Category: Stichomancy Prompts

She Jumped At the Forbidden

  • k-avatarbright cherry fruit
  • impossibly enormous
  • whirling on the kitchen floor
  • pushed the popcorn at her
  • or jump out of the car
  • illegal glass of wine

She jumped at the forbidden, bright cherry fruit of an illegal glass of wine, laughing and swooning through the elegant dinner at Le Gourmangerie before I led her stumblingly to my convertible for the short drive to the drive-in where High School Musical 7 was showing and where I thought she might scream or jump out of the car when I pushed the popcorn at her impossibly enormous breasts, but she kept her cool and shared the buttery exploded kernels with me and asked me in after the ride to her place and soon enough we were whirling on the kitchen floor like a punctured beer can dropped by a clumsy pledge.

 

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The “Lost” Episode of Tagalong Bub

  • by jenlatent potencies later in the program
  • you got so carried away
  • ignorance of the law is no excuse, Bub.
  • a betrothal my father renounced
  • chump on the dome

The “Lost” Episode of Tagalong Bub

“You got so carried away, but ignorance of the law is no excuse, Bub,” said Pappy.

“I know that now, Pappy, and I’m terribly sorry. I feel just like a chump on the dome.”

“Oh, sonny,” said Pappy, patting Tagalong Bub on the shoulder, “don’t beat yourself up. We’ll get this all straightened out. You’ll see.”

“She’s just so awful purty, Pappy,” said Bub, as a heart-shaped thought balloon image of the cartoon’s villainess RunAmok Sal hovered over his head. “I never dreamed I’d fall in love and wind up involved in a betrothal my father renounced.”

And so it seemed that Tagalong Bub had narrowly avoided RunAmok Sal’s trap, but the love potion Sal used was complicated and revealed its latent potencies later in the program when she sneaked into Bub’s bedroom and forcibly consummated their union.

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I Think Our Troublesome Renegade

  • k-avatarthe priest tucked her in
  • profusely awkward
  • our troublesome renegade
  • display her milk-heavy udders
  • you did it up brown!
  • they are also cannibals

“I think our troublesome renegade will like this room. It should make her feel at home.”

Sheila followed Stefan into the upstairs bedroom, eager to see the redecorating. “You did it up brown!” she squealed, knowing instantly that Tarantella would indeed like it. And without any curtains, it would be profusely awkward for the horny savage to display her milk-heavy udders to Father Shultz at naptime when the priest tucked her in.

“Oh, it’s perfect,” she murmured. “Stefan, you know so much about poor ‘Tella’s people, and their preference for earthtones. They are religiously attached to somber colors.”

“They are also cannibals, so tell Shultzy to be careful.”

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“Johnny? Johnny?”

  • by jena full partner
  • still facing the lighted rectangle
  • How will she face the wrath of god?
  • hours
  • Johnny? Johnny?

“Johnny? Johnny?” Minerva becomes more convinced by the minute that brother was right. Making Johnny a full partner in this endeavor was a mistake.

It has been hours since she cast the spell, and Johnny is still facing the lighted rectangle, immobile and unspeaking.

The attempt to create an oracle failed. Minerva wonders about her fate. How will she face the wrath of god? Anubis is notoriously stubborn about holding grudges, after all.

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Professor McMurphy

  • k-avatarsuch isolating topography
  • blanched, blotched, and faded
  • a beautiful double-cube room
  • some gigantic log spinning
  • slid into the huge four poster bed
  • why in all the hells

Professor McMurphy liked to follow a carefully planned curriculum, spending the early part of the semester on simple quadratics and such, isolating topography from less demanding material. But his students showed little appreciation, showering the professor with old cabbages that were blanched, blotched, and faded. He taught Abstruse Mathematics, lecturing in a beautiful double-cube room (216 square meters, 125 seats) in a prime location (room 97). Overhead, a mobile made of aluminum numerals slowly pivoted, like some enormous exponent or some gigantic log spinning in the air. But the students didn’t care.

Kelsie was by far the worst, but Professor McMurphy couldn’t flunk her. She knew too much. Where he was ticklish, mainly. That night, as she slid into the huge four poster bed beside him, he wondered why in all the hells she didn’t share his passion for math. Then he turned his mind to other things (computing the billionth digit of Pi) and turned his body to Kelsie.

