The Randomness Of Selina : Year 2 Day 10 – Movie Pitch :

Pausing the revival of Fell8 to just pitch another movie. Not Unicorned Squirrels but more a Ready Player One meets Footloose meets Karate Kid meets Fight Club etc etc.

Ready?

Set in the not too distant future video games have been banned because they were basically too violent.

World Leaders ordered this the same day they declared war on some country, shrugging off the carpet bombing of a school as acceptable collateral damage. But still they got to do something about those pesky violent video games.

Prior to the ban video games was a multi billion dollar industry with e-sports rising in popularity. Yet with video games of any sort being outlawed (including Mario, the psychotic drug induced plumber that he is) e-Sports has been driven underground.

Lurking below the streets are illegal gaming rooms where gamers battle it out for real money. As a result criminal gangs are involved recruiting the best players to play for them.

For reasons that won’t be totally explained, driving something underground turns everyone into extras from Mad Max 3 : Beyond Thunderdome. They are being all unruly and shouty. The MC is androgynous who speaks in rhyme, because why the hell not.

Obviously the first rule of Gamer Club is not to talk about Gamer Club, except in chat rooms which is a perfectly acceptable thing to do.

Above ground things aren’t going totally well either. The city has an affluent area and a poor area where crime is spiralling. After all if you can no longer drop in Tilted with your Squad you might as well go out and cause real mayhem. Am I right?

Anyhow, all this shit will be explained before the credits because it’s a lot to get through.

Opening scene we meet Jazz, she’s the hero. A smart girl who is also an excellent gamer. Unbeknownst to her Father she sneaks off to the illegal gaming dens to win money which she donates to the poor area of the city (less expenses).

Her Father is really strict and forbids her to do anything. He says it’s because he cares for her but there is an opposite argument that he’s just being an overprotective dick.

In any event she does not listen to him and just does what she wants. So we have her, the rebel and the Father who is the most straight laced person ever to walk the planet.

Every night she sneaks out to go to the illegal gaming place and here she meets Ryan. He’s super dreamy and nice. Yet her rebellious nature means she’s going to play hard to get.

He relentlessly pursues her and eventually they do share a moment following an epic win on Crash Bandicoot.

Sitting on some scaffolding they totally overshare about their life before having their first kiss. Awww.

However, there is something he’s not telling her. After an unfortunate episode with Mega Man he owes a gang a lot of money.

Ryan is forced to join the gang and is forced to participate in the ‘Illegal Gaming Tournament Of The Year’ where the prize is one million dollars.

Jazz enters as well and for reasons that I am not obliged to explain they seem oblivious that each of them have entered the tournament and may very well meet each other.

What follows is a mix of them winning their respective rounds, their young love blossoming and her dad telling her more stuff she can’t do.

Eventually madly in love they reach the final – it’s Jazz v Ryan. She’s pretty cool about that and figured they love each other so it won’t matter who wins, they will share the money.

But on the eve of the Final things go horribly tits up.

Firstly her Dad finds out that she has been illegally gaming. He tells her how disappointed he is. Indeed he gets an entire Family Tree that dates back to 1682 to list all the members of the family she has pissed off with her disobedience.

She tells him she hates him and her Father locks her in her room. But she escapes and goes to find Ryan.

When she reaches his house she sees him speaking with the leader of the gang. Now he is proper evil so has to have an evil sounding name like El Bastard or Trevor.

She watches him leave and Ryan catches her eye. She runs off crying and he pursues her. She’s confused – first her Father and now Ryan. Why are men such dicks? Sadly there is insufficient runtime to consider that age old question.

Anyway Ryan says some old bullshit and confesses about his involvement with the gang.

They hug and in that moment he has burdened her with his problem whilst seemingly not willing to share the burden of her irretrievable breakdown of a relationship with her Father.

The Final arrives. The crowd are pumped and full on Mad Max extras.

Before Jazz enters the arena El Bastard approaches her. He tries to get her to join his gang but she refuses.

With glee he explains that if Ryan loses today he will be killed.

Still laughing (cos he’s a bastard) he tells her he has made a sizeable bet for her to win and if she loses he will kill her. A tad unreasonable.

Jazz is confused if she wins then Ryan would be killed. If she loses she will be killed. That is what is known as a dilemma.

The game starts and tears are forming in her eyes. Ryan does not know that she knows he will be killed if she wins. Nor does he know she would be killed if she loses. Ryan is pretty clueless.

Ryan spots that she is not playing as well and speaks to her through his headset.

Ryan: Jazz you’re losing on purpose

Jazz: No I’m not

Ryan: You’re better than this. Think what you could do with the money. What about that Emotional Support Armadillo Centre you want to open? Think of the kids that will benefit

Jazz: But……

Ryan: But what…

Jazz: You’ll die

With the revelation that Jazz knows, Ryan closes his eyes and throws the game. Jazz screams ‘No’ and begins to cry.

The unnecessary feral crowd go wild and when they go quiet the sound of El Bastard/Trevor clapping can be heard.

With tears in her eyes she pleads with Trevor not to kill Ryan, offering him her prize money.

Now that does seem quite reasonable. Trevor would have his winnings and the prize money. He’d be pretty well off for doing literally bugger all.

However, Trevor is a dick evidenced by the fact he walks with a cane but has no actual disability. Because he’s a dick we get a very long monologue. The upshot of it is that if he didn’t kill Ryan people will think he’s not a dick and it’s important that people recognise he is a dick and indeed fear his dickish ness.

Still pleading with him she challenges him to a one on one game. If he loses he lets Ryan live. If he wins he can kill both her and Ryan.

Trevor accepts the challenge. The match is set for one hour.

This allows us to have a tender moment between Jazz and Ryan. It also sets up a shocking twist.

She goes to the bathroom and is unexpectedly attacked. Her assailants crush her hands.

Bruised and broken she returns to the arena to face Trevor. But her hands are so damaged she can hardly pick up the controller.

Trevor laughs ‘If you cannot play you must forfeit’

The MC says ‘Do you forfeit? I need to know in a bit’

Everyone seems to stare at everyone for ages and then the door swings open. From the gloom emerges her Father.

He takes her hands and kisses her gently on the top of the head. Addressing Trevor ‘She cannot play. I will take her place’.

Trevor laughs at the fact some grey haired old guy has challenged him but accepts.

Now it turns out that Jazz’s Father was a pro-gamer before the ban with his own Twitch channel and everything. He only became boring and a bit dickish when they banned video games.

In an epic battle Jazz’s Father defeats Trevor and the crowd go wild.

Trevor says something but Jazz’s Father turns around and punches him in the face saying ‘Leave my daughter alone’.

Jazz tells her Father she loves him and they along with Ryan leave the arena to the sound of the crowd cheering.

Now of course Trevor is such a bastard that he’ll probably arrange for them to all be killed. However, for now, as the end credits roll let’s just enjoy this heartwarming moment.

The End.

The Randomness Of Selina : Year 2 Day 9: Fell8 – The Part Where It Starts

I’ve killed him.

Lorna sat up and stared over at the lifeless body that occupied the driver’s seat.

Moments earlier she had been engaged in some fervent sucking of the recently departed’s cock. Lorna was good at oral sex, it was her thing.

Her peers may excel at sports or have the business acumen to be a CEO of a large corporation but Lorna doubted that any of them could suck cock quite as good as her.

Perhaps her skill did not have the same sort of prestige. Her peers now enjoying accolades coupled with more money that they could conceivably spend but Lorna at least would get a high five and some chicken nuggets as a reward for her talent.

Now in her mid twenties she had floated through most of life without a single care. It was not perfect by any means, ending up in countless dead end jobs that kept her stuck in a crummy flat. Yet whenever she would curse her poor decision making she always sought solace in her talent.

That is what she tried to focus on as she desperately tried to avoid looking at the corpse next to her. At the same time she was eager not to glimpse her reflection in the window. If she saw the consequence of what had occurred it would be too much. Feeling it run down her face was bad enough.

