Author Topic: The Vault Porn Writers' Guild  (Read 62337 times)

Offline lastfrontier

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Re: The Vault Porn Writers' Guild
« Reply #300 on: Jun 07, 2011, 01:25:26 AM »
 ;) hope you liked part one heres part 2

I had no clue what she meant by that, and I damn sure wasn't going to move around enough to move my hand. When she had shifted, she had also moved her left arm more around me so that her hand was resting on my left side just below the side of my breast. The good news was that my headache had almost gone away, and that both our breasts had gone back to being just "plain old friends" soft again; my goofy thoughts were obviously just that, and as for that wave of heat-well, that was probably just the wine. Then she moved her leg-oh shit! Not good.

As Julie began to stroke the side of my neck once again, and let her fingers flow over to my left shoulder, her right leg shifted slightly... just enough to cause my hand to slip, and my thumb to lightly rest on the skin just inside the opening of her shorts. Now, we had seen each other naked before, and both of us kept ourselves neat, with just a small, well trimmed patch of hair, just above our pussies... so I knew what that skin was, and it wasn't her leg. I froze, which only made it worse, cause there my thumb was... resting up against the lip of her pussy, and my fingers spread out on her inner thigh like some high school kid about to get his finger wet! Her only reaction was to stop her hand on my shoulder, and wait for a split second before continuing. I tried to be cool and eased my hand back down her leg a few inches, which made it seem as if I caressed her inner thigh-at least that's what her breasts thought; I felt her nipples become instantly hard and she let out a little sigh almost right in my ear... her warm breath streamed across my neck, and just as suddenly, my nipples were back to full attention again-damn!

Julie's fingertips stroked down to the top of my exposed breast and made a few circles there, and then came in and a little down into my cleavage. Instead of going back up like she had been doing, though, she came around to the outside and traced the outer edge of my breast almost to the bottom curve. I didn't think this had anything to do with my headache, or a massage, but I had no idea what to do... it did feel incredibly good, after all, and she couldn't mean anything by it... right?... right? Her hand moved to re-trace her path, but as she did, her palm lightly brushed my already erect nipple-not like before, but slow and sensually. That hot flush rushed through my thighs again and exploded in my stomach; it was all I could manage not to gasp. There was no doubt that she did that one on purpose, and no doubt that my nipple damn well liked it-it was ready to cut glass again! I couldn't, however, keep my hand from tensing and gripping more tightly to Julie's thigh... that silky thigh... STOP IT, SANDY! Geezzz!

I was beginning to get more and more confused, but it was becoming clear that my best friend was making a move on me; and I wasn't sure how I felt about that. I mean, I'm no prude... I'm as open minded as the next girl... I thought. I'd had the "what if" and the "would you, if" discussions with the girls at our get-togethers over the years, and had been one of the more adventurous sounding ones there. Was it all just talk? … YES! I was scared here: scared to open my eyes-scared to breath-scared to move-scared not to. I wished to hell I was a lot more drunk than I was, then it would be easy to... what?... What, Sandy? Lay back and let it happen? Is that what I would do if I could blame it on being drunk? Deep down, is that what I would do-fuck my best friend? I didn't get to the answer-I was brought back to reality (reality?) by fingernails-four of them slowly chasing goose bumps towards my right shoulder.

Julie then switched to those fingertips again, and slowly ran them down my right arm till she covered my hand with hers. She stopped there and gently pressed it into her thigh, making my fingers grip her leg in a sensuous grip I didn't totally resist. I was being carried away by something I didn't understand, but the fire that was starting to burn in my loins was stronger than any I'd ever felt. She tried to move my hand up her thigh, but I resisted. Her left hand moved to gently cup my exposed breast as her thumb ran round and round on the tiny bumps raised on my crinkled aureola, and every few trips, paused to press and bend my eraser-sized nipple... she gently but deeply rolled my entire nipple between her thumb and forefinger; the sensation was the strongest I'd ever felt there, and it moved with that quivering, electric shiver down to the center of my belly, at the same time a long gasp escaped my lips. I opened my eyes and looked over into Julie's soft hazel ones. She squeezed ever so slightly more.

Offline lastfrontier

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Re: The Vault Porn Writers' Guild
« Reply #301 on: Jun 07, 2011, 01:29:03 AM »
"Oh God, Julie," I said, at the same time that the shiver collided with the hot flush rushing up from my thighs, and both combined to burst in a hot wave radiating from deep inside my lower abdomen-reversing to run a heated race to chase a wild tingle down my legs all the way to my toes, and at the same time to run that tingle's sister up into my throat with the heat of the chase hot on her heels. My body shook as a second, stronger wave followed, to be quickly chased by a third, almost overwhelming wave of mixed heat and electricity that caused my fingers and toes to momentarily go almost numb, and a rushing sound that shut everything else out for several seconds. As my body slowly came back to me, Julie's face came back into focus -- she had a little "I ate the canary" smile-I struggled to breathe.

I'd just had the strongest orgasm I 'd ever experienced... and just from having my nipple tweaked-damn! I felt my face flush, and my eyes tear up enough to cause Julie's face to blur as she leaned down and kissed me; the gentlest, but at the same time the sexiest kiss I'd ever had. At first I didn't respond, but then, I melted into her, and opened my lips and let her in to me, and me in to her.

After that incredible kiss, I melted back into her, once again giving myself up to her ministrations... my mind racing, trying to catch up with the sensations my body was experiencing, but suddenly one stole all my attention... my forgotten right hand; it was still under hers, but was now being guided up her thigh towards the bottom of her shorts. I was way past the point of resistance, so I just waited to see what she would do with it … but I was afraid I knew. She continued upwards until the tips of my fingers were just starting to slip under the opening of her shorts, stopped, slid her hand off mine, and started down the outside of my leg with those soft caresses I was so familiar with. When she got to the end of her reach, she moved to the inside of my thigh and started back up. I had that warm feeling going again, but I was completely caught by surprise when her hand continued until it slid into the opening of my shorts and onto the now slick skin of my pussy.

I gasped as the breath caught in my throat, and Julie slid her finger into the wetness between my lips, and moved to circle my clit. I didn't …hell, couldn't, do anything to protest as she moved two more fingers to softly spread the lips of my pussy, and began to circle and flick my clit with a slow tempo that increased to match my now ragged, but rapidly increasing breathing. My body was moving to an increasing rhythm, and Julie kept her finger in perfect pace with me. The feeling in my clit, radiating outward from so deep inside me, so soon after my previous orgasm, was so strong I thought I'd surely pass out, but no damn way was I going to miss this! My own hand had moved into Julie's shorts and mimicked her movements without my conscious control; I knew it was there, and what it was doing, but it didn't register right away that it was my first touch of another woman. When it did, I didn't waste a lot of thought on it-I was busy with bigger problems-like having the most earthshaking orgasm known to modern woman … or at least to me.

