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Been a while since I wrote a narrative. I'm quite fond of this one.
I light my cigarette, and I reach out to switch the halogen off. You step over the sliding door's threshold on socked feet, and you turn off the lights from where you are.
And you drop to your knees.
You crawl.
I breathe out plumes of blue smoke, watching them spread out to wreathe the rain and the flickering neon. Your voice meets my ear, small, adorable.
"How can I please you, Sir?"
I pat my thigh; you crawl, aware that your knees are getting dirtier, that your palms are; and your dirty hands aren't going on my cock, but that's alright-- you have other holes for me to use. And oh, I am going to.
Disclaimer: This is made for 18 by 18 writers and performers. This is a fantasy, and any resemblance to living or dead persons, events, places, or products is purely coincidental.
Improvisation is encouraged - to change/add/remove lines is perfectly fine - and SFX is not present in the slightest, unless you choose to add any, in which case it is entirely up to you.
Aftercare, as necessary.
Want to read more or hear more from me? 💥
~ Grok
Or want to tell me what you think, privately? Anonymous Feedback Form
Note: Pastegasm is in alpha and as such some features don't quite work yet, but I'll be uploading all previous scripts to it.
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- 3 years ago
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