Deep Deep Down in Kitty Town

Oct6

The hood over Rrrina’s head smelled of menthol and nothing else, the world around her was muffled and her ears pinned against her head, and she was bound. Usually, when she ended up in this position, someone wanted to do something a bit naughty to her. This time… well, she wasn’t ruling it out, but she thought that “naughty” might be in a completely different context than she was used to.

And she was being carried again, carried by a skin-job, a leopard in a man’s body. This had to be the weirdest her life had been in – in – maybe in ever.

She was too turned around to have any sense of direction, the menthol in the hood made it impossible to navigate by scent, and her porter kept bouncing her, making it very hard to count steps. Had he stolen her? That’s what he’d said. But stealing slaves was – it was bad, very bad. And her head felt funny. Something in the menthol? Something… this was bad.

Rrrina came to on a cushion, in a warm place that felt like sunshine. Three sets of training came into play, and she opened her eyes only halfway while letting her other senses take inventory.

The cushion was comfortable, soft, and warm. The heat was too omnidirectional to be sunlight, but maybe a sun lamp? It was bright but not unbearably so, and the light seemed to be coming from above. Her nose was still clogged, but, even so, she could smell other cats.

She opened her eyes. The floor, the fixtures – all white. In front of her, a lab-coat person. Her eyes opened further. A lab-coat-wearing feline, jaguar spots, now that was new. Her captor was there, too, shedding out of his overalls. He met Rrrina’s gaze and smiled. It looked wrong, too feline in his human face

“Good, you’re awake. Welcome to the Feline Rebellion.”

After Down in Kitty Town, Entering Kitty Town, and Kit Town Maybe.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/823072.html. You can comment here or there.

Planet Rules, a ficlet for the Genderfunky prompt call (@anke)

Oct6

Reyne tried to make a point of meeting all new visitors to the planet at the spaceport. For one, as cultural attache, it was part of the job. For another – Reyne liked the Mestaron, but they were extremely, extremely touchy about certain things – much as many humans were, come to think about it – and there had already been too many “incidents.” Humans might be touchy, but it didn’t mean they were cautious about others’ touchiness when visiting other planets.

(It was a bit surprising that Reyne had been allowed to keep the position of cultural attache, once that first report, the one with the bolding and the caps-lock, had gone through, but part of the bolding-caps-lock-side-bar had covered the unusual situation of Reyne and others of similar unusualities.)

This particular contingent, however, Reyne made a point of taking a shuttle up to their ship and meeting them before they even thought about touching down. Dressed carefully, in clothing that was sufficiently formal to impress, sufficiently Mestaron-like to discomfit, and specifically and entirely androgynous, Reyne greeted each of the VIPs first in the current style of the Federation and then in the human-equivalent of the Mestaron style.

“I hope you brought women with you.” It was rude to go about things quite that directly – either for the Mestaron or humans – but Reyne wanted them off-put and off-balance. They needed to shake expectations first.

“Here in the Federated Nations we don’t concern ourselves with the gender of-“

“The Mestaron will. The Mestaron will take it as a considerable insult if you don’t bring your ruling class with you. Also: did the Federated States outlaw sex drives while I was away?”

The definitely-male-bodied person – whose collar insignia said was probably in charge of the mission – sputtered and stammered for a moment. “The Federated States doesn’t speak about-“

“But they do, I’m sure, or you’d be having a population problem. Look. You know if you brought women. And if you didn’t, we’re not going any further in this briefing and I’m not letting you on-planet.”

There were some days Reyne really loved this job.

Reyne has also appeared Here and here.

This is written to [personal profile] anke‘s prompt to my genderfunky prompt call.

Want more? I’m sure I could have fun with this one. Commission more words via Paypal at the Giraffe Call rate of $1/100 words.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/822695.html. You can comment here or there.

Wanted: Reviews for Jumping Rings and Edally Academy

Oct6

Jumping Rings/Inner Circle
is on Web Fiction Guide here
and of course, its website is here

Edally Academy
is on Web Fiction Guide here
on Muse’s Success here
and its website is here.

And I need reviews! Reviews drive traffic, they get people interested in the story, and they help with the rankings on both sites (still working on getting Jumping Rings up on Muse’s).

What’s more, reviews count as $5 towards a second weekly chapter – three reviews for Edally, and I’ll post another chapter. Ditto for Jumping Rings. And, yes, I’ll count a review written for one site and copy-pasted into the other as two.

Cheers!

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/822516.html. You can comment here or there.

Dungeon-and-Cave #Promptcall open for three more days!

Oct6

Did you know I had a prompt call open? (Here: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/819607.html).

The theme is “submissive men, chained men, captive men,” and funds earned will go towards making my writing cave a comfy place for writing this winter.

