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Challenge 5: Ten Word Challenge


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I headed over to randomwordgenerator.com and got a list of 10 words for the next challenge, and here they are:

Try not to exceed 1000 words, and write a short story using the following 10 words:

  1. result
  2. implicit
  3. curtain
  4. sit
  5. tree
  6. response
  7. breast
  8. effort
  9. method
  10. scream

Deadline is Sunday, Nov 15th, 7pm EST.

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Ten word challenge:

1 result

2 implicit

3 curtain

4 sit

5 tree

6 response

7 breast

8 effort

9 method

10 scream

Excerpt from 'Emily's Diary'

Emily wanted to sit, but instead because of her anxiety, she passed around her a room, angry at herself and her teacher. She paused in front of the window to think what she could so, what she should do. Her eyes absentmindedly looked past the curtain, through the window at the tree outside, trying to come to terms with the result she for her last chemistry test, she had gotten a C, her first ever.

Not good enough. She though to herself.

She knew what her Daddy’s response would be, how he would react, he would be angry or disappointed, possibly both. In an effort to relax, Emily took several deep breaths but it was to no avail, until she was honest with her father, and everything was out ion the open, she would remain anxious and she knew it. She could lie to everyone else, but not her own father, never him. With a sigh, Emily decided to stop feeling sorry for herself and do something.

The teenage girl chose to take a shower and get dressed in something more comfortable, if she was going to appear before her father specially with bad news, she might as well look her best, she decided to wear her her favorite micro mini skirt, no panties and the tightest sport bra she owned.

Emily had an implicit agreement with her father, to the outside world, she was supposed to present the image of a perfect daughter, good grades, perfect attendance, amenable personality, and always dressed to impress and entice, and in return her father spoiled her silly with both money, status and his Cock. This grade, the first time she got less than a B+, could ruin hard.

She shaved and her legs and made sure she was smooth all over, thinking that if she could seduce him before he asked about the test, he would go easier on her after they fucked. After that she decided to try using a new make up method she had seen in the latest video from the Instagram influencer Becky G, determined to look her best, the make up made her look older, sultrier, dirtier than her own age would suggest, she took one last look in the mirror and walked to her father’s study.

“May I come in Daddy?”

Emily said in her best lil girl voice and once given permission she walked inside, she was all smiles and as she purposely shook her immodest hips and ass, she almost made to his desk before, before he asked.

“How was your test at school?”

She flinched but recovered quickly, managing to invade his personal space before she attempted to kiss his lips, but her father knew what she was trying and before she could, she found herself bend over his lap, her ass cheek and pussy revealed to the world due to her lack of panties.

Even knowing what was going to happen, left Emily unprepared, she felt his harsh spank land on her cunt lips and tender behind, and involuntarily she made a sound in between a moan and a scream.

“I asked you a question, you little whore. How was your test at school” Her father demanded

Emily melted under his abuse, she couldn’t deny him anything even knowing it would get her into trouble.

“I am sorry Daddy, I got a C and...”

His next few spanks felt even better against her flesh, the painful pleasure was more than her teenage body could handle, specially because her master knew all of her weak points and how to exploit them. She struggled against his lap, her left breast and its erect nipple rubbing indecently against him.

Emily’s ‘punishment’ lasted almost an hour, her father teased her ass cheeks, her cunt lips with spanks, molestation as well as abusive gropes and caresses that made her wet and bothered but never once did he allow her to cum. Usually they used the time before her mother got home to fuck, but today all she got from her father were teasing touches that kept her on edge and made her feel completely unfulfilled.

She tried the entire hour to entice him to fuck her, even begging for it but she couldn’t seduce home or coerce him, he was her master and he decided what he did to her and when.

By the time her mother arrived she was a mess, but he had ordered her not to cum, that if she managed to make it until tomorrow without climaxing, he would forgive her. Emily nodded and quietly left his presence. Determined to do better next time.

Edited by PsychoSexual
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It was 8:00 and the show was about to begin. I was dressed in a black long-sleeve shirt and black pants like the others. Everyone was quiet and movement was limited for us stagehands. It felt like such a waste being stuck back here. I was only here because I flubbed my audition. I hated it back here. Everyone above me barking orders to make sure the set pieces are in just the right place while we magically stay out of everyone’s way. It’s like we shouldn’t exist unless it’s convenient for them. Thankfully, the second act didn’t have any set changes. So I really just had to make it to the half-way point and I could sit on that prop sofa for the rest of the performance. 

