The “UpSide” of Being Sick

I had to check my phone to see what day it is, this happens when I am sick. On the plus side it is not Saturday, which means I have not been sick that long and I am feeling better. Not great, but an improvement over yesterday. The negative side, the voices have left my head preferably for the safer grounds of where I am not sick. The voices being the characters I write about. They will return…when I am healthier.

Laying in bed reading, being sick, and watching copious amounts of Bourdain I wonder if there is any benefit, to me, in getting sick from time to time. The immediate answer is no. For the two to three days I tend to stay sick, my productivity drops to something that most people would recognize as “normal.” I don’t like the inactivity enforced upon me, I am an active person who prides himself of doing lots of stuff with his time. Lying in bed watching TV is not one of those things…unless sick.

I did hit upon a few good things, I get lots of sleep. In fact over the last two days I have slept more than I tend to sleep in four days. I don’t sleep a lot. I go to bed late and get up early. As long as the pattern is maintained I do not suffer, when the scheduled gets tossed into the dumpster then I pay for it. So I have gotten lots of sleep.

I get to read. That may sound odd, I read every day, but when sick I marathon read. By my bed is a stack of books, on a variety of different subjects and genres, the stack varies from 3 to 10 books. I read through them over a period of time, adding to the stack frequently. When sick, such as now, I burn through the books. Over the past 24 hours I have finished two books. These were not great works, crap books in fact, you know the science fiction or whatever genre that are pumped out in mass by writers who’s only talent is the ability to put some words together using someone else’s ideas. I used crap books to break up the bigger books. When sick, however, I devour the crap books they take my mind off being sick and that is the joy of a good crap book.

I get time off from being a parent. I know no parent ever stops being a parent, but if you have kids you know there are times when someone else steps up and does all of the parenting, those moments are golden. Unfortunately, I have to get sick. I have spent the last 10 years raising our children to be as self-sufficient as they can. This is why. While Barb is at work and I am sick the kids need to be able to get their own food without asking me if it is okay. They need to be able to bathe on their own, clean, and if necessary cook (warm up) using the microwave.

Finally, I get toys or in this case a toy. Barb knowing my love for Stikbots bought me a new one while she was getting medication I needed.

Sick Erotica…I Mean, I’m Sick & A Piece of Erotica

Please pardon the absence of anything remotely organized or resembling stories I am working on. Several disease vectors finally nailed me and I am sick. A regimen of vitamin C, hellbroth ramen (that is ramen loaded with gochujang), water, and sinus drugs has me out of sorts…okay the sinus funk has me out of sorts those other things are symptom treaters and comfort food.

Until I get better or at least the headache dies down enough that lights don’t hurt me eyes, enjoy this piece of erotica from several years ago that…well you be the judge. Back to bed for me.

Vampire Dick

She felt euphoric, filled, and wanting at the same time. Andrea reached out in the dark grasping a rigid cock and began stroking. She would have begged the owner of the cock to fuck her, except that a thick cock occupied her mouth, fucking her throat. Another long cock fucked her pussy banging painfully against her cervix every few thrusts and Andrea wanted more. The cock in her mouth swelled larger; a moment later, her mouth filled with his salty semen. She swallowed as fast as she could even as the cock hit the back of her throat causing her to gag and stayed there blocking off air. Her eyes watered, she started to panic, but could not move, hands held her head against his crotch and other hands held her hips down as the long cock fucked away.

Before she thought she was going to pass out the cock pulled out. Andrea took huge gulps of air, before a hand grabbed her throat closing off the oxygen and yanking her off the long cock. Pulled by her throat Andrea was forced onto a man; she only got a brief glimpse of him and his enormous cock before her pussy was split open as the cock forced its way into her. She wimped as the cock pushed her pussy lips apart, filling her cunt up. The hand on her throat let up, only to pull her mouth onto another cock that resumed fucking her mouth where the last one left off. Andrea felt a cock poking her asshole. With a thrust that caused her to gasp the cock forced its way into her ass joining in rhythm the cock in her pussy.

An hour later, Andrea lay on the floor of the basement. Her face, tits, pussy, and ass covered in cum. Her jaw hurt. Her ass hurt. Her pussy hurt. Yet, she wanted more. Needed more. She had no control over this desire of hers even as her body was beyond moving. A shadow crossed her face, more she thought, opening her cum crusted eyes and saw a giant purple, veiny, and throbbing cock attached to well-muscled man. The cock looked angry. The cock radiated sex and anger. Andrea shivered with lust at the thought of every orifice being fucked to death by that cock. The man squatted over her face, resting his balls on her forehead.

“You may cum now, my pet,” he whispered.