As Julie moved her finger faster and faster, there was a split second pause as my body rose up and almost went rigid, then a simultaneous explosion in my pussy and every other part of my body with a heat wave that I thought would surely kill me. My vision filled with little silver spots as my throat struggled to get a breath, but the waves kept coming so fast, I literally couldn't breathe. After what seemed forever, the orgasms trailed off, and allowed me to take a breath.

"Fuck!" Was all I could say as I quivered with tiny aftershocks.

As I slowly regained control of my body and mind (yeah, right!), and enjoyed the warm glow still in my body, I could pay more attention to my hand, and to Julie … oh, yeah. My fingers were still in Julie's pussy … still slowly exploring her as if marking time until I could give them my full attention.

"Sandy-damn," Julie let out another long sigh, much huskier than before.

I couldn't believe how incredible she felt as I moved my fingers between the lips of her labia, and let them slide the length of her pussy... which was so wet my fingers were covered with her slick, silky moisture. I'd never touched a woman like this, and couldn't believe I was doing it now, but the heat in my thighs, and my wet pussy told me I damn sure was. I was so wet I could feel it running down into the crack of my ass, which turned me on even more. I slowly ran my fingertip around the inside lips of Julie's pussy, and then back outside to the tender skin between there and the joining of her hip and thigh, causing a shudder to run through her … payback's a bitch!

I still couldn't believe I was doing this, but there was no way I could stop... I was going to... well... I was... shit! I was going to fuck Julie's brains out, and I was damn well going to enjoy it!

Keeping my hand where it was, I rose up (she didn't try to stop me this time), and turned around till I faced her as she lay back against the sofa cushions. I slowly unbuttoned my nightshirt and let it fall from my shoulders. Now freed and open for inspection, my breasts were tipped with two eraser-sized nipples that begged to be sucked-but first things first. Julie was now facing me, eyes locked on my breasts, legs spread apart on either side of me; I put my hands on the inside of those beautiful legs and pushed up the inside of her thighs as I worked my way forward on my knees. I kept right on going past her shorts, after pausing just long enough to make her suck in a quick little breath, and slid my hands up under her t-shirt until I cupped each of her nearly perfect breasts, and softly kneaded them as I leaned forward and pulled her shirt up over her head, and flung it away as I locked my eyes to hers. I leaned into her and took her face in my hands as I brought my lips to hers, our breasts pushed together, and sealed another, more urgent kiss. Our tongues met as our lips pressed and moved at a fever pitch that left us both breathless when we finally pulled apart. I ran my tongue around the outer line of her mouth... then down towards her throat as she moaned and laid her head back into the sofa.

My lips and tongue followed my fingers as I moved along the tender hollow of her neck, and onto her chest where those beautiful breasts lay in wait; her light brown nipples so hard they must be as painful as mine should be (but weren't). My nipples were caressing her body as I lowered myself down until my mouth came to her right breast; my tongue traced the line of it around and underneath... causing another shudder to run through her. Continuing up slowly towards the nipple from below, I changed direction just before my tongue reached it, and traced a circle around it on the soft skin just outside the brown halo; this caused her to shudder even more, and to grab my shoulder and squeeze.

I repeated these teasing movements several more times until I finally took her entire nipple into my mouth, very gently, and ran my tongue around the tip of it, while gently sucking deeply in that way that makes me feel weak, and at the same time almost sends me into spasms deep inside-it apparently did that to Julie, too.

I released her and ran my fingernails down the front of her stomach... following with my lips and tongue, leaving warm tattoos of little kisses as I went. When my hands reached the waistband of her shorts, I stopped, and concentrated on her navel with my tongue... getting it all wet and sloppy, and causing her to squirm and give out a tiny giggle. That giggle froze when I started to pull down her shorts. I had to partially stand so I could get them off her legs, but that gave me a chance to take mine off... and there we were... staring at each other like never before-damn, but she was beautiful. I had a feeling deep between my legs that I couldn't describe, except to say hot... very hot... and it made my legs so weak, they were wobbly; as I knelt on the floor between Julie's legs and placed my hands on her knees, she looked at me.

"Oh, God, Sandy... damn."

Offline lastfrontier

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Re: The Vault Porn Writers' Guild
« Reply #302 on: Jun 07, 2011, 01:31:44 AM »
( >:(  sorry Didnt seem this long when i first wrote it as an email )

"You started this," I said, as my voice trembled.

Julie just gave me one of her little curled lip looks, and the heat between my legs went up about three notches.

I pushed her legs open, and followed my hands up the inside of her thighs with a trail of hot breath, bringing instant goose bumps to every inch of those tight, muscular legs. As my fingers reached the meeting of her legs and body, I let my fingernails trace a slow pattern around the tender skin, and watched as her abdomen fluttered with little twitches; I let each of my forefingers pull its fingernail down the outer edge of her labia, and almost disappear into the crack of her ass-she almost raised off the sofa at that one. I continued to let my fingers run down her ass and to lightly flicker across its opening, bringing another moan and shudder... I filed that one for future reference... and then slid my hands around the outside of her legs, and gripped her inner thighs from the top.

I gave her a hot, wet kiss on the inner thigh, and followed by licking a path upwards into the tender skin my fingers had just left. I pulled her legs a bit further apart to better expose her to me and kissed her about three inches to the left of her pussy, right in that tender hollow that everyone always seems to forget. I used the full width of my tongue as I slowly licked the entire area there and around to the other side, ignoring everywhere else, except to lightly brush her clit with my cheek as I came across the top (this got a much louder moan, but I wasn't going to be sidetracked that easily). I brought my tongue down to the super-sensitive area between her pussy and her ass, and concentrated on tickling this and the sides of her thighs that came together there. Julie was squirming, and moaning, so I knew she was enjoying this-I guess I was doing ok,  I was just doing what I knew I liked, and it seemed to be working.

While my tongue was teasing this best area, and just up to the lower parting of her pussy, my right hand had slid around to let my finger... yes, that one... begin to trace light patterns on the inside of her thighs. I began to allow my tongue to lick the outside lips of her engorged labia, and return down the tart, tangy edge of them... first one side, then the other. My finger lightly flickered across her asshole and she tensed and moaned louder-I could take a hint; I let my finger rest on the opening, and put just the slightest pressure, and release … then repeat, in a pulsing movement that brought a rhythmic motion to her hips. I slowly drew my tongue to this area, and traced a pattern around it in a wet tracing... her wetness was still on my tongue with a tartness that was as much sensation as it was taste. I replaced my pulsing finger with my tongue, and rolled it around the edge of her opening-she sucked her breath in till I thought her lungs would burst, and then let it out in a long, loud, raspy sound.

"Oh, Sandy... oh, please... please!"

