My Little Stories
four five few little stories are all that I wish to include, for now. There are others but they all suffer from serious incompletion issues or they are a bit too naughty or both. In time I may post them, in time the definition of "Yuck" may undergo a transformation and in time I may just toss caution to the winds and publish the damned things anyways. A little violence, sex and nudity shouldn't screw our society up anymore than it already is.
A light hearted look at being eaten alive by a surly, ill-tempered dragon and said dragon's post-prandial distress when he discovers he may have bitten off way more than he could chew. But the coming night will bring the greatest battle of the young dragon's life and that's when his Royal Gastric pain becomes quite possibly the greatest asset of his life.
Or, Probing Intellect Kills an Anomaly.
Probing Intellect is an emasculated member of an Avian space faring species who have committed a massive no-can-do, in that one of their starships blew itself into smithereens in a populated star system causing the system primary to go a bit whacko. Probing Intellect has been tasked to "FIX THIS" without delay and don't bother to return home if he fails.
Sleep walking is one thing, sleep flying is another. Sam Breckenridge is a middle aged burnout who suspects he may be suffering from some delayed, wild-assed, super doped, off the scale flashbacks from his shot down in flames, drugged past the point of no return youth. He's not and the reality is scary enough that he would prefer the flashbacks.
Writer's Note: This will become a series as I ran out of steam and ended it as Episode One. Stay tuned for Episode Two!
All that said in Part One plus: Yeah, I know the frontispiece image doesn't exactly create a sense of the story line but that was the best I could do in DAZ Studio, working with the free stuff as I usually do.
It's a freaky little story with a freaky little sort of happy ending, if you like freaky stuff.
JAWRK is an immortal multi-dimensional being who has never, ever had to punch a time clock. He (It, She?) is an artist whose medium is the Cosmic All itself, happily arranging galaxies, civilizations, time and space to satisfy the slightest artistic whim. But even those whom the Gods themselves worship can have moments when things fail to do as they've been commanded. But immortal multi-dimensional beings can fix anything; all it takes is a little Change.
A unhappy old man lays dying, bitching and moaning straight out and across the great line of life/death. An insignificant life, moved no needles and even his family will not mourn him, as he was quite unlovable throughout his miserable existence.
But one thing distinguishes this death from the trillions before and the trillions after: This death triggers a severe identity crisis in an ancient race of nearly immortal cosmic wanderers.
What a guy!
A really rank story, told in the most unwholesome way possible, and no, definitely not for the kiddies. There are plot holes, for those who seek to be superior connoisseurs of word craft perhaps you should count them out, but keep that info to yourself as I care not for your findings.
Oh yeah, this is but Part One, Part Two follows as they are posted as a pair.