She was beginning to panic, fumbling for her phone as she desperately tried to control her breathing. Who could she call? Paramedics? Police? How the hell was she going to explain what had just happened.

‘Hi, yes.. can you send an ambulance I just gave my boyfriend a great blowjob and he died’

Lorna let out a scream. No way was she telling them that… he wasn’t her boyfriend!

He was just some guy she had met only a few hours beforehand. She had felt compelled to give him a blowjob because he had offered her a lift home in the rain and made the attractive decision to pick up some nuggets on the way.

Even if she went with ‘death by sucking’ it wouldn’t really explain why he…..Lorna let out another scream.  Tears were beginning to well up in her eyes but she dare not look in the mirror to check if her mascara was running. Neither did she want to touch her face in case it was not tears she was wiping away.

Lorna took a deep breath and said out loud “Think. Come on. Go over what just happened”

Not that doing so would help the poor dead soul next to her but at least she could get her story straight before the Police turned up.

She needed to be certain that she would not be blamed for his death. It was not so much the thought of prison but the indignity of the Trial that disturbed her most. All the sordid details of her lover’s demise would be laid bare, much to her shame.

No doubt the tabloids would have a field day. Exclusive interviews with previous beneficiaries of her oral skills, describing in detail how good it was and for dramatic effect how relieved they were to have escaped death. What would they call her? The papers always come up with a nauseating name for killers, The Sucking Siren?

Her anxiety was building again and she began hyper-ventilating. Everything had been normal, he was hard, she had leant over gripping his member between her fingers. Lorna liked to do this thing where she would circle her tongue around the throbbing head all the while stroking the shaft. He had let out moan, nothing unusual there, she was expecting it. In fact she would have been offended if he hadn’t.

Her lips had enveloped the bulbous tip, she slowly proceeded to slide down the length prompting a further moan from the proud owner of this average cock.

Lorna was momentarily distracted by a hissing sound coming from the radio. It had definitely been on when she was sucking him because there was some sort of countdown and Lorna thought it would be amusing if she could make him orgasm before it had finished.

She therefore had increased the speed to which her lips moved up and down his shaft. This prompted more primal moans to emanate and she felt his hand on the back of her head.

Curiously, it was if he was trying to prise her off his cock rather than push her down further. She had just taken that as a sign of impending ejaculation. This suited Lorna because her mind was already drifting towards going home and watching something on TV.

So she had continued to bob her head up and down as fast as she could. His grip had tightened round her hair, he was hurting her a little but she was used to them getting a bit rough.

The Countdown on the radio had almost finished and when it reached ‘1’ her lover was making all manner of strange noises. Gurgling throaty moans as he gripped harder, his other hand flailing all about the place and hitting the window.

She knew she was good at this but even Lorna had not experienced such a reaction. This guy was about to explode.

And then he did.

Literally exploded.

Just as the countdown reached zero he had let out a roar. She could feel his cock harden, his body tense, all the usual signs of orgasm and then she got covered in it.

Not the warm, salty liquid she was used to but more a sticky, rusty smelling fluid as his head just burst, causing all manner of blood and matter to rain down on her head, which still bobbed up and down…

I was still sucking off a dead guy…

That thought alone was enough to send Lorna opening the passenger door and promptly vomiting. The chicken nuggets she had so enjoyed earlier splashing half digested on the gravel floor below.

.. I kept on sucking him whilst his brain was exploding over me.

More vomiting as the alcohol that had made the evening possible joined the nuggets unceremoniously onto the floor.

Lorna sat with her head out of the door, briefly enjoying the cool night air brushing over her clammy face. It was a a peaceful night, the only sound were sirens in the distance. She closed her eyes, taking in more of the cool breeze. She told herself that as soon as she opened them he would be there, his head back in place and all would have just been a dream. Nothing more than a cruel conspiracy between alcohol and her mind.

She slowly turned her head towards the driver’s seat, her eyes still firmly shut.

Please still have a head. Please still have a head.

Lorna’s eyes would not open. Her brain even in its frazzled state still tried to protect her from any further damage. But even her brain knew that it could not keep her from the horrific realisation forever.

So after three eyes open. One. Two. Three.

Oh fuck! He still doesn’t have a head.

More vomiting ensued but with her stomach empty she was reaching. Like a wolf may howl at the moon she was screaming at the putrid puddle below her.

After each hacking retch she would turn back to the body to once again confirm it did not have a head before returning to her screaming at the puddle.

This bizarre cycle continued for about fifteen minutes. Even her brain was unclear what she was hoping to achieve.

His head isn’t going to grow back you know.

Eventually Lorna relented with this futile pursuit and once again focused on what she was going to do.

Here she was in an empty car park with a guy who’s head had just exploded. She knew the area well enough to know that there were a few hotels nearby, she could go and seek help. But finding help wasn’t the issue. It’s what she was going to say.

‘Hi.. So, funny story. Giving this guy a blowjob and his head just burst… No. No.. His actual head.. Anyway come give us a hand?’

Lorna tapped her phone against her leg. She’s going to have to call the Police, there was simply no other option. But they’ll ask questions, like ‘ what were you doing in the car’ and ‘what the fuck has happened to his head’.

She doubted that the sudden and somewhat bloody absence of his head could be explained away by an underlying medical condition. Sure, if he had stopped breathing it could just be his heart or asthma. But an exploding head?

Lorna began to cry. No one would believe her. She would be branded a murderer. She let out a moan as she pictured the tagline the tabloids would use;

She likes to give head then take it.

Her breathing was becoming erratic. She wasn’t a bad person. She thought she had that agreement with life. She would never have any real aspirations and life leaves her alone. Yet for some reason life had decided it would be fun to leave her in a deserted car park with a headless corpse.

How could this have happened?

Had she acquired some strange super power? The ability to literally blow minds with her lips? However cool that may be it would make her culpable in his demise. She didn’t want to be responsible for what happened. There must be a rational reason why in the midst of a blowjob the recipient’s head would explode.

She could feel the panic begin to growl in her stomach soon to rise up through her throat and be released as bile onto the ground once more.

There was only one thing for it, she was going to have to dump the body. Her brain mulled over what initially seemed a perfectly reasonable suggestion.

No body. No crime. Right? She peered out in the thick darkness and it seemed life was willing to give her a hand with this predicament as the moon perfectly illuminated a small wooded area.

Just bury the body. Except she had no spade and a quick recon around the car revealed nothing that would be useful to dig a hole with.

Buy a spade. Whilst Lorna had always welcomed the convenience of late night shopping, she had seen enough crime programmes to know you don’t go buying spades late at night. She may as well just ask the cashier if they stock ‘Burying Bodies For Dummies’.

Just dump the body, it has no head after all. Unrecognisable. However much the thought of dragging a corpse into the woods appalled Lorna practically it was possible.

What about DNA? Well they had kissed but he had no head so that was not a problem but…

Oh fuck!

Lorna’s gaze fixed on his cock which still stood proud.

Welcome to DNA Central.

She stared transfixed at his member which strangely appeared larger. Lorna just looked at it until her brain offered another suggestion.

Cut his cock off.

No head. No cock. No crime.

Could she honestly mutilate someone? She begun to cry again and reached for her bag to grab a tissue. That’s when she saw it, a nail file. Her eyes moved back and forth from the shiny object to the hard cock.

With her hand shaking she pulled the file out and slowly moved it towards the erect member. Bile filled her throat, gagging as she gripped the tip of his penis, the file millimetres from the base of his shaft.

She gulped the bile back down her throat but her stomach immediately rejected the return and she began to gag more as she dug the file in to the skin.

Having never before cut off a penis Lorna did not quite know what to expect. She was expecting blood to come shooting out, yet that did not happen. Bizarrely, it felt like she was slicing into metal.