I slipped the very tip of my tongue about a quarter inch inside her, and drew it almost back out, and then back in again... and then about a half an inch in, and she clamped down on my head with her thighs, gave a load groan and came with a shock wave that shook both of us. I held her tightly around the thighs and let her rock us. As she settled back into the sofa with a low sigh, and a stroke of my hair, I grinned my own little "ate the canary" grin... I wasn't done yet... and neither was she.

I gripped her with my left arm, and licked up towards her wet, flushed pussy, not stopping to tease, but filling her pussy lips and covering her with my mouth, so as to let none of her escape me. I took her totally by surprise. As I covered her clit, I didn't take time for any subtleties-we were beating to a different tempo now, and I didn't want to lose the moment! I took her upper pussy into my mouth as if it were a soft ice cream cone, and tried my best to suck it all in at once... then rolled my tongue around her clit at double time-round and round and round and round!

She tensed up on her heels and brought her ass off the sofa at the same time I inserted my first two fingers into her pussy, and, with my palm facing me... curled those two fingers, and began a rhythmic "come here" motion, with the tips rubbing against the front wall of her vagina, right where her G spot should be... should be. I guess I must have hit something right, because the poor girl hit high C and started talking in tongues at the same instant. She bucked, and shook... literally screamed out my name four times... took a double handful of my hair, and pulled my face into her pussy so hard I almost lost two teeth and suffocated before she was finished coming.

Later, when we had caught our breath, and were lying naked, tangled together on the sofa, all wet and still quivering... Julie stopped playing with my nipple, and looked up at me.

"You know, it's going to be your turn next... and payback is a bitch!"

Yeah... dont I know it!

Offline Serpiente

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Re: The Vault Porn Writers' Guild
« Reply #303 on: Jul 12, 2011, 10:52:32 PM »
It will be nine months, tomorrow.

Nine months since Ava passed.

She was 83 years old when breast cancer took her.

By the end, that lively (at times, almost fierce) spirit of hers took a beating.

So, when she finally surrendered the fight, it was something of a mercy.

I won't try to tell you how much I miss her.

I couldn't anyway.

That language hasn't been fashioned yet.

What I will do is introduce you to her. The Ava I first encountered, unbowed by time or disease.


In May of 1956, I had just graduated from the School of Industrial Art in New York. It's moved since then and changed its name, but it was (and still is, as far as I know) a high school for training commercial artists. I wanted to be, of all things, a newspaper comic strip artist, which was a tough row to hoe for a female back then.

Upon graduating, Mr. Dylan, one of my favorite teachers, had arranged for me to apprentice with an acquaintance of his. Her name was Ava Parker and she was a freelancer for several New York comic book publishers. It wasn't exactly the sort of prestigious newspaper venue that I aspired to, but as Mr. Dylan had said, "Everybody's gotta start somewhere". Besides, he had assured me that she was very good at her job and would provide an excellent springboard for the career I wanted to pursue.

When I initially voiced some hesitation at the arrangement, Mr. Dylan put his hands on my shoulders, looked me in the eye and said, "I have tremendous faith in your abilities. You've got talent to spare. All you need now are the skills and polish to match. Believe me, Miss Parker will see that you get those."

To prepare me for the interview, Mr. Dylan told me a little about the artist before I went to see her. "So long as you give her your best effort, you couldn't ask for an easier person to get along with. She takes a lot of pride in her work and she'll insist that you do the same. But knowing you", he touched his index finger affectionately beneath my chin, "I don't anticipate any problems on that score."

"By the way", Mr. Dylan went on, "Miss Parker is a pioneer in more ways than one. Not only is she one of the few females currently working in comics, she's also one of the only negroes in the business. You've gotta have a special brand of single-mindedness to persevere through some of the crap she's had to put up with."

I am ashamed to admit that upon hearing that information, I felt a hint of trepidation. You see, I had grown up in a small village on the lower Wisconsin River. Almost everyone there was of German ancestry and the few who weren't were certainly not colored. In the short time since my family had moved to New York I had little time for socializing and none of that had brought me into contact with any of that race. Those of you reading this in the 21st century may find it difficult to believe that any of us were so insulated back then. Just remember that this was decades before the Internet and in the small town I was from, most of us listened to the radio regularly, but only a couple of families had television sets.

I was somewhat intimidated by my ignorance. Even though I felt like a complete hayseed, I voiced my apprehension to Mr. Dylan. He laughed in response. Not a caustic, condescending snicker, but a warm chuckle. "Don't worry, Stephanie. You don't need any special knowledge. Miss Parker will have you feeling like an old friend in no time flat. Besides, she'll keep you too busy to worry about anything. Just don't forget your old teacher when you're a famous cartoonist."

This is how I found myself at the entrance of a five-story walk-up on a beautiful spring morning in the lower east side of Manhattan. The building was an old, but well-kept brownstone row house and her apartment studio was on the third floor.

Before I knocked on her door, I took a deep breath and tried to calm my nerves. I was still quite shy back then and this would be my first job interview ever. I desperately wanted this to go well. "Okay...", I thought, "here goes nothing".

When Miss Parker opened the door, my first glimpse of her took me completely by surprise. I knew she had been a professional cartoonist for a number of years, so I hadn't expected anyone so young. She couldn't possibly have been thirty yet. She was also the most breathtakingly beautiful woman I've ever seen in my life, before or since.

Her eyes were what snared your attention first. Large and expressive, they were shaded by long lashes and glittered with a lively intelligence. The irises were amber flecked with gold. Above them, her eyebrows were not plucked and redrawn into the artificial arches so popular then, but were natural, full and gently curving. Her skin was a light golden brown unadorned with make-up. The symmetrical slopes and planes of her visage seemed designed especially to seduce the eye into lingering there.

Offline Serpiente

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Re: The Vault Porn Writers' Guild
« Reply #304 on: Jul 12, 2011, 10:54:31 PM »
This was a face on which nature had lavished exceptional care. It was framed by a dark, lustrous mane which she had pulled out of her way into a pony tail, though a few stray tresses draped across her brow.

As if my astonishment at her loveliness was not yet complete, she upped the ante by smiling. A smile that suffused those already breathtaking features with a warmth and kindness that had me liking her instantly. Extending her hand in my direction, she said, "You must be Miss Kendall. I'm Ava. Won't you please come in?"

The apartment had no foyer, so stepping through the entrance put me directly into the living room. It was simply, but neatly furnished. Miss Parker gestured toward the sofa and asked me to have a seat. "Please excuse the state I'm in. I've got a job that's due the day after tomorrow and I'm a little frazzled."

The state she's in? Did she mean her attire? Miss Parker had on an untucked blue plaid men's shirt and dungarees. But she filled that plain garb with voluptuous curves that would've made a movie star envious.

A closer inspection revealed ink stains on her hands, blouse and slacks. Maybe that's what she was referring to, though it's hardly surprising to find such smudges on an artist at work.

