Archive | January 15, 2013

The ClockWork Collar, or The Princess of Al-ben, a kink-bingo mini-story in 25 parts. Poll 6

Master and Slave (LJ)

“Yes.” His foot was on her neck. “You will be who I want. You will imbibe what I want. You will bleed if I want.”

Stavanna swallowed, hard, as he rolled her onto her back. “You will imbibe what I wish,” he repeated. “When it pleases me, and only then.”

Next: The Drug (LJ)

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The ClockWork Collar, or The Princess of Al-ben, a kink-bingo mini-story in 25 parts. Part 6

First: First: The Collar (LJ)

Previous: Either Way (LJ)

“I will be a good slave, Master.”

He untied her. “I think you will be. I think you will be perfect for me.”

She fell to her knees without prompting, and pressed her forehead to his feet. “You are my master.”

“I am.” She felt the click of the leash as he attached it to her collar, and the coolness of the chain down her back. “How will you serve me?”

That was terrifyingly close to the words of her Order. “I will serve you with all my heart.”

“And with both your hands?”

“And with my lips. And my soul, Master.” Now she was truly trapped.

Next: Body and Body (LJ)

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Mini Giraffe Calls Day One

This Morning’s Call was The Weather, and in a little over an hour, I received four prompts:

Mini Call One: The Weather
The Stars (LJ) (Facets, Alexa/Xenia)
Don’t Cry Baby (LJ) (Addergoole Yr 13)

The Planet Called “Oh, Fuck, We’re Screwed” (LJ)
Holy Fuck, It’s Snowing (LJ) (Vas World, just after the one above)

There are two mini calls still to go:

Wednesday, 1/16/13, from 12:30 – 1:20 p.m. EST, with a theme of transitions


Thursday, 1/17/13, from 9:15 – 10:15 p.m. EST, with a theme of seven deadly sins.

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The Stars, a story of Facets of Dusk for the Giraffe Call

For cluudle‘s prompt.

This comes after Gender Play, here.

Facets of Dusk has a landing page here

“I can’t see the stars.” Alexa clutched Xenia’s hand. Alex. Today, she was he was Alex, and she-he-Alex was Xenia’s companion.

And her companion had the jitters. Xenia glanced up into the night sky. This world was dark at night, the only luminescence allowed thin strips along the sidewalks. Blackout curtains covered every window.

And tonight, there were no stars out at all. “That can’t be good.” She sniffed the air. The air was crisp, traffic being limited in daytime and, of course, totally missing at night. Somewhere, someone was burning a roast. A hot dog vendor – or this world’s equivalent – must be right around the corner.

And over it all, the smell of ozone and the suggestion of something very, very larger. “Lex, we need to get inside. Now.”

“We’re still three blocks from the party.”

“We should be close to the Tyen Tunnel our contact told us about.”

“But we were going to get some fresh air.”

Either Alex-a was playing her role too well, or she’d just gotten a little too used to being the one in the front of the charge. “Go… Goram fuck it, Alex, if you don’t get in that building right now, I am going to turn your ass a beautiful shade of purple when we get home.”

Alex-a meeped, and moved. “Xen…”

“Complain later, move now.”

Down the street, she could hear the hot dog vendor cheering. “Tell him who’s boss, sister.” She shoved Alex-a through the revolving door to the tunnel entrance as the skies opened op and the rain poured down.

“Turn my ass purple?” Alex-a muttered.

“Stay in character, and I won’t.” They watched the rain come down, washing the streets clean. More than washing; it looked like it was etching the pavement. No wonder there haven’t been many people out. “Well. That’s why your stars are missing.”

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Don’t Cry, Baby

To moonwolf1988‘s prompt.

Year 13, Reveal (Lunch time on the First Friday).

“Don’t cry, baby. When you cry, the sky cries with you.”

Amaya’s daddy had said that to her, growing up. He’d point out the window at the encroaching clouds, or the storm, or the shower, and say the same thing, every time.

When she tripped and skinned her knee.

“Don’t cry, baby.”

When she failed her first class

“When you cry…”

When her date to homecoming left her all lone.

“…the sky cries with you.”

When she stepped on the plane to leave everything behind.

“Don’t cry baby.”

“I know, Daddy. The plane won’t fly through turbulence.”

“And when you get upset, things get pretty turbulent.” He patted her shoulder and sent her off.

Off to… this place. This strange place with its strange people and its strange… everything. She looked around again, as if that would make it better.

She’d thought Beckett was pretty cute. He had a tail. A tail.

She wasn’t sure about Irvy, but she was certain he had scales. That was just unfair.

And Edan. He had a voice that calmed her right down, wicked cool tats, and he was in the only band Addergoole seemed to sport. But he was sporting prickly fur down his back and a personal field of ice-cold air. It was too much.

