Fell8: The Part Where Everything Is Better Battered

“How can you think of eating at a time like this?” said Angie, trying not to sound too judgemental towards Lorna who, after all, had just saved her life.

Lorna stopped walking towards the Royal Chicken and turned to face Angie, her stomach rumbling, a timely reminder of how hungry she was and how many times she had thrown up since these strange events all started.

“Because I’m hungry” Lorna replied rather matter-of-factly “Besides what else is there to do?”

Angie’s patience towards her saviour began slipping

“What else is there to do?” she said, her tone increasing in volume and judgement “We find out what those things are. Stop them.”

Lorna sighed and glanced towards the direction that the horde had been heading. London would normally be bustling at this time of night yet it was eerily quiet. The silence occasionally broken by the blood curdling scream of yet another victim of these monsters.

“You wanna know what they are?” Lorna replied “They’re guys who have large killer dicks that can be killed by blowjobs. There you go. Case solved. Let’s eat”

Lorna’s stomach let out a roar of approval as she moved towards the Royal Chicken.

“But we need to find out why they are like that” pleaded Angie

Lorna swung round to face Angie “We don’t need to find out anything. Other people can do that. We just gotta not be killed!”

She turned back to the Royal Chicken, “And if I don’t eat something I’m gonna die of starvation.”

Angie watched as Lorna walked towards the entrance, promptly followed by Veronica and Elena, who gave Angie a disapproving glance as they passed.

Lorna paused as she reached the door, struck by how quiet it was. Normally this place would be packed with drunken revellers, alcohol having decided that they were now hungry while at the same time having no concern for the quality of the food they would be consuming.

She gazed at the corner of the building where she had once had a knee trembler with some complete stranger whilst she impressively kept hold of her kebab in one hand. Yet she dared look further down the road; a road she had stumbled along many times on her way home and back to her…..sister

Lorna closed her eyes and took a deep breath

Keep it together Lorna. She will be fine.

Her stomach interrupted any concern she may have had for the current welfare of her sister to remind Lorna why she was there.

Peering through the window she could see the place looked empty. No mega penis killing machines hanging around that would interrupt the feast she intended to have.

The lights were on but the lack of a window and smashed glass strongly indicated all had not gone well here. Blood stains covered the blue tiled floor but thankfully there was an absence of bodies. Whilst the scene looked like a massacre had taken place it could have easily been a normal Saturday night. Besides such was Lorna’s hunger she was willing to step over a few dead bodies to find food.

Confidently she strode into the Royal Chicken and immediately made her way behind the counter. Veronica and Elena followed and took a seat at a solitary table by the window. Veronica casually dabbed at small pool of blood with a serviette. A few seconds later Angie walked reluctantly in and lingered at the door way.

Lorna went to the glass fronted fridge and took out a few soft drinks which she threw to her companions. She’d wish there had been alcohol on offer but after what had been in her mouth recently she was happy to have anything that tasted sweet.

She held the can on her forehead and closed her eyes as she felt the coolness ease the headache that had accompanied her ever since these weird monsters began attacking.

It was a blissful moment of calm in the non stop chaos that had engulfed her. A calm that was suddenly and rather rudely interrupted by a figure emerging from the shadows.

Screaming the large set man headed straight towards Veronica and Elena who instinctively grabbed their can of soda and struck the attacker hard in the face causing him to tumble backwards and fall to the floor.

Elena was quick to react and moved to the legs of their attacker with a cry of ‘Kill Him!’ His cock was not as pronounced as the other monsters they had encountered and as Lorna watched Elena quickly place it in her mouth it seemed quite flaccid and small.

“Hey V” Lorna said to Veronica whose way of assisting was to timidly hit the man with a can of soda a few times “You may want to step back cos he’s gonna explode”

Veronica moved round to where Elena vigorously bobbed her head up and down. Grunts and moans could be heard from the man as his arms flailed desperately trying to grab at Elena’s head.

She stopped sucking and looked at Veronica “Why has he not exploded?”

“Maybe you’re doing it wrong” Veronica replied.

Unhappy to have her technique questioned she retorted “I’m doing what I did before. If you think you know better you do it!”

“Fine!”

With a new found desire to be a useful member of the group Veronica swapped places with Elena and took the cock in her mouth. Yet after a few deep sucks she stopped disappointed that the receipent’s head had not exploded.

“Lorna why is it not working?” she enquired “Do you do something different? Like massage their balls?”

Lorna shrugged. She looked at the man on the floor who was still moaning. Her gaze moved to Angie who stood silently at the doorway transfixed on the figure who lay on the floor.

“Maybe it’s something you do.” Veronica continued “Like you have a special power or something.”

“Rubbish! You’ve killed some too.” Lorna sighed “Move out the way and let me try.”

Lorna moved to where the man lay and knelt down, she gripped his cock which although harder than before felt different to those that belonged to the monsters she had encountered. As she placed it in her mouth she had a feeling something was not right but it was hardly the time to dwell and discuss it.

As she began sucking Veronica provided her with commentary on her efforts. A cheerleader for her Monster Defeating Cock Sucking talents.

“That’s it Lorna I think it’s working”

The man let out a low groan, his arms reaching out for Lorna’s head.

“Yep this is definitely doing something. Keep going”

The moans of the man became more laboured. He rocked his head back.

“You’ve got this. A little more. Is eyes have gone funny. ”

Lorna could feel his cock stiffen which was something she hadn’t experienced before, with the monster dicks they just felt like metal which…….Wait!

“I think it’s gonna happen…Now!”