The file did not appear to be making any progress into the shaft. It just scraped along the surface until it snapped.

Lorna looked at the broken object then back at the penis which showed no sign of her attempted mutilation. How curious.

She returned to her bag hoping to find a better tool. As she rifled through the contents she knew it would be a futile exploration. Whilst she always had to triple check that she remembered her keys, she definitely knew she had not packed a machete.

Indeed, her bag seemed to be nothing more than a depository for those moist cleaning tissues you get from a takeaway restaurant … Plus a lot of tiny bags of salt.

She removed all the tissues from their packaging and began to wipe the dashboard, steering wheel and anywhere that may contain traces of Lorna. During this process she was quite pleased with herself. It was proof that she hadn’t wasted any of her life watching bland Cop shows and there was good reason to keep all those moist tissues.

All that remained was to clean the dead guy’s penis. She wrapped two tissues around the shaft and quickly rubbed up and down.

It was during this process that a loud bang startled Lorna. She quickly snapped her head towards the newly cleaned windscreen and staring back at her was a female. Her heart began to pound. This unknown woman was a witness.

A witness to her basically giving a handjob to a headless corpse.

A witness in a wedding dress.

The Randomness Of Selina : Year 2 Day 8 : Fell8 – The Part Before The Start

Lorna

Lorna stared out of the window and watched the rain drops collect on the windscreen. She liked how an individual drop would land on the glass and slowly slide downwards, gathering pace whilst collecting others on its journey.

The car radio was on but she was barely paying attention, this particular station had stopped playing any songs ages ago instead opting to have overly excitable reports about the Premiere of a new movie that was happening in London later.

She used her sleeve to wipe the condensation from the window and through the rain soaked screen she could just make out a couple holding hands, pausing briefly to share a kiss.

Lorna allowed herself to daydream, squinting her eyes through the blur so she could just make out the romantic couple.  The female had blonde hair and was in her late twenties just like Lorna . It was clear from the way the male companion held her that they were madly in love.

Lorna sighed. Maybe one day she would find someone special, that person who adored her for ever more. She was pretty enough but as she watched the male protectively shield his lover from the rain she knew deep down that she would never get to experience such devotion.

She had made too many questionable decisions to ever be worthy of such a life. Lorna closed her eyes tight, turning her head away from the amorous couple.

When she opened them again she was presented with his gormless, smiley face. The momentary daydream of the life not lived had made her almost forget about him.

She followed his eyes down towards his lap where he eagerly stroked his penis. Lorna allowed herself one last look back at the couple before lowering herself towards his lap.

Hoshi

Hoshi swore if one more guy dare touched her arse she would do some damage.

Can’t a tall, attractive Japanese female in her thirties wear a skin tight outfit that accentuates every curve without having guys pawing all over her? The answer should be yes but the reality was very different.

She was an experienced cosplayer and knew what to expect. Perhaps she was just jet lagged from her flight over to London and therefore a little over sensitive.

Stop moaning Hoshi and just enjoy yourself.

Hoshi concluded the amount of attention she was receiving was due to her choice of outfit.  She had gone all out and designed a very tight fitting version of a uniform worn by a character in an upcoming Sci-fi movie. Skin tight royal blue latex with a section cut out at the front to show off her ample cleavage.

The movie was only getting it’s Premiere tonight yet already the hype was unreal, destined to break every box office record.  It had been Hoshi’s intention to go straight from the convention to where the Premiere was being held, but the crowds… there would be touching.. endless touching.

Hoshi turned to leave the convention and decided instead to just go back to the hotel. As she began to walk she noticed a cute guy had been staring at her. She dropped her purse and slowly bent over to pick it up.

Just one more look then before I go.

Veronica

She ran her slender fingers along the length of her white nylon clad leg. She loved the feel of the bridal lingerie and would be sad to take it off as it would signal the end of her magical day where all eyes had been on her.

Veronica looked in the mirror and adjusted her tiara, she felt just like a princess. She smiled as she looked round the honeymoon suite of the Country Club that had been the venue for her dream day.

She never wanted it to end, wanted to savour every moment.

Everyone, including her gorgeous husband, was down stairs waiting for her to take his hand and glide to the dance floor for this fairytale to continue.

She tidied her long brunette hair and touched up her make-up. Her attention was drawn from the reflection of her pretty face to the man who entered the room; tall, dark and so incredibly handsome.

She could see the unmistakable outline of his impressive manhood as he strode towards her. She smiled. She had meant every word she had said to Richard when they exchanged vows. She would remain loyal, dutiful and be the perfect wife. But he need not know about this stranger in her room.

Her and Richard would have the rest of their lives but she just wanted that little bit more attention. After all, it was her day.

Elena

Elena stood at the sink, her hands deep in a bowl of soapy water. She could sense him behind her.

She knew that as soon as his wife had left to go and host some outside broadcast for a World Premiere that was happening that he would not hesitate to take advantage of being alone with her.

They would do it in the kitchen. He would have her wherever the mood took him but never in the bedroom. He would be quick, no doubt just slip in from behind and it will be over before she has had a chance to dry the soap from her hands.

She would put up no protest, just submit herself to his horny whim. He would not say a word to her afterwards, clearly racked with guilt. The only thing he ever said was to remind Elena not to tell his wife.

She never would say anything, Elena needed this job. She had been in England for only a few years, arriving from Romania barely out of her teens.

It may seem to an outsider she was just a lowly maid but here she was living in a three million pound house in the poshest part of London, why would she ruin that. Other girls like her had fallen into becoming an Escort to make ends meet. All she had to do was just allow him to use her everyone once in and while.

Her short dark hair stood on end as she felt his breath on the nape of her neck.

Taylor

Taylor stared at her shapely buttocks in the mirror.  Talk about being typecast, a girl from Georgia dressed in low cut tight jean shorts, checked shirt tied up at the waist, all finished off with boots and a hat.

She would certainly stick out in the crowd, the majority of which were in their finest tuxedos and ball gowns.

It had been the idea of the producers that the more minor characters should come to the Premiere dressed in their movie costume. She played the sassy bartender, she wouldn’t have minded so much but it was nearly winter in London and had been raining all day.

Jeez does the sun ever shine in this country.

Taylor unbuttoned the top of her shirt so that her plentiful bosoms clearly showed.  She was only in the movie for a brief moment but she did get to say one line;

“Y’all best leave this mess to me” she repeated back to her reflection before smiling, her long blonde hair perfectly framing her dazzling white teeth.

There would be a lot of important people here tonight. Her agent told her this movie was going to be huge, the most successful in history… And she was in it.

Tonight was her opportunity to make it big. No more waiting tables, this was it.

You’re gonna be a star.

She leaned and kissed the mirror leaving a perfect red lip stick mark. Giggling to herself she could hear the sound of heavy breathing coming from one of the cubicles, that unmistakable sound of passion.

Well looks like someone is starting this party early.

Merci

“Quick! Help me” Merci screamed to a stage hand as she struggled to wriggle into a 12 inch strap on.

It was her big finish, one she had performed countless times in her twenty years with her band Merci and the Masturbators.

As the final long deafening chords to their crowd favourite Life is just a dildo played she would emerge on stage stroking her large plastic dong. A big ‘fuck you’ to everything, to everyone.

The crowd would go wild as she, with her blue hair sparkling in the spotlights and her tongue firmly stuck out, bent over and stroked it furiously.

She had noticed the crowd was slightly smaller tonight which was probably on account of the big Premiere happening down the road. Everyone wanting to get a glimpse of the big star, Miss Carmel Ash.

But here in this small hall she was the star. So fuck you Carmel Ash, fuck you music producers who thought her music was too edgy, fuck you organisers who wouldn’t let her drink from the bar for free. Fuck you all.

Angie

Beads of sweat ran down her perfectly smooth ebony face as she raced down the stairs.