Everyone called me lazy for that tendency, but there was no reason for me to be there while nobody would allow us to move or touch anything. It’s not like I cared, it was a thankless job either way. I knew from experience many plays over, nobody was ever gonna care about stagehand #3 who made sure to put the rock exactly on top of the glowing tape and not one centimeter to the left.

Everything was going smoothly. 30 minutes in, blackout. It was time to mobilize. While the actors all funneled behind the curtain, we needed to set up the pieces for the next scene.

As we each scrambled to grab our assigned set pieces, I reached for the right wall panel and pushed it into the exact place it was supposed to be, and quickly retreated backstage. It was then that I heard the horrid sound you never want to hear. Creaking. Wood. Followed by a hushed “Shit! Just go!” from behind the veil of darkness. My heart dropped as I knew whatever happened, it was going to be blamed on us.

I was just about to ask, but I found my answer on my own as I recognized a brighter yellow color where a deep green should be. Some idiot must have kicked the wooden tree cutout. The support was broken so the whole thing would fall! This piece was essential for the final scene where the kidnapper is supposed to jump out from behind the bushes to abduct the protagonist, leading to the story’s climax.

“What do we do?”

“We’re just gonna have to hold it.”

“During the scene??”

I heard the hushed but angry voices discussing.

“Lily, you’re the smallest!”

Huh? Me? I didn’t want to make any noise, though. The show must go on, as they say.

“Fine, whatever.” My frustration was implicit. I knew this would only result in my blame when the final scene goes embarrassingly wrong. This also meant no sitting during the second act.

The rest of the show went on smoothly and everyone else seemed to have forgotten about the incident except for us, of course. It was all we could think about. When the time finally came, I did exactly as we discussed. I entrusted my setpiece to another stagehand and moved the tree out onto stage, carefully keeping it supported from behind. I was just small enough to be hidden entirely by the tree’s width, so I was able to hold it from behind to keep it upright. But I wasn’t prepared for the kidnapper’s arrival. It was a male student, John, my senior, who clearly took a liking to the vulnerable state I’d assumed. Rather than hiding behind the bush like he usually did, he just walked up to me, placed his hand right onto my breast, and began to squeeze. I could do absolutely nothing. I couldn’t let go of the tree or everyone would see us. I couldn’t even move or the tree would as well. My heart was racing as his hand just made claim of my body and I could do nothing to defend myself. Wh-what kind of sick joke was this? 

Slowly all of my worries about the tree began fading from my mind, yet I still didn’t compromise my position. Something about this made my whole body… heat up. I was still a virgin and had no boyfriend, I’d never been touched like this by a man before, but… no, this was wrong. Not here, not like this, what the hell was he thinking? And, just as swiftly as it began, it was over. He left right on his cue and leaving me red-faced and wet. What was that? 

Nobody seemed to notice or care when I got backstage again. Everyone just thought I was embarrassed about being so close to a boy.

The play wrapped up like it normally did. I took one last check backstage to make sure everything was in place and, just as swiftly as he’d appeared before, I felt John against me. I could feel every inch of his erection against my butt and his hands were gripping my breasts again. We were alone this time. My heart was racing faster now.

“Wh-what are you… you can’t just…”

“You like it don’t you?”

“I… what…?”

“You put so much effort into being a stagehand. Nobody appreciates you, right? You’re just an object.”

No response. He knew the answer.

“I’ll appreciate you, beautiful. Even as the object you are~”

I wanted to scream. And yet, I couldn’t deny his claims either. I hated his method, but some part of me was excited. We could do something so many high schoolers could only dream of. Right here, right now, and that was exactly what he seemed to have planned.

“...prove it.” My skin crawled as I said that. Every inch of my body was fighting to stop me from saying it, yet he’d managed to coax it out of my shaky voice. I'd just sold myself to a school life of slavery. And that thought alone erased all other thoughts in my head. It was only a matter of seconds before our clothes were off and I finally got my seat on that sofa...

===============================

Ah! 1000 words just isn't enough! I really wanted to continue this story, but I suppose it's just as good if I leave you wanting more~

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I might have gone over the word limit... like almost double. I'll disqualify myself, but I liked what I wrote enough to share, so if you have some time, give it a read and let me know what you think.