When Lorna realised what was happening it was too late. It was not an unfamiliar feeling and in normal times would not have been unexpected either, yet as the stream of hot liquid hit the back of her throat she was a little surprised.

“FUCK!” Lorna exclaimed as she spat out the startling deposit.

Addressing the man who had managed to sit up and adjust his glasses she said “Why the fuck did you not tell us you weren’t one of them?!”

“Oh wow! Wow!” replied the man “I was having the worst day ever…weird shit happening…people dying but you three have like just made it so much better. Wow!”

Lorna, Veronica and Elena looked at each other with an expression of surprise mixed with a little embarrassment.

“How did you not change into a monster?” asked Angie “This is interesting.”

“I dunno! I dunno what’s been happening” replied the man slightly hyper-ventilating “I…..Oh wow! I mean with everything I never expected this! Wow. Why did you do that again?”

Lorna got to her feet and walked back round the counter and started to look for the chicken nuggets.

“I’m Pete by the way” said the man “I thought you know seeing as we…ummm… I should tell you my name. And you are?”

“Shut the fuck up Pete” Lorna replied, turning on the deep fat fryer and pouring in an entire bag of nuggets. The popping sound as they entered brought a moment of peace to Lorna’s rising bad mood.

“If Pete is not one of them then he might be quite important” said Angie “He may be the key to all of this.”

“Is that why you ladies did that thing….cos I am special?” suggested Peter

“Shut the fuck up Pete” replied Lorna before addressing Angie “If you want to study the chubby special one then be my guest. I just want to eat.”

An awkward silence filled the room, the only sound was the glorious sizzling of the nuggets. The aroma of fried chicken blissfully replacing the stench of death that had followed the women ever since the mayhem started.

“Anyway” said Pete breaking the silence “I just wanted to say tha…”

“Shut the fuck up Pete” said Lorna, Veronica and Elena in unison.

“Oh Lorna” said Veronica to Lorna “I am vegetarian by the way so no chicken for me”

“Sweetie it’s a chicken shop….Well I think there’s some lettuce back here somewhere”

Whilst Veronica and Lorna discussed what the Royal Chicken passed off as vegetables and whether it was edible Angie was eager to know more about Pete, who was in the process of cleaning his glasses on his ‘Sonic The Hedgehog’ t-shirt while muttering happily to himself.

“What do you remember Pete?” She asked very gently hoping to placate the hostility the other women were showing towards him.

Pete stood up and animatedly paced up and down as he explained what happened

“Well everything was normal. I was playing some Call of Duty and was hungry. So I popped across the road to get some chips ….I live just round the corner if you girls need to stay. It’s only one bedroom but I guess we’re close now….”

“Shut the fuck up Pete” said the chorus.

“It’s okay Pete. What happened when you were in here?” asked Angie calmly.

“I dunno. Everything was fine. There was some concert or something playing on the TV and then suddenly the men who were here just changed”

“And did you feel anything?” Angie asked

“I felt scared. I might have even peed myself a little….”

“That’s okay” said Angie

“And then they just started killing.” Pete began to get a little tearful “Ripping arms and legs of people outside. I was able to hide but it was horrible!….Can I get a hug from one of you?”

Lorna wasn’t interested in what Pete had to say. She had given many regretful blowjobs before, probably way too many to remember. She didn’t dislike Pete and certainly didn’t want what was about to happen to him to have happened.

As Pete was mid sentence he walked across an open doorway and that’s when it got him. The unmistakable hard penis of these newly created monsters bursting through his expansive belly followed by two large hands gripping Pete’s head and twisting it. It was an horrific end and the only consolation one can say is that Pete was still talking about the blowjob he received before he was brutally killed.

This time there was no mistaking this thing as one of the monsters. Angie leapt back to the doorway, Elena stood up poised to attack.

The monster lurched round the counter to where Lorna and Veronica were. In futile defence Veronica began throwing the pieces of lettuce at the advancing marauder.

Who this man may have been before did not concern any of the women. He was dangerous and should he catch them death would be instant.

Although Lorna had shown some disappointment in Veronica’s decision to attack it with lettuce it proved to be a stroke of genius.

The lumbering monster began to slip and slide on the wet layer of suspect vegetables. Off balance this allowed Elena to shoulder barge it in the back causing it to stumble over the counter, its deadly cock hit the bubbling oil that hosted Lorna’s chicken nuggets.

“Noooooo!” She cried out instinctively before thoughts of her own preservation took over concern for her food.

The monster rocked back causing the pan of hot oil to spill on the floor along with the chicken nuggets.

Lorna slid on the floor, wincing slightly in pain as the hot oil hit her bare skin. She reached the monster’s killer penis when she noticed a problem.

“Ermmm….. it’s battered!” She exclaimed

“Well you like fried food. Might taste better” replied Elena rather matter of factly

Shrugging Lorna opened her mouth and wrapped her lips round the battered cock. As she started to suck she could feel it crumble inside her mouth .

She pulled away, spitting out pieces of the fried organ.

“It’s falling apart!! I’M EATING IT!!!” she screamed at the others.

“Hurry Lorna!” Veronica said

Lorna gripped the crispy penis one more time and it crumbled in her hand.

“Ermm his cock has fallen off” she said “He has no cock and he’s fucking still alive. RUN!!”

The women rushed out of the Royal Chicken as the castrated monster pursued them. It roared to let them know how close it was. The cries alerting other nearby fiends to fresh prey.

“Quick over here” Lorna said pointing to a building in the distance.

The building was a club that Lorna would frequent. She did not know in these time of absolute crisis why she had to go somewhere she was familiar with.

The large black doors to the club were open and all four rushed inside. They hurriedly closed the doors and took laboured deep breaths of gratitude for their safety.