Seating herself in an armchair that was diagonal to the couch, Miss Parker clasped her hands under her chin and looked directly into my eyes. "I realize that this was supposed to be an interview for a job as my assistant. But, I find myself in a bit of a pickle and I wonder if you'd be willing to give me a hand?"

"How so?" I asked.

"Well, do you think you could dive right in today? If you could do background inking, panel borders, filling in black areas and erasing, it would be a great help. Paul... that is, your Mr. Dylan, showed me some samples of your work and I know you're more than capable. Otherwise, I don't see how I'll make this deadline. What do you say?"

I stood up and gestured down at my clothes, "Well, I came dressed for an interview, not..." Before I finished, Miss Parker chimed in, "Not to worry. I've got some things you can wear. I'm a little taller than you, so they won't fit perfectly, but there's nobody here except us, and we'll be too focused on getting the job done to care much."

'Won't fit perfectly'? Now, there was a hell of an understatement. Don't get me wrong. I had a good figure, but I couldn't come close to filling out the simple shirt and overalls she gave me the way she did. But, as she had pointed out, who was gonna see me?

Miss Parker's apartment had two bedrooms, the second of which, while it did have a bed, served primarily as her studio. It contained two drawing tables that faced each other, both with an adjacent taboret for art supplies. She sat me down at one of them and handed me a small stack of original comic book pages in various stages of completion. Some were simply rough layouts in which figures, backgrounds and word balloons were only sketched in to suggest the panel compositions, but none of the details were yet nailed down. Others were tightly rendered pencil drawings with completed lettering and some or all of the main figures inked.

Sometime in the 1960's, the size of the original comic art gradually switched to one and a half times the size of the printed page. But, in '56 nearly everyone was still working twice up and the artist, if he or she was so inclined, really had the room to do detailed linework. And, believe me, Miss Parker was definitely so inclined. The quality of her line was lively, fluid and graceful. There was also a bravura quality that I found somewhat intimidating. I wondered how the hell I was ever supposed to match this kind of skill, spirit and sheer daring.

Miss Parker leaned over my shoulder as she pointed to the pages, giving instructions. I found her nearness oddly distracting. First of all, there was her fragrance. No perfume, I think, just her natural scent combined with whatever soap and shampoo she used. Whatever it was, it smelled wonderfully fresh and alluring.

There was also the matter of having such loveliness so close at hand. I had to resist the temptation to turn and look at her with a more leisurely gaze, giving my eyes time to tarry on the details. But that would've been weird and rude at such close proximity. I became annoyed with myself for acting like a starstruck schoolgirl when I needed to be focused on the task at hand. "What the hell is wrong with me?" I wondered.

Thank God, I did manage to pull myself together and pay close attention to the rest of her directions. When she was done, Miss Parker (I guess I should refer to her as Ava from here on out, because she told me that's what she preferred) sat down at the other table and we spent the next several hours there in relative silence interrupted only by my occasional questions.

Each of my queries was answered patiently, clearly and concisely. At one point, Miss Par... I mean Ava... came around behind me to observe while I was inking a page. While I was in school, I usually preferred to work with a brush, but Ava had asked me to use a crow quill pen to try to match the style of the pages she'd already inked. After watching me for a few moments, Ava told me "Don't be afraid of that pen, sweetie. You're not gonna hurt it."

"I didn't want to break the nib or spatter ink everywhere."

"Let me sit there for a moment." She took the pen from my hand. "You're moving the pen slowly, carefully... never varying the pressure you're putting on the nib. The result is exacting, but dull."

Offline Serpiente

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Re: The Vault Porn Writers' Guild
« Reply #305 on: Jul 12, 2011, 10:55:52 PM »
Ava dipped the pen into the India ink, then made a mark on scrap paper to get rid of the excess ink. After that, with a quick swipe of the pen, she began a thin delicate stroke which morphed into a bold and voluptuous thing that might have been made with a brush. "Do you see how much force I brought to bear here?" Ava interjected. "Don't fret about the nib. It can take a lot more than you're likely willing to dish out." The line became slender again as it made a roughly ninety degree turn and then curved faintly and widened slightly. "Varying the line weight can suggest form and volume." I watched in astonishment as a beautifully rendered human arm began to appear on the paper. The grace and variety of the strokes she used was a revelation!

When she was done, Ava stood up and handed me the pen. "I know we're on a tight deadline, but I want you to spend at least half an hour with scrap paper and this nib. I want you to attack that paper. No timidity whatsoever. Find out what this pen is capable of. Loops, dashes, cross-hatching, feathering, thin to thick and back again. Really test it."

I began to think that Mr. Dylan had been right. Ava was going to be an excellent teacher.

In fact, the art she had me working on was instructional in and of itself. Aside from the brilliant linework, about which I've already sung praises, her compositions were fresh and dynamic and the panel-to-panel transitions were clear and fluid. Her figure work was never limited to stock poses, but consisted of believable, well-observed postures and gestures that always enhanced the dialogue. Miss Parker later told me she thought of this as 'acting with a pencil'.

If this was the kind of work she turned out in a hurry, I couldn't wait to see what she could do when she had more time.

My thoughts... and the room's stillness... were eventually disturbed by a long, low growling which emanated from the vicinity of my tummy. I grinned sheepishly at Ava over the top edge of the drawing table, "Sorry. I haven't eaten since lunch."

A stricken look troubled Ava's lovely features, "Oh, honey, I'm the one who should be sorry. I can't believe I was so thoughtless."

Rising from her table, Ava moved to the room's doorway, "Do you like spaghetti?"

"Yes, ma'am. I..."

"'Yes, ma'am'? How old do you think I am?" Before I could answer, she continued, "That was rhetorical, sweetheart. Relax. Remember... it's just Ava; not Miss Parker and certainly not ma'am.

"Yes, ma'a... I... I mean... okay. Oh, gosh! I'm so sorry. It's just that my parents really drilled this stuff into me. Everything was 'sir' or 'ma'am'. They were pretty strict and kind of old-fashioned. They definitely stressed how important it was for me to respect my el..." I blushed and covered my face with my hands. "I should just stop talking now."

Through my fingers, I could see Ava cock her hips jauntily with her arms akimbo. "Well, Stephanie, once you've hit bottom, there's really no point in continuing to dig."

"Now", she went on, "that we've established that you're okay with spaghetti, do you enjoy broccoli, as well?"

"Yes, m..." I caught myself, yet again, then sputtered, "Yes. Just plain 'yes'."

Ava laughed and headed off to the kitchen. I continued working on the pages she'd given me while the clatter of pots and pans and, eventually, a heavenly aroma, wafted from the kitchen.

Ava called for me to come eat and showed me where the washroom was. In the dining room, I sat down to a sumptuous plate of spaghetti in marinara sauce, broccoli and garlic bread. After I'd said my grace, I noticed Ava watching me with curiosity in her eyes. "Are you Catholic?"