 

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The Aesthetic Accomplished by the Artist

  • by jeninsecure escapist
  • certain foundation of misery
  • witches who steal penises
  • aesthetic

“The aesthetic accomplished by the artist is a certain foundation of misery seen through the eyes of an insecure escapist,” Desmond wrote, “but why this piece is called ‘Witches Who Steal Penises‘ is beyond me.”

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They All Shared Her Grace of Posture

  • k-avatarfor verily, her breasts were like melons
  • the sitter responded with a slack-jawed grin
  • complimented Ian on his quick head
  • inwardly he didn’t feel too sympathetic
  • they all shared her grace of posture

They all shared her grace of posture, oddly, for verily her breasts were like melons. Her ass was like additional melons, a fact perhaps holding the key to the mystery of her poise.

Balance. Balance in all things, not just melons. The young twins lacked melons altogether, having yet to attain lemons, but they were balanced. When their parents went out, the twins looked forward to their sitter’s company.

“Stephanie!” enthused both youngsters. The sitter responded with a slack-jawed grin. (But a well-balanced one.)

Lurking in the bushes, two snipers shared candy. Discovering that the bag held an odd number of M&Ms, the left-most assassin placed the last chocolate morsel under a bush, for the squirrels. Keith complimented Ian on his quick head. Ian expressed poetical regret that they must make orphans of these children, but inwardly he didn’t feel too sympathetic.

 

 

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Turning Her Lips

  • by jenstill damp from the bath
  • turning her lips
  • I know he is alive
  • you do have a lovely arse
  • made use of vibrational lore
  • revel in the soft skin of the breasts

Turning her lips from a smile to a grimace, Reggie made use of vibrational lore handed down to her from her grandmother to confuse the mind of her supervisor so that she could slip out of work early Friday afternoon.

At home later, her hair still damp from the bath, Reggie turned on Maury in time to see a woman declare, “I know he is alive!”

I guess she’s talking about her baby-daddy, Reggie thought.

In the kitchen she opened the refrigerator to find an early dinner. The only thing that looked appetizing was the leftover fried chicken. She took a moment to mentally revel in the soft skin of the breasts before nuking them.

After eating, Reggie shimmied into her slinky black dress and checked her appearance in the mirror before heading out to the local pub.

“You do have a lovely arse!” she told herself happily.

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The Condition of the Sheets

  • k-avataran army of sweating mules
  • supple-looking, with iridescent lapels
  • “like a cat?”
  • a month’s rent in advance
  • the Trump Bordello
  • wearing only yachtsman’s loafers and underpants

The condition of the sheets suggested that the bed had been the scene of some great undertaking by an army of sweating mules. But the condition of Rodrigo’s attire made it clear that, if he’d had any part in those labors, he was now above such menial things and destined for a corner office. His lime-green corduroy trousers were counterpointed by a plasticine blazer in tones of orange and gold, supple-looking, with iridescent lapels. (It was surely a very stylish corner office.)

Three sharp knocks at the door. Rodrigo crossed the suite and opened the door to Faye-Wren, his confidante, his bookie, and his hired wrench. Her pillbox sat askew to the right, meaning her latest assignment had been completed successfully. The twinkle in her almond eyes meant she’d heard about Rodrigo’s exploits of the previous night. “Was she very flexible and fastidious?” Faye-Wren asked impertinently, “like a cat?”

Rodrigo responded with a lazy-eyed smile. His carnal escapades had centered on someone quite catlike, but not feminine in the least. By paying a month’s rent in advance, he got first pick of the diversions on offer at the Trump Bordello.

It was then that Faye-Wren doffed her hat, and Rodrigo saw that the gesture left her wearing only yachtsman’s loafers and underpants.

 

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I Had Been Tracking the Missing Goats

  • by jenthey sup at alien tables
  • the missing goats
  • kiss the girls
  • “Bandits — Bandits! Bandits!”
  • water-gypsies!
  • the toothed circle of a reconstructed Stonehenge

I had been tracking the missing goats for almost 24 hours, ever since my sister ran from the barn screaming, “Bandits — Bandits! Bandits!” The trail led me here, to the toothed circle of a reconstructed Stonehenge on the lonely, windy Salisbury Plain. Who could have re-erected these enormous stones in a single evening? And then the answer came to me. Water-gypsies! Harnessing their intrepid water-moose, the lovely aquatic extraterrestrials could accomplish nearly anything. I sat on the cold, damp ground and leaned my back against one of the towering sarsen stones and waited for my chance to kiss the girls from another world. As for the goats? Well, I’m afraid to say that tonight they sup at alien tables. We shan’t be seeing them again.

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