Except they had just run into a building that was on fire and out of the smoke they could see a large penis advancing towards them.

The Wet Misadventures of One Miss Tempani Jones

There is nothing unusual about a rainy day in London, especially in October.

The pavements full of workers on their way to the office, jostling for position with their tiny black umbrellas, grumpily making way for the one who ploughs through the bustling crowd with his oversized golfing umbrella.

The previous night’s takeaway boxes mangle into paper mache works of art against the side of the pavement. A solitary paper cup not wishing to be part of this impromptu abstract sculpture attempts to escape down the dirty stream, it’s journey disturbed by a black cab ferrying a passenger whose new haircut is worth paying the disproportionate fare to preserve.

The paper cup perseveres in its determination to reach the mystery of the drain it spies in the distance and the promise of a magical journey into the unknown.

In its haste the paper cup becomes entangled with a newspaper but it has little time to dwell on whatever horror is the main headline of the day.

Such is the determination of this adventurous little cup it fails to notice the oncoming bus with its large wipers that dismiss the raindrops with arrogant glee.

Yet fortune is on the side of this intrepid cup as the stream which carries it towards its final destination quickens with the increasing rainfall, pushing it safely past the advancing wheels of the bus. The cup spins to reflect upon this closest of calls as it watches the wheels of the bus brush up against the pavement.

The cup is now mere moments away from completing its journey, the wrought iron finishing line agonisingly close. Suddenly a gust of wind striving to reclaim the attention from the rain in this storm picks up the little cup, lifting it high up into the air. It’s goal that had been so close fades into the distance. Is it a raindrop that drips from the lid as it spins uncontrollably in the air or a tear of a dream unfulfilled?

Quickly bored with its newly found plaything the wind unceremoniously dumps the cup in a nearby alley. There it rests, defeated. It takes one final melancholic roll as it concedes to be forever forgotten. The hopes of what wonders lay beyond that drain disappear as it rests still.

Yet our broken cup was not alone in that alley on that particular morning. Had the cup just found the strength to roll one final time it would have hit a patent leather kitten heel shoe.

That shoe belonged to one Miss Tempani Jones. And she was about to have an orgasm.

Now a woman pleasuring herself down an alley is a relatively rare occurrence, even in London. Rarer still at 8.30 a.m. on a Thursday morning.

To be fair to Tempani she certainly had not intended on being down an alley pleasuring herself. It was not part of her normal morning routine, she was not some kinky exhibitionist getting a quick thrill. Nor was she filming a brief video to later upload to a porn site. This was very much an unplanned masturbatory pitstop on her way to work.

Equally it would be unfair of us to judge the location Tempani had chosen for this impromptu orgasm. We can all sit in moral judgement offering alternatives such as doing it at home before she left or the toilet cubicles at work, to even maybe not doing it at all. But this was all out of her control.

Tempani loved being in control. Her life was dictated by precise routines each specifically designed to ensure she would not find herself leaning up against a wall knuckle deep in her own pussy, especially before she has even been able to buy her usual Espresso Macchiato.

So what events conspired to make poor Tempani have no option but to satisfy herself on that stormy Thursday morning?

The previous evening had been beautifully mundane, the sort of day that isn’t even worth registering as a memory. Yet when Tempani reflects on her unusual start to her Thursday morning she would realise events of the previous day were more malevolent than she had assumed.

Firstly, her very important meeting that was scheduled for 9.30 a.m. with a very important client was moved forward to 8.30 a.m. This did not trouble Tempani who would simply get the earlier train to work. She would not wish to blame this very important client for why she was finger fucking herself in the alley, he was after all very important and this contract would see her with a nice bonus. She did however hope he had his worst performance on the golf course ever.

On her walk home from the train station that Wednesday the strap on her large leather tote bag snapped. Tempani loved this bag, it was just the right size to keep all the items she may require at any given time, including the small umbrella she always ensured she had on her person. You will see the relevance of that umbrella later.

Nevertheless given the stories she had read about how these fashion items are made she certainly would not be looking to blame her awkward Thursday on whatever poor soul made the tote bag.

Her Wednesday evening was spent drinking wine and preparing for her very important meeting. It was the pleading sound of the notification alert on her phone that interrupted her work to demand she upgrades to the latest operating system. Tempani was more than happy for her phone to be busy doing other things so not to disturb her further from her work.

Yet what Tempani did not know is that a minor glitch caused by an error in the code would mean all her alarms would be reset. The consequence of this is that on Thursday Tempani would wake up late. Waking up late was not part of Tempani’s routine and she was more than happy to throw shade at the software engineer in California that caused her to oversleep.

Rather than her relaxed morning routine Tempani found herself on that particular Thursday morning rushing around. There was to be no relaxing shower instead she found herself cleaning her teeth whilst rubbing shampoo in her hair; the hope was this newly discovered method of efficiency would claw back some lost time.

Instead of taking time to pick out her work outfit she instead hurriedly dressed in whatever she could find, laddering two pairs of tights before triumphantly hopping into the third pair without consequence.

There would be no time to sit and have that first cup of coffee in the morning while she watched the news, paying particular attention to the weather report. Instead she quickly grabbed her replacement bag, a smaller black handbag, rushing to check the contents before slipping on her heels and hurrying out the flat.

As she hurriedly clipped-clopped in comedic fashion towards the train station her focus was more on not breaking an ankle than the clouds that begun to form in the sky.

While waiting on the platform Tempani was more absorbed with telling her assistant on the phone all what she had to do than to the clouds that had now begun to turn sinisterly dark.

