Category: Stichomancy Prompts

The Reedy Voice Below

  • by Kentsqueezing in your fingers
  • consensual sexual activity
  • torn out of a magazine
  • loosening with the summer humidity
  • Or about butts.

Tune in next time part 260                           Click Here for Earlier Installments

The reedy voice below me said, “A pregnant wife is for pampering and worshipping, just as an enemy’s throat is for squeezing in your fingers. Her gravid belly should cause no reduction in consensual sexual activity between the sheets of the marital bed.”

The woman laughed. “You talk like real husband material. Where have you been all my life?”

Jason’s lisp came on stronger, which meant he was angry. “He’s just spouting silly nonsense torn out of a magazine. Don’t get distracted. Focus on the mission.”

But other two both laughed over his sibilant tirade. The next bit spoken was indistinct, until the male voice said, “… like neckties and blouse buttons loosening with the summer humidity.” This made the woman coo that he was “Such a flirt,” and Jason grumbled.

I chanced descending a few more rungs. The control room directly below me appeared to be empty, the voices carrying from some other section of the vessel. I got to the bottom of the ladder as quickly as silence would allow and started looking for a place to hide. Voices and footsteps approached from the forward section, so I darted into the aft passageway, heading toward the engine room.

“Keep in mind,” Jason was saying, “that he’s obsessed. He’s always thinking about his wasted youth at the the Academy. Or about butts. We can use that against him.”

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Down the Darkened Tunnel I Raced

  • by jenserved time in the military
  • a second peal of thunder
  • for eight and twenty miles
  • and a badass wife
  • or if she would repulse him

Tune in next time part 259                           Click Here for Earlier Installments

Down the darkened tunnel I raced, wondering if there would be a submarine in the Academy’s submarine dock. I knew how to drive a submersible even though I had never served time in the military. Behind me came the clattering of more debris, a second peal of thunder booming through the cavern to chase the echoes of the diversionary crash I had created moments ago.

I ran for eight and twenty miles, or at least that’s what it felt like, before the sound of my footsteps changed and I knew I was in a large open area. The sub dock. Murky red light filtered up through the water from the submarine that lurked just below the surface. As I caught my breath I let my eyes adjust to the faint, bloody illumination and was able to trace out the contours of the conning tower where it jutted from the water.

Before I had time to think better of it, I crept across the gangway and lowered myself silently down the ladder into the heart of the submarine. I immediately heard voices, so I froze halfway down the ladder to listen.

“He’s got a scary father-in-law and a badass wife,” a reedy male voice said.

“Her name’s Fleur, right?” said a woman. “That Contrarian noble?”

They were talking about me.

“She’s extremely pregnant right now,” said a third voice, this one with a familiar lisp. “Due any day. I wonder if he’d still think she’s hot or if she would repulse him.” It was Jason, I had no doubt.

I couldn’t stay where I was, perched awkwardly on the rungs of a metal ladder. Mere feet below me were Jason and two of his compatriots. There was no way I could slip past them. But if I exited the sub, I would no doubt run right into Betsy and Fernando, and possibly Tessa and who knows who else. That racket they’d raised might attract everyone at the Academy.

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“Show Me What You Can Do”

  • by Kent“Up inside there?”
  • expensive adulterous affairs
  • simply too much debris
  • including 6 pairs of shoes
  • on such gleaming skin

Tune in next time part 258                           Click Here for Earlier Installments

“Show me what you can do,” Betsy Murgatroid cooed. “Go on, I know you have something more for me. You know what to do. Can you do it? Can you give me your special gift?” She batted her lashes. “Up inside there?”

I had mixed feelings about my circumstances. I was skeptical about these claims of an exotic compound in my semen. I suspected it was part of a disinformation campaign, or maybe just Betsy’s excuse to charge expensive adulterous affairs to her Academy spending account. But it seemed wisest for now to behave as though they were true. Which was not how I was behaving.

With a final longing look at the feminine form astride mine, I summoned all my self-restraint and lifted her off of me. I scrambled to my feet as Betsy Murgatroid raised her walkie. “Fernando, please report to the other side of the subbasement, over.”