Stumbling on the last step, Angie Raines cursed herself for choosing to wear heels. But how was she supposed to know that today would require her to run for her life.  She would have worn more suitable footwear.

It should have been a normal day working in the lab of Harmony Pharmaceuticals. Nothing during her dull commute to work, her normal purchase of a Toffee Latte and the usual fumbling for her security pass ought to have told her that today she would be running for her life. Hell, even the security guard gave her his normal jovial morning greeting.

Should she have realised what was about to happen sooner? Could she have warned everyone so it could all be stopped? These thoughts dominated her mind as she clumsily made her way down the stone steps.

Why had she not said anything? About 27 minutes earlier when she made the discovery it had all been so obvious. The true purpose staring right back at her.  Despite having multiple qualifications and being top in her field of genetics she had been too stupid to see what was happening.

No, it wasn’t stupidity. It was fear. She knew what they were intending but did not say anything. She feared losing her job, her career, to be pilloried by her peers. Being black and female had made it hard enough to advance in this career. She couldn’t risk it all by making wild accusations.  But the proof had been right there!

She let out a screech of pain as her ankle turned over misjudging the final step.  She deserved that for the role she has played in all this.

She ran as fast as she could to her car.  The underground car park was quiet, the only sound was the clip clopping of her heels.  This was soon accompanied by the sound of other footsteps, more heavier ones.

They know.

She tried to increase her pace but every quick step caused flashes of pain to shoot up her leg.  Maybe she should just give up. Let them do whatever they intended. It’s too late anyway.

She stopped turning to look at her pursuers as they gained ground on her quickly.

No. There is always a chance.

Kicking off her heels she made one last desperate stride towards her car.

Wendy

Everything was horrid!

Wendy L’Amour leaned against the wall drinking what must have been her third glass of wine in as many minutes.

This ought to have been her proudest moment. Her novel, the one she spent years tirelessly writing was being brought to life on the big screen.  Millions more people will finally get to experience her epic story; yet the reality was this had become her worst nightmare.

Six years of her life had been poured into this book. Sleepless nights revising and editing to create her opus – The Fell. It was an intergalactic love story about an androgynous alien species  (The Fell) who, although incapable of love, fall for the earthly charms of a human.

It was a beautiful story. Every moment of the book perfectly choreographed to evoke the intended emotional response from the reader. Wendy had been particularly proud of a 25 page love scene – no mean feat considering The Fell did not possess genitalia.

She emptied her glass and let out a groan as she recalled that moment she sold her soul to the Devil.  In this instance, her soul was the rights to her book and The Devil was one Miss Carmel Ash.

She should have just refused. The book was selling well but perhaps giddy with her 4.6 out of 5 rating she had wanted more.

Her relationship with Carmel Ash started pretty badly and very quickly got worse.  Wendy recalled their first meeting where Carmel just sat there, her eyes covered by sunglasses, expressionless.

The bitch never smiles.

It was Carmel’s assistant that did all the talking; he was a weasly looking man who Wendy disliked. No sooner had the ink dried on the contract all the promises made went out the window. She wouldn’t be writing the screenplay, instead some arrogant upstart got that job and he changed everything.

By the time that little shit had finished with it her beautiful story was unrecognisable. Gone was the idea of love transcending everything and instead The Fell has been turned into horny little aliens.

The conflict was no longer internal, metaphors of the struggles with one’s identity and the expectation of society, it was now an actual fucking space war.

Wendy should have known it’ll be a disaster.  Especially when the only thing the Director of this CGI fuck up had previously done was a movie about fucking killer squirrels.

Wendy was distracted from her self loathing by a very attractive, leggy blonde in jean hot pants walked past en route to the bathroom.

And what has a fucking cowgirl got anything to do with it!

She would have continued with this internal rebuke but the lights went out. A dazzling light display accompanied by some  enthusiastic drumming signalled the arrival of the woman responsible for Wendy’s rage.

Carmel Ash dressed in a futuristic silver outfit walked up to the podium; her image portrayed on a big screen above her. The crowd cheered her arrival as the fit-inducing light show went into overdrive.

In a painfully stage managed way, she lifted her manicured hands above her head and brought them crashing down on an oversized red button in front of her.

The lights disappeared leaving everyone in darkness, the only illumination were the faint glow of hundreds of smart phones suddenly being thrust up into the air. The drums stopped and there was silence save for a few whoops and cheers amongst the assembled crowd.

Then emblazoned in the night sky of London a countdown appeared.

10

The crowd excitably begun to cheer and completely out of sinc joined in the countdown

9

Wendy looked up at the large numbers which seemed to signal the countdown to confirmation of the dissolution of her soul.

8

Angie screamed as her car failed to start.  Every day for five years it had started perfectly. Only when she is about to be killed by a number of unknown assailants does it decide to play up.

7

Merci stroked her giant strap on while mouthing ‘fuck you’.  This would normally rile them up but tonight they seemed more agitated.

You still got it, girl!

6

Taylor was about to leave the restroom when she heard a moan followed by a loud thud.

“Hey” she called out “You guys okay in there?”

There was no response and concerned she walked towards the cubicle.

5

Elena felt him pressed up against her. He seemed more aroused than he had ever been. His hands reaching round her, gripping her tight. This was going to be rough.

He seemed angry.

4

Veronica’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped as her dark stranger walked towards her.  He was virtually bursting through his trousers.

She was sure that was lust he had in her eyes.

3

Hoshi felt his hands grip her buttocks.

“Hey! Look but don’t touch” she exclaimed.

But the owner of these wandering hands gripped tighter. The momentum caused her to fall to the ground with the mysterious groper on top of her.

2

With her mouth full all Lorna could think was she wished he’d shut up.  His deep breathing and low moans were starting to become an annoyance. She felt like stopping to enquire if he was asthmatic.

She felt his hand on the back of her head as he gripped her hair tight.  Really tight.

1

The crowd were too preoccupied with the countdown to notice what was going on.

Carmel Ash just stood there, her eyes transfixed, a smile appearing on her lips.

The bitch never smiles

0

The world was about to turn to shit.

The Randomness Of Selina : Year 2 Day 7 : Fell8 Revisted

Having just celebrated my one year on Twitter followed by the first anniversary of this website another milestone is fast approaching – The first anniversary of when I started writing Fell8.

Fell8 was my first outright piece of fiction I wrote.

If truth be told I should have finished it by now. If I had my way I’d have finished about four stories by now but there we go.

Fell8 is a quite a special story to me. Not only is it a fun tale to write but it reminds me of some hilarious threads I was involved in during my early days on Twitter.

The idea for this story spawned from two discussions with the awesome Wednesday Noir, the lovely Daniele Light and the super Clara Zaynn.

The first was how’d we all fair in an old school horror movie and the second related to surviving a zombie apocalypse.

My answer to both was the same – I’d be having sex. At some point during the conversation and it may have been me who said it, I was sucking off zombies to survive the apocalypse.

And so the idea of Fell8 was born. Yet it wasn’t to be erotica. Indeed Fell8 (which in case you didn’t know is a play on the word fellate) was to signal my move away from erotica that I had concentrated on with the Of Selina series.

It was not necessarily a conscious decision but having decided that my zombies could only be killed by a blowjob it didn’t seem to work to have an explicit details.

Whilst the story is littered with references to penis I felt it worked simply as a bizarre way to kill someone.

Indeed, whilst there is humour in Fell8 a lot of that comes from the situation of how they have to kill the zombies.

Replace this unique method with the more traditional sword or gun and it’s just a straightforward zombie apocalypse story. But by making the main characters all female and having the only way to kill the advancing horde is by performing a sex act, you’d be surprised how many storylines open up.

I also wanted it to be very character driven and the eight main characters are all loosely based/inspired by some of my closest chums on Twitter.

The structure of each chapter intentionally plays out as if it were an episode of a TV series.

It was fun plotting each ‘episode’ especially as more than once I would say to myself ‘what creative way can I have them give a blowjob?!’