The orgasm took Andrea by force; her toes and legs cramped up, her throat raw from the fucking hurt more as she roared with orgasm, she squirted sending a stream across the floor before more ran down her cum leaking crotch onto the floor, finally she curled into a ball shaking with relief. He grabbed her ankles, pulled her legs apart, and pulled her over to him. Her throbbing and aching cunt against the tip of his cock. Just the tip resting against her pussy sent waves of pleasure through her.

“You did this because I commanded you to. You will do more. You are mine,” he whispered as he drove his cock into her.

Andrea screamed in lust and pain. His cock hurt, she thought she was being stabbed, and at the same time it was the best cock she had ever had inside her. Through the orgasm haze and cum covered eyes she watched as his face went from white to healthy pink.

“I have finished feeding. Clean yourself up and return three days from now.”


Three days could not pass fast enough and every passing moment the hunger grew inside of her. By the time she arrived at his bar she was salivating with lust; her pussy dripped, she didn’t bother with panties. Andrea passed the bouncer without a glance from him. As usual, college-age people packed the bar. Most stood at the bar or around the tables drinking, smoking, and talking. A few danced, mostly women to whatever popular pop-tune. Andrea paid them no mind, scanning the bar for Jon.

A strong arm wrapped around her waist and effortlessly pulled her backward into a hard chest. Soft lips kissed her neck. Sharp teeth nipped her neck playfully. He pulled Andrea back a few steps into the corner darkness of the bar, his free hand underneath her skirt parting her sopping lips with ease.

“Naughty girl,” he chuckled into her ear.

While he kissed her neck and ear, he parted her legs with the hand between her legs and rapidly plunged two fingers into her pussy. Andrea gasped in pleasure from the attention to her neck and his attentions to her pussy. She felt his cock pressing against her ass and she wanted that cock inside of her. Jon had other ideas, a sharp bite on her neck followed by sucking sent Andrea into a euphoric state. At the same time, he vigorously finger fucked her pussy until she squirted over his hand. He held her upright the entire time. Weak kneed he spun her around to face him; she could not avert his gaze.

His hand went under her shirt and with a tug he dropped her bra to the floor and kicked it aside. His hands went up her shirt grasping her tits, his fingers pinching her already erect nipples. His penetrating gaze demanded her complete attention.

“You will sit in our booth enjoying the music and people. You will entertain anyone who sits at the booth with you and asks how is your cat. The entire time you are with them you will behave as if you are with me.”

He broke the gaze.

“I have to attend to the bar.”

“I’ll wait for you in our booth,” Andrea said.

“I will stop by when I have a moment,” Jon said as he went to the bar.

Andrea walked across the bar to their booth in a darkened corner of the bar. A drink and platter of snack food was waiting for her.


Puddles and Whiskers, Other Lines of Inquiry


Other Lines of Inquiry

Thinking about Chuck’s word puzzle Whiskers thought about other ways to find the doctor. Swiping a claw across the windshield display, Whiskers pushed the data to a corner, and found the city information services search bar. Milliseconds after sending the request the windshield filled with new files. Looking at the wealth of data Whiskers was excited for a brief moment, then the scale of the data search his ears folded down, a long night ahead.

“Directions,” he said to his car.

“Destination?” the car responded.

“Nearest open coffee shop. Auto drive.”

“Gallon O Cafe, three blocks away, estimated arrival, ten minutes.”

“Thank you,” he said to the car, not that he needed to, but manners mattered.

While the car lifted off and maneuvered through the parking garage, Whiskers resumed sorting the files. Personal data stayed in the center of the windshield, family information to the right, and business, school, and licensing to the left. With three “reasonable” stacks of data, Whiskers opened his personal data file.

  • Doctor Epsan Mill, recent graduate from Stroud Medical, address on file matched address Whiskers was watching, and two contact numbers.

Returning to the city information system window, Whiskers entered both numbers; one personal and one business. He dialed the personal number, no way the Doctor would answer.

“Hello?” a male voice said questioningly.

“Hello, is this Doctor Mill?” Whisker asked enthusiastically.

“Yes, who is this?”

“This is,” Whisker thought fast, “CAH Augments and if you have a few moments I would like to discuss our new line of augmented hands and forearms.”

Whiskers listened for any background noises or identifying features while the Doctor responded.

“Uh…” The Doctor stalled.

“Is this a bad time?” Whiskers interjected.

“Yes, yes this is a bad time,” Doctor Mill jumped for the offered lifeline. “My, uh office, is being remodeled, can we…”

“I am in town for the next few days,” Whiskers offered another lifeline hoping Doctor Mill would take the bait, “perhaps we could schedule a face-to-face meeting over dinner?”