I pulled up my pants and dashed into the tunnel entrance. Fernando Heavens was right behind me, so on my way through I toppled stacks of boxes and shelving units to obstruct his progress. He crashed against the logjam, but it held, leaving him standing over Betsy’s supine form. He said into his walkie, “I cannot give chase, for there is simply too much debris, including 6 pairs of shoes made from ferret leather, polished to a mirror shine, and festooned with rabbit’s-foot tassels. And it grieves me to see such superstitious and superfluous accoutrements on such gleaming skin of the polecat.” He sobbed. “Over.”

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Whipping Out Her Walkie-Talkie

  • by jenIs that his name?
  • conducted a cascade
  • came from the heart and not from the lips
  • where the Tenth Doctor is Chandler or something, I don’t know.
  • she said she felt sorry for him

Tune in next time part 257                           Click Here for Earlier Installments

Whipping out her walkie-talkie, Betsy growled, “Stay out of this, Fernando Heavens.”

I was distracted from my libidinous release. “Fernando Heavens? Seriously? Is that his name?

“Shush.” She laid her finger over my lips. Taking up her walkie again she said, as if explaining to a child, “By now he should have ‘conducted a cascade‘ as the kids call it. His exotic compound would already be ours.”

Suddenly I was tired of all this intrigue. I longed for a coupling that came from the heart and not from the lips of shadowy spy masters.

Betsy saw the dissatisfaction on my face. She said, “Oh no you don’t. We have to finish this or we’ll both be in trouble.” She pumped her hips. “What would help? Role playing, maybe? We could act something out where I’m a horny alien who’s just met her first Time Lord — that’s you — and where the Tenth Doctor is Chandler or something, I don’t know. How complicated do you wanna make it?”

Without waiting for my response, she launched into an elaborate monologue, acting the part of alien vixen. She said she found the Doctor stranded in his malfunctioning TARDIS. She said she loved his sarcastic comebacks and floppy hair. She said she felt sorry for him because everyone else from his planet was dead, including the five friends he always got coffee with.

Her story was oddly specific and fleshed out, and the opposite of erotic, but her movements and her body kept my attention.

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My Finely Honed Instincts Were Like a Lynx

  • by Kentrendered him master of far mightier muscles than his own
  • and a chin like the toe of a boot
  • spasmodic efforts to smile
  • “Rouse yourself, my dear girl.”
  • Chinese striptease funeral

Tune in next time part 256                           Click Here for Earlier Installments

My finely honed instincts were like a lynx, but also in some ways like a rhinoceros, making me one of those people whose survival drive rendered him master of far mightier muscles than his own, even if they were still my own, and I snapped the handcuff chain. Betsy gasped in orgasmic shock. It was all I could do to continue withholding my ‘exotic compound,’ but doing so was essential to my getaway plans.

Fernando had a nose like the shell of a snail and a chin like the toe of a boot, and when he scowled, as he did now, the shell’s wrinkles followed its spiral shape. But, it wasn’t actually a scowl that he wore. His proboscis writhed in time to his spasmodic efforts to smile.

Betsy, meanwhile, was smiling effortlessly, her eyes lidded in contentment.

Fernando raised his walkie and said, “Rouse yourself, my dear girl.” He winked at me. “Over.”

She opened her eyes, a languid smile still on her lips. I nearly let my ‘exotic compound’ loose when she looked at me like that. It was past time for me to withdraw, from Betsy and this subbasement. The temptation to remain was strong, though. I hesitated.

She lifted her head and whispered in my ear, “Chinese striptease funeral.”

Suddenly, I couldn’t put a halt to our coupling. My movements accelerated involuntarily.

“Yes,” Fernando said, “do let’s try and get back on schedule.”

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Fernando’s Eyes

  • by jenthrust awkwardly into a gardening glove
  • the same position I was in
  • low relief with pubic hair
  • staring up at the ceiling with dreamy, lack-luster eyes
  • In that instant the lynx struck

Tune in next time part 255                           Click Here for Earlier Installments

Fernando’s eyes avoided my nudity by fixing themselves on his right hand which he flexed once or twice and then thrust awkwardly into a gardening glove that was too small for him. Betsy Murgatroid took that as her cue to put herself in the same position I was in, namely pantsless. Despite my discomfort at her earlier bug impression I found myself aroused, seeking that low relief, with pubic hairs, mine and hers, mingling. She smiled and made her chittering noise again while staring up at the ceiling with dreamy, lack-luster eyes. This time I found it quite erotic.