Violent. Ludicrous and completely wrong, it has been the funnest thing to write.

Therefore I could not simply leave it incomplete. Of all my stories I have started but failed to finish Fell8 would hurt the most.

Fell8 also marked my first foray into Wattpad, which equally hasn’t gone to plan.

Indeed you would only find the opening of Fell8 on this website and so I’ve got an idea.

For the benefit of all those nervous about hopping over to Wattpad I’m going to bring the story so far over to here.

Then maybe we will see about completing the damn thing.

Good plan?

The Randomness Of Selina : Year 2 Day 5 : Unicorned Squirrels II – The Next Bit

So the opening of the much anticipated sequel what is also a prequel saw us in World War II.

Following an epic air battle, crates carrying scores of Unicorned Squirrels sunk into the English Channel. I know you are all eager to find out what happens next.

Following the opening credits we move from the 1940s to 1992.

Now I was only 2 back in 1992 and remember nothing about it. I have therefore painstakingly researched that period so it is authentic. I think you agree that my research into World War II really paid off in the opening scene.

Construction of the Channel Tunnel (for those who are unaware that’s the tunnel connecting England and France) had progressed with the English and the French finally meeting in the middle. Fun Fact – The English got there first.

It is during the final stages of construction that our story begins.

We go deep into the tunnel and one side are the French workers and the British workers on the other.

Now, in writing the Unicorned Squirrels I have been careful never to opt for basic stereotypes. Instead my characters are more nuanced, detailing the subtle characteristics associated with a particular nationality.

So our scene begins with an English guy leaving a Port-a-loo toilet.

Dave: Woa! Lads I’d give it s few minutes if I were you.

Johnny: Here, how was it with that bird last night?

Steve: What bird?

Johnny: Y’know that sort who works down at the Cash and Carry

Steve: Yeh she was alright…… Not as good as your sister…..Or your mum.

A play fight ensues as the French workers look on, shaking their heads disapprovingly. One of the French workers digs his spade into the ground which gives way and he falls into a hole.

Dave: What’s happening over there?

Johnny: Silly French Bastard has fallen down a hole.

They walk over and join the French workers to investigate, peering down into the hole.

Steve (speaking into hole) : Hello?

Dave: He won’t be able to understand you….He’s French.

Steve: Well someone needs to go down and see if he’s okay

They all look at each other and then everyone looks at Johnny. He shrugs and reluctantly agrees to go down the hole.

He’s winched down the hole;

Dave: Can you see anything?

Johnny: No…but there’s definitely something down there

They winch him down lower when suddenly;

Johnny: Guys! Guys! There’s something here. Winch me back up! Winch me back up!

The others try to winch him up but the rope is going in the opposite direction….Fast.

Desperately they try to keep hold of the rope but it slips through their hands, nearly causing them to also fall into the hole.

They nervously peer into the hole

Johnny? Johnny mate?

Through the gloom of the hole something emerges. It is Johnny’s severed head.

They all scream and this is quickly followed by the French worker’s head being thrown up through the hole. They scream again.

Dave: What the f…. What the hell is happening.

He nervously peers over the side and he comes face to face with a Unicorned Squirrel bastard.

That’s right. The Unicorned Squirrels are here in the 1990s!

The Randomness Of Selina : Year 2 Day 4 : Opening To A Story I’ll Never Write

Carrie stood at the door with an inane, overtly happy expression on her face. This was her favourite well-used mask.

She’d just finished whispering orders to her son out of the corner of her mouth, reminding him to just ‘fucking behave’ and for the love of God remember to kiss Grandma.

Her fixed, happy expression broke briefly as she looked nervously behind at her car. But before that joyful mask could slip fully the door opened.

“Oh you’re here…Finally ” said her sister, Vanessa with just the right amount of passive aggressiveness that made Carrie want to rip her sister’s fake extensions out.

Instead Carrie breathed and offered the tray of pasta bake she had made to her sister.

Vanessa eyed it with contempt before dismissively telling her to put it on the table in the garden.

Forcing that happy mask to stay on her face she smiled and made her way through the house towards the garden.

The contents of her lovingly made pasta bake nearly spilled onto the floor as her son rushed past her, knocking her arm.

“Just beha…” she began to call out before realising the futility of her instructions; opting instead to end the sentence with a mumble of “little shit.”

Carrie stood in the kitchen and looked out towards the well manicured lawn where an ensemble of guests all chatted loudly.

She knew she would not be able to avoid them. Within moments of stepping foot onto the grass she would have to endure hearing about The Collins’ latest holiday to some place she swore has never existed.

And then Julie and I went backpacking through Mordor….So exhilarating!!

Or there would be Marie proudly listing the academic accomplishments of her darling son, Oscar. Cassie would only be able to counter with the proud fact that her own son had stopped sticking his head down the toilet.

Finally, there would be her Mother. Cassie could feel her mask slipping as she imagined the glee her Mother would take in listing all of Cassie’s failures. A particular past-time that her Mother could not resist to indulge in at every opportunity.

She took a deep breath. Just relax Cassie.

Go find toothless Grandma, kiss her and congratulate her on not dying before the party. Smile then get out of here before the real problems start.

Her thoughts were interrupted by two large hands gripping her shoulders. It was Rick, her husband or how her Mother described him – another one of your mistakes.

Rick was kind and loyal but his failed get rich quick schemes had met the seething disapproval of Cassie’s Mother.

“Why couldn’t you have found a reliable successful husband like Vanessa did?”

Vanessa’s husband was an accountant and together they lived the perfect life whilst Cassie tried her best to make ends meet because Rick had lost another chunk of their savings on some Pyramid scheme.

She could feel her mask slipping further and her inner turmoil guided towards the drinks table where she poured herself a large glass of wine.

“I take it I’ll be driving” said Rick

“Not now Rick” Cassie replied

“It’s just you promised that….”

“I said NOT NOW.”

She hated snapping at Rick. None of this was his fault, the stupid dumb lug that he was. She quickly emptied her glass before filling it straight back up.

Taking another swig she looked out towards the garden and her gaze fell upon her Mother who was already glancing at her with that disapproving look.

That’s it mum. Scowl at me. Because there is so much for you to be ashamed of.

It was true. Very shortly the fact that Cassie had raised a feral child and had a loser husband would be the least of anyone’s concern.

Very soon she’d be required to explain a lot more. Like why there was a pizza boy tied up in her basement, or why her boss was lying in his office unconscious and naked. Then there was the small matter of who Melody was. That’s before she’s even got to the part about the five million pounds sitting in the boot of her car.

Cassie looked at her phone and took a final gulp of her drink.

Best go kiss Grandma. The Police will be here in a minute.

Please Don’t F*ck The Soap : A Poem

Run through a field

Swing from a tyre

tied to a rope

Just remember

Don’t fuck the soap

Find that special someone

Kiss them.

Elope.

But whatever you do

Don’t fuck the soap

It’s your life to live

Your dream

Your hope

It’s just important that you

Don’t fuck the soap

Take your opportunity

Grab at it

Don’t grope

But I can’t stress this enough

Don’t fuck the soap

Be sure to love

Experience every romantic trope

All I ask is that you please

Don’t fuck the soap

Unicorned Squirrels 2 : It’s a Sequel what is also a Prequel – Introduction

A few months back I presented to you the movie pitch to The Overlord Unicorned Squirrels. No-one really asked for it but I did it anyway.

Equally there weren’t many demanding a sequel but guess what?!

Oh if you’ve stumbled on this page and want to know what is going on you can read the original movie pitch here.

Rather than this being an immediate follow on from the first movie US2 (all cool movies are abbreviated nowadays) will be a prequel.

There are a couple of reasons for this. Firstly I doubt any of the original actors would want to come back for the sequel.