“That would be great,” Doctor Mill responded enthusiastically. “Can I call you…”

“Can my secretary reach you at this number?” Whiskers jumped in.

“Yes she can.”

“I will have my secretary contact you tomorrow with some times.”

“That would be great.”

“Thank you Doctor Mill, I look forward to seeing you in a few days. Have a good night.”

“Thank you.”

Elated, Whiskers disconnected the line and let out a whoop of joy. Several people walking past looked his way before entering the Gallon O Cafe shop. Swiping the files into a save bin, Whiskers sent the files as a backup to their office. Windshield clean and proud of the work, Whiskers sat back for a moment. Next step, get his “secretary,” Puddles was going to get mad about that, to contact Doctor Mill. Amused at the thought of Puddles as secretary Whiskers sent her and Chuck a text.

[Found the doctor.]

[Excellent] Puddles responded.

[That’s great!] Chuck responded.

[Still watching at bar.] Puddles sent.

[End surveillance in a few minutes and meet me at Gallon O Cafe.]

Puddles and Whiskers, Have A Seat


Have A Seat

Peeking over the edge Chuck looked down on two Red Hands banging on the doctor’s door. The larger Red Hand cocked his augmented fist, punching a large hole in the door. Both of them laughed at the hole, Chuck shuddered. Laughing the entire time the Red Hands punched several more holes in the door before tossing the door to the side. The Red Hands walked into the office where Chuck could not hear their conversation. Based on how fast they left and ran down the alleyway his guess was problem. Chuck sent a vid of the Red Hands to Whiskers.

[We have a problem.] He texted.

[Apparently. Follow them.]

Chuck dropped into the alley, making his way to his car. The Red Hands bikes roared down the road racing past Chuck as he reached his car. Following them was easier than he expected, they rode in a straight line to a bar. Chuck circled the block, parking on a side street, cuing the vid-feed on his windshield he called Whiskers.

“They stopped at a biker bar. I’m not dressed to go in.”

“Understand,” Whiskers replied, distractedly. “Puddles should be to you in a few minutes. Together you can…”


“Sorry I found more information that may assist us in finding the doctor.”

“As I was saying, hopefully Twist is at the bar. Puddles should be able to blend in.”

Chuck watched a large cluster of wageslaves from a nearby factory walk by.

“I have an idea. I will contact you later,” he said in a rush, disconnecting the feed and exiting his car.

The wageslaves oblivious of Chuck walking closely behind them, chatted away about work, bosses, wages, and their desperate need to get some beer and food into them before returning to work. As Chuck hoped, they walked to the bar and entered without hesitation. While the wageslaves pulled several tables together, Chuck found himself a table with a good view of the entire bar. Pulling the holo-menu up, Chuck looked busy while looking for the two Red Hands. The wageslaves creating the best distraction possible with their numbers, obtuseness, and massive order.

[Where are you.] Puddles texted.

[I have a table in the bar. Want me to order you something.]

[There in a sec. Starving.]

Not finding noodles, Chuck input an order for drinks and wings. Between the large wageslaves, he followed in and several other businesses, the bar was packed full. A knot of Red Hands sat glowering at everyone in a darkened corner of the bar. Unfortunately, from Chuck’s position he could not tell if the two he was following were among them.

A battered serv-o droid with red hands, slammed drinks in front of Chuck, splashing him. A platter of wings nearly flew across the table as the droid seemed to try to skip the platter onto the table. Before Chuck could ask for anything the droid rolled away on one wheel, slamming drinks onto tables along the way.

“What is that things problem?” Puddles asked as she sat down.

“I’d be the same way if I worked here,” Chuck responded as he wiped beer off him and the table.

“True. Where are they?”

“I think over there,” Chuck indicated with a nod and ear point.


“Its the only thing that looked safe.”


“They should fry these things enough to kill anything harmful.”

“Makes sense. Let’s eat and watch. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

Puddles and Whiskers, The Long Watch


The Long Watch

[I’m bored.]

[Part of the job.]

[Three hours of nothing.]


[Watch this vid, you’ll love it.]

[I think you meant Puddles would love that vid. Nothing?]

[You didn’t like the cute finsi’s? Other than some Red Hand initiates and homeless.]

Looking down from his observation post, three stories above the alley, Chuck wished for the hundredth time, that the doctor would be strolling to his office without a care in the world. Chuck would leap down behind him and with a deft move or two subdue the doc, call Whiskers, and two hours later have the information, complete the case, be a hero, and eat some noodles. Instead, the same garbage, the same large rats, and foul odors. Bling.

Checking his phone a reply from Whiskers, [How many Red Hands?]