- - - - - - - - - 

What happened that night was the result of months of mounting curiosity finally overwhelming a lifetime of cautionary tales, verbal warnings, and fear of the unknown. The need to know something conclusively often outweighs prudence or fear. That inquisitiveness that commonly accompanies curiosity can sometimes lead to new discoveries. More often it reveals something utterly ordinary and inconsequential. But sometimes the thirst for knowledge drives one beyond sense or reason and into danger, and sometimes that danger can be life-altering.

Jinasa always traveled through this village on her way back from The Withering. The well water was clean and cheap, one could sleep under the stars without fear of assault, and the green was actually still green. Over the last few months, the green in this particular village had seemed less vibrant. The plant life seemed to wilt, trees shed leaves that browned and crumpled, seeds seemed less likely to take root. Jinasa had seen this in countless villages before. The Withering was spreading here. Within a year, the village would be an inhospitable wasteland, abandoned by humans, claimed by The Withering.

She paid the water fee in dried meat and claimed her space in the green, eating mechanically near the central cooking fires. She sat and stared into the flames, thinking on the spread of The Withering, worrying about the speed with which it seemed to be claiming the world. She had studiously ignored the tiny hut before the great saba tree, the spiritual center of the village. But now, as the sun dipped below the horizon, she looked at the silhouette of the one building no one in the village would willingly enter. Firelight glinted off of two points within the shadowed doorway, and she realized the curtain was being held open and someone was looking directly at her.

It was the dakini, hidden in the shadows within the hut, firelight reflecting orange from her inhuman eyes. Tales of dakini magic frightened children and adults alike. As keepers of the saba trees, the dakini were revered, but it was known that their magic twisted their bodies, minds, and souls. They were spoken of in hushed tones, their magic as feared as it was relied upon. Jinasa had never seen a dakini in the flesh. The one that stared at her so intently was the first she had even glimpsed. The longer she stared, the more she could make out. The figure in the doorway was backlight by a faint viridian light, and it seemed the dakini beckoned her, then stepped back into the hut. The curtain remained open, the implicit invitation awaiting Jinasa's response.

Jinasa looked around the green and realized that she was alone. The places where others would sit were empty. Their canteens and food remained, but now she was alone. She looked back up at the dakini hut, saw the eerie, twin dots of light reflecting from the monstrous eyes, now further back in the hut than before, and felt compelled to move toward the door. She stood, set down her water, and walked slowly closer to the open curtain. She paused on the threshold, but only for a moment, and then she was inside.

The interior was massive but felt claustrophobic. Branches and leaves filled the space and she had to push them aside to move further in. It looked as though she stood inside a gargantuan, hollow tree with branches on the inside instead of the outside. Bending a densely leaf-covered bough aside, she found herself in a small, intimate clearing lit by a faint, emerald glow that had no source. Opposite her sat the dakini.

Her skin was a deep mahogany, a wood grain pattern ran along the surface in slowly arcing curves that followed her limbs, tight whorls at her joints, but the entire surface smooth as if it were a single piece of polished wood or patterned silk. She was nude, her very human, very feminine shape surreal as she moved not woodenly as one would expect, but with a fluid grace, almost as if her body were a plant time-lapse growing into new positions rather than actually moving. Her face was so smooth, with high, regal cheekbones, full, luscious lips, and a tiny nose that might be described as cute were it human. The eyes still burned orange with an inner light. She leaned forward with a sound like creaking wood and a rich, earthen scent came to Jinasa on a breeze that was out of place in the enclosed space.

"Sit," said the dakini in a voice like the rustle of dry leaves, titian eyes burning.

Jinasa was certain there had been nowhere to sit when she entered the chamber, but now an oddly shaped log was behind her, so she sat. It felt like sitting on someone’s lap.

"You know The Withering." It was a statement of fact, and the dakini did not wait for a response. "You know its' secrets."

Jinasa nodded. "I travel The Withering. I can survive there."

"The Withering spreads." The dakini moved again with the groaning sound of wood bending and Jinasa found herself impossibly sitting beside the dakini although neither had moved. It was as if the room had moved around them, shifting them closer. "It consumes the essence of all it touches, yet it does not consume you."

