Blogger whispers, Sleek’s take

I am at the heart of what is proving to be a very exciting orgy; but honestly, what orgy isn’t? Don’t answer that…now this orgy has been going on for a while so you can imagine how worked up we all are. For those of you who have just joined us, there’s room for you somewhere at the back, next to Doggy man. He’s a singer from Tanzania. The blogger whispers so far; they have gone through the following hands:(All these are links, click to indulge.)

Part 1 with Princess; Part 2 from The Dark Knight; Part 3 at the Streetsider’s joint; Part 4 with Undiscovered and Part 5 on the Sunny Side. Part 6 with Angela. Part 7 with Heaven. Part 8 with Erique who passed the Courvoisier to me.

Thank you, Erique. Now go take your tabs, it’s five times a day remember? Use water, not beer. Well, seeing as I’m already undressed, let’s dig in:

The instructions:

1. You take the story, and give it your own unique twist.

2. Link back to the blogger who whispered to you and or include their name in your post.

3. Whisper the new challenge into the ear of a blogger of your picking.

4. Let them know by leaving a comment at theirs.

Pass it on with the instructions!

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Raymond was hunched outside the writer lady’s home. It had come to this. He had been given an hour by that sod Diablo and rather than get his balls cut off, he had to do something drastic. Occasionally, nervous laughter could be heard coming from the house. If this is what marriage was all about, Ray, as the ladies preferred to call him, didn’t want in. Heck, these people couldn’t even laugh normally. They all seemed to have something up their sleeves; the writer lady and her wild antics in bed with him, scared him the first time what with the slapping and meowing, her husband whose intimacy was reserved for some book he was working on, that boy kid and his strange ways, and then that little girl…ah, the princess. The only sane person in the family; she had enough babble for all of them.

He had to wait. She’d come out. Restless her. She’d come out and he’d grab her. His handkerchief would have her out in seconds. They probably wouldn’t notice she was gone. The sods. He smiled.

“I need a smoke…” he thought.

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“I need to get out of here,” Ellyn thought. It had been ages since this damn house felt like home. The house now felt too small. More so when her family was home. Jacob in one corner fiddling with the insects she’d gotten him, her princess beaming in front of the telly, her man probably jerking off in his study…she smiled. Mean thing to think of her hubby. But honestly, when was the last time he and her had gotten together? Back in the day they couldn’t get enough of each other; he adored her and she took him for granted. She used to get high on cheap liquor and do crazy things, like the time she let Michelle, John’s personal assistant take advantage of her…that was one wild night. Her, Michelle and…whoever. Did John walk in on them? She’d never know, and she’d never ask…the heights had left a hazy memory.

The walls seemed to cave in on her. The house was definitely getting smaller. She headed for the front door.

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Raymond saw her walk out and look around, as though aware that she was being watched. She shivered. Lost in thought. A broken woman. One with so many secrets, they’d kill her. He moved stealthily. She noticed the movement and turned. She saw him. She tensed, very shocked that he should be there. He smiled and kept moving towards her. She took a step backward. He lunged. She tried to run but he was too fast. She screamed. He fumbled, trying to get the handkerchief square over her nose. Her resistance waned. He started to carry her towards the parked car. He noticed someone at a distance limping steadily towards him, waving his hands furiously, mouthing some stuff he couldn’t quite make out. He threw her into the back seat and he headed for the driver’s seat. He felt a sharp pain race through his thigh…

“Leave my mommy alone,” screamed the weird boy child. He withdrew the knife from Raymond’s thigh and moved to strike again. Raymond was faster. He kicked. The boy fell and groaned. He tried to get up but failed. Raymond got into the car. The writer lady moved her head and stared through the window, trying desperately to do anything more than mumble incoherently to herself…the chemical was too strong. She passed out…

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Thud…thud..thud…throb…thud…

She’d seen him, her secret lover. She’d seen Jacob, writhing on the ground. She’d seen John looking on from his window…doing nothing. He seemed…he seemed…this hurt…he seemed unbothered.

Throb…thudddd..throb…

She’d seen Hez. Grumpy Hez. Hez the grouch. Hez moving fast, trying to save her, Hez so disturbed, Hez in a frenzy…she’d almost forgotten how strong he was. How could she forget? How strong he had held her? How high he had taken her? All those years ago, before the amputation…Hez, Jacob’s dad…

Throbbb…thud..throbb…the headache was increasing. She had no idea where she was, and the putrid smell wasn’t helping any…she couldn’t see a thing; a sack covered her face. And her hands were tied behind her back. Did they have to gag her with something socked in an old woman’s piss? And this chair couldn’t quite hold her weight…

“She’s awake”, she heard someone say in a deep voice with an accent she couldn’t quite place.

Confident steps moved towards her. And then they stopped. He was close enough for her to smell his cologne. A cologne she knew so well. Then he pulled off the sack…

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That’s all normal people and Streetsider. And because I am still hang up on the ‘Kill the president’ series you fed us on sometime, and also because we all doubt your sanity (lulu did the poll), Carsozy, let it rip…