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Bright sunlight shined across a broad blue sky as villagers hustled this way and that, getting ready for what was to come that night. Wind bristled through the trees, acting as a harmonic backdrop to loud voices calling out, giving orders on what was to go where. The village square was the center point for the commotion as a large pyre was being erected by strong men with deep golden brown skin. It was the first day of Spring, a day the village had celebrated in similar fashion for over fifty years since its founding.
William Bronson hustled over the bare patched earth that had been trampled many times over by both local commerce and foreign merchants who visited their village on such occasions as this. He was assisting with one of the large logs that had been chosen for the fire this evening, sitting it straight up next to the others. He wipes the bark from his hands on a brown jerkin, dusty and aged from wear. Underneath, he wore a reasonably clean white tunic tucked into a pair of simple cotton tan pants. His feet were bare, but that didn't trouble him as callouses padded his soles. Broad shouldered and tan-skinned, William stood heads over some of the other boys who had enjoyed twenty years in that world, same as him. A life of farming and the occasional blacksmithing had made his arms strong and many of the local village girls found him comely, a luxury he had used to his advantage on certain occasions when he had come of age. His hair carried a dark hue down over his forehead with an odd blue sheen that could not be explained. His eyes were the same color as the syrup harvested from the surrounding woods and flecked with light green all around.
“William…William! Over here, lad”, called Sven, an old merchant he had known since his boyhood. Sven had always been kind to William and often brought him trinkets he found during his wanderings and trading. Sven, well into his fifties, seemed to be struggling with a large barrel from the back of his wagon, most likely carrying some of the beer and ale for tonight's festivities. William was quick to react and jumped to help Sven get the cask down.
“Careful, old man”, he cracked with a smile and handling the barrel with ease. “It never ceases to amaze how you make such travel look so easy.” William walked the cask to the side of the cart and set it down, knowing the officers of tonight's festival would no doubt come for it when it was needed.
“It’s…never been easy, lad. Even…even when I was as young as you”, he said, taking a small cloth from his pocket and wiping his brow. “If you’d ever get out of this village, you’d know it. A boy like you would do well on the outside. Maybe apprentice yourself to a city blacksmith since you seem to take such a keen interest in it”, Sven said as he sat down on the edge of the cart. The villagers continued to bustle about them, with other merchants lining their carts close to the village center to sell their wares. “Even so, I do love coming back here this time of year. The mountains are a refreshing site and the smell of spring seems stronger here than anywhere I’ve ever been.”
“William!” Another voice called. This time it was one of the cooks, a squat man with a messy apron and an oversized brown mustache that made it difficult to see his mouth moving.
“I’ll see you later, Sven”, William said light heartedly and headed off at a small trot, his large feet kicking up light dust in his wake. He came to a halt in front of Rickard, a man whom William had stolen some bread from in his youth as a prank with friends and paid for with a good month of cleaning stables. “Rickard. Whatdya need?” Will asked, not impolitely.
“Getting short on dandelion for the soup and seeing as the other lads are busy at the moment, I need you to run out and grab me some. Can ya do it?” Rickard asked, being forced to look up slightly at William as he stood a head and a half taller.
“How much?” William asked, nodding his consent.
“Bout this much should do”, Rickard said, handing him a small pale. “Be off with ya then. Need these as soon as ya can get 'em.” Rickard turned to go back to his establishment to finish off whatever else he had cooking. William thought for a moment and knew that the most likely place to find what he needed was near the anthousai borders. They had come to an understanding with the anthousai, and as long as he asked one politely, he should be allowed to get what he needed.
Will turned with the pale to the south gate, hurrying out at a decent pace that put him at the border within ten minutes. He was careful not to tread on any of the nests of flower gardens as he did so. The easiest way to remember where their borders were located were the ornate walls of old ruins that were found surrounding the village. Some said they had been the ruins of an elder race such as the Elven, but not even the elders knew for sure and very few scholars visited their town to confirm or deny such tales. William soon stopped, feeling fresh blades of grass underneath his toes and smelling the sweet lilac scents of the trees surrounding the ruin.