Jinasa heard the unasked question in that statement. Her response was simple. "I do not remain long enough for it to touch me."

"You take from The Withering. You restore things to the people. You save that which was lost."

"I scavenge," said Jinasa, "to trade. I am no savior."

The dakini remained motionless and silent for long moments. Then she spoke again. "You must save that which is not yet lost."

Jinasa had no idea what the dakini wanted, but she wasn't foolish enough to accept a job from a witch. She shook her head. "I'm not for hire."

"Shh," said the dakini, and it sounded more like wind blowing through the branches or gas escaping a vent than an actual verbal sound. The air felt thick and warm as the sound continued for far too long, and Jinasa's eyelids felt heavy. Her mind was fuzzy. She shook her head trying to clear it. She wanted to stand but her legs did not move. She should panic, but it was not worth the effort. She was too relaxed.

The dakini spoke again. "You will do this thing."

Jinasa did not want to agree, but it seemed like a very good idea. She nodded in acceptance.

"You will be protected," said the dakini.

She wrapped her arms around Jinasa who was now somehow sitting on the dakini's lap, then reclining, cradled in the dakini's arms like a baby. The dakini tucked Jinasa against her bare breast and Jinasa turned to face the silken flesh. The dakini made a sound and shrugged her arm, urging Jinasa closer. Jinasa felt the engorged breast against cheek, the nipple pressed against her lips, soft and supple, and she opened her mouth and took it in. She suckled like a baby. The liquid was warm, and flowed slow, thick and sweet like sap. As she drank, a feeling of euphoria spread through her body, her skin flushed with warmth. Everything was wonderful. It was amazing. She had never felt like this before.

She didn't even notice the delicate branches like fingers as they unfastened her belt and untied her trousers. Her pants and undergarments were tugged smoothly from her body, and her legs spread wide by gentle wooden boughs. The root that moved between her legs was not rough like tree bark, but sleek and sensual, and it prodded at the entrance to her womb. She had stopped suckling now, and looked down her own body at the root that pressed against her flesh. It was rooted at the waist of the dakini, projecting out like an enormous, obscene phallus, and Jinasa found herself lying back, no longer cradled in gentle arms.

Now the dakini leaned down over her, pinning her down with hands far too strong for their dainty appearance. The root pressed, pushed forward, spread Jinasa, and slipped inside. The dakini stared down into Jinasa's eyes, the inhuman orange glow of her gaze frightening in its intensity. She pressed the wooden shaft deeper into Jinasa with every thrust, and Jinasa found herself moaning in pleasure. She couldn't look away from those mesmerizing eyes. Whatever method the dakini had employed to so quickly seduce her was infallible. She was lost to the moment.

The voice of dakini was strong now, like the cracking of tree trunks in a lightning storm, and she gave Jinasa her orders. "Take the seed. Keep it safe in your womb. Deliver it to the heart of The Withering. The Withering will come for you. It wants what you now possess, and you must allow access. The joining of the two is the salvation of all."

And with that, the dakini pressed forward one last time. Jinasa felt something improbably large move up the length of the root pressed up inside of her body, the sheer size of it making it uncomfortable. The numbing effects of the dakini magic began to fade, and the reality of the situation flooed into her brain. She struggled, trying to free herself, but the thing moved up the root, deeper into her body, and when it was expelled from the root and into her womb, she felt terror well up from deep within her soul. Her scream shattered the silence as the dakini thrust her seed into Jinasa, the violation, the sheer terror of that monstrous thing atop her, within her, the taste of its sap still heavy in her mouth. She felt her entire body tremble violently, and then she faded into unconsciousness.

When Jinasa awoke, she was on the green, sleeping with the other travelers. She sat with a start, the cloak that covered her sliding down to pool in her lap. She was clothed, her supplies were untouched, everything was as it should be. She looked at the hut of the dakini, but the curtain was closed, and no light shone from within. She stared at the curtain, filled with uncertainty. The taste of sap was in her mouth and she was sore between her legs. Panic rose then, an indescribable sense of horror and dismay. What had happened last night? Had it been a dream or had that really happened? Was she carrying some sort of dakini seed within her bowels?