It was when she only a few stops away from Charing Cross that she happened to look up from her phone and see the first drops of rain hit the dirty train window.

Calmly, Tempani reached for her handbag to seek the reassurance she had her umbrella. Her relaxed searched became more and more frantic as the realisation dawned on her that her umbrella was still very much at home, housed as it always was inside her now broken tote bag. Yet even after it became obvious she did not possess an umbrella she continued the futile search, even rifling through the most smallest of pockets in the hope she might find it there.

Don’t panic Tempani it may just be a little drizzle she told herself. A rumble of thunder seemed to answer her back “Fuck you! I’m more than that”.

As the train slowly pulled into Charing Cross she hesitantly stood up. Her gaze was drawn to the gentleman who had been sitting opposite her who was in possession of an umbrella.

“Excuse me? I don’t suppose I could borrow your umbrella” she asked, ensuring she fluttered her eyelids as she pleaded to his chivalrous nature.

The gentleman just looked at her in absolute disgust before leaving the train (Tempani would later wish this gentleman experienced a disappointing sexual encounter for his refusal to give up his umbrella). She slowly followed the other commuters down the platform and onto the concourse.

There are a number of shops located within Charing Cross station purporting to cater for the needs of the weary worker, yet on this particular day not one had any umbrellas for sale.

Tempani stood in the archway and looked out on to The Strand. Normally there would be plenty of taxis waiting but the weather had meant these were in high demand. She opted to wait for either a taxi to come to her rescue or for there to be a miraculous break in the weather.

She pulled her phone out of her pocket and noted the time. 8.15 a.m. It would take her at least ten minutes walk to get to work. She decided to wait a little longer, hopping on either foot in impatience.

Each minute that passed was agonising. She couldn’t be late for this very important meeting. Every time she checked her phone her brain would offer up an image of the very important client walking out of the office with his golf clubs in tow. Or her Boss disapprovingly shaking his head as she walked through the entrance before making her do the walk of shame to clear out her office.

Fuck it. Tempani decided she could wait no longer. Pulling the sleeve of her jacket over her hand she grabbed a free newspaper, held it over her head and made a run for it.

Now you may be wondering what Tempani’s deal is with rain. After all unless you happen to be the Wicked Witch of the West it really can’t hurt you. Indeed, the rain didn’t hurt Tempani – on the contrary, it made her horny.

When we say horny we are not talking just a little frisky. Whilst the mere presence of rain does heighten her senses it’s more what happens when one single raindrop touches her skin. Should that happen Tempani experiences waves of pleasure. The more rain that hits her the more intense the pleasure is. It’s like each raindrop is a mini vibrator specifically designed to create the most arousal possible.

So when Tempani decided to rush out into the rain with just a newspaper as protection she was not risking bodily harm, she was risking having a full blown orgasm in the middle of London during rush hour.

To be fair to Tempani she made a good effort of avoiding the rain. Perhaps she may have even been able to make it without incident were it not for the driver of the Audi (someone who she blamed unreservedly for the events of that Thursday morning) who decided driving at speed through a puddle was an appropriate way to confirm his masculinity.

In her attempt to dodge the mini tsunami she dropped the newspaper that had been protecting her exposing her forehead to the arousal inducing raindrops.

Tempani was able to quickly duck into a doorway for cover but she knew by now that it only took one raindrop to bring on the feelings of intense arousal. She could feel her nipples harden underneath her bra. Between her legs began to mimic the dampness of her forehead.

She couldn’t stay there in the doorway and allow the rain to do it’s thing. Not only were customers coming in and out of the shop and might say something about the smartly dressed woman having a loud orgasm but time was running out for her to get to the very important meeting.

Stifling a moan of pleasure she yanked her jacket over the head and continued her journey to work. The jacket was tight over her head making it difficult to see, plus the occasional pang of pleasure would make her legs suddenly go weak and with it an instinctive groan of arousal would follow.

To the passer by it would have looked as if Tempani was on her way to audition for the lead role in some porn parody of a horror movie. Eventually she made it to her office which was an attractive glass fronted building her firm shared with a number of other companies.

Now something else you need to know about Tempani’s ‘gift’ is that the pleasure she experiences will not subside until she has had a complete orgasm. Many times previously she has rushed indoors after getting caught in the rain, although drying herself manically with a towel did little to prevent her experiencing the complete climax.

Fortunately for Tempani there is a small alley which separates her more modern place of work with one of London’s many Victorian buildings. Avoiding meeting any work colleagues she rushed into the alley and no longer fought off the pleasure the rain was determined to bring.

Now you will recall when we first met Tempani in this alley her fingers were deep inside her. It is a legitimate question to ask why, if the rain does all the work, would she be needing to put in any effort of her own.

Well, she entered the alley at precisely 8.30 a.m. when her very important meeting was due to start. Even in the throes of pleasure Tempani had the presence of mind to believe that a bit of manual assistance would bring about this disruptive orgasm quicker.

Had she not done so and put her very important meeting ahead of her very real pleasure then she would have been in the midst of a complete and blissful orgasm before she even got to third slide of her PowerPoint presentation. She feared shouting at the very important client “Oh fuck! Yes! More” may come across as a tad over enthusiastic.

Within a few moments and with the assistance of her fingers Tempani welcomed the much needed orgasm. As this was an orgasm borne more out of necessity than want she was not willing to indulge in the full pleasure experience.

No sooner had she felt that wave of intense pleasure flow through her body and her vagina begin to contract as if it was trying to applaud happily, she was pulling up her tights and adjusting her skirt before running round to the entrance of the building.

