Speed Writing 7/19/17


Prompt: I don’t normally share the Exquisite Corpse exercise, but this one is rather good. I composed the first line, the rest was in the hands of my fellow attendees.

Vegetables went on the attack, killing thousands.

Broccoli speared the advancing armies; the greening of Terra.

Mushrooms made short work of the fallen soldiers.

Carrots moved swiftly which made them good scouts.

Henry and June tried to fight the nasty mushrooms off, but were pinned against the wall, and had no way to get out.

Just then, the pea brigade rolled in to form a ramp for the snowpeas.
“Timmy, I swear to God, if you don’t stop playing with your food, you’re going to get an ass whooping.”


Prompt: haiku, theme – ‘winter’


frozen wonderland

thick sheets of ice coating all

my face in freezer


dog park’s yellow snow

paw prints in the white snowfield

howls from wolves within


us? a white christmas?

not likely – running AC

holiday custom


white-out conditions

chains on the tires, dress warmly

breath a heavy fog


Prompt: (each of us randomly pulled a quote) “You ought never to sass old people unless they sass you first.” – Samuel Clemens


“Grandpa, you remember all those times you threatened to beat my ass with a switch?”
“Yes, my dear …”
“Answer me correctly, worm!”

“Yes, mistress!”

I brought the quirt down on his wrinkled bottom with a vicious swipe.
“Thank you, mistress!”
“Good, worm … good.”

I have some odd customers, and Gordon was far from the weirdest.

He clearly wanted more, as he let one hand quiver on the post.

Are you about to let go, you wrinkled bastard?” I shouted. “Do you think I’ll cut you any slack because you’re my grandfather?”

He wasn’t really, but it was part of his fantasy.
“N-no, mistress.”
I laid into his naked buttocks like my life depended on it. Blood began to rise to the surface of the skin.
“So,” I said, as the beating continued, “you can hold on to the post!”

“Y-yes, mistress.”
I could tell he was very excited, approaching orgasm. Best to push him over the edge. I worried about Gordon’s heart at his age.
“You sick, perverted piece of shit, perving on your own granddaughter …”

That was it, there he went.
I stopped the beating, watching him try to hold on to the posts for real.
“Th-thank you, mistress.”
“Perverted fucking worm.”


Prompt: money, swish, calmly, resplendent


I took Gordon’s money once he’d cleaned up his mess.
“Same time next week, Mistress Katherine?” he asked calmly.

“Certainly, Gordon,” I replied, swishing the quirt in his direction.

“May I say you look positively resplendent in your new pink leather outfit, mistress?” he said as he went to the door.
You may, Gordon. After all, your visits helped pay for it.”

As the door closed behind him, I lay back on the rack – usually there just for show – and sighed.

This is what a liberal arts degree was good for in the real world. Mistress to a bunch of submissive men with fat wallets.
Hell of a way for a theology major to make a living.

Prompt: a list of six words, given one a minute, that I can’t remember

“Sorry, Mac, your car got towed, it’s in the impound.”
“You’re fucking kidding.”
“I gave you money, asked you to watch it, keep the meter fed.”
“Yeah, well, I needed a pack of smokes. When I got back, the truck already had your car hooked up.”

A wave of nausea made me put my head down, like I was bowing to this dumb sumbitch.

“Hey, Mac, you okay?”
I stood up, resolved to splatter him if I did vomit.

“No, I’m not okay. I left you to watch my car. I’d have been better off delegating the job to a fucking pigeon!”

I took the ticket from him, and pulled out my phone. I transposed numbers dialing, and got a massage parlor.

I was going to lose the rest of the afternoon anyway – get my car, or get a massage?

I stood at the entrance to Happy Calm Time, and smiled.
I’d get the car back tomorrow.


listening to: “Street Fighting Man” – Rolling Stones
Mood: content

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