“Hello there”, William called, wondering if anyone familiar was around. He had come to know some of the anthousai from his childhood, even played with them during long summer days and evenings. They were different, and yet similar to him at the same time, so he had never been shy when visiting this gardens. His eyes scanned over the ivory-covered grey walls, noticing bits pieces crumbling while new flowers began to blossom in the crevices. There seemed to be no sight of anyone, but he knew better than to think he was alone amongst the flowers.
----------------------------
Ethan Hunt, aged 45, drove casually down the side streets of a quiet suburb, glancing at the houses and their pristine lawns as he went by. The temperature was perfect and the flowers were starting to bloom. It was late in the summer and within one month, classes would begin at the local college campus. The cookout he had been invited to was meant to be a celebration for his friend Marcus’ little Emily. She had just been accepted to their local university where Ethan would be teaching. Fond memories of little Emily flowed through his mind as he turned onto a street littered with parked cars. It was easy to see where the party was even without knowing the directions like the back of his hand. He and Marcus had known one another for many years now, having met at the college where her dad was the Dean of Students.
Parking behind a red Honda in his black Hyundai Veloster, Ethan stepped out and retrieved the present he had picked out for Emily from the back seat. It was a collection of perfumes and oils he had picked up from the local mall. He wasn’t sure what she liked, but he thought he couldn’t go wrong by choosing things that smelled nice that she could use. After checking both directions, he hurried across the road in his smart casual dress shoes and khaki pants matched with a well-fitting white collared shirt. Some might say he was overdressed but those who knew him understood that he was a little eccentric being a professor of history at the college. Instead of checking at the front door, Ethan went to the left and through the open door of the privacy fence, hearing and seeing many friends and family he had known for years in the well-kept backyard Marcus was so proud of.
“Marcus!” Ethan chimed in his charming voice, some of the other guests turning around when they heard someone suddenly shouting over the tumult of sound from multiple conversations. The grill was burning where Marcus stood flipping hamburgers wearing that silly “Best Chef” apron he tormented Emily with when her friends would come over.
“Ethan, you scoundrel! So glad you could make it. Y’know, for a professor who studies periods of time, you sure are late an awful lot.” Marcus smiled and shook Ethan’s hand, directing him to put the present down with the rest that his friends had brought for Emily.
“Is she here already? Am I missing her in the crowd?” Ethan asked, putting his arm around Marcus’ shoulders in a sort of sideways hug with the other hand now in his pocket. He glanced this way and that searching for that cute little button of a girl he hadn’t seen in years, at least not since her Freshman year in high school.
------------------
Chaos. Unrelenting chaos. That is all that can be said now. The city, ravaged by an unknown mutation brought about by a complicated and multiplying fauna. No one had known that these days would come, the days that would lead the city to ruin. Zombified-men and women walked the streets now, trash lying about the ground, with open copulation occurring in the streets for those who had yet to be mutated and those who had not. This was the current state of the city. Men and women of science had tried for years to understand how the beings worked, how they multiplied, but the breadth of the disease was unfathomable at this point.
But that part of this story resides further in the future, much further. The beginning is where all things should start, and it will be thus for this story. Rewinding decades into the past, the city witnessed only moments ago is normal, prosperous, noisy with the commotion of normal men and women on their way to normal jobs in their normal lives. No one could possibly know that danger was right there on their doorstep. Just beyond, in the wooded parts on the outskirts of the city, strange mutations in the local fauna began to occur thanks to land waste from a certain chemical company performing experimentation on growing larger foods to feed more people.
Now, underground, surrounding roots of trees located near water basins inundated with these byproducts and sometimes finished chemicals, larvae began to grow, slowly burrowing their way to the surface for a taste of the sunlight above and the rains that occasionally fell to moisten their small, fleshy bodies. Above all, their need to breed, even at such a young age, was a large driving force for their journey to the surface. The first spawned above ground on a spring afternoon, hidden by brambles and brush.
"Squeeeee", was what could be heard by local wildlife that still dared to populate the area. While some were curious, most would avoid it because of the smell that was only detectable by animals. Humans would never be able to smell the pheromones coming from the creature as it wiggled its way under bushes, following the sounds of the city, not knowing that its presence might be unwelcome or that it would ultimately be dangerous. The city was still miles away, though, so there was plenty of time for it to travel.