Waiting in the foyer was her assistant who took one look at Tempani and asked “Did you get caught in the rain?”

“Yeh a little” replied Tempani, still experiencing the final throes of her orgasm.

“Anyway. The meeting is about to start” said her assistant moving towards where the lifts were located.

Tempani took a moment to collect her thoughts and ensure all the rain induced pleasure was firmly out of her system.

“You coming?” asked the assistant.

“Yeh I am.” replied Tempani “Just give me one more moment.”

Super Sentient Sex Dolls From Saturn – Part One

You ready for another epic Movie Pitch? Then let’s do it. (By the way that was a rhetorical question because I am doing this whether you want to or not).

So with thrill and excitement still buzzing in your beautiful mind, settle down as the second movie from OfSelina begins.

Now we have a lot to cover in the opening such as how or indeed why are there sex dolls on Saturn. No doubt there will be much chuntering in the cinema about whether these sex dolls are super and sentient or if they are super sentient? And if the latter what does that even mean? Well, who knows and by the end of this … who cares?

So to cram a shed load of back story into a very short period of time we adopt a time honoured Cinematic ploy of Flashback and Montage….

First the flashback. The movie opens with a wide shot of space because, after all, this is a science fiction movie and nothing says Sci-Fi like stars and shit.

‘International Space Station – Sometime Ago’

We meet an unnamed generic astronaut moving through the space station looking for ‘Steve’. A cool continuous shot of him just floating around asking anyone he meets if they have seen Steve. They all shake their heads with one asking ‘Who is Steve?’

Eventually we are introduced to the mysterious Steve who is in the toliet….. masturbating wildly.

(NB Long time sufferers who follow me and have read CONFESSIONS will know that Steve is the name of my ex. I want to make it clear for legal reasons that I am not implying in any subtle way that he is and always will be a wanker. Clear? Cool, back to the story.)

In his haste to masturbate Steve has forgotten to lock the door and unnamed generic astronaut opens it just at the moment of ejaculation causing Steve to fall forward and the consequence of his fervent wrist action flies out. Because there is no gravity we see his jizz escape through the door and it travels the same route that unnamed spaceman had taken. This journey of Steve’s Semen will be one continuous shot as people duck out of the way to avoid the cum’s commute in zero gravity.

This piece of steadicam sauciness will last precisely one second longer than the continuous shot from Goodfellas – just for the bantz. It’ll be cool if in years to come, movie scholars will argue whether Goodfellas or Sentient Sex Dolls is the greatest continuous shot in cinematic history. They will eventually settle on Sentient Sex Dolls being the greatest continuous money shot.

It is also a very crucial plot point. Because as they follow Steve’s jizz the viewer will immediately be struck by the realisation that this is just more than a string of cum, it’s the epitome of the butterfly effect. As we watch it land onto sensitive machinery causing an explosion that tears open the space station you will understand that all of what is about to happen begun by one lonely man knocking one out in the toilet. This rope of semen becomes more of an existential odyssey than Kubrick’s 2001 could ever hope to be.

As the space station explodes the Main Titles begin playing out to a montage of what happens next. We are treated to clips of senate hearings and news reports about the destructive qualities of masturbating astronauts.

Reports of other space calamities caused by Spaceman semen occur and the future of our exploration beyond the stars is under threat. A solution to this epidemic is needed and quick.

A Senator suggests sending women instead but a NASA official replies “Do you know how much it would cost to kit them out in those shiny short skirts and thigh high boots?’

Eventually a group of scientists happen upon an idea – send specially constructed sex dolls to accompany the astronauts.

We cut to the President of the United States announcing that Sex Dolls will solve the Astronaut masturbating crisis. Now, a few years ago a President on the lawn of the White House talking about sex dolls in space would seem implausible but now?…Maybe not so much.

It is as the opening credits conclude that the viewer joins a particular band of intrepid and no longer sexually frustrated astronauts as they journey to the newly built Space Station.

In the cockpit is Matt. Quick back story Matt is the younger brother of Steve the wanker. This is revealed by some clever dialogue between Matt and the Control Centre.

Control: Okay Matt. Now comes the tricky part. You’ll need to concentrate for the link up. Clear your mind. Don’t think about the fact that your family was disgraced because of your brother Steve’s persistent masturbation addiction which caused an entire space station to explode.

We also know Matt is married with a kid. He looks up at two photos he has hanging from the cockpit. One a photo of his wife and child smiling by a tree and the other photo a more saucier one of his wife in lingerie. It is the latter that Matt stares at and with the sound of Control telling him to concentrate he turns to look at one of the sex dolls that accompanies him in the cockpit.

Maybe he has time for just a quick one?

He grabs the sex doll and begins wild lovemaking. The scene plays out with Matt lost in lust adopting all manner of sex positions all to the sounds of lights flashing, alarms, screaming and the increasingly irritated voice of Control.

What’s happening Matt?

Matt? Concentrate

Matt, are you fucking the Sex Doll?

Someone needs to get in there and disassemble that sex doll. Jeez this whole family are just wankers.

As the sex doll is riding Matt to a climax he looks over her shoulder through the cockpit window to witness the craft about to collide with the space station.

Matt’s final words are ‘Ooooh Fuck. Forgive me’.

Wide shot of the space station exploding. Probably if the CGI budget is tight can just use the same shot of the first station exploding but flip the image or something.

And that concludes the opening. Now you might think there’s a lot of throwaway stuff in there but all what you have witnessed will be relevant as the rest of the movie unfolds. Probably.

I know you have questions. How do the Sex Dolls end up on Saturn? So are they going to be Super and Sentient or just Super Sentient? And, you really are doing this aren’t you?