Secondly, prequels are cool. It’s a way of sorting out all those awkward plot holes and pretend this was all part of your master plan. I mean Disney spent millions just to explain why there was a tiny hole in the Death Star that caused the entire thing to explode.

We’ll be doing nothing as elaborate but instead we will look at the origin of the Unicorned Squirrels.

Now eagle eyed readers and those who generally pay attention would have noticed that the original title to the first movie was The Overlord Unicorned Squirrels From Mars.

They are from Mars. We know that. There is no need for you to do this.

Well, what if I told you that they weren’t originally from Mars.

Whaaattt??!! That’s absolute bullshit

It may very well be but hear me out. The other day I was reading a three volume account of World War II by an eminent historian….okay I was watching a war movie…Alright, alright I was playing Call Of Duty.

Whilst randomly shooting some Zombie Nazis in the head shouting ‘Die you Zombie Bastard’ it struck me that an undead Nazi army is a recurring trope in a lot of video games and movies. There are also those random documentaries about Hitler and his obsession with the occult.

A lot of the time there is never really any evidence presented in these documentaries but just some random bearded dudes who desperately want Raiders Of The Lost Ark to be true.

If it’s not the occult then Hitler was always trying to build some superweapon to annihilate the Allies.

So what if………..

Unicorned Squirrels 2 will open with a shot of a scary castle. There are swastika flags flying and soldiers marching. In case the viewer needs any further clue that we are in Germany during the war it will say ‘Germany – Sometime during World War II’.

In the dark depths of the castle we are introduced to a man who looks the sort to perform evil experiments. He’s tall, bald with cheek bones that have caved in. He has an eye patch and scar and speaks in a sinister German accent.

A German soldier addresses him in subtitles.

Soldier: Herr Schrinklestein

(yep he’s the grandfather of Professor Schrinkle from the first movie -see Prequels make sense)

Schrinklestein: What is it?

Soldier: Is it done?

Schrinklestein: Tell our glorious leader that we are ready

Then he laughs maniacally just in case it hasn’t been made clear that he’s an evil bastard.

Whilst laughing he turns to a stack of crates. What could be inside you are wondering? Right?

We watch as the crates are loaded into a bomber plane and we cut to the German war room where helpfully what is happening is explained (in subtitles to give it some gravitas).

Random Soldier: The plane is en route to Britain

Random General: Good. Good. Soon Britain will be annihilated.

They all laugh – that bit doesn’t have to be in subtitles.

So with the plane on its way we cut to ‘A field in England’. There we witness a damaged spitfire coming into land. Ground crew and a nurse rush towards it; smoke billows from the engine.

Through the cloud a man emerges from the cockpit. He is dressed in a brown leather bomber jacket and flight helmet. His left arm is severely injured, virtually hanging off with jets of blood pumping out.

Captain Smith : I say chaps things got a little rough up there

Ground Crew Member Tommy : Sir are you okay?

Captain Smith (looking at his arm still spurting blood) : What this? Just a scratch. Nothing that a sip of whiskey can’t sort.

As they chat a siren sounds and further ground crew rush out.

Crew Member: German bomber on its way

Captain Smith: Not on my watch.

Crew Member: But Sir, your arm?

Captain Smith: Oh that’s nothing a sweet smile from Nurse Jenkins cannot solve.

Nurse Jenkins: I’m a qualified nurse and you need stitches and antibiotics

Captain Smith: Quite. But just don’t forget that smile

Captain Smith moves towards the plane and puts his hand on the ladder to climb into the cockpit, his arm falls off.

He picks it up and throws it to Nurse Jenkins;

Captain Smith: Look after this for me. I’ll need it when I get back

Nurse Jenkins: Sir, if we don’t reattach that arm now you’ll likely bleed to death.

Captain Smith: Nonsense the thought of your pretty face is enough to keep my heart pumping.

Ground Crew Member Tommy: But Sir you only have one arm. How are you going to fly a plane?

Captain Smith: Mmmm You’re right. With me Tommy

Tommy: But I can’t fly a plane, Sir.

Captain Smith (laughing): I can fly the plane Tommy I need you to hold my pipe.

They get into the plane and fly off towards the German bomber which is nearing the shores of England.

We witness an epic air battle as Captain Smith’s spitfire attempts to bring down the giant German bomber.

Now, as you know, Unicorned Squirrels is well known for its action but also it is synonymous with high emotional content. This is particularly emphasised in the following scene.

Whilst a battle rages in the air we pan into the cockpit for this exchange between Captain Smith and Tommy.

Captain Smith: I must say Tommy your pipe holding skills are second to none.

Tommy: Thank you sir

Captain Smith: So tell me Tommy do you have a pretty little lady waiting for you on the ground?

Tommy: I do sir

Captain Smith: Is she pretty like Nurse Jenkins

Tommy: I’d say prettier sir

Captain Smith: Really? Interesting.

Tommy: We are due to get married this afternoon sir. Her Mother is not very well and only has days to live you see and it is her final wish to see her daughter married.

Captain Smith: And do you love her Tommy.

Tommy: I do sir, with all my heart. And she loves me. In fact this morning you know what she said to me. She said ‘ I love you so much I do not think I could live without you’.

Captain Smith: That is lovely

Tommy: It is sir. A really nice thing to hear while you’re waiting for your toast to be ready. She said ‘I dunno how I would cope with running the orphanage for sick kids, that and the sanctuary for domestic pets with personality disorders.’ She told me if I wasn’t there to support her she would just end it all.

Captain Smith: Well let’s finish this and get you to the church on time

Moments later a barrage of bullets hit the cockpit killing poor Tommy

Control: Captain is everything okay?

Captain Smith: I’ve dropped my pipe…..and poor Tommy has bought it.

Control: Come back to base your aircraft is damaged.

Captain Smith: And allow this bomber through. Never. Besides I have a bride to console.

He manoeuvres the plane towards the German bomber and gets ready to fire.

Captain Smith: This is for you Tommy and your sweet , emotionally vulnerable bride.

But there is a problem. The guns are jammed.

Control: Pull up Captain

He doesn’t. Instead he increases his speed setting him on a collision course with the bomber.

Control: Pull up Captain

Captain Smith: They are not getting through. Tell Nurse Jenkins to keep smiling.

We witness the plane crash into the bomber sending it hurtling towards the water.

Back at base it is a bittersweet moment. The threat of the bomber has gone but so has Captain Smith. We witness the ground crew mournfully walking across the field, Nurse Jenkins sorrowfully clutching Captain Smith’s detached arm.

Then suddenly….

Random Ground Crew: What’s that?

They all look up in the sky and see something floating towards them.

It’s Captain Smith! He managed to eject from the plane just before it hit the bomber.

His parachute is damaged causing him to hurtle towards the ground at speed. He lands heavily, the sound of both legs breaking is audible as he hits the floor.

Everyone rushes towards the Captain, his legs are weirdly contorted, broken bones are visible.

Nurse Jenkins: This man needs to be taken to hospital immediately.

Captain Smith: Nonsense. Just a smile from yourself and my head resting on your heaving bosom is all I need.

Nurse Jenkins : You really don’t know how medicine works do you?

Men rush forward carrying a stretcher.

Captain Smith: No need for that I can walk.

He goes to stand and immediately falls down again. Reluctantly he allows himself to be placed on the stretcher. As he is carried towards the ambulance he says ‘Do you think we can make a quick pit stop at the Church?’

The scene cuts to the Channel (which for sea enthusiasts is the bit of water between England and France).

The camera moves underwater where we see the mangled wreck of the bomber. Bodies float nearby.

As the camera pans closer to the scorch shell suddenly a unicorn horn shoots through the metal.

Roll Opening Titles

THE UNICORNED SQUIRRELS 2: HIBERANNIHILATION

MetaWrite 6000 : I Meta Girl at the Gates of Hell : Part One

PREVIOUS LOG

“Wake up Selina”

Roused from her impromptu slumber Selina J opened her eyes and stared wearily at her smeared reflection in the grubby mirror opposite.

