Captain’s Log 4,467
Oh! Things are really steamy here for the I Think I Look Like Angela Lansbury With Fifty Shades of Grey contest! YOW! You are getting very creative and inventive with your entries! It all adds to the fun and excitement of the whole thing. I applaud you all! You have given me a reason for living. Since my creativity has tanked over the last three years, this is a great way for me to stretch my smut muscles and see if I have the chops.
There is still time, but it is beginning to run out! I need all your pictures by September 30th (midnight or so) so I can “enter” you. Gosh. That’s not a good word either – enter. When you write smut, everything is nasty! Please send to poolagirl (at) aol dot com. Many thanks.
This next entry comes from someone whose writing I have admired for years! She is a very funny lady who lives in the Twin Cities (my old stomping grounds). A lot of what she writes about is funny, and a lot is poignant. We have both been harassed by a lot of the same assholes out there in Cyberland, so I feel a kindred connection with her. I present the smut-filled photo world of Mizz Kathy. Take it away, Sam!
Complicated and deep, Ana foists her rebellious nature on her precious Fifty by deliberating doing dangerous things. She knows the consequences of her actions, but she does them anyway. She knows he is worried that she will die if she trips over an errant riding crop tossed on the floor, so his rules mean business. If Mr. Spanky Hand has a problem with it, all the better for her. So…..he comes (ooops) into the room and sees her sprawled on the divan with a spent martini glass and a tired dog at her feet. The skates are a dead giveway. It’s hard to be subtle about skating. “Mrs. Grey! You know I forbid you to endanger your life! You are to text me every 30 seconds all day long to let me know if you are breathing! And now, you have found my roller skates? And you have used them?” Ana smiles like a slinky sex kitten and says, “I know they are part of your life with that she-whore feral bitch. The one who introduced you to pain. Your little games in the Play Room are nice, but NOHING beats the exquisite agony of road rash when you fall off your skates. Nothing! Not even YOU can hurt me like that!” Christian shakes his copper-colored locks and roars with agony. Noticing that her shoes are also de-laced, his anger rises like his personal periscope. He is one angry billionaire! Unlaced shoes are the major cause of death somewhere on the planet! He leaps upon her and tears off her leggings to see if she is injured. Falling to the floor, he pulls off her shoes and administers CPR to her toes. The mouth part of CPR. His tears fall to the floor as the dog looks bewildered. My inner goddess is hauling ass over to Skateworld with a can of shoe disinfectant.
Wow! That was quite a load. Gosh! I can’t say that word either. Come, load, kitten, and now….roller skates. What have I gotten myself into?