirtatious, strangers are drawn to you, old flames, crushes, or forbidden desires come knocking... and they're all hungry. 6. Trick-or-Tease - It started out as a naughty Halloween party game, but now things are escalating beyond what anyone expected. Who’s setting the rules? Why can’t you stop? Strip spin-the-bottle, naughty dares, or sexy illusions… Who’s playing? Who’s being played? What are the rules now? Bonus twist: The party game seemed simple enough, naughty dares drawn from a bowl, each one steamier than the last. But soon, the guests begin to notice the handwriting changes, the dares get way too personal, and some of them reference secrets no one should know. Someone, or something, is adding dares to the mix, and no one knows who... or what happens if you refuse to play. 7. Masquerade Mask - At a decadent masquerade ball, identities are hidden, rules are relaxed, and temptation is everywhere. But one dance partner seems to know everything about you. Erotic tension, mystery, and masks... a classic combo. Bonus twist: Something about the mask or the person across from you sparks a memory, a fragmented flash, a lingering echo. You’ve been here before, maybe not in this life, maybe not in your body, but you know that the masquerade is repeating itself. Each time, the masks hide the same faces. Each time, the roles shift... hunter and hunted, lover and beloved, predator and prey. 8. In the Cornfield - A rural Halloween hayride or corn maze goes awry. A masked figure stalks the night. Is it fear, lust, or both? And is your character really alone? Slasher movie vibes meet erotic tension in the dark. Is it fear or arousal that makes your heart race… or both? Bonus twist: The cornfield isn’t just a maze... it’s alive, aware of heat, breath, and desire. It listens, shifts when someone moans... rearranges itself. The more flustered you become, the deeper in you go. The corn closes in tight like it wants to watch. Is the maze trapping you… or inviting you to let go? The only way out is into the center and the thing (or person) you were always meant to find... waiting for you... breathless, desperate, and ready. 9. Monster Under the Bed - Your character always feared something lived under their bed, but when it finally comes out on Halloween, it doesn't want to eat them... at least, not like that. Explore monster-fucking, cuddly cryptids, or forbidden romances. Bonus twist: The monster under the bed was your childhood protector, but then you stopped believing. You grew up and forgot them, but they didn’t forget you. Now they crawl out from the shadows… but twisted. Hungry not just for your body, but for your attention, for the version of you they remember, and they want you to remember too. They want to play again, only now, the games are very different, and if you won’t go back to being theirs, they’ll find a way to make you. 10. Possession - Your character is possessed by a spirit that craves sensation. When they share a body… things get weirdly intense... shared sensations, posthumous passion... who’s in control, and do you want them to stop? Possession, shared pleasure, multiple minds in one body... Bonus twist: The ghost didn’t come back for revenge, or closure, or to pass on. They came back because you were the last thing they felt... your touch, your kiss, your voice screaming their name in grief or passion. from here the ideas get more... macabre? twisted? 11. Inside - A character wakes up after a strange encounter, dream, or ritual with a creeping sensation under their skin. Something is growing inside them, writhing in rhythm with their desire. Is it a curse? A pregnancy? A godling forming in the womb of a worshipper? Do they fight it, or fuck it? 12. Don't Touch the Art - An erotic sculpture in a haunted gallery changes shape when you’re alone with it. Sometimes it watches. sometimes it whispers, sometimes it moves. You know you shouldn’t touch it... but it’s already touched you. What happens when desire is awakened by something that was never meant to be alive? 13. The Whole Town - The new town is friendly... too friendly. Everyone flirts, everyone stares, everyone touches. At first, your character thinks they’re being seduced, then they realize they’re being prepared. What ritual requires so much attention? What happens when the final kiss is given? 14. Don't Stop Reading the Spell - Your character finds an old journal with an incantation written as a sensual, poetic prayer. Each line evokes a wave of sensation, so they keep reading. But the spell isn’t just opening a portal, it’s opening them. Every sentence brings them closer to climax… and to summoning something that wants to finish the job. and my personal favorite, the one that I think has inspired a deliciously twisted tale in my brain: 15. Love Beyond the Grave - Death isn’t the end, not when desire burns hotter than decay. A lover, spouse, crush, or paramour returns from the grave, drawn back by love, lust, obsession, or unfinished passion. Maybe they were summoned by desperate magic, maybe they clawed their way out of the graveyard, maybe they simply couldn’t stay dead when their body remembered the one thing they longed for most: you. Do you welcome them with open arms despite the rot? Do you recoil… then give in? Or did you call them back yourself, unable to let go, no matter the cost? Love stronger than death, lust unafraid of decay... romantic or horrific, sweet or grotesque... your choice. Deadline Midnight (EST) , 30 October 2025 Limits 1 entry per prompt, per person no strict word limit, but please try to keep it between 500 to 2,000 words Prizes You'll be awarded 500 EcchCredits for each prompt reply you post (limit 1 reply per prompt as stated above). (So you can win up to 7,500 credits just for posting!) There will still be voting for a pot of 5,000 first place, 2,500 second place, and 1,000 third place. I reserve the right to award bonus credits for entries that are especially imaginative, well-written, or ones that just happen to tickle my fancy or inspire me to tickle my fancy (pardon the crappy euphemism)

I won't lie, I definitely wrote a lot of poetry trying to channel Charles Bukowski... or at least that's what it looks like in hindsight. I know I read a lot of Bukowski back then, because he felt like home. I think at the time I was trying to mine my life for the words that would paint what I felt, and no other style of writing aside from confessional diary entries seemed to make anything stick. But like most poetry, everything I wrote was pretentious, filled with weak attempts to describe emotion and life with mere words, as if words alone could convey the smells, the textures, the feelings,...physical or emotional. They can't, but sometimes they suggest enough to evoke something that might mimic what your particular experience tells you the author might have felt, and I guess that's close enough for mere mortals. I found a lot of stuff from the old days. A box of notebooks, thumb drives, and a few old laptop hard drives, two of which I could access with the help of a tech friend. There's stuff on there that is terrible, but some that's okay. You can see my inspiration - Bukowski is a massive influence, some might say I ripped off his style, and I definitely did, or tried to, in a lot of those writings, even if unintentionally. But also paintings that are mostly garbage, but sometimes inspired, clearly influenced by Mary Abbott and Elaine de Kooning... sketches where it looks like I'm in high school trying to draw still life without lifting my pencil, collages where it looks like I was just paste and angst on a bad drug trip, but sometimes inspired. Anyway... I'll share some of that stuff here. Poems that still make me embarrassed, not for what they try to convey, but for the weak attempt at conveying it, and mostly in someone elses' style, even if I tried to make it my own voice. Maybe I'll start with a hopeful one.

Post all your questions, comments, and discussions here.