I caught myself this time before uttering the forbidden response and simply mumbled, "Mmm-hmm." which was easier with my mouth full anyway. After I'd swallowed, I asked, "How about you?"

"Well, I was raised Catholic, but I guess it didn't stick."

"What faith are you, then?" I asked naively.

"Truth is," she answered between mouthfuls, "I never could find much use for faith."

I digested this in silence, thinking of the Freethinkers Society back in my hometown. My mom had always been suspicious and disdainful of them, but I remembered several of their number as good-hearted people.

The meal Ava prepared was delicious and provided a gracious means for me to change the subject.

"The sauce on this spaghetti... it's a-MAY-zing! Where on earth did you learn to cook like this?"

At my praise, another of those breathtaking smiles lit her features. "My pop. He was a carpenter when the depression hit. Things got so bad that white men couldn't find work, so there sure as hell wasn't any he could find. Well, dad was orphaned at a young age and raised by an Italian family that were friends with his folks. Pop always said that Mama Agostina was a genius in the kitchen and she taught him everything she knew."

"When work in carpentry dried up, he applied for anything he could get. All he could find were short, temporary jobs. Eventually though, he landed a spot as a chef in an Italian restaurant. Do you know how good (and how lucky) a colored man had to be to get something like that?" Ava spoke with obvious pride.

After many twists and turns, our conversation wound its way to our working arrangements. She was pleased with the work I'd done so far, but she warned me that the hours were long and the pay was low. She did point out, however, that both of her previous assistants had moved on to freelance careers of their own. One of them, in fact, had landed a syndicated newspaper strip of his own, which, for those of you who don't know, was a much more lucrative and prestigious field than comic books.

"Have you ever thought of going to the syndicates?" I wondered aloud.

"The money's good." she admitted. Our meal over, Ava began to clear the table. "But, I've ghosted a few times for newspaper guys who were sick or had some other kind of deadline crunch, and I didn't care for it much. The size restrictions are just too claustrophobic. I got into this business 'cause I love to tell stories with pictures, but there's just no elbow room in the paper. I don't know how you're supposed to spin a decent yarn in just three panels a day."

I was impressed. I knew that Ava had been working in the field for nearly ten years and yet, somehow, she hadn't lost her idealism. It occurred to me how fortunate I was that Mr. Dylan has recommended me for this job.

While scrubbing our dinner dishes, Ava asked, "Where do you live?"

"Hmmm? Oh... with my parents in Queens. Why?"

"Well, it's gotten pretty late. I'd hate for you to try to catch a bus or ride the subway alone at this hour. Why don't you take the spare bed in the studio room? There's no bath, but you can shower and I've got spare clean pajamas."

"Thanks. I'd definitely prefer that to traipsing around out there at this hour."

"You'd better give your folks a call and let them know where you are. No sense worrying them sick over nothing."

When I finished my shower and exited the bathroom in Ava's ill-fitting PJ's, I found her back at the drawing board.

She heard me in the doorway and looked up, "Oh. If you're ready for bed, I'll get out of your way."

"No, thank you. The shower woke me up a bit. Maybe I can get a little more done as well."

Ava gave a grateful smile and lowered her head to draw again, "The deadlines are always awful, but this is worse than usual. When I went in to work on Monday to pick up my check and a new script, the editor was crying the blues because one of his regular pencilers had left him in the lurch. I let him talk me into taking an extra script home. So, now I've gotta get two stories done in the time it usually takes me to finish one." Ava wagged her pen at me in mock admonishment, "Don't follow my example. Make sure you're not anyone's doormat. Learn to say 'No'."

A couple of hours later, I was yawning for the tenth time in as many minutes. I told Ava, "I'm sorry, but I don't think I've got another brush stroke in me."

"No need to apologize, sweetie. I'm truly grateful for all the hours you've already put in. This is way above the call of duty, especially since we hadn't even come to a formal arrangement when I asked for your help. I should be able to get this in on time now without turning in a really crap job. Thank you."

"Glad I could lend a hand." I cleaned my brushes and tidied my work area a bit before shambling over to plop down on the double-bed.

"Will it keep you awake if I continue working for a while longer?"

I gave her a bleary-eyed smile, "I don't think anything could stop me from sleeping at this point. But, aren't you exhausted, too?"

"Not really. I often work the whole night through and go to bed around seven or eight in the morning. I do some of my best work between one and five when the world is still and there's very little to distract me."

Crawling under the blanket, I turned my back on the swing-arm drafting lamp that illuminated her toil. A momentous yawn mushroomed in the middle of my, "Good night" and, before I knew it, I was fast asleep.

I woke the next morning, momentarily disoriented by the strange surroundings. When I remembered where I was, I noticed that Ava had thoughtfully closed the blinds and shut the curtains so that the early sunlight wouldn't disturb my rest. A truly mouth-watering aroma had made its way under the closed door of the room. That and a healthy morning appetite inspired my quick exit from bed.

Offline Serpiente

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Re: The Vault Porn Writers' Guild
« Reply #306 on: Jul 12, 2011, 11:01:13 PM »
Both bedrooms and the bathroom were in the back of the apartment. The doorways opened into a short, narrow hallway which delivered you to a dining room on the right and a kitchen on the left. The dining room led into the living room with no dividing wall. I found Ava placing two full plates on the dining room table. She looked up at me and smiled, "Good morning, sleepyhead." I returned her greeting and was struck anew by her startling loveliness. It took a conscious effort on my part not to gawk like some adoring fan at a movie star.

Moving back into the kitchen, Ava spoke over her shoulder, "I won't ask how your night was. I just came out of there a half an hour ago and you hardly stirred the entire time I was working."

"Oh my gosh! You haven't been to bed yet!?"

"Nope. I told you, the middle of the night's my favorite time to work. But believe me, once I get some chow in me, I'm gonna grab a quick shower and I will definitely get some shuteye." Ava pored steaming water from a kettle into a ceramic mug. "I'm gonna have some tea with my breakfast. Want some or would you rather have some OJ or water?"

I opted for the tea, which Ava brought to the table and then sat down near me. Just as last night, the food was delicious and I told her so. "I'm amazed any of your previous assistants could bear to leave this behind."

Ava smiled at my praise, "It's all part of my insidious plan to keep you from wandering too far from the drawing board."

As I ate, my eyes kept wandering back to her face. The singular beauty of her features seduced my gaze into lingering for longer and longer until she couldn't help but notice.

"Have I got ink or something on my face?"

"N-no. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare. It's just that... I mean... um.. well... I-I've never seen anyone so beautiful before." I blushed with embarrassment at how childish that sounded.

Ava reddened slightly herself and seemed pleasantly surprised at the compliment.

I responded, "That must've been odd to hear from another female, but I'm guessing guys must tell you all the time how gorgeous you are."