We got to the “take-out” level quickly this month, so last night, T. and I had Chinese take-out. (Sesame chicken, shrimp fried rice, fried dumplings, & crab Rangoon) (turns out the kitten approves of shrimp fried rice!)

We’ve also reached the $40 art-from-a-crowdfunded-artist level (And I’ve just commissioned Djinni to do a picture of the Samurai Catboy from the last giraffe call). I’ll have to see if the choice is as easy this time as it was last time; if there’s no clear favorite, I’ll put up a poll when the Call is closed.

And we’re $2 from everyone-gets-a-second-story!


So go prompt! Prompts don’t have to be kinky and fics won’t be sexually explicit unless you ask for it.

Then, if you like what you read, you can always tip for more story, at the discounted rate of $1/100 words.

~

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/822155.html. You can comment here or there.

Putting Down the Burden, a story for the Dungeon-and-Cave #promptcall

Oct6

“It’s the stereotype, right?” He shed his jacket and ran a hand through his hair, tousling it. The woman smiled encouragingly and let him talk. “Powerful guy, has it all.” His shirt joined his jacket; his fingers and his speech slowed. The woman didn’t mind – he was sculpted under the shirt, sleek, and clearly a bit nervous. “But he doesn’t have any place to put ‘it all’ down. He doesn’t have any place to not be in charge.” His fingers lingered on the button to his pants.

The woman counted silently to three, waiting for the moment when he looked at her, when he looked for an answer. One, two… there. She stepped forward, gently moving his hand away from his waistband so that she could take over. “Yeah, it’s the stereotype. And that’s for a reason.” She unbuttoned him, unzipped his fly, and with the same slender fingers pushed his pants down to his ankles. “But every theme has variations. Mmm, every song has a bridge.”

“Every rose has its thorn?” he teased.

“And every night has its dawn.” From her knees at her feet, she smiled up at him. “And sometimes, a powerful man needs to let go. Yes?”

He let out a noise that was somewhere between a groan and a plea. “Yeah. Yeah… yes.”

“Then… let go. I’ll be here to catch you, and I’ll be here to put you back on your feet.”

As the fireman sank slowly to his knees, the woman reached out, both hands, to hold his shoulders. Sometimes, they needed her to put out flames.

My Dungeon & Cave Call is open!

If you’d like to see more of this story, I’m sure I could come up with some;-) Just drop a tip in the the tip handcuffs:

Written to wispfox‘s prompt.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/821974.html. You can comment here or there.

The Hazards of Magic, a drabbleish of the Aunt Family for the Genderfunk Call (@wyld_dandelyon)

Oct4

Dr. Elwood had been the obstetrician for the last seventeen Family births. A remote cousin by marriage, Dr. Elwood understood, at least more than a normal doctor might have, the problems implicit in just about everything a Family member did.

Which meant that, when he held Haley Stone’s first child in his hands, he made sure that the nurses had cleared all extraneous family – all of them – out of the room before he spoke softly to Haley.

“Is it possible you – ah – indulged in some way during your pregnancy, Miss Stone?”

Her cheeks were already flushed, but he thought her expression might have been a bit guilty. “I never do drugs, Doctor. Is my baby all right?”

“Your baby is perfectly healthy, Miss Stone. And you know as well as I do that I didn’t mean drugs.”

“Ah.” Her hand went to the necklace around her throat, the one with the wide white stone that seemed to pulse in time with her heartbeat. “I – ah… My baby?”

“Your baby is perfectly healthy, Haley. But ah, seems to have been born with more than one set of genitalia.”

“More than…”

The doctor held up the child, and Haley gasped. “Oh, oh, dear Lord, the grannies are going to kill me.”

Written to [personal profile] wyld_dandelyon‘s prompt.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/821593.html. You can comment here or there.

The Two Weeks In Alder

Oct4

The Highlights

What Follows is Live!

Prompt Me
~Leave a prompt, get a microfiction~
Cave & Dungeon Prompt Call – Submissive or Captured Men

Serials
Edally Academy Chapter Twelve: If You Call It a Fish, People Will Expect It to Swim
Jumping Rings Chapter Seven: Taslin

Blog Posts
A beginning of a basic overview of starting a webserial
Everyone Else is Doing It: October Goals

Patreon Fic
Family Reunion, for the Genderfunk Call
The Shape-Wizard’s Apprentice

A Few Stories
Hallowe’en’s Past, a ficlet for the Genderfunk call
Rock, Hard, Now What?, for the Dungeon Call
(Not Actually Demifiction) of Inner Circle – Whoops for the Demifiction Prompt Call
The Lands of the Circled Plain, a… setting story? for #3ww

What Follows
The Creation of a Story: How I Wrote My Piece for “What Follows”
The Creation of the Faerie Apocalypse Setting

Prompt Me
Bisexual Characters
LadiesBingo Card still open!
Demifiction Prompts still Open
Mini-Prompt-Call: Genderfunkyness

Dungeon Call Stories
A Rescue, of Sorts
Aftercare, a story of Tír na Cali
Strong Enough?

