IsabellaRose

Isn't Doctor Who bi?

Bring it on

Not guilty. I'm sometimes accused of talking too much and laughing too loud. The next person has had someone walk in on them while they were having sex.

overdue books

Who were we talking about again?

student loans

predatory animal

virtual experience

seismic retrofit

jive turkey!

good kitty

basic instinct

THE CHALLENGE Using just dialogue, write a scene between your character and someone they’re attracted to. Deadline Midnight (EST) Friday, 26 Apr 2024 Limits 1 entry per person no strict word limit, but please try to keep it around 2,000 words- remember, everyone has to read these to vote Prizes 1st Place: 4,000 EcchiCredits 2nd Place: 2,000 EcchiCredits 3rd Place: 1,000 EcchiCredits

killer bee

fat ass

hot flash

first draft, not well edited, around 1500 words, and it ended darker than I intended. Resurrection Incantation It is a dark night with only a hint of moonlight filtering through the clouds, and as I stand upon the ancient stones paving a ring around the alter the cold lances up through my bare feet like knives of ice. I am naked and the air is chill upon my bare skin. Blood seeps from the unholy symbols carved into my flesh. It wells in the self-made wounds but does not drip, leaving a pattern of black and red sigils and whorls over my pale white skin. I studied the pact, a life for a life, and I now prepare to offer up the young woman who until this night has been my lover. I have known her intimately, and she had given herself to me, physically, mentally, and finally, after months of carefully cultivating the seeds planted so many months ago, spiritually. But her entrance to the fold of the initiated was not what she thought. I told her she would join me as an equal, which in a sense is true. Her life force will bring back my love, her flesh will be reshaped into the form of my master, the only man to whom I have ever willingly given myself. But she will cease to be. The rituals we performed were not to make her one of us, but to prepare her for sacrifice. I feel a pang of regret, but brush it aside. It is why I took the poor thing as my lover in the first place. Why I sheltered her and made her trust me, why I provided for her and made her feel she belonged. I not only needed her to love me, but I needed to love her as well. She gave herself so willingly, like a hungry animal begging for a gentle touch, kneeling beside me, desperate for the approval only I could give. How could I not have fallen for her, at least a little bit? But I fell harder than I intended. Still, it is what is required, love for love, life for life. Had I not loved her, the sacrifice would not have been adequate. I am sorry. I told her as much as she slid into unconsciousness. I knew from the start she would die by my hand, but I had thought to keep myself distant, maintain some sort of emotional barrier, but in the end, she found her way into my heart. It is like putting down a childhood pet, an unpleasant and sad task, but one that must be carried out, and something only you can do. She stirs as I stand over her on the altar, and I begin the incantation. In moon's soft glow on this dark night, I forsake my love, call beyond life's light. With blood and words I weave this spell, To return true love from death's dark well. Lightning flashes in the distance, and I see her laid out before me. She is also nude, her body lean and luscious, the curves I have caressed and felt pressed against my own call out for my embrace. Her breasts rise and fall with her breathing. I know she is aroused. The brew I concoted makes her groggy and hungry for the touch of a lover. The knife, when I plunge it into her heart, will feel like a lover entering her willing and ready body. It will be bliss at the end for her. I continue the words of the spell, my voice rising as a breeze stirs the air and the clouds seem to move faster. With heart and soul, I call your name, Tear through the veil, our love aflame. From bones grown cold, let warmth arise, And bring my love to mortal skies. There is another flash of lightning, closer this time, and a fat raindrop lands on my outstretched hand. It is followed by another, and then a third. The clouds dance across the sky in unnaturally rapid formations, swirling around as if an anomalous storm brews beyond the ability of man to predict. My voice rises with the wind. By ancient bonds and magic's art, I summon thee, with beating heart. Come back to life, oh love so true, Our destinies entwined anew. She moves on the altar, her body writhing as if in the throes of ecstasy, one hand sliding between her own legs, but whether to try to reduce her arousal or make it stronger I cannot say. I have an urge to put my hand there as well, to urge her on, to give her one last release, la petite mort, before her final act. But instead I grasp the knife, raise it above my head, prepare to drive it through her chest and into her beating heart. To heart's embrace, I drive my knife, To bring one back, I give a life. I hesitate, looking down at her, so young, so beautiful, so full of life and energy, so full of love and willing to give everything to me. I do love her. I do. But I loved another before her. We made a pact. I cannot falter, and so I drive the knife into her chest. Awaken now, return to me, My love reborn, so mote it be. There is no scream, no mad scramble for survival. She lets out a sigh as if I have given her pleasure, and then she dies. I stare at the hilt of the knife poking up from between her perfect breasts, breasts that no longer rise and fall with the breath of the living. As the rain begins in earnest, I continue the incantation. Through time and space, our spirits blend, Together now, until the end. By magic's might and love's pure flame, I call my love back whence they came. The wind whips my long hair about my head and torso, raindrops pelt my naked flesh like stinging mites, lightning flashes and I can feel the energy of the dead surround me like a warm blanket, ready to lull me into its deadly embrace. But I resist, I continue the spell, my voice rising above the howling wind. Hear my plea, powers beyond, Unite our souls, let love abscond. With this enchantment, let it be, My love returns to life, to me. I collapse onto my knees on the cold, wet stone. I feel as if my soul has been ripped from my body, every fiber of my being stretched to the edge of the cosmos, my mind shredded, my heart... my heart... She is gone. She was innocent and pure and she loved me more than he ever did. Her love was pure, the kind of thing he would mock and use for his benefit. Just as I did. I realize now that she was my one true love, not him. I weep uncontrollably. What have I done? And then I hear the wail of my old love's voice, a cry of hatred and frustration that fades into the clouds, and the storm ceases even faster than it came. Silence blankets the altar with the fragments of all the lies I told her and myself on the path to this place of utter loss. When I needed focus and single-minded purpose, my feelings grew confused, and I broke the spell. I sacrified the one who ended up being my one true love to bring back the one I thought was my true love, and in the end, I lost both. I cannot believe the sense of loss. I stand on shaky legs, reach across her lifeless form, pull the knife from her chest with a sound like wet grief. I cannot go on, and I lift the knife to drive it into my own chest. It is then that I her her voice. "My love." I see her body move, hands and arms jerking inhumanly as she pushes her lifeless corpse upward. Her neck twists at an impossible angle and glazed, unseeing eyes turn toward me. Her exanimate body rises, realigns itself, the wound in her chest open and oozing. She is still beautiful. She is still the one that I truly love. She crawls toward me, more crablike than anything, arms and legs moving in ways no human body has ever moved as bones crack and shatter and realign to whatever new purpose animates them. "Kiss me," she says. and she is before me, hands upon my nudity, fingers teasing at the open wounds of the symbols carved into my flesh, cold insensate lips searching for my own. Her tongue extends into my mouth and I return her deep and passionate kiss, wanting my love, wanting her back, knowing that I have made the biggest mistake of my life. I don't even realizes she's taken the knife from me until she slides it into my belly and spills my entrails at our feet. The warmth of my own insides and viscera coating my legs and feet is a contrast to the thick, cold tongue that blocks my airway. "Love me," she says into my mind. And I do. With everything I have. Until the very end.

didn't you tell me blowjobs were linked to happiness?

chocolate milk

wide world

What fun would that be?

Wouldn't you rather have that extraordinary thing at home with you the whole time?

Don't you long for something familiar and comfortable?

Isn't it scary to leave things that are familiar?

Are you gonna trade that guy for his shiny Vaporeon? It's just there, never moving, always pointing due north.