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Lillian stepped to the window an drew back the curtain. Emitting a yearningly sigh, the girl looked onto the vastness of the forest Carterhaugh that surrounded the little hill on which her family’s mansion stood and which today was covered in thick fog. It was a cold autumn day and for most of the day it had been rainy and windy and Lillian had spent her time with mending one of her younger sister’s dresses, drinking tea and eating biscuits.

The girl glanced at the needle and thread which lay upon a little, wooden table and sighed again. She knew she had to finish the dress today or at least present a satisfying result at the end of the day. Usually, Lillian was used to the delicate needlework, however for this dress she was using a new and more difficult method, and after having worked on it for the whole day, Lillian just wanted to get some fresh air to clear her mind and to give their fingers a break.

Putting on some shoes, gloves, her coat, a scarf and her hat, Lillian stepped out into the cold and damp autumn air. Her family’s house was surrounded by rose gardens, through which the used to girl dander in the summer, enwrapped by the rose’s sweet and soft scent, however at this time of the year all roses were withered.

Lillian strolled through the rows of rosebushes, which would rest in their quiescent and colourless sleep until spring, until she found herself in front of the gate, which marked the entrance to her family’s property. To be accurate, her father had bought the whole land between the Yarrow Water and the Ettrick Water, but Lillian’s family did only husband the mansion on the hill and the gardens and it was an implicit rule that they left the rest of the land to those, who had lived there even before them.

Lost in her thoughts, Lillian opened the gate and continued walking, the seam of her dress soon drenched from the dew which had formed thick waterdrops on the uncut high blades of grass. She was once again glad for her new, leathered boots, which kept her feet dry, and fastened her scarf around her neck.

Soon the girl had reached the margin of Carterhaugh. It was an old forest, with trees that had grown so thick that it required Lillian and all three of her siblings to reach around them with their hands. They had used to play in the woods when they had been smaller, but ever since then, the forest seemed to have lost its magic and its fascination.

Lillian was about to turn around to return home, when a drop of rain hit her hat. The girl lifted her head and looked into the sky. In the next moment, the rain came pouring down onto her. Cursing, she turned around to estimate how long it would take her to walk up the hill and back home again, but then decided to wait in the security of the trees until the rain had stopped.

Lillian hadn’t been in the forest for what must have been years she guessed, but still it felt the same as the last time that she had been here. The mossy floor felt soft and comparably dry beneath her feet and the woods smelled like fresh soil and rotting fallen leaves. Patting off some raindrops from her coat, Lillian made her way into the woods where the trees stood closer together and offered more shelter from the downpour, when she suddenly smelled something different, flowery.

The girl made a surprised face and followed the scent, until she had fount its origin: It was a rose. It grew at feet of an old and seemingly dead tree, almost hidden by bushes that grew around it as if to shield it from the upcoming winter. Lillian knelt down besides it and looked at it in fascination. She had never seen a rose in Carterhaugh, let along at this time of year.

Lillian sat onto a broad root next to the rose waited until the sound of rain had ceased. She gave the flower a quick glance, then broke it to bring it to her sister as an excuse for the unfinished dress and gently placed it into the breast pocket of her coat.

“Do you not have enough roses in your garden?” Lillian emitted a surprised cry and whirled around. At first, she didn’t see the man that had spoken the words, but only a moment later the had made his way through the trees and stood in front of her. “I picked it up to give it to my sister, Sir.”, she said. “And who gave you the permission to enter this forest and to sit here?”, the man replied, ignoring her answer. Lillian wrapped her arms around herself defensively. “I do not need any permission, Sir.”, she said, trying to sound as confident as possible. “This land belongs to my father and I am free to go where I want.”

Instead of a response, the man eyed the girl for a moment. Lillian felt herself tensing up in unease. “I do not want to be impolite, Sir, but I need to go home. I am sure my mother awaits me already.”, she said and curtsied, before she turned around. Lillian was about to hurry off, as suddenly he grabbed her by the sleeve of her coat and pulled her back with no effort. The girl stumbled over her own feet and fell onto the mossy ground. She looked at him, frozen in panic and opened her mouth to scream but no sound left her lips. “You had no right to come here.”, he said as he knelt down in front of her. In the next moment she could feel his hands upon her legs.

 

---------

For those of you who think that this somehow sounds familiar, basically this is my interpretation of the beginning of the story of Tam Lin 🙂

Edited by Somethingsomething
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