“What the?!” she exclaimed, leaning further towards the mirror whilst muttering such existential questions as ‘Who am I?’ followed by ‘What am I?’

The ‘who’ was clearly established in the very first sentence of this story – she is Selina J. Her second question however was not derived from any willingness to deeper understand her place in the universe, after all who does that the moment they wake up? Normally, the only meaningful question to be asked at that time is ‘Where is the coffee?’

Indeed, if there were to be any aspect of spirituality in her demand to know ‘who she was’ it would be for the very simple reason that as she stared into the mirror it became immediately apparent that she was dressed as a Nun.

Such a revelation led Selina to follow up with a less than philosophical statement when she declared ‘I’m a fucking Nun!’

That expletive laden observation should in itself be sufficient to indicate that Selina was far from Nun material. Indeed, very little about the way she had led her life would indicate she was destined for a higher calling. But as Selina was about to find out appearances can be deceiving and things are not always what they immediately seem.

Selina studied the mirror, its frame was constructed of cheap wood that was chipped and stained. A number of light-bulbs adorned the top, all haphazardly attached by wire stapled into the frame. The bulbs were of a variety of colours albeit some no longer performed the task they had been design for, instead they dangled forlornly like a pathetic Christmas decoration. Other lights refused to go the same way as their neighbours and flickered defiantly, prepared to see out the dying moments of illumination with at least some usefulness.

The mirror itself was dingy, a sheet of dust coated the reflective material. No attempt had been made to clean the mirror, instead someone had simply drawn the crude outline of a heart through the grime. The bottom corner was cracked which framed a lipstick mark still prominent below the gloom of the dust.

The desk upon which the mirror stood was equally of poor quality and rocked due to an uneven leg. It would have rocked more violently but a stack of what seemed to be 1980s porn magazines kept some semblance of balance.

A variety of cosmetics lay strewn across the desk; lipstick, mascara and perfume all jostled for position upon the surface. The chair upon which Selina sat was worn. The imitation leather was ripped to reveal the foam interior. As she looked around the rest of the room, which was nothing more than bare walls, Selina was certain she was not in a place of worship.

Indeed, if the dubious stains on the floor were anything to go by should people get on their knees in here it certainly wasn’t with the intention of praying.

“Selina hurry up will ya! They’re waiting”

She turned to see a rather rotund man leaning against the doorway. He wore a white short sleeved shirt unbuttoned to reveal a mass of tight curly grey hair interspersed with more darker strands.

His face was large and unkind; the full flabbiness of his skin slightly disguised by a beard. The hair on his head matched that on his chest, which clung damply to his forehead with sweat.

A lit cigarette rested between his yellowing teeth, although the smell of nicotine did little to disguise the stench of body odour that emanated from this stout gentleman. Patches of sweat were visible under his armpits.

“Waiting for what?” Selina asked, still searching for the answer to who she was, despite the clear number of clues in the preceding paragraphs.

The fat man laughed “They are waiting for you to read the Gospel of Luke to them” He took a long drag on his cigarette and blew smoke in her direction “What do you think they are fucking waiting for? Now get up and get out there!”

Selina stood up and glanced once more towards the mirror. What reflected back at her would provide the unambiguous answer as to who she was.

She was not wearing a long tunic that one would expect a Nun to wear for hers was a lot shorter. It was so short that one could quite clearly see the lacy black panties she wore. Her legs were not bare but instead decorated with glossy black stockings, the tops of which were clearly visible. Her attire was completed by a pair of high chunky black heels.

“I’m a fucking stripper!” she exclaimed.

The fat man smiled displaying all his yellow teeth “Yeh you are and you’re my best girl so get out there”

He playfully spanked her behind as he ushered her onto the stage. It was dark but Selina could hear the mutterings of anticipation from the assembled crowd.

Disguised by the darkness of the stage she instinctively knelt down and clasped her hands together. Despite her initial confusion as to who she was an internal narrative now compelled her. She knew who she was and what she had to do.

The spotlight switched on illuminating her for the crowd to see, they expressed their pleasure by loud cheers. Then the music started, some cheesy 1980s electro-pop as Selina gracefully rose to her feet and begun shimmying and shaking along to the beat.

The ensemble of eager men whooped and applauded as she made her way across the stage ensuring all at the front row got a decent look. These patrons were the important ones, they were in the ‘tipping seats’.

It was a relatively low turn out and a few of the ‘tipping seats’ were empty. It was a Wednesday afternoon and later that night ought to be busier with a lot of drunk and horny guys clambering for the front row.

Selina allowed the guys clutching the most money in their fist to get the best view; writhing and crawling on the stage to entice that money away from them. A number of them eagerly obliged and soon the money clip that was securely attached to her garter started to fill up with notes.

The guys cheered with delight as Selina threw off her Nun’s habit revealing her breasts, the nipples teasingly encased in tassels. She spun them around near the face of one patron who hypnotically parted with more of his money.

Selina looked out towards the back of the room where the bar was situated , a number of men stood ogling her while they supped on overpriced watered down beer.

Get to the front and pay you cheap bastards.

To the left in the shadows of the booths, where the lapdances were normally performed, she saw a guy who appeared desperately to be trying to avoid looking at her. It was odd behaviour for someone at a strip club…..you come to watch! But her concern was not with those who had no intention of tipping her and her attention returned to the front row as she performed a number of tantalising squats and thrusts, much to the howls of approval from those who watched.

She glanced down at her money clip, the tips had been good but not great. For the right price she would tear the tassels off along with her panties and give them a real show; that’s what made her such an attraction at the club. But not today, she may be many things but she certainly wasn’t cheap.

Sorry boys! Just tease. No show.

Selina did one final circuit of the tipping seats to remove the patrons from the last of their notes. However, they had become wise to the fact that they were not going to experience one of Selina’s Special Shows and clung onto their money for another time.

Her act concluded with a unenthusiastic if not athletic turn on the pole before finishing back on her knees just as the tinny pop beats finished. With the stage once again shrouded in darkness she made her way off.

The fat man grabbed her arm as she went past “Hey not to so fast. You’ve got a lap dance to perform”

Selina looked up at his sweaty face, she was not really in the mood and just wanted to return to the grubby sanctuary of her room “Can’t someone else do it?”

“They have asked specifically for you and paid for the full works!” the fat man replied

“But I’m not feeling that good to be honest” she pleaded.

The fat man tightened his grip on her arm and pulled her in closer. Selina could smell his rank odour. His chubby fingers ran down her leg towards the money clip, he purposely took his time. Selina felt bile form in the back of her throat as he clumsily pawed at her.

He ripped the clip off and begun counting the money “That’s your rent….That’s my commission” he said as he tucked the notes away into the pocket of his damp shirt “So I’m guessing if you want to be eating tonight you oughta go give that guy the full works”

She hated him. There was nothing more she’d rather do then choke him to death by shoving the money she earned down his fat throat. But she had no back up plan, there was nowhere else to go and so her only option was to follow his command.

“Fine” she sighed “Who is it?”

The fat man jerked a thick finger in the direction of the booths. It pointed at the strange guy who avoided looking at her during the show. Perhaps that was why he chose to look away, he knew he would be getting a private show all to himself and didn’t want to over excite himself before the main event.

She walked towards the booth ignoring the cries of some other patrons requesting she marry them. She reached the booth with the strange guy and introduced herself.

“Hey honey I hear you are after the full works” she said.

The guy did not respond nor did he attempt to make any eye contact but Selina persisted, her dinner depended on it.

“Awww don’t be shy sweetie let me help you relax a little” she said whilst straddling him. She hovered just above his groin as she ran her fingers through his hair.

“Pppplease stop” he whimpered.

“Sweetie relax” said Selina as she began to caress her breasts “You like?”

“No. No I don’t. Please stop.” came the unexpected response.

