WritesNaughtyStories

Dylan tensed at the thought. Part of them wanted to see the chisel drive into the law students' smug, handsome faces. Instead, they clenched their teeth. "Something like that, I guess." Dylan's hand ached and they flexed it, feeling the ache shift into sharp pain. "I'll find her myself." Dylan said, reaching their good hand into heir pocket and juggling the remaining ecstasy tabs, as they turned toward the house. 'What do you want?' Dylan asked themself as they walked toward the house, looking for Robin, Derek, Charlotte, or Selene - any familiar face. The question was one they were poorly equipped to address. What they wanted had never been a factor. They'd been made for others' pleasure - a task they had been failing at all day. If not that, then what? What did they have for Robin? Questions swarmed as they made their way to the house, Dylan knew, but couldn't say what it was they wanted from Robin. To fold into her, disappear, be absorbed into a person. But they were a Freak.

Fuck. Because Izzy and I wrote Bukake Zombie Fuckpocalypse: The Return. We just didn't know it was prophetic.

Not guilty. My father was a SERIOUS fisherman and spent most of my early childhood (up to that unfortunate family court visit) trying to make me one too. I know the skills but take no pleasure in it at all. Next poster is extremely poorly skilled at something the enjoy immensely.

Fuck, just to make that marriage work for the reality show.

dungeon delver

Not guilty, although I spend a lot of my working day on EcchiDreams, I'm good enough at what I do that it doesn't impact my performance. Next poster has given a performance (open mic, concert, poetry reading, play, sex show, whatever) in the past month.

Not guilty. I am equidistant in all 4 cardinal directions from salt water. No beach to go to and so disinclined to engage with the American transit infrastructure that it's unlikely I will see salt water again before my death. Next poster expects to live to see better days.

open mind

Not guilty. Tough love is a brand name of being a dick. I say this as someone whose parents voluntarily surrender custody to the state in an act of "tough love". I do believe in consequences, but that is a different thing entirely. Next poster struggles with addiction.

That's tough. I am an atheist who borders on anti-religious. Technically, not a religion, but I am happy about it, though there's not a lot to adhere to, Guilty, I guess? Maybe, kinda not at all. Next poster knows how I should plead on this and had some legal background.

Not guilty. Despite almost a year in a war zone, I never had cause to fire a shot in anger. Next person has a kink their significant other(s) doesn't know about.

as the nude commander examined the new frame the carrier pilot chimed across the all hands push, "With the thrusters working at peak efficiency transit to Firebase Delta Foxtrot will be reduced to 10 minutes. Scans show no sign of pursuit. Gears, get to the Frame bay - looks like we have another newbie and some old friends to patch up."

Nit guilty. I have never gone, it looks like fun though. Next poster has gone hot-air ballooning.

Guilty. Bowl. But, after that second quart of beer, it gets MUCH worse. Next poster has smoked opium.

Sucking dick isn't illegal, unless you get paid for it. Guilty? Next poster has been handcuffed and taken away in the backseat of a cop car.

Emily could feel the Hive Frame like a lover's caress through a heavy quilt. There were hardware locks on the interface. Normally it wouldn't be much of a problem, but the chipware that converted the pilots thoughts into code for the cybernetics had been smashed. The sexual energy and euphoria that lingered with Emily was enough to push through, to reach the Frame's isolated, half numb psyche through the quilt. It reacted, following Emily's urging towards the carrier. It was confused and frightened, and because of that, slow. A hail of solid rounds and searing energy washed indiscriminately over Patune, Granite Scyllia and the new Frame. Granite returned fire as everyone hooked on. The liberated Hive frame shield away from the fire as Ya fought Patune's desire to fight back. The Hive's remaining heavy Frames concentrated fire on Patune, tearing away chunks of flesh and armor before the carrier had them clear. As they spun towards the sea, the Hive frames continued firing at the Union carrier. They had not fired a single shot at the Kaiju. Magda could feel Patune's frustration. "Easy boy," she purred, finding the tendrils that filled her sex. She caressed then with delicate fingers and felt the Frame begin to spiral inside. "Yes, big brother...." She sang softly as she gave herself over to him, letting him pump another tentacle into her throat. His pleasure compounded hers, which compounded his. With each second she felt the sexual energy building and with it Patune's anger fading. She rewarded him by using both hands to jerk off the thick tendrils that were stretching her cunt so exquisitely. The commander dove headlong into Patune's consciousness inviting him to push her over the edge so she could pull him after. It didn't take long before the big frame's consciousness went white with pleasure and Magda moaned onto the thick nerve bundle that filled her mouth. As their orgasm dissipated, Magda lay in her nest of nerve fiber and neurotransmitter slime sharing her bliss until he was calm enough for her to leave. She hooked into the carrier's comnet, "Good job everyone, but we're going to need an engineer in the Bio frame bay." She disentangled herself and climbed out of her cockpit, naked and glazed with the dark neural fluid. She ran through the bay to the new frame and climbed up to the open cockpit. "Emily? You okay?" She called.

Not guilty. I work WITH a family, but none are kin to me. Next poster has worked for a Fortune 500 company.

Guilty. Haven't owned underwear since 1980 or something. Next poster has been a lifeguard.

Torture Garden

hidden agenda

Not guilty unless you count dog toys, most of which the dogs have unstuffed. Next poster has fought cancer.

Guilty. I used to draw (remarkably badly) but I did enjoy it. Then I remarried and there wasn't time for it any more. Too slow. Not guilty, did it about 3 months ago and don't drive far daily. Next poster loves rompope.

Not guilty. I like it, but I'm not really a fan of any genre. I tend to like specific bands or musicians. Next poster owns a Love and Rockets album on vinyl or (yikes!!) cassette.