Ava blushed again. "When I first got into this business, I worked in a couple of different bullpens. And, yeah, some of the guys did lay it on a bit thick, but I never took it too much to heart. Not after seeing what wolves they were. Some of them would hit on anything in a skirt. So, it was easy to keep my ego from getting too puffed up by their attentions."

"Nowadays", Ava went on, "as a freelancer, I spend so much time to myself that I don't hear too many compliments or complaints from anybody. So, your appreciation is more than welcome."

Rising from the table, Ava began to gather our dishes. "It's long past my nap-time, sweetie. If you've got more work in you, you're more than welcome to stay here, but please don't feel obligated. I understand if you want to get out for fresh air or check in at home."

"No, no. After the sleep and the food, I'm ready to go again."

"Great." Ava's lips curved again into that unforgettable smile. "I need to do some grocery shopping later, but there are plenty of fixings for sandwiches in the fridge when you get hungry again. There's also juice and water and some fresh fruit on the kitchen counter. Please make yourself at home."

Offline Serpiente

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Re: The Vault Porn Writers' Guild
« Reply #307 on: Jul 12, 2011, 11:11:07 PM »

"If you hit a snag", Ava continued, "just move onto something else until after I'm up again. I'll see you in a few hours." With that, she wiggled her fingers and headed back to the bedroom adjacent to the studio.


Over the next several weeks, I gradually changed my schedule to match Ava's. She never insisted on it; it just happened. Like Ava, I came to enjoy the stillness at two in the morning.

The penciling part of the job takes pretty intense concentration. That's the phase in which you're figuring out the page layout, the panel compositions, the figure placement, the lighting, etc. We never talked much while working on that. But, we often had lively conversations while we passed the pages back and forth for inking or lettering. The late hours afforded fewer opportunities for me to get home to see my folks. I spent the night at the studio more and more often, sleeping in the spare bed during the day.

Drawing is usually a lonely occupation, so I truly came to appreciate Ava's companionship.

I couldn't believe how much I learned about the craft in such a short time. My skills were progressing in leaps and bounds under Ava's tutelage.

Since I was around the apartment so much during my off hours, Ava and I were also spending a great deal of our free time together. We went out to the movies at least once a week, often making it a Sunday ritual. The minute we exited the theater, we'd excitedly discuss what the director and cinematographer had done. They used many of the same visual storytelling techniques that we did. Closeups, long shots, establishing shots, framing devices - all the same. So, our weekly excursions were as educational as they were entertaining.

She'd also take me to museums and to probably every used bookstore in and around Manhattan, which, back then, was saying something! In those old bookshops, Ava opened my eyes to the master book and magazine illustrators of the teens, twenties, thirties and forties.

I can still remember the first time she introduced me to the work of Joseph Clement Coll. I actually got goosebumps! He had a confidence, a, a mastery that was almost angelic.

"I know these crazy deadlines don't leave you with much time to call your own," Ava told me, "but whenever you get the chance, you should experiment with other media. Oils, watercolors, pastels, anything that strikes your fancy. It's always good to have as many arrows in your quiver as possible."

"I don't mean to discourage you," Ava continued, "but newspaper strips are harder and harder to come by. For one thing, the number of papers is slowly, but surely dwindling. And even if you do get your own feature, who's to say you'll want to do that for the rest of your life? Magazine illustration is dying and illustrated books for adults are just about non-existent now, but there are still children's books and advertising work to be had. You don't want to limit yourself to just pen and ink."

As if to show me that she practiced what she preached, over the next couple of months I began to find a few watercolor paintings by Ava around the studio. They were all the same size and several of them featured recurring characters. This made me think they were illustrations for something specific, instead of random paintings done just for practice. I was curious, but figured she'd tell me about them when she was ready. I also wondered when the hell she was finding time to do them? I was there with her in the studio nearly all the time, it seemed. Did the woman never sleep?

Offline Serpiente

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Re: The Vault Porn Writers' Guild
« Reply #308 on: Jul 12, 2011, 11:13:04 PM »

I had been with Ava for about three months when my late night debacle happened. It had been a brutal, steamy day in the apartment. We didn't have air-conditioning and actually had to wrap terry cloth around our forearms to keep the sweat from ruining the pages we were working on. The heat and humidity had been so enervating that we quit around midnight and turned in early.

A couple of hours later, I was awakened from my sleep with a terrifying crash.

The day's sultriness had resulted in a truly spectacular thunderstorm.

I have had a mortal dread of thunderstorms since I was a child. I'd never outgrown it. A fact made abundantly clear with the next flash of light, which was followed by that awful hesitation... then a shattering burst of sound. A burst which shook the entire building.

Fear trumped humiliation and I made a beeline for Ava's room.

I hesitated in her doorway, unsure of what to do or say, when Ava rose up on her elbows and asked, "What's wrong, honey?"

Before I could answer, another explosion rattled the air. I screamed and dived for Ava's bed.

Pulling the covers over my head, I babbled, "I'msorryI'msorryI'msorry! Oh God, I know it's stupid, but can I stay in here until it passes?"

I can only imagine Ava's consternation when a full-grown woman came vaulting into her bed in the middle of the night, sobbing like a small child.

But, God bless Ava and her kind heart, she took me in her arms without a moment's hesitation and did her best to soothe me. She made gentle shushing sounds in my ear while one of her hands stroked my hair and the other caressed my back. With me wrapped in her embrace, she couldn't help but notice that I was trembling like a leaf in the wind. Ava said nothing of this. In retrospect, I realize she took great pains not to embarrass me.

When another blast of light lit the room like the sun, it was quickly followed by a detonation that rattled the building again. I screamed.

Ava held me tighter. "It's okay, sweetheart. I'm right here. Nothing's gonna hurt you."

Her voice, her hands, her warm embrace carried me through the storm.

When the tempest passed into distant rumblings, Ava whispered, "You can stay in here if you want."

"Thank you." I turned over, facing away from her. Ava snuggled up behind me and put her arms around me again. After the enervating heat of the day followed by the adrenalin rush of the storm, I was exhausted. The voice, the hands, the embrace that had carried me through the storm, now gentled me to sleep.

When I awoke in Ava's arms the next morning, it took me a moment to realize what I was doing there. Then, memories of the previous night came flooding back. I tried to extricate myself from her arms without waking her, but as soon as I stirred, it roused her. I got out of the bed quickly and said, "I'm sorry I woke you."

Glancing at the clock on her night table, Ava answered, "That's okay. Past time I was up, anyway." Ava looked up at me and I looked down. I was too ashamed to meet her gaze.

"You okay, Stephanie? You get enough sleep?"

"Yes, thank you." My eyes were still cast down at my dithering hands, as if they were the most fascinating things I'd ever seen. "I'm really sorry about last night. I hope I didn't..."



"Look at me, please."

I complied and in the midst of my embarrassment, the incongruous thought flitted through my head, "My God, she's gorgeous!"