As always all these questions and more will be answered in a tightly woven plot with zero holes in it at all.

And yes whilst I haven’t actually explained how these Sex Dolls end up being from Saturn I have managed in the opening scene to put them vaguely yet plausibly in space during a montage which was pretty cool.

Stay Tuned for more Super Sentient Sex Dolls From Saturn

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.

Fates Avow: The Arbiter : Part Three

< Part Two

Any hope that the tired and worn out exterior of the pub would not be replicated inside faded as Connie entered.

Although spacious there was a perpetual gloominess about the place. A few lights hung casually from the ceiling, the cracked glass coverings revealed dull yellowing bulbs. Black specks marked the final resting place of curious insects.

The murkiness of the bulb betrayed its main purpose and all that it could muster was to illuminate a constant stream of dust that seemed on an infinite loop round the mouldy yellow light.

To the right were a row of cubicles, three wooden benches adorned in tatty red leather enveloped tired looking tables. The gloom would not allow Connie to see as far as the furthest benches.

Further down the room a number of tables were haphazardly laid out and the chairs that surrounded them were not arranged in any particular order.

Towards the back were two doors side by side, Connie presumed these led to the toilets but there were no signs indicating which one was intended for Gentleman and which for Ladies. Connie doubted, given the decor, that this particular Pub was trailblazing with Gender Neutral facilities.

In the furthest corner was a pool table. The green velvet covering was scratched and it was unlikely a competitive game could be had with just three balls and one cue.

Connie followed the dark green carpet which in places was so worn away she could see the floorboards beneath. Stains sporadically embellished the carpet, some appeared of dubious nature but no doubt the origin of each stain was, in itself, an interesting tale.

There was a musky smell that immediately had filled Connie’s nostrils as she entered. It was as if she could smell every pint of beer ever supped in this establishment. The aroma was so heavy she had to swallow it down to allow herself to breathe normally.

To her left was the bar and there framed by the optics and beer taps stood the woman. She was illuminated by a neon branded sign advertising a beer that Connie was sure did not exist anymore.

The woman smiled and Connie made her way over to the bar and sat down on one of only two tall bar stools at the front of the expansive wooden bar.

The oak panel was deeply scored and down the entire length were dark rings from the many drinks that would have been placed upon the bar by careless customers and staff alike. They occurred all the way down the bar leading to what appeared to be a wooden box.

Connie squinted in the gloominess to see what that box was because it looked out of place. She was shaken by her surveillance of her surroundings by the woman slamming a glass onto the bar.

“So you’ve had a bad day?” asked the woman, pouring some amber liquid into the glass.

“Terrible” replied Connie

“Well this will make you feel better” said the woman sliding the half filled glass over to Connie.

Connie picked up the drink and took a tentative swig. There was a surprising potency to the liquid and she coughed a frisky ‘Wow!’

“It’s good stuff!” laughed the woman “I’m Heze by the way” (she pronounced it Haze).

“Connie” replied Connie still choking slightly on her drink.

Heze leaned on the bar and rested her chin on her hand “Well Connie tell me about this bad day you are having”

As Connie begun to tell Heze of all the annoyances she had to endure something peculiar happened.

A low hissing sound began to fill the room, then,faintly at first, the soft hum of music. This melodic interruption caused Connie to stop talking and seek out the source of the tune. She presumed that it was from a jukebox but a quick scan of the gloomy interior did not reveal one.

Listening intently she followed the tinny notes to the box at the end of the bar, the box that appeared so out of place when Connie had first seen it.

The music became louder and it was a familiar song to Connie, one that her parents used to listen to. She believed it was by The Beatles although she couldn’t remember the precise name of the song, John Lennon was singing about a Guru called Dave or something.

Heze who had been resting against the bar stood up straight and glanced towards the box then out at the cubicles opposite the bar.

From the gloomy shadows a man emerged and he walked slowly towards the musical cube as if he were in a trance. The presence of someone else being here had initially surprised Connie.

Both her and Heze watched as he took the box between his hands and started to examine it, lifting it up to study all four sides. He glanced up from the box and looked at Heze before his head snapped round to intently stare at Connie.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“Connie” she replied nervously, the intensity to which he studied her made her feel uncomfortable.

“Connie? Do I know you?” he returned his attention to the box, looking it over once more before returning to Connie “Who are you?”

This man seemed confused and Connie presumed he was a regular in the pub that had just woken up after sleeping off a particular heavy night.

Connie was unsure how to respond to this individual. Indeed her only thought was how best to leave the pub. Her day was bad enough as it was and she could do without an altercation with some random drunk guy.

She watched nervously as his attention returned to the box. With the song still playing he wandered back to the cubicle, his apparent interest in Connie over. She followed him until he was consumed by the gloom, the only indication of his presence was the tinny tune that still played.

Connie spun back round to look at Heze who gave a forced smile “That’s the boss” she said with an embarrassed shrug.

Connie thought it was best she left and took one final swig of her drink and coughed her goodbyes.

“How much do I owe you?” she enquired.

Heze threw up her hands “On the house” she replied.

Connie expressed her gratitude once more and then walked towards the large wooden door.

“You can’t leave”

Connie spun round to witness the man emerge once more from the darkness, still cradling the musical box.

“I’m sorry?” replied Connie, trying to hide the anxiety that was building up inside her.

“You can’t leave. It’s not safe ” said the man.

Connie’s heart begun to pound as the realisation that her exit from this pub may not be an easy one. She shot a look over at Heze who was trying to get her bosses attention “Ryan. Ryan” she kept repeating.