-------------------
“Oh don’t worry, my little snake. You’ll learn in time. You certainly are a feisty one. The customers will love that, and so will my staff.” This would be the last thing Tom had heard before he was knocked out by the large fist that smacked him in the back of the head. She had not been worried in the least when he pulled a dagger on her. She was irked, however, by the small cut he had managed to make on her favorite leathers.
They would have expected such things but did not see a reason for worry. There would be a price on his head as soon as he left the brothel anyway. It was better that she decide price for him here. She waited patiently for him to regain consciousness while his clothes had been removed, leaving little on his body. He was strong, his body lean just as she had expected from the description given to her. She licked her plump lips, thinking of all the wonderful things she could do with him here, not for herself but for her clients. He would soon realize who he would be expected to “entertain”.
The whip gave him a small “thwack” on the left shoulder, just enough to sting but not enough to leave a mark. A silky leather tip glided along his collar bone and touched his cheek where he had been washing his face. The Owner brought it away, glancing at the slightly sullied gray leather there in front of her.
“It will have to do for now, little snake. Now, who do you serve here?” The question was guiding with an air of dominance. She would not be refused but her voice was feminine, sultry, and hung in the air waiting for the answer. Light shuffling could be heard from the minotaur standing just off to the side, watching with his arms crossed while the Owner waited for her answer.
“Oh, and don’t think to look for your things. They’ve been taken away so you won’t try anything so reckless ever again. I should have you tossed into the stockades with the others, but I have plans for you, my lovely.” She purposefully taunted him with feminine names of affection, intending to drive the point home of what she would have him doing for her here.
William Bronson hustled over the bare patched earth that had been trampled many times over by both local commerce and foreign merchants who visited their village on such occasions as this. He was assisting with one of the large logs that had been chosen for the fire this evening, sitting it straight up next to the others. He wipes the bark from his hands on a brown jerkin, dusty and aged from wear. Underneath, he wore a reasonably clean white tunic tucked into a pair of simple cotton tan pants. His feet were bare, but that didn't trouble him as callouses padded his soles. Broad shouldered and tan-skinned, William stood heads over some of the other boys who had enjoyed twenty years in that world, same as him. A life of farming and the occasional blacksmithing had made his arms strong and many of the local village girls found him comely, a luxury he had used to his advantage on certain occasions when he had come of age. His hair carried a dark hue down over his forehead with an odd blue sheen that could not be explained. His eyes were the same color as the syrup harvested from the surrounding woods and flecked with light green all around.
“William…William! Over here, lad”, called Sven, an old merchant he had known since his boyhood. Sven had always been kind to William and often brought him trinkets he found during his wanderings and trading. Sven, well into his fifties, seemed to be struggling with a large barrel from the back of his wagon, most likely carrying some of the beer and ale for tonight's festivities. William was quick to react and jumped to help Sven get the cask down.
“Careful, old man”, he cracked with a smile and handling the barrel with ease. “It never ceases to amaze how you make such travel look so easy.” William walked the cask to the side of the cart and set it down, knowing the officers of tonight's festival would no doubt come for it when it was needed.
“It’s…never been easy, lad. Even…even when I was as young as you”, he said, taking a small cloth from his pocket and wiping his brow. “If you’d ever get out of this village, you’d know it. A boy like you would do well on the outside. Maybe apprentice yourself to a city blacksmith since you seem to take such a keen interest in it”, Sven said as he sat down on the edge of the cart. The villagers continued to bustle about them, with other merchants lining their carts close to the village center to sell their wares. “Even so, I do love coming back here this time of year. The mountains are a refreshing site and the smell of spring seems stronger here than anywhere I’ve ever been.”
“William!” Another voice called. This time it was one of the cooks, a squat man with a messy apron and an oversized brown mustache that made it difficult to see his mouth moving.
“I’ll see you later, Sven”, William said light heartedly and headed off at a small trot, his large feet kicking up light dust in his wake. He came to a halt in front of Rickard, a man whom William had stolen some bread from in his youth as a prank with friends and paid for with a good month of cleaning stables. “Rickard. Whatdya need?” Will asked, not impolitely.
“Getting short on dandelion for the soup and seeing as the other lads are busy at the moment, I need you to run out and grab me some. Can ya do it?” Rickard asked, being forced to look up slightly at William as he stood a head and a half taller.