She lay on her side, propped up on one elbow. Early morning sun streamed through the window, burnishing that resplendent complexion of hers.

Ava's voice pulled me out of my near mesmerization. "Are you embarrassed about what happened last night?"

Offline Serpiente

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Re: The Vault Porn Writers' Guild
« Reply #309 on: Jul 12, 2011, 11:13:36 PM »
I looked away from her, squinting into a haze of sunlight from the window. "Yes."

"Don't be. Please."

I didn't know what to say.

You can't simply tell someone not to be embarrassed.

You either are or you aren't.

I most decidedly was.

Ava spoke again, "The first year or so after I broke into the business, I worked in a bullpen. I was the only colored person and the only female. No one ever treated me badly, but I never quite fit in either. It's like they handled me with kid gloves... as if they were afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing."

"When I started getting enough steady assignments of my own, it made sense to freelance. So, I rented this apartment and set it up as a studio. Freelancing is lonely work, though. It seems like the only time I ever had any human contact is when I went in to pick up scripts and drop off art."

"Eventually," Ava went on, "the workload became too much for me to handle on my own. I hired an assistant who was recommended to me by one of my editors. He was a disaster. He was competent enough, I suppose, but it quickly became apparent that he resented working for a female, especially a female who was also a negro. So, that only lasted about three months before he hightailed it out of here."

"My second assistant came to me the same way you did, by way of Paul, your teacher, Mr. Dylan. Paul and I went to school together and got to be good friends. I don't know if you know this, but Paul is a pretty good comic book artist himself. Paul's problem, though, was he couldn't hack the deadlines. He was just too slow to make a decent living at it. So, he turned to teaching instead."

"Well, anyway, Geoff, the fellow Paul sent me, worked out just fine. He learned quickly and was a hard worker."

Ava got out of bed, stood on tip-toe and raised her arms upward in a back-arching stretch, groaning with the effort. She had on no sexy lingerie - just plain, flannel pajamas, and yet they did little to conceal the undeniably feminine figure beneath.

"Geoff was with me for two years. Being a painfully shy fellow, he didn't provide much in the way of companionship, but he did get the job done - and done well." Ava crossed the room to where I was. Putting her hands on my shoulders, she looked into my eyes with a disconcerting directness. "After a while, though, I ran into the same problem with Geoff that I expect I'll have with you before long."

"Problem? What's wrong?"

Ava chuckled and, with a surprisingly intimate gesture, she placed her hand on the side of my face. "Talent, hon," she chuckled again. "You're too capable to remain an apprentice for very long. I'm pretty sure you're ready to handle assignments of your own right now. I just wanted to ease you into it so the transition wouldn't be too jarring. When you're starting out on your own, those tight deadlines can be panic inducing. I figured it would be easier if you first encountered that while you're still here, so that I can provide backup in case you get into a jam."

"While I'm still here?" I repeated stupidly. "Does that mean... " I felt a physical pang at the thought that I might be leaving soon. I'd been so happy with our arrangement... so fond of Ava...

"We'll talk about that later. I seem to have wandered from my initial point, though, which was how much I've enjoyed having you here. As I said before, freelancing is lonesome work. I used to spend some of my spare time with Paul. He never seemed to give a damn about my color and he was a lot of fun to be around. Smart, funny, thoughtful. But after he got married, it became clear that his wife wasn't crazy about him spending so much time with another female."

"I'd actually gotten used to being on my own, again," Ava continued, "until you got here." She absent-mindedly brushed my hair back behind my ear with her fingers. "I'd become so wrapped up in my work, that I hadn't realized how lonely I was."

"I don't mean to harp on this and I hope I don't sound whiny, but when you're a negro working in a business where everyone else is white, you're always wondering where you stand... how you fit in. Sometimes it's just a feeling in the back of your mind, other times it's very much in the forefront of your thoughts. Unfortunately, to some degree, you're gonna find this out first hand. You may not be colored, but you are a woman, and the old boy's club doesn't exactly roll out the red carpet for females either."

"Since you've been here, that's all kinda faded into the background. It's been such a relief to be with someone who was at ease with me and with whom I could let my hair down too. If I haven't properly said thank you for being such a good friend, shame on me. But, I'm telling you now, it is very much appreciated."

I was momentarily at a loss for words. It was such an open, generous thing to say. How do you respond to that?

Before I could answer, Ava laughed, "That's my rambling, windy way of saying I don't give a damn about your fear of thunderstorms and don't you dare to be embarrassed on my account."

She took me in her arms and squeezed me tight. Her soft chuckle was in my ear, "You think you're the only one with fears? Get in line, sister. Get in line."

I pulled away so that I could look Ava in the eye when I asked, "Speaking of fears, what was that you said earlier about handling assignments of my own? Are you already plotting my departure?"

"Come with me." Ava took my hand and led me from her bedroom into the studio. She opened the top draw of her taboret, withdrew a stapled sheaf of papers and handed them to me, saying, "It's yours if you want it."

'It' was a script for an 8-page western comic book story.

"What do you mean, it's mine?" I wondered aloud.

"The full job... pencils, inks and letters... I think you're ready to leave the nest and fly on your own. What do you think?"

A shiver of excitement flitted through me. "I'm pretty sure I can do it, but what about you? I mean, I don't think I can get this done at the same time as I'm assisting you."

Ava's face lit with one of those luminous smiles. "If things play out the way I hope they do, I won't be needing an assistant anymore."

My excitement quickly transmogrified into a dizzying brew of fear and disappointment. This must have been evident from my expression, because Ava hurriedly assured me, "No, no, I'm definitely not trying to get rid of you. Quite the opposite."

"Here," Ava pulled her chair back from her drawing table and gestured toward it, "why don't you have a seat while I see if I can't explain my harebrained scheme. Keep in mind," she cautioned with a wag of her forefinger, "this whole thing is dependent upon a number of 'ifs'. Ready?"

I nodded my assent.


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Re: The Vault Porn Writers' Guild
« Reply #310 on: Jul 24, 2011, 08:45:47 PM »
So I started to write this, but it was a while ago....and I've seen been unable to continue. Lost my flow so-to-speak. Thought maybe you guys would either like to carry it on or contribute some ideas...? :)

The sharp buzz of the doorbell woke her from her daydream. She checked herself in the mirror one last time, adjusting the bulge of the strap-on in her jeans before going to open the door. Heart thumping with anticipation, she took a deep breath and opened up.

Jessica stood in the porch, clad in a figure hugging red dress that clung in all the right places and pair of killer heels that made Charlotte’s breath catch in her throat. “Hey baby, aren’t you gonna invite me in?” Jessica practically purred as she offered her hand. “Uh, sorry…come on in out of the cold…”

Jessica walked in like she owned the place, heading straight for the living room, whilst Charlotte obediently followed behind, taking in the way her dress clung to the curve of her hips and her arse, and then heading lower to Jessica’s perfect calves. Charlotte could feel her internal cock hardening, and she licked her lips, desperately wanting to run her tongue up those long legs.