Mentally counting, [Five. Why?]

[I have an idea, if your stakeout does not pan out.]

[Do you want me to follow the next Red Hands?]

[I will let you know.]

Chuck rested his back against the wall, pulled his tail close to him to avoid any of the unidentified pools of liquid, and tapped his favorite word game. A few swipes later, Chuck was trying to remember how to spell door in gromathi.

Across the city, sitting in his car at the edge of the 100th floor of a parking garage with an excellent view of the doctor’s carport, Whiskers thought, planned, and flipped through the data Chuck recovered from the doctor’s office. On his windshield, three zones, in the center the master file, to the left information to research in detail, to the right junk. Another swipe to the right and another sigh, too much junk in the file; did the doctor need to keep everything?

Tapping the upper right corner with a claw, Whiskers pulled a live feed window down over the junk. He watched various vehicles fly past the doctors carport before touching the feed and using his claw to adjust the view; nothing new with the doctor’s residence. Sighing, he reset the alarm, and pushed the live feed window to the upper right corner. Taking a long drink from his coffee, Whiskers thought about the potential dangers of following Red Hands.

[The letter word using the letters A, I, L, N, S.]

Whiskers opened a new file, invoices for replacement augment hands; based on the amount and number of entries, the doctor did a lot more surgeries for the Red Hands than expected.

[Begins with A, I, or L.]

Ignoring Chuck’s texts Whiskers continued to read the invoice file; three manufacturers, seven different styles of hands, and a range of prices. The doctor had quite the business in hands. The latest invoice due in three days. Swirling his coffee cup around, Whiskers wondered if there was a way to use the information to find the doctor.

[Found it. What are you doing over there?]

[Not playing a game.]

[I’m bored and it smells.]

[I want you to follow the next Red Hands.]

[Will do.]

The live feed window flashed red twice before Whisker noticed. Pulling the window down, he reversed the feed hoping to see the doctor arrive home. A delivery truck stopped at the carport for a few seconds before entering traffic and driving off. Whiskers resumed the live feed and went back to reading.


Gaming, Painting, Grilling Oh My!

I’m waiting for a wash to dry, otherwise I would be relaxing and recharging the batteries some more. This weekend is all about relaxing, enjoying company of friends and family, and taking the time to enjoy life. Toss in learning how to use a grill and paint. 🙂

Without a doubt the biggest thing this weekend has been not writing anything at all. I’m a big fan of taking time off from writing, not weeks, just a couple of days in a row. Cease thinking about the characters and their issues and focus on me…and my issues. Biggest issue I run into is rushing a story to the “end” instead of taking the time to allow the story to grow. This is funny to me because as a GM (Gamemaster) for over 20 years rushing a story only leads to a bad game. Yet, it has only been in the last few years that I put the connection between running a game and writing a story together.

The need to slow down is one of the reasons our weekends are usually game filled, the other reason is games are fun. This weekend was less games and more prep for future games. We did play Rise of the Goblins and while we won the scenario the die rolls pointed to a disaster if we kept playing. Which is why we put Rise of the Goblins up and played a lot of Roll For It. I know, irony, the dice in one game say bad things ahead (lots of 1’s rolled) and pick up a game that is ONLY die rolling.

Yesterday, nice transition, was all about figuring out how to get a fire to do more than flare up and die out before the food was on the grill. I love our old grill, but without the ability to move the fire away from the food burning happened more often than not. The new grill gives me control, but new is also a learning experience. So far, grill 1.5 to me .5. The food was great, the process a pain in the butt.

In and around grilling, painting. There are four people assembling, painting, or pointing (scoring) Warhammer 40K armies out at anyone time. Crazy at times when all four are painting and assembling at one time. There is a certain rhythm like a well oiled machine when people can pass around paint, glue, offer advice, assist with assembling, and pass tools. When that rhythm hits, everyone can do what they want at the table without interruption. When the rhythm is off, a lot of sighing, groaning, and cursing; not at each other but miniatures that refuse to cooperate. Yes, miniatures can refuse to cooperate; glue won’t adhere, paint rubs off, or the dreaded miniature makes a break for it by breaking when it slams into the floor. Miniatures should not try to escape.

Overall, a good weekend of relaxing and doing “stuff.” Tomorrow back to writing, Puddles and Whiskers have hammered my brain all weekend, so they get to come out and play. 🙂

Gorgeous Day

Normally there would be 480 to 1,000 + words here, but today as you can see is a gorgeous day and we spent and are spending are day outside. Trips here and there, walking outside where we could. Now home, we prepare to grill and spend more time outside before Michigan decides to changes it’s mind back to freezing temperatures. Hopefully you enjoyed your day. 🙂