Way too much. She gulped, swallowed, and tried to find something safe for her eyes to settle on. Aleron. Aleron was cute, cute, and nice, and very taken…

…and sporting a pair of wide, green wings.

The air above the Dining Hall opened up with rain.

Amaya’s wiki page (thin as it is) is here –

Amaya Year 14 –

Edited and updated –

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Holy Fuck, It’s Snowing, a Story of Vas’ World (@dahob)

For @Dahob’s prompt; this happens concurrent with The Planet Called “Oh, Fuck, We’re Screwed,” (LJ)

“Holy Fuck. It’s snowing.”

Of all of them, Tarval had been the most resistant to the “it’s getting cold” idea. Although meteorology was not his primary or even his secondary skill, he had been an amateur weather-watcher on his home planet of Teyska, and had been certain the signs pointed towards a chilly but dry, mild “so-called winter.”

Besides, the trees didn’t like him, and he didn’t like them.

He had continued to do his own thing – preparing for the mild, brief cold snap he was expecting – and continued to tell everyone they were crazy for listening to trees, trees that tried to eat people, and not to the signs of the weather.

When the wind had changed direction suddenly, he’d taken it as a personal affront.

When the temperature had dropped degree after degree after degree in a few short hours, he’d joined everyone else in pulling every piece of fruit off the vines, herding the animals into the town square, and hunting and fishing a few last meat animals. “Brief cold,” he’d repeated, over and over again. But, less certainly, “no need to take unnecessary risks.”

He’d been the last one out as the temperature dropped past into the negative degrees. The animals were his purview, and he needed to be sure they were all safe.

He was fixing the halter on a gen-mod horse when the skies went from light grey to dark, and he’d just finished rigging a roof over their paddock when the stuff hit him in the face.

Everyone in the village heard his exclamation.

“Holy Fuck! It’s snowing!”

They needed the laugh, and they all took it. Even Tarval.

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The Planet Called “Oh, Fuck, We’re Screwed,” a story of Vas’ World for the Giraffe Call

For Rix_Scaedu‘s Prompt in Mini-Giraffe-Call January 1

Vas’ World has a landing page here.

This story takes place after Harvest (LJ) and after Xenonegotiations.

“Looking at the trees – talking to the trees – there’s going to be some cold weather coming.”

Aoife had the strange position, although, all things considered, it could have been stranger, of being Ambassador to the Trees on what they were calling Happy Accident (Because “Oh Fuck We’re Screwed” had been declared far too depressing a thing to name a planet, and nobody wanted to teach that name to the children they hoped would come).

The trees would communicate with other people, roughly, stay out or go here. But with Aoife, they would actually explain things.

“How cold is cold?” Rostislav and Caliber were the most concerned, Rostislav for the village and Caliber for the plants.

“They just said… ‘very, but no more than usual.'” Aoife shrugged. There was only so much you could do with plant speech.

“Very, but no more than usual” didn’t leave them a lot of room for planning. So they did the best they could; they stored food and made thicker clothing and fortified their buildings. They found firewood and moved their cookfires inside, tanned furs and covered their walls and beds and selves with everything they could.

In the end, it was nearly not enough; the snow started falling out of a clear sky and just… kept falling. And kept falling. Faster, longer, thicker snow than any of them, even Armanie-from-Minnesota, had seen.

The trees, it turned out, curled up on themselves, becoming short lumps the snow just slid off of. Even the tigerators were hibernating. Before long, the humans, beginning to think “Oh Fuck We’re Screwed” was a better name for the planet after all, were going to have to learn do the same.


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Mini Giraffe Call 1: The Weather

Today’s Giraffe Call Theme is The Weather

The Call for Prompts is now CLOSED!

Leave one or many prompts, and I will write (over the next week) at least one microfic (150-500 words) to each prompter (prompts may be combined)

Prompts can be related to one of my extant settings (See my landing page-landing page) or they can be for something completely different.

Prompting is free! But Donations are always welcome.

For each $5 you donate, I will write an additional 500 words to the prompt(s) of your choice.

If I get two new prompters or one new donator, I will write a setting piece (setting chosen by poll) explaining something about the prompts.

Because this is a mini-Call, there will be mini-perks!

* For every $15 donated, one prompter chosen at random will get an extra fic written –
* For every $30 donated, one random prompter will get a 500-word continuation.
* Every-$60 level open for suggestions!!

Incentives will carry over the three mini-calls in January.

500 $5.00 USD
750 $7.50 USD
1000 $10.00 USD
1250 $12.50 USD
1500 $15.00 USD
1750 $17.50 USD
2000 $20.00 USD

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