“What do you mean it’s not safe?” asked Connie taking a step backwards further near the door.

“It’s not safe. You leave here. Bad things will happen.” continued Ryan.

Connie reached behind her, blindly grabbing at the handle. She stepped further back as Ryan approached.

“What bad things?” she asked , hoping that engaging him in conversation may distract him enough so she can make her exit.

“Terrible things. Horrid things. You are only safe here. You cannot leave” he said, there was a confused mania in the pattern of his voice which did little to calm the rising panic that Connie was feeling.

Her heart was racing and she inwardly gave a small sigh of relief when her she finally found the handle to the door. Although the music was still playing the sweetest sound Connie heard was of the door unlocking as she twisted the handle.

With her back still to the door she tugged at the handle and a comforting ray of light from the low afternoon sun shone through.

Her eyes were fixed on Ryan as she stepped back. She could feel the warmth of the sun on her leg. The unexpected breeze challenged the musky smell for dominance in the air. The dust that had dutifully followed its same infinite path now swirled around on a new chaotic route.

Ryan walked towards her still clutching the box muttering all manner of warnings about impending danger as Heze continued to try and attract his attention. All the while the song continued to provide the soundtrack to this weird encounter that left Connie feeling confused, frightened and clear she had to leave.

She spun round and completed her escape from the building, slamming the door behind her. The street was rather busy but rather seek comfort in a crowd her instincts told her to run. She turned and sprinted up the alleyway that ran alongside the pub.

She could hear the blood pumping in her ears as she sprinted along the alley. She looked back to see if either Ryan or Heze were pursuing her.

Such was her concentration of what might be behind her that she neglected to pay much attention to what was in front of her.

Had she done so she would have noticed two figures standing there. Although it would have been difficult to make out their features in the dullness of the alley she would at the very least had seen the glint of the knife that one held in their hand.

Different path. Same Conclusion.

Fates Avow: The Arbiter: Part Two

< Part One

Connie was having a bad day….But you know that already. You know her story of how she woke up late, rushed to get ready, had someone steal her money, accidentally burnt down her flat, got fired from her job, found out her boyfriend was cheating and then to cap it all off got murdered.

In every story there are moments where things could take an alternative route; that each different choice would open up more and more possibilities which in turn lead to even more eventualities.

Yet, inevitably, even if we chose to take a different path, no matter how unique the journey may be it always leads to the same place.

Maybe Connie chose to go home when she missed the train but that would have seen her trapped in her flat when it caught fire.

Or perhaps she did have enough money to get a taxi only to then be involved in a road traffic collision.

Different path, same conclusion. Connie died that day.

However in every story there is always that moment when the different path taken can change the entire narrative.

For Connie that moment was standing outside the dilapidated building that once used to be a Pub.

In its more glorious years this building would have been alive with the sounds of communal revelry. The tired facade now betrayed the once vibrant colours that lured many into its comfy interior.

Connie never went inside on the day she died; she thought it was closed, abandoned. Her curiosity of the building was not sufficient enough to see her try to enter. There was nothing inviting about this strange place.

However there had been something but in her rage and torment she had simply not seen it.

Haphazardly resting against the side of the building was a wooden board, it was the typical one you see outside pubs and restaurants that proudly exclaim ‘Come On In We’re Open’, followed by a list of drinks and written in chalk Today’s Specials (There were none listed).

In the moments before Connie arrived outside the building, the earlier inclement weather had knocked the board over so it rested hidden against the wall.

If Connie had been earlier she may have seen it before it fell and taken the sign up on its welcoming offer to ‘Come On In’. But she didn’t and she died.

Maybe even the presence of the sign would not have enticed her to go in. It was after all as worn out and broken as the building. Plus they didn’t have any Specials on that day.

She may have studied the sign but the revelation of her boyfriend’s infidelity was always going to send her into that rage which would conclude with her death.

Different Path. Same Conclusion.

But what if, rather than arriving earlier, she arrived a little later?

****

“Connie! Wait”

Connie turned to see Ann bounding after her. Connie desperately wanted to just leave and get home. She could not bear anymore humiliation and was fighting so hard to keep even a modicum of dignity.

When Clive had rather abruptly informed her that she was being fired she could feel the tears begin to bubble up, ready to erupt. With it would come the rage and Clive would never know how close he came to having his face smashed in with a stapler.

“I’m fine Ann. Go back to your desk” pleaded Connie as she tried to hide the fact she was very much not fine.

Despite her portly frame Ann surprised Connie with how quickly she was able to catch up.

“Are you sure?” Ann said, placing her thick hand on Connie’s shoulder.

There was a look of genuine sympathy in the eyes of Ann. This was surprising given her propensity to leave passive aggressive post-its warding off anyone who was tempted to swipe her tuna sandwiches.

Connie just wanted to leave the building, go home and cry her heart out. But she no longer had a home she to privately express her anguish in.

That thought was enough to set her off and she wept. Burying her head deep into Ann’s shoulder, all her frustrations as to why life would choose to be so cruel to her leaked onto Ann’s crocheted cardigan.

Each sorrowful recollection of the morning events were punctuated with a sympathetic ‘There. There’ from Ann.

During this outpouring Connie’s phone vibrated, indicating a message. Her hand moved down to retrieve it but was stopped by Ann.

“Leave it. It can wait” she said “You just let it all out.”

And that she did and when Connie had no more tears to spill she sniffled her gratitude for the kindness Ann had shown.

“Do you feel better?” asked Ann

“A little” Connie replied, forcing half a smile “Thank you. Best go see what is left of my flat”.

“Here” Ann said, pulling out a few bank notes and pressing it into Connie’s hand.