Other Stories
The Ship That Visited, a story for the Giraffe Call
The Manticore, a story for the Giraffe Call
Samurai have Friends a continuation of Doomsday for the Giraffe Call

Letter Home, a story of Addergoole for the Genderfunk Call
Hard Hat & Easy Choices, a ficlet for the Genderfunk call
Seeking Roommate, a ficlet of Stranded World for the Genderfunk call

At Asta’s Funeral, a story of Aunt Family for LadiesBingo

Introductions, a continuation of Reynard
One Hundred Eight Roses, a drabble of Addergoole
Doomsday Academy First Day of Camping Club
Classrooms of Doomsday

Theme Poll for =$5 Donors
Poll Opens
Be a Tie-Breaker

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/821289.html. You can comment here or there.

Strong Enough?

Oct3

“I’m telling you, man, she’s something else. She’s in here like she’s on the prowl, on the huuunt.” Ted drew the word out like he was tasting it. “When’s the last time you saw a chick in here like that?”

“Well, a),” Rick ticked off on a finger, “we haven’t seen her yet, and 2), I haven’t seen a chick in here at all, except Patty the bartender, since Donnie’s wife came in after him. This is a sports bar, bro, and there’s nothing here but a giant sausage fest.”

“And beer.” Donnie demonstrated by slinging his beer back in one giant swig. “And my good friends Jack and Johnny. Think you’ve had too much to drink, Teddy boy.”

“What about you?” The whisky contralto snuck up on them, the sort of voice that tightened their pants and sped up their heart rates. “Are you strong enough?”

To a man, the Tuesday poker club turned to look. She was leaning over some poor slob at the bar, Craig, wasn’t it, the one whose wife had vanished. She wasn’t dressed sexy – white button-down and blue jeans – but she made it sexy anyway, made it deathly hot. “Are you?”

Craig belched blearily at her. “Babe, I’m strong enough for whatever you want.”

“I don’t think you are.” She straightened up, giving them all a glance of her white lace bra. Her eyes landed on Rick. “What about you, sweetheart? Are you strong enough?”

Rick had learned a thing or two from his older sisters. He met her gaze and held it, never mind how the jeans were hugging every inch of her thighs like he’d like to, never mind the white lace bra. “Miss, if you put a challenge before me, I’ll do my best to meet it.”

“Well then.” Teddy was right. Her smile was predatory. “Maybe you will be enough.”

My Dungeon & Cave Call is open!

We all know where this is going, but if you want to see more, drop a tip in, ah, the tip handcuffs:

This story written to @dahob’s prompt.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/821122.html. You can comment here or there.

Rock, Hard, Now what? (A story beginning for the Dungeon Call, @rix_Scaedu)

Oct3

“Well.” The princess looked at the man kneeling in front of her. He, in turn glared up at her. “This is certainly a situation.”

“No.” His voice was harsh. “This is an inconvenience. What happens when you let me out of the chains – that’s a situation.”

“It certainly could be.” She perched on an upholstered stool and studied him. He was all over muscle, fighter-style, and all over bruises and cuts. He was kneeling because he’d been chained that way, and even the chains, thick as her wrist, looked as if they were straining to hold him. “But here’s the problem. I don’t want to be here, you don’t want to be here. And any solution that leads to one of us not being here leads to us both ending up dead.”

“How do you figure, princess?” He sneered her title like an insult.

She didn’t respond in kind. “You heard my father. I have to survive you for a year. And you have to survive me – which, I admit, should be easier for you.” She ran her fingers over the hilt of her belt-knife. She wasn’t helpless – but she had to sleep sometime.

“Like he’d kill his precious daughter.”

“He is the King, and he gave his word. Emotion is secondary to honor.” She needed to move. She stayed sitting down. “And if you kill me, you won’t make it out of the city.”

“I might.”

“But you probably won’t.” She leaned down until she could look him levelly in the face. “So. Neither of us want to be here. How do we get through this?”

My Dungeon & Cave Call is open!

If you want more of this story – and this one could go on for a while!! – drop a tip in, ah, the tip handcuffs:

This story written to [personal profile] rix_scaedu‘s prompt. It is, I have to admit, a story I’ve tried to write several dozen times – however, this is the first time in quite a few years. So it’s new, right?

Next: Two Rocks & a Bunch of Pebbles

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/820967.html. You can comment here or there.