Jessica reached the sofa and sat down, crossing her legs. “You look like a deer caught in headlights” Jessica said laughing at Charlotte’s attempts to disguise the fact that she staring, dumb-struck at the spot where Jessica’s dress has ridden up. “Come sit down next to me sweetheart, and relax, I’m not going to eat you”. She pulled Charlotte down next to her and, cupping her cock whispered “I can’t wait to see what you’re hiding in here…”

Next thing Charlotte knew was Jessica straddling her lap and pressing her lips against her, her tongue exploring the inside of her mouth.  Suddenly, as if she’d just woken up, Charlotte found her  feet and kissed Jessica back, allowing her hands to roam over the taught muscles of her thighs and arse. She licked a path along Jessica’s jaw and neck, breathing in the scent of her perfume and was rewarded with a small moan in her ear.


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Re: The Vault Porn Writers' Guild
« Reply #311 on: Aug 18, 2011, 09:46:37 AM »
The Airfield

It was a dismal, dreary, drizzly day. There I was queuing to pay for stuff that was just a necessity. All of a sudden I felt a body brush up behind me. A voice whispered in my ear,

"Pay for your things and then follow me out to the car."

I recognised her voice but I knew I shouldn't turn around and look. How did she know I was here?
I paid nervously and noticed my hand was shaking a little as I handed the money over. I walked out of the supermarket wondering what she had in store for me, loking for her car. Finally I found it and threw my bags in the back seat and got in the front seat next to her. As I put my seat belt on she sped off and said,
"Don't say anything."

I kept quiet and watched the scenery change from shops and busy roads to fields and trees. We seemed to travel for ages along long, winding country roads and all the time she didn't say a word, just looked straight ahead, as if I wasn't even there.

The sun was setting the light was just starting to dim. All of a sudden we pulled into what looked like an airfield, albeit a very quiet, empty looking one. I could just make out a house with a light on at the edge of the derelict site.

She slowed down and stopped.
"Get out and stand by the car."
I got out and waited for her. My mouth was dry now and inside I was beginning to panic, not knowing what was coming next.
She pulled a bag out of the boot of the car and slung it on the floor.
"Strip now, bitch"

I looked at her in disbelief. It was freezing. There was a drizzly rain in the air. I knew it wouldn't do me any good to argue.

I stripped slowly and deliberately for her, not taking my eyes off hers. I felt her gaze wander over my body. I tried to stand straight and still for her but it was so cold. I just wanted to huddle. I felt my nipples harden against the cold breeze.
"On your hands and knees girl."

I dropped to my knees, feeling the cold concrete underneath me against my hands and knees.
She came up behind me and fastened the collar around my neck.
"You are mine and you will do as I say, understand?"
"Yes Miss, I understand."
I gulped. I felt the sweat start to gether on my forehaed, despite the coldness.
She attached a cold, heavy, chain to the collar and left it resting on my back. I could feel the goosebumps forming on my body.
A sudden jerk on the chain,
"crawl for me, you dirty little slut!"

I started to crawl for her. She was pulling against the collar hard. I ahd to crawl fatser to keep up. I crawled to the other end of the airfield like this, for her. My knees were sore and scratched and my hands were numb with the cold.
"Good girl, kneel up for me."
I knelt up for her but looked down at the floor.

She reached down and stroked my face. I was so pleased to have that gentle, warm touch and then...
I heard myslef cry out as she grabbed my hair and shoved me down onto the ground again. Now I was lying face down on the cold concrete.
I daren't look up. I heard her fussing around with something. Then I felt it. No warning. I didn't even know what it was. just that the first blow was hard and mean.

"Don't you dare move, do you hear me? You be a good girl and stay very still. You need reminding just who you belong to, little girl and after today, you won't forget."

Then it came, a torrent of blows, over and over again, stinging in the cold, making me sore and tender for her. I tried to squirm but she just pulled hard on my lead, keeping me in place.
"Now, now little one, this is for your own good. Mistress is going to mark you good and hard, so you don't forget who you belong to. From now on you will always have my marks on you. Do you understand?"
"Yes Miss," I sobbed.

Still the blows came reigning down. I could feel myself drifting off until the pain became distant,  while I floated and then back I came again and felt the stings of her blows.
"You belong to me and only me and you will not have any physical contact with anyone else unless it's under my instruction. Do you understand?"
"Yes Miss," I whispered.
"I can't hear you girl."
"Yes Miss," I said with all the might I could muster.
"Turn over girl"

I rolled over and felt the blows now reigning across my breasts, belly and the tops of my legs.
Finally, it stopped.

She parted my legs and I watched as she pulled the clear latex glove onto her hand and applied some lube.
First, just one finger, slowly and deliberately and then two more. She bit down into my breast hard whilst she pounded inside me. The sting of the bite made me even wetter than I was already and I started to grind my hips into her hand, riding her fast. Then I felt her fist slowly pushing deep inside me.
"Open your legs wider girl"
I opened my legs as wide as i could.
"This is my cunt girl and you will open your legs for me whenever I want you."
I nodded and whispered, "Yes Miss"
I felt her filling me up, making me hers and then finally her thumb moved across my swollen clit, teasing and probing.

"Please Miss, may I come?" I asked.
"Not yet girl, just wait until I say."
I concentrated hard on not coming, thought about the cold, the shopping in the car, anything, until I thought I was going to explode.
"Now girl, come for me now."

I finally let myself go, crying out her name, floating on the sheer pleasure of being allowed to come for her, until I lay there limp and spent.

She pulled me close to her and held me sobbing in her arms, stroking my hair.
"Good girl. You know you belong to me don't you?"
"Yes Miss, I belong to you."

After what seemed like forever, she told me to get on my hands and knees again.
"See that house over there? We are going there now. You will remain naked. When we get there I will bathe you and put cream on your welts and then you will serve me in front of the guests, on your knees. Some of your friends will be there too. If you're very good, I will allow you free time to do as you wish with."
"Thank you Miss."

I was too exhausted to argue. I was hers. She was pleased with me. That was all that mattered.

Offline rebelsoul

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Re: The Vault Porn Writers' Guild
« Reply #312 on: Aug 18, 2011, 06:16:16 PM »
nice ;) i wanna go to the dinner party.... ;D


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« Reply #313 on: Aug 18, 2011, 07:18:04 PM »
.^ Your invite is in the post ;-)

Offline Sprock_ette

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Re: The Vault Porn Writers' Guild
« Reply #314 on: Sep 26, 2011, 02:25:48 AM »
Wow. I have so been wasting my time watching porno. It's vault porn writers' guild for me from now on! 
OMG! I'm totally going to Hell for that!