“How much?” William asked, nodding his consent.
“Bout this much should do”, Rickard said, handing him a small pale. “Be off with ya then. Need these as soon as ya can get 'em.” Rickard turned to go back to his establishment to finish off whatever else he had cooking. William thought for a moment and knew that the most likely place to find what he needed was near the anthousai borders. They had come to an understanding with the anthousai, and as long as he asked one politely, he should be allowed to get what he needed.
Will turned with the pale to the south gate, hurrying out at a decent pace that put him at the border within ten minutes. He was careful not to tread on any of the nests of flower gardens as he did so. The easiest way to remember where their borders were located were the ornate walls of old ruins that were found surrounding the village. Some said they had been the ruins of an elder race such as the Elven, but not even the elders knew for sure and very few scholars visited their town to confirm or deny such tales. William soon stopped, feeling fresh blades of grass underneath his toes and smelling the sweet lilac scents of the trees surrounding the ruin.
“Hello there”, William called, wondering if anyone familiar was around. He had come to know some of the anthousai from his childhood, even played with them during long summer days and evenings. They were different, and yet similar to him at the same time, so he had never been shy when visiting this gardens. His eyes scanned over the ivory-covered grey walls, noticing bits pieces crumbling while new flowers began to blossom in the crevices. There seemed to be no sight of anyone, but he knew better than to think he was alone amongst the flowers.
----------------------------
Ethan Hunt, aged 45, drove casually down the side streets of a quiet suburb, glancing at the houses and their pristine lawns as he went by. The temperature was perfect and the flowers were starting to bloom. It was late in the summer and within one month, classes would begin at the local college campus. The cookout he had been invited to was meant to be a celebration for his friend Marcus’ little Emily. She had just been accepted to their local university where Ethan would be teaching. Fond memories of little Emily flowed through his mind as he turned onto a street littered with parked cars. It was easy to see where the party was even without knowing the directions like the back of his hand. He and Marcus had known one another for many years now, having met at the college where her dad was the Dean of Students.
Parking behind a red Honda in his black Hyundai Veloster, Ethan stepped out and retrieved the present he had picked out for Emily from the back seat. It was a collection of perfumes and oils he had picked up from the local mall. He wasn’t sure what she liked, but he thought he couldn’t go wrong by choosing things that smelled nice that she could use. After checking both directions, he hurried across the road in his smart casual dress shoes and khaki pants matched with a well-fitting white collared shirt. Some might say he was overdressed but those who knew him understood that he was a little eccentric being a professor of history at the college. Instead of checking at the front door, Ethan went to the left and through the open door of the privacy fence, hearing and seeing many friends and family he had known for years in the well-kept backyard Marcus was so proud of.
“Marcus!” Ethan chimed in his charming voice, some of the other guests turning around when they heard someone suddenly shouting over the tumult of sound from multiple conversations. The grill was burning where Marcus stood flipping hamburgers wearing that silly “Best Chef” apron he tormented Emily with when her friends would come over.
“Ethan, you scoundrel! So glad you could make it. Y’know, for a professor who studies periods of time, you sure are late an awful lot.” Marcus smiled and shook Ethan’s hand, directing him to put the present down with the rest that his friends had brought for Emily.
“Is she here already? Am I missing her in the crowd?” Ethan asked, putting his arm around Marcus’ shoulders in a sort of sideways hug with the other hand now in his pocket. He glanced this way and that searching for that cute little button of a girl he hadn’t seen in years, at least not since her Freshman year in high school.
------------------
Chaos. Unrelenting chaos. That is all that can be said now. The city, ravaged by an unknown mutation brought about by a complicated and multiplying fauna. No one had known that these days would come, the days that would lead the city to ruin. Zombified-men and women walked the streets now, trash lying about the ground, with open copulation occurring in the streets for those who had yet to be mutated and those who had not. This was the current state of the city. Men and women of science had tried for years to understand how the beings worked, how they multiplied, but the breadth of the disease was unfathomable at this point.
But that part of this story resides further in the future, much further. The beginning is where all things should start, and it will be thus for this story. Rewinding decades into the past, the city witnessed only moments ago is normal, prosperous, noisy with the commotion of normal men and women on their way to normal jobs in their normal lives. No one could possibly know that danger was right there on their doorstep. Just beyond, in the wooded parts on the outskirts of the city, strange mutations in the local fauna began to occur thanks to land waste from a certain chemical company performing experimentation on growing larger foods to feed more people.
