Plundering knew no bounds under pretext of war. Every piece of gold was torn from the beautiful bodies of the lovely lasses. Tisha was tired and could not even resist when that anti-social element raped her before cutting off her jugular vein and plundering the neckpiece! But that Kid hidden in the attic did! The Atlantic War had manufactured use and throw humans! Exactly thirty years later that man stood on the bridge kissing the neckpiece before breaking into sobs, for now he had gifted the plunderer a blissful sleep deep within the river. Crime breeds Revenge; Compassion breeds compassion!
Anaida’s father trusted Raghav, his best employee and his would be son-in-law beyond boundaries. Poor old fashioned gentleman, little did he know politeness is deception in pretty packaging. The best part was even Anaida fell for his knight in shining armour feats. Raghav winced !he had tried to convince her to come to the hill top for a romantic date for without this his plan would be ruined. She had either sensed something or was very lucky. This time he had hired professionals,for every fairy tale needed a good old fashioned villian. She arrived unaware of what was waiting. They were there hand in hand at the edge on the peak looking down 2000 ft and suddenly the two well built men surfaced and followed his orders. Her screams were unanswered, She pleaded he laughed and finally one push and she fell shrinking to a dot. He chuckled “silly girl afraid of bungee jumping. See now she will get addicted to the sport”. The professional trainers nodded in accent.
Not in his wildest dreams Tejas could have done this. With the big fat Indian wedding round the corner, this was his first time.
A chill ran down his spine at the sight of the shapely well toned blond and her box of equipment. Pleasure was forever hidden in pain, he winced.
“Let’s get started” tone husky, voice raspy , perfect heat. He winced with her every stroke and slouched exhausted by the time the ordeal was over.
His chest ached sweetly , but the waxing of chest was needed to wear the topless indian wedding attire for men , the dothi. What did you think?
Challenge Prompt – 2: The title is the challenge prompt. Thanks Bobby for the prompt and this ones for you 🙂
Mihika’s feeling of inconvenience and emotional tension had built up gradually in the past weeks. Amar’s growing intimacy with the third new entrant, Kiara in their happy live in nest made her uncomfortable, but there was no way to express it. Amar spent every moment awake with Kiara and she was not going out anywhere to lend Mihika the few stolen moments .
Amar constantly checked upon Kiara and has cute conversations with her. Mihika had tried dressing up, cozying , pleasing his taste buds but all went vain. Nothing could gain her that extra time or lengthy romantic looks she longed.
” Two is Company; Three is Crowd indeed ” she muttered,
” Such is the bond between fathers and their darling little daughters” Amar Chuckled.
Mihika’s coy looks met Amar’s intent gaze and as their lips met, Kiara’s loud cry was heard from the nursery.
“There he runs again”, said an exasperated Kiara…..
This one is for the challange prompt by Laavanya…..
The stress increased progressively. The hours of working went up gradually from 12 to 18. Rest was passe she said. Guarding ourselves as a group in the era of apocalypse included eliminating a weak kin for the end was more gruesome in the hands of the enemies. The standards extended to such extent that the mating pairs were pre decided , survivable offspring.
“She sets standards, that the rest of us normal mortals find hard to live with”
For the queen Bee had to strengthen the hive with the rate of extinction the bees faced. Save bees, stop their extinction.
They were trained not from birth but from the womb. There was no technology or combat they were novice. Arjun lead them, king of all arts. Neena the swiftest and best in combat team, longed him. There were situations that required informal punishments, swift justice. Arjun winced at his bane to be used as a boon, his claws shined in the moonlight. But this was confusing, a suspected social offender has been attacked by a wolf last night and it was not him. He was on vigil, the footsteps that were familiar yet not his ended abruptly outside this window.
He waited, they were always swift. When he saw that slim agile thing that jumped out of the patio window he picked pace. Quickly captured, a look at the claws glistening in moonlight, he froze. “If not in a pack shall we hunt as a duo? “ Neena asked playfully!
Ritvik was in the majority. Son of a middle class banker but extremely quick witted. Seema the foolish rich lass was an easy target to entangle in his venomous trap called love. Finishing her wasn’t either difficult thanks to her bipolar disorder. Overdosing her and later cutting her 3 nerves under Palm was a convenient suicide.Bequethed with a grieving rich widower badge turning into an eligible bachelor was easy.
As planned Sera joined as his secretary marrying him after a careful year. All went well till Rita was born. Doctors were surprised that she had the same cut marks.If this was to be coincidence, Ritvik started complaining her eyes following him constantly and hearing her sinister laugh all time.
He was diagnosed with depression soon.
karma works for free mister…..
I lacked the tact my mother was bequeathed with. Looks were an asset in this business but tact decided if you got the cream. She could make a band of men follow her just by looking at them coyly and pouting her lips seductively. She oozed sensuality. I trained myself to imitate her; for this was our livelihood . But nervousness crept in as this was my first time .The tall, muscular guy in the bar looks tempting though. “Can you get me a drink” I sing, in the usual sultry seductive tone. He looks up and smiles. Clean shave, branded clothes, expensive boots and tight jugular veins. It would be a treat to savor till the last drop of his blood. Then before sunlight I can happily get into the hidden coffin and sleep all tomorrow.
This post is a humble attempt to write on a story prompt, all under 100 words. An attempt to channelize the non tamable, strong and seductive imagination skills to work within a periphery. Check out if my story telling skills in shackles are as interesting as a free hit!!!
Bedazzled was the word, he emptied pockets to own that piece. It never failed to impress his acquaintances. All was well, until one evening he noticed something strange, one of the three men looked sideways. He blamed it on the cheap wine. Sky fell on Friday when he noticed the umbrella in the painting held opened. He sat fixed at the piece the whole day. He was going crazy. Idea! He took his mobile and clicked proof. Seconds later he stood in a gloomy endless road, his room on the other side of the glass. He waited to be clicked.
Celebrations adorned Minister’s house on his birthday
A honest gentleman. But I wanted to do this not on motive. The fun to see it happen was priceless.
Sneaking amidst hundreds of thronging supports is not easy. Bringing the equipment undetected
I would wait for cutting the cake. Poor man, deserved a few moments of happiness before my golden moment.
Here he comes clad all white. No one noticed me moving closer.
Cake cut, song sung, then BANG!!!! Red flowered on the white shirt. Many loud gasps……..
Minister laughed aloud being hit by a paintball by his grandson. What a treat?