While we got down to the business of pleasure I could hear Fernando in the background, fastidiously straightening items on a workbench.

Our unusual situation reminded me of several training exercises I’d participated in at the Academy, and I could feel my finely honed instincts taking over, like a lynx stalking its prey. I didn’t know yet what my ultimate action would be, but I hoped I’d have a chance to finish what I was doing before I took it. I also hoped that Betsy wouldn’t suddenly whip out her Darts of Insanity. This was not a situation that would be improved by the feel and taste of fried chicken.

Betsy’s walkie-talkie crackled and a voice on it said, “Heavens to Murgatroid, come in Murgatroid.”

“You don’t have to use the radio, Fernando,” Betsy said. “We’re in the same room.”

The lynx was stalking closer, preparing to pounce. I turned my head and saw Fernando in the corner with his garden-gloved hand cupped secretively around his own walkie-talkie. He stuck out his tongue at me, then spoke into the radio again. “Hurry up. We’re on a mission, over.”

“I’d be done a lot quicker without you interrupting me,” she said. “And anyway, this is part of the mission. I’m supposed to get a sample of a ‘certain exotic compound.'”

In that instant the lynx struck. Unfortunately it was hampered by my handcuffs.

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“Maybe We Should Let Him Put His Pants On”

  • by Kent“Ch-ch-ch, ch-ch-ch.”
  • inside planets with inhospitable surfaces
  • the perfect setting for romance
  • despair or cunning calculation
  • her husband’s dangerous career

Tune in next time part 254                           Click Here for Earlier Installments

“Maybe we should let him put his pants on,” Fernando said.

“Hmm,” Betsy Murgatroid responded while staring at me and tapping her chin with a pale finger, making me queasy. A venomous grin stretched her cheeks. She leaned toward me and curled back her lips to say, “Ch-ch-ch, ch-ch-ch.”

The insectoid noise unsettled me. It tickled the underbellies of memories I hadn’t known I had, swollen swirls of dread like blobs of fluid inside planets with inhospitable surfaces and worse interiors. By the gleam in her eyes, I gathered she intended it as flirting, as if this dusty subbasement were the perfect setting for romance, and not a venue that demanded despair or cunning calculation of a means of escape.

Fernando had wandered to the steps, peering up toward the root cellar.

“Stay out of there,” Betsy lilted, never taking her eyes off of me. “I don’t want to have to tell your wife she was right about her husband’s dangerous career.” Fernando shuffled away from the stairs, making an obvious effort to find something other than my pantslessness to occupy his attention.

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How Droll!

  • by jen“What are you doing here, honey?”
  • mattress on the floor and bottles strewn everywhere
  • hardly high espionage drama
  • “darts of insanity”
  • feels and smells exactly like fried chicken

Tune in next time part 253                           Click Here for Earlier Installments

“How droll!” the man cried.

I remembered all too well the incident with the cliff that the woman had mentioned. The twins she referenced were Jason and myself. It had all been part of our senior class project. Our Academy had been pitted against our rival school in a sort of spy olympics. Despite the fatalities at the cliff, we had won. This woman must be one of our vanquished foes. I needed to get out of here before they discovered me, even if I was handcuffed, and naked from the waist down.

There would be time to rid myself of the cuffs later. I scuttled toward the tunnel to the submarine dock, grabbing my pants as I went.

The woman froze. I tried to lunge out of sight, but she turned around and spotted me. A bemused smile appeared on her face.

“What are you doing here, honey?” Her tone was one you would use with a lost kitten.

Her companion turned, too. “Who’s that? What’s he doing down here? Is there a mattress on the floor and bottles strewn everywhere?”

“Of course not,” the woman said. “This is hardly high espionage drama, Fernando. This is just a poor homeless man taking refuge from the cold.” She winked at me.

“In handcuffs? Really, Betsy, you’re too soft-hearted.”

Betsy? Oh shit, now I recognized her. This was Betsy Murgatroid, infamous for her use of the poisoned projectiles she invented and called “darts of insanity”. From the intelligence reports I’d read, when you’re under the influence of her drug, everything feels and smells exactly like fried chicken.