Selina persisted no-one had resisted her full works lap dance and this weird guy was not going to be the first “What’s your name, sugar?”

“Kevin and you really need to get off me and go” came the rather blunt response.

Selina shot a look towards the stage and saw the fat man peering out. She was expected to give this well paying patron a show and so she must. Otherwise she would not be indulging on Den’s Special Chicken Nuggets at the Diner across from the club.

She begun to grind a little harder. Normally such a move would be for a little later, if at all, but it seemed in everyone’s best interests if she got this over quickly.

“Please you have to stop!” pleaded the guy, becoming more and more agitated.

Feeling uncomfortable about the situation Selina leant in and asked “Why? Why do you want me to stop?”

During her illustrious career at the club Selina had been told many things by patrons. These ranged from how much they love their wife to apologies for the unexpected ejaculation. In all her years she thought she had seen and heard everything. Every comment and utterance of arousal made her more and more impervious to being shocked.

“If you do not stop then the Gates of Hell will open and we will all die”

Yep. She’d never heard that one before.

Fates Avow: The Arbiter: Part Four

At school Connie was smart and athletic. Both these attributes served her well during her teenage years and they were required once more in the alleyway.

She was smart enough to realise the two dark figures meant her harm; although, to be fair, the large knife brandished by one would have been a strong indication to even the less intelligent that a friendly welcome was not on offer here.

Connie’s athleticism allowed her to stop and change direction in almost a heartbeat. Those hours spent on the sports field responding to the sound of a whistle paying off. This time the prize was not some athletic pride in her fitness but her life.

She could hear her old coach barking orders in her ear as she sprinted down the alley towards the safety of the crowded street.

Connie was fast. She knew she could out run her would be assailants. Nevertheless she was unable to resist looking back to check. The two figures were in pursuit but they did not run instead opting to walk, patiently stalking their prey just as a tiger would do. At that pace they would never reach her. The odds were in favour of even the slowest runner to outrun someone walking.

It was however this moment of curiosity, that need to see behind her when once again she failed to notice what was in front of her.

A stone lay innocuously in her path, too small for Connie to have noticed but large enough to cause her ankle to turn as her foot landed on this nuisance mineral.

With her balance interrupted she fell to the ground, the elegance of her sprint now reduced to an unceremonious flailing as she hit the floor.

Dazed by the speed in which she went from upright to prostrate, her immediate thought was the proximity of her attackers. She looked up to see them approach, their journey still at that stalking pace. There was certainly now no need to run, Connie wasn’t going anywhere.

But she tried to go somewhere, her will to live too strong to just passively lay on the floor and await her tragic fate. Yet despite her resolve to escape her ankle had other ideas.

Any movement she made to continue her journey towards safety was met by a growl of pain that travelled up her leg and forced her back on to the floor.

Her resilience continued and through gritted teeth she crawled towards where the alley opened onto the street; close enough for her to see the people who could save her yet too far away for them to notice her.

Despite her brain crying out through the pain that escape was now a hopeless endeavour, her desire to survive pushed her further albeit slowly down the alley.

Connie turned to see her attackers, they were close now. She could see the blade more clearly, soon this object of destruction will be pushed into her ending an altogether brief life.

Tears began forming in her eyes as any hope of escape made way for the realisation of her death; and it wouldn’t be a pleasant painless death but the absolute opposite.

Her eyes closed as she waited for the inevitable moment of her doom. She need not witness anymore and mournfully submitted herself to her conclusion.

A long shadow formed over Connie, yet it was not from her attackers but from behind her. Connie’s curiosity caused her to open her eyes and standing over her was the man from the pub…Ryan.

“Come with me if you wish to avoid the threat to your life posed by these two people.” he said, holding out his hand to her.

Forgetting he was the reason she had ran in the first place Connie reached up and grabbed his hand. The actual threat in front of her outweighed any potential threat that Ryan posed.

From behind him emerged the woman, Heze. She leapt at the two attackers striking them on the chest. They stumbled back but quickly recovered to swipe at Heze with their blades.

She pulled a weapon from her belt to fend them off. It was a curious object small enough to be gripped with one hand. The handle was curved like that of an umbrella with the end pointed. At the other end it forked off with three blades, one made of gold, one made of silver and the other bronze.

Connie watched as Heze deftly swung this weapon knocking the knives from the grip of the attackers. Then in one quick stroke she dove the weapon into the stomach of one before pulling it out and slicing the throat of the other. They both fell to the ground in a bloody heap.

Heze wiped her triple pronged weapon on the back of one of the attackers before putting it back in her belt.

She lingered over one of the bodies and rolled up his shirt sleeve. Connie could not see exactly what it was but it looked like a tattoo. Whatever it was it caused Heze to flash a look over at Ryan; was it a look of fear? hate? It was very difficult for Connie to tell.

The adrenaline from her near fatal encounter was still running and perhaps in a different scenario she would have been horrified she had just witnessed the violent death of two people.

But they had tried to kill her, they deserved what happened to them. Any concern she should have about how deadly Heze had been was overtaken by a feeling of relief and gratitude. Heze had saved her and with that came an automatic element of trust.

Therefore without protest she limped back to the pub flanked by both Ryan and Heze.

Once inside she sat on one of the worn wooden chairs and rested her injured foot on another. Heze brought her a glass of that potent alcohol.

Heze seemed different from before, her previous warm and friendly attitude had made way for a more icier demeanour. Connie was unsure if any of this clear hostility was directed at her or at Ryan.

“As I was saying Connie” said Ryan “You’re not safe and so best you stay here.”

His voice appeared stronger than before and he was less confused. Connie didn’t respond, the pain in her ankle was matched only by the throbbing in her head. Instead she smiled and nodded her appreciation.

Certainly she had questions and suspected that Ryan had the answers but that could wait. For now she was content to sit in silence and relax. Silence. Connie noted that the music was not playing anymore.

“Ryan. Can I talk to you for a moment” asked Heze.

Connie watched as Heze walked to one of the doors at the back of the pub and went inside, Ryan followed immediately thereafter.

Behind the door was not the toilets as Connie had first assumed but a hallway. Almost immediately as you entered was a wooden staircase that led to the first floor.

Heze waited by these steps as Ryan entered and spoke “Well done Heze that was good wo….”

Heze punched Ryan hard across the face “We’ve intervened. Haven’t we?” she said angrily.

Ryan said nothing, instead rubbed the side of his face, Heze had quite the right hook on her.

She removed her weapon from her belt and begun to furiously stab at the bottom step.

“We’ve fucking intervened” she shouted “You know who they were? You saw their mark!”

Ryan passively held his hands out “Heze” he said, ensuring that he was a safe enough distance to dodge Heze’s weapon if she chose to throw it.

She flashed him a stern look “Don’t Heze me!” She said twisting her weapon further into the wooden step “We’ve intervened! And you promised we would never do that…again.” Her voice trailed off as she completed that sentence.

Ryan stared at Heze thinking of the right words he could say to her. Even if he had those perfect words to hand, Heze was certainly not in the mood to let him speak.

She stood up to face him “Why Ryan? Why have we intervened?”

“I don’t know” he replied instinctively flinching in case another Heze punch was about to arrive.

“You don’t know?” Heze said, twisting the weapon between her thumb and forefinger “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I don’t know!” replied Ryan raising his voice before taking a breath and speaking more calmly “Look Heze I’m not sure what is going on. I just know we had to do it.”

“Why? Why now? Why her?”

Ryan thought for a moment then replied “Again I don’t know……It was the music and…”

“The music?!” Heze interrupted “What about the music?”

Ryan put his hands on Heze’s shoulders “I don’t know. I’ll find out Heze. I will sort this. Trust me.”

He flashed a smile at Heze which was met with a strained one from her.

“Now” he continued “Let’s go back in and talk to her. Maybe we can get some answers.”

He turned and opened the door to the main area of the pub.

Connie was gone.