This fantasy quickie is for mature readers only. It’s dedicated for everyone who’s ever had naughty thoughts about little green fairies.
“You don’t suppose it’s dead, do you?”
Dagfinn poked a nervous finger at the slender creature cradled in his father’s hand. If the old man was right, then the two of them were looking at an honest-to-Thorbjorn fairy. For all of the stories about the mischief they would enact on innocent village folk, seeing one in the flesh was underwhelming.
The fairy could sit comfortably in Dagfinn’s hand. Her head lacked ornament, but Dagfinn had no trouble imagining a crown of petals that might have once adorned it. She wore a short dress made of woven plant life and chitin, tailored without a sense of modesty. Her arms and legs were bare, and since his father had taken no time to cover the fairy up in the name of decency, Dagfinn could just make out a miniature womanhood. If she elicited any feelings in the growing Northman, all of them were coming from his groin.
This fantasy quickie is for mature readers only. It features a group of adventurers who were caught in the wrong web.
His eyes fluttered open to the cold stone roof of a cave. He found himself laying on the softest bed his back had felt in ages. Slow, turgid thoughts were snatched out of the ether by his waking mind. Where am I? A faraway drip drop of water answered his question. What happened?
Euric tried to get up, and found the answer to his second question. His arms and legs—his entire body?—were bound somehow. Try as he might, even with the strength earned by a thousand battles, he could not break free from the shackles which held him. He tried to roar in frustration, and paid for the offense in pain. His throat was parched. He could only guess how long he had gone without something to drink. The sound of water became a maddening thing.
“Don’t trouble yourself so much, morsel. Those bonds have held men stronger than you.” The warrior craned his neck to the source of the voice, and to his horror, found six shining eyes looking back at him.
This 1,000 word fantasy quickie is for mature readers only. It’s about the real reason dragons have a tendency toward fair maidens.
The journey was the most harrowing part of the whole ordeal. Dragonflight was faster than anything she had ever experienced before, in equal parts terrifying and exhilarating. As she rode on the great creature’s back, Minerva watched as the world below became less and less familiar with every blink. Trees became craggy rock, well-worn paths faded from view, and soon the bitter cold whipped at her exposed skin. After what seemed like a lifetime, the dragon landed at the mouth of a cave, peeking out from the side of a mountain.
Minerva had been trained as a dragon maid her entire adult life. To be chosen was as much a blessing as much as it was a curse. Thanks to her training, she could outfight and outlast everyone in the village, man or woman. She was strong. Lithe. On the other hand, she had to give up the notion of having a normal life. The other women would have simple lives, in warm homes with smiling children and doting husbands. But not Minerva. Because tonight she was going to show the dragon’s son why she was worthy of being its mate.
It’s a play on words, you see. This 1,000 word quickie is for mature readers only. It features a hunter and the price he must pay for hunting on sacred grounds. I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving!
Hinnerk heaved the beast off his shoulders and threw its cold corpse on the ground. Its still shining black fur seemed to suck in the color from the fiery autumn leaves it had unsettled. Its fangs dripped red from where it had tasted of the hunter’s flesh, and threads of Hinnerk’s cloak twisted in its claws. It was not an easy kill.
He slumped down against a black tree trunk. He felt the coolness of the mist for the first time. The beast had traded him blow for blow. The wounds were deep, but it was his family who would truly suffer. It would take time to recover back to proper hunting shape, and they did not have time. What little crops they had had failed. Their stores would last barely a week, let alone all winter. Perhaps the beast won after all. Lost in his own thoughts, Hinnerk almost missed the glimmer between the trees.
“I’ve restored your precious balance, Suanach,” he spat out. “Now let me take my kill and be away from your damned woods.”
This 1,000 word cyberpunk quickie is for mature readers (of the future) only. It features an alpha male, male masturbation, and one hell of an orgy.
Daishi Kaz looked at his watch as the elevator made its slow crawl skyward. He hated the nasally voices of his colleagues. They sounded so submissive, so full of excuses. They’d never have what it took to sit with people like him, at the important tables, where big things happened. Things that meant something. They’d always be below him. The power was intoxicating. The fact that his watch alone was worth more than what Ohba Taro would make in a decade turned him on.
“Taro,” Kaz intoned in his deep, practiced voice, “I don’t care how long it takes to do it. I don’t care if it’s your anniversary, I don’t care if your mother’s in the hospital, and I don’t care if you’ve got to take a shit. You’re staying late tonight and they’re going to be on my desk when I get there in the morning, or you’re going to tell your wife why you don’t have a job with the Corp anymore.”
Kaz smiled. He could practically hear the other man’s hesitation. Taro’s wife, Rina, had been cheating on him for the past year. Kaz knew this because he was the man she was blowing. Taro knew this, too. Kaz’s last Christmas card to him laid out, in detail, how he made Rina swallow his cum.
This 1,000 word fantasy quickie is for mature readers only. It features a monstrous handjob and a buxom tavern wench. (Before you ask, it’s pronounced ROW-sheen.)
Another night at the Color Animal Inn. Another blotto farmhand sneaking his grubby fingers under her dress. Another hall-to-hall brawl that she’ll have to clean up after when the sots have all passed out. Another game of “What’s That Stain?” on the way to her quarters. Oh, just another night.
Roisin sighed as she wiped the spittle off another fractured mug. She happened to catch the shattered reflections of her tired face as she held it up to the firelight. Eyes like emeralds, lips as full as the moon, and a set of tits fuller than a nursing cow’s, she thought. And where did that get you?
The Color Animal Inn was supposed to be a temporary job, something that would bring a bit of coin in while Roisin waited for her real life to start. A life that didn’t belong to a mere tavern wench. The trickle of gold entering her pockets never was able to keep up with the day-to-day expenses that took it all away. It was a long swim to shore, and Roisin could just barely keep her red curls above the water.
This 1,000 word fantasy quickie is for mature readers only. It features a rogue giving herself some self-loving and an undead lich.
“And to think I let you fools come this far.” The lich sat on its throne. Its tattered Byzantium robe trailed past the throne of skulls and into the shadows. “No matter. It will be a mistake I won’t make again. You will return everything you’ve stolen from my tomb, and I will add your bones to my collection.”
Aliaga glanced sidelong to her companions. She couldn’t bear to look at Thom or Felden in the eyes. It was her fault they were in this mess in the first place. It was an easy job, she told them. They were going to come home as rich as kings, she had said. And now we’re bound like slaves, Aliaga thought bitterly.
I’m going to get us out of this. Don’t you worry about that.