I gulped. What could make such a dangerous woman smile at me like that?

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“I Can’t Believe You Were Just Using Me”

  • by Kenton the rest of her body
  • with a cold, wet hand towel
  • proceeding with a defamation lawsuit
  • that left only two
  • his brother and he were twins

Tune in next time part 252                           Click Here for Earlier Installments

“I can’t believe you were just using me, too,” I said to Tessa. She stood over me, a sponge in her panties and glistening sweat on the rest of her body.

“Not just using you.” She located a small towel among the junk stored in the subbasement and dried herself before getting dressed.

“What did you mean about an ultimate goal? What is this exotic compound? There’s plenty more where that batch came from, by the way.” I wasn’t too proud to give seduction one last try, but I was too proud to ask her again about the handcuffs. I knew the answer already anyway.

She just hummed to herself as she put her clothes on, then crept up the steps that led to the root cellar. I shuddered.

When she was out of sight, I sat up and started getting ready to escape. There are things I enjoy less than post-coital cleanup with a cold, wet hand towel, but not many.

Betrayal, for instance. Being abandoned, in shackles, in a memory hole under our old school. I looked up, picturing the halls of the Academy, and wondered whether any of the faculty were still proceeding with a defamation lawsuit against the student government.

I set to work on the cuffs. I’d never been much good at picking locks, but the old cabinets and file drawers down here were filled with bobby pins and paperclips so I was bound to succeed eventually. The tunnel to the sub dock was behind a stack of boxes, easy to access once my hands were free.

Voices startled me, coming from that very tunnel. A man and a woman.

I squeezed under a table and pulled a crate of unclaimed diplomas in front of myself just in time. The woman was speaking as they emerged from the tunnel.

“… so we chased all the others off a cliff, and that left only two. Do you want to know the best part?”

“Naturally. Tell me everything, you vixen.”

“Those two. It turned out that his brother and he were twins.”

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As John Gladly Followed Hipster Jane

  • by jenwasn’t wearing his shoes
  • something incredibly icky was about to go down
  • online spirituality does have its limits
  • my opinion on these matters is final
  • found in high levels in semen

Tune in next time part 251                           Click Here for Earlier Installments

As John gladly followed Hipster Jane up the stairs, I noticed that he wasn’t wearing his shoes. John’s bare feet are not a sight for the faint of heart, and Hipster Jane’s foot fetish was the stuff of legends, which meant that something incredibly icky was about to go down in the root cellar. That suited my plans just fine. I’d stand a better chance with Tessa without others around confusing the matter. Step three, here we go.

“I’m glad we’re finally alone,” I said in my best husky voice.

“Me too,” Tessa said. “I’ve been trying to learn mindfulness from a YouTube guru, but online spirituality does have its limits, and I was never the best student.” Her hand fell to the knife hilt protruding from her belt.

“You were valedictorian!”

She snorted. “That’s only because I drugged the rest of you and the faculty needed someone to stand up there and give a pretty speech.”

“It was a very pretty speech.” Tessa was always a sucker for flattery from me.

My opinion on these matters is finally clear,” she said. “No matter how attractive I find you, you’re no good for me.”

“Tessa,” I pleaded. “Take these cuffs off me, or don’t, and let’s get out of here. I’ll show you how good I can be for you.” I turned my smolder up to maximum and saw her decisiveness falter.

She whispered, “The only way out of here is through the root cellar, and if we go upstairs now we’ll have to see whatever it is John and Jane are doing.” She leaned in close and ran her hand down my chest. “But maybe you can show me now and we can get out of here later.”

It really wasn’t the best plan, and I knew for a fact that there was a tunnel leading from this subbasement to the Academy’s submarine dock, but the idea of being with Tessa again after so long drove all other thoughts from my brain.

She shoved me to the floor and left the cuffs on me, but I rose to the occasion. She rode me like a woman possessed. After the climactic moment she leapt off and inserted a sponge into her underpants.

To my look of confusion she said, “A certain exotic compound is found in high levels in semen in the men in your family. When I get back to the lab, our scientists can use this sample to devise a synthetic equivalent, and we’ll finally be able to achieve our ultimate goal!” She smiled down at me, laying pantsless and handcuffed on the floor.

“Ultimate goal?” I asked, baffled.

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