“I can’t Ann…This is too much” protested Connie trying to force the money back into Ann’s hand.

Ann stepped back raising her hands “Take it. You need it more than me.”

After one final hug of gratitude Connie left the building and took the same route that would lead to her eventual death.

She passed someone shouting obscenities towards a HGV which was disappearing into the distance.

“Way my luck is going today I’m surprised that weren’t me” thought Connie as she stared at the soaking wet angry pedestrian.

It was then she remembered about her text and paused her journey to retrieve her phone.

As she was about to type in her pin code something out of the corner of her eye caused her to look up from her phone and towards the crumbling old building.

The front of the pub looked as always uninviting and Connie would have returned to her phone were it not for the woman standing to the side adjusting a wooden sign.

It was initially the blue hair that caused Connie’s gaze to linger longer than she might have. The woman squatted down to write something on the board, her black sleeveless t-shirt riding up to reveal an intricate tattoo of a crescent moon on the small of her back.

The woman moved away revealing what she had written under the heading ‘Today’s Specials’.

Trouble Free

It was a curious thing to write but nevertheless for a brief moment that simple phrase caused Connie to smile.

“Gotta write something.” said the woman breaking Connie’s intense focus on the board.

“No specials?” Connie enquired.

“We haven’t done anything special here for quite sometime” the woman replied.

“Are you okay?” she asked noting the rawness in Connie’s eyes from where she had been crying.

“Just having a bad day, that’s all” replied Connie.

The woman smiled, there was a kindness to her face but Connie was in no doubt that this woman could handle herself if need be.

“Come inside for a drink then” the woman suggested “As the sign says, we are trouble free”

“I didn’t think you were open” said Connie looking up at the building with it’s flaky paint and cracked windows.

The woman followed her gaze and shrugged “This place is never closed to the troubled” she said with a smile and then opened the creaky wooden door to go inside.

Connie paused for a moment, twiddling her phone between her fingers. It had been a rough day already. Maybe just a quick drink to collect her thoughts.

If the mysterious blue haired woman was right maybe it would be a trouble free respite, even if this was unlikely to be the most comfortable place she had ever been in. What harm would one drink do? It’s not as if her day could get any worse.

Putting the phone back in her pocket she opened the door and entered the pub.

That simple act meant she would not die that day; her story would continue. Yet it was now a different story and one that still may not necessarily end well for Connie….Or for anyone for that matter.

Part Three >

The Unerotica Of Selina IX : A Song Of Tyler & Bryce – Part Nine

“Why are you surprised?”

The final Snoflakian dove reached the D’Annimos. Strangely, they were not expecting such an invitation which was surprising given they are all about prophecy.

Nevertheless,with all the invitations sent, thoughts inevitably turned to the peace summit itself.

How would the families all react to the suggestion of peace? This ideal of living together in harmony, to work together for the prosperity of all inhabitants of Earthykinda. To create a world not defined by war and suffering but of understanding and respect.

Well, from what Bryce could work out they were all planning to use the Peace Summit to kill one another.

The Toonidunzas had a very straightforward plan – have sex with them, kill them, eat them and not necessarily always in that order.

The D’Annimos were just going to poison everyone and given that they are all prophetic they probably had an idea whether their plan was going to work or not.

The Bursteads were a little more devious and planned to rule the kingdoms not by obvious force but by stealth.

Their intention was to suggest that the families are united by marriage. With everyone effectively related there would be peace.

Bryce was unsure if this was a master stroke of diplomacy or if this was more to do with their preference for suitors. If everyone is technically related maybe nobody will care what the brother and sister got up to.

In any event, once married the intention was to kill everyone else anyway.

Despite calling for the Peace Summit the Snoflakians had a similar plan, although it was a little more subtle.

Like the Bursteads they wanted the families united by marriage but such a union would not immediately end in death.

The Snoflakians would use the weaknesses of their enemies to manipulate their strengths. They wanted peace but it had to be on their terms.

If the others refused to be compliant then that is when they would die. It was quite clear that even peace loving Snoflakians could be like a cunning Burstead when they had to.

Clearly, everyone had an ulterior motive for wishing to attend the peace summit.

Bryce left the world of Earthykinda to concentrate on some developments in her own life. She too was dealing with an unexpected invitation.

“Why are you surprised? You are my girlfriend after all”

Bryce blushed and lowered her head. She loved hearing Tyler refer to her as ‘his girlfriend’.

They had been dating for sometime but this invitation to the wedding would be the first time he would introduce her to his family and close friends…..and she’d be introduced as his girlfriend!

“It’s in a Hotel, so I thought we can stay there the evening. You know, so we could both have a drink”

“Separate rooms?” Bryce enquired.

“Well a lot of guests are staying” Tyler replied, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck “So….I could only get one room”

Bryce just nodded. It was understandable that it would be difficult as well as expensive to get two rooms. It was a long drive to the Hotel and neither of them would want to make that trip home late at night.

Yet in the back of her mind something troubled Bryce. Was Tyler expecting sex? That the potent cocktail of wedding romance and alcohol would be enough for Bryce to willingly give up her virginity?

Maybe Bryce would be happy to do so. That seeing how proudly he introduced her to his family would be confirmation that he is her one true love.

But what if she didn’t feel that way? Should she just agree to any sexual request, if nothing more out of gratitude for a lovely evening?

Of course Tyler may not be expecting that at all. His reasons may be genuine and honourable; he most likely would offer to sleep on the floor.

Bryce cursed herself for even thinking that Tyler may have less than gentlemanly intentions.

After all, not all invitations have an ulterior motive.