Now, underground, surrounding roots of trees located near water basins inundated with these byproducts and sometimes finished chemicals, larvae began to grow, slowly burrowing their way to the surface for a taste of the sunlight above and the rains that occasionally fell to moisten their small, fleshy bodies. Above all, their need to breed, even at such a young age, was a large driving force for their journey to the surface. The first spawned above ground on a spring afternoon, hidden by brambles and brush.
"Squeeeee", was what could be heard by local wildlife that still dared to populate the area. While some were curious, most would avoid it because of the smell that was only detectable by animals. Humans would never be able to smell the pheromones coming from the creature as it wiggled its way under bushes, following the sounds of the city, not knowing that its presence might be unwelcome or that it would ultimately be dangerous. The city was still miles away, though, so there was plenty of time for it to travel.
-------------------
“Oh don’t worry, my little snake. You’ll learn in time. You certainly are a feisty one. The customers will love that, and so will my staff.” This would be the last thing Tom had heard before he was knocked out by the large fist that smacked him in the back of the head. She had not been worried in the least when he pulled a dagger on her. She was irked, however, by the small cut he had managed to make on her favorite leathers.
They would have expected such things but did not see a reason for worry. There would be a price on his head as soon as he left the brothel anyway. It was better that she decide price for him here. She waited patiently for him to regain consciousness while his clothes had been removed, leaving little on his body. He was strong, his body lean just as she had expected from the description given to her. She licked her plump lips, thinking of all the wonderful things she could do with him here, not for herself but for her clients. He would soon realize who he would be expected to “entertain”.
The whip gave him a small “thwack” on the left shoulder, just enough to sting but not enough to leave a mark. A silky leather tip glided along his collar bone and touched his cheek where he had been washing his face. The Owner brought it away, glancing at the slightly sullied gray leather there in front of her.
“It will have to do for now, little snake. Now, who do you serve here?” The question was guiding with an air of dominance. She would not be refused but her voice was feminine, sultry, and hung in the air waiting for the answer. Light shuffling could be heard from the minotaur standing just off to the side, watching with his arms crossed while the Owner waited for her answer.
“Oh, and don’t think to look for your things. They’ve been taken away so you won’t try anything so reckless ever again. I should have you tossed into the stockades with the others, but I have plans for you, my lovely.” She purposefully taunted him with feminine names of affection, intending to drive the point home of what she would have him doing for her here.
The following is the only erotic writing that I have since I've gone through and removed myself from old conversations ^^' This one, however, is near and dear because it was written in response to my favorite RP partner so I hope it gives a pretty good example of my more erotic writing abilities.
Trapped. William was trapped. Not in the way he had been in his tiny village, closed within the confined walls of his childhood. No, this was sweet bliss; William was trapped in heaven. Though it became harder to breathe, the young man pursued the goal this exercise was meant to satisfy. Soft thighs clutched his head in an almost threatening manner. Rielle was much stronger than William had imagined and the arousal that drove her every instinct at this moment potentially served to harm him despite her own intentions. It did not matter anymore. Being trapped in that village and away from his love was a much more excruciating experience than any damage she could conceivably inflict upon his human flesh.
Rough hands gripped her hips and pulled her toward him just as she pushed his grizzly mane down between her thighs. She was a product of her lust, the sultry moans and groans escaping her lips cheering him on and calling for more. The tongue that was so gentle before was mashed against her with complete abandon, the flat and tip one and the same now as immense heat surrounded his every sense. The furs by this point were bound up underneath the spot Rielle’s bottom once lay before, her soft cheeks levitating thanks to the crutch of his strong arms. Hums rushed forth from his throat while swallow after swallow rid him of the thick mess that issued from her pleasure.
Just when William had thought it would take more to please his tiny lover, her wavering voice puddled into a large pool that finally toppled over, likely voiding Rielle of any reservations she once had and replacing her mind with a mush of heated yearning. Pleased, William bore the orgasm further, doing his best to hit every spot he could in her moment of complete abandon and taking in all she had to offer as she once did for him. His chest swelled and lips upturned into a smile as he felt the pride of knowing he could give back at least some fraction of what Rielle always made him feel: to be loved. The dancing tongue relaxed while soft lips took up the mantle, blissfully dancing over her wet folds and cleaning some of the mess on her thighs that he could reach.
“Pants”, William nodded in agreement, slowly letting Rielle back down to rest on the drenched portion of furs for which her orgasm was the major player. William was loathed to be parted from his warm home, but the melancholy was quickly thrown aside in the excitement of undoing his belt. Practiced hands had his bottoms off in mere seconds and tossed to the side before those same hands fixed the furs beneath them. The throbbing shaft of William’s manhood was hard to miss, dangling this way and that from the girth with which he was blessed. It would not take much to encourage the slippery juices of his precum to assist in their intended exercise following the last performance. A simple grinding of the head was all that would be required, though his contribution would be as a drop in the ocean compared to how drenched Rielle was now.
“Come here”, William whispered, a crack of lightning filling the night sky, soon followed by the roar of thunder that shook the air around them. Large hands handled her tender body gently, wondering if she felt the needles he often felt through his body following climax. He did not want to chance it and delicately turned her about, thick fingers grasping her hips to keep her steady. Those hands would not come away unsullied, her effluence lathering the tips of his fingers with her sweet nectarous fluids. Not long after Rielle would feel a meaty heat being lightly placed along her tail bone, the girth fixed on its set path. Hips moved the pulsating heat forward then back, forward then back. Not long after, a wet trail had been left over her flesh, the head threatening to unload its true contents.
“How…do you feel?” William asked, slowly maneuvering the top of his member down between her legs and running the length along her swollen lips.
Rough hands gripped her hips and pulled her toward him just as she pushed his grizzly mane down between her thighs. She was a product of her lust, the sultry moans and groans escaping her lips cheering him on and calling for more. The tongue that was so gentle before was mashed against her with complete abandon, the flat and tip one and the same now as immense heat surrounded his every sense. The furs by this point were bound up underneath the spot Rielle’s bottom once lay before, her soft cheeks levitating thanks to the crutch of his strong arms. Hums rushed forth from his throat while swallow after swallow rid him of the thick mess that issued from her pleasure.
Just when William had thought it would take more to please his tiny lover, her wavering voice puddled into a large pool that finally toppled over, likely voiding Rielle of any reservations she once had and replacing her mind with a mush of heated yearning. Pleased, William bore the orgasm further, doing his best to hit every spot he could in her moment of complete abandon and taking in all she had to offer as she once did for him. His chest swelled and lips upturned into a smile as he felt the pride of knowing he could give back at least some fraction of what Rielle always made him feel: to be loved. The dancing tongue relaxed while soft lips took up the mantle, blissfully dancing over her wet folds and cleaning some of the mess on her thighs that he could reach.
“Pants”, William nodded in agreement, slowly letting Rielle back down to rest on the drenched portion of furs for which her orgasm was the major player. William was loathed to be parted from his warm home, but the melancholy was quickly thrown aside in the excitement of undoing his belt. Practiced hands had his bottoms off in mere seconds and tossed to the side before those same hands fixed the furs beneath them. The throbbing shaft of William’s manhood was hard to miss, dangling this way and that from the girth with which he was blessed. It would not take much to encourage the slippery juices of his precum to assist in their intended exercise following the last performance. A simple grinding of the head was all that would be required, though his contribution would be as a drop in the ocean compared to how drenched Rielle was now.
“Come here”, William whispered, a crack of lightning filling the night sky, soon followed by the roar of thunder that shook the air around them. Large hands handled her tender body gently, wondering if she felt the needles he often felt through his body following climax. He did not want to chance it and delicately turned her about, thick fingers grasping her hips to keep her steady. Those hands would not come away unsullied, her effluence lathering the tips of his fingers with her sweet nectarous fluids. Not long after Rielle would feel a meaty heat being lightly placed along her tail bone, the girth fixed on its set path. Hips moved the pulsating heat forward then back, forward then back. Not long after, a wet trail had been left over her flesh, the head threatening to unload its true contents.
“How…do you feel?” William asked, slowly maneuvering the top of his member down between her legs and running the length along her swollen lips.