Wednesday, October 7, 2015

The Halloween Wish—children’s novella by Gayle Raimbault

Hello All:
October is here which means that Halloween is around the corner. And just in time for the holiday, Gayle Raimbault (my mother!) has published a children's novella titled, The Halloween Wish. If you've been searching for a cute book for your kids to add to their e-readers that is full of adventure, Halloween magick, and a touch of spookiness; then look no more!
The Halloween Wish takes place in Gayle's fictional town of Springview—located somewhere in the Midwest. It's an ordinary town except for one thing: Springview hides a secret! It has something to do with an off-beaten trail that runs through a cornfield and leads to an old farmhouse. And there are many legends surrounding this farmhouse. Why, some people even claim that a witch lives there!
Three children decide to set off on Halloween night to test the legends of this farmhouse. Wouldn't you like to join them? And they learn a valuable lesson along the way about making wishes.
The Halloween Wish is full of hand-drawn illustrations by Gayle and her granddaughter (my niece), Hannah. There are poems and songs to accompany the brilliant plot of this story. Need I come out and say that this book is awesome? I give it five stars! Your kids will love reading it, so do get a copy. But why should only children read it? Adults will love this adventurous and spooky tale as well.
As always, I never re-print material from other authors that I feature on this blog. I simply provide the link for you download, directly, from the author. Simply click the link that follows the synopsis.
The HalloweenWish—children’s novella by Gayle Raimbault Every Halloween a witch, with strange magical powers appears at the old deserted farmhouse. There are rumors of ghosts, creepy monsters, strange shadows roaming about the yard and screams coming from the barn. Jody, Pat, and Andy want to know if these tales are true and decide to go to the haunted farm on Halloween night. They are about to have the adventure of their lives. DOWNLOAD BOOK

Monday, October 5, 2015

The Rot--short story by Kipp Poe Speicher

Hello All:
A hot-button topic sometimes appears in every day conversation, suggesting that our country's leaders may not be looking out for our best interest. Who hasn't come to this conclusion in recent times? It would appear that politicians and company CEOs, alike, have it their only objective to make obscene amounts of money--whether it be for personal use or campaign funds. How far will these leaders go to get exactly what they want? What sort of sacrifices can be made? To make this issue all-the-more angering, it would appear that it's the ordinary, everyday citizen who pays the bill and often receives one injustice after another in doing so.
Conspiracy theory: it's a topic that creators of horror fiction have embraced. We truly are fearful of those who lead this country. What if politicians could do something horrible, and do it to those who are in most need of help in this country, all for the sake of a personal gain?
Kipp Poe Speicher's writings have appeared on this blog on a few occasions. Movie producer, author and lover of entertainment arts; he's quite an interesting character as one can see from his creations.
When reading the first, few paragraphs of his short story, The Rot, I couldn't help but feel for those less fortunate than me. When waking up this morning, I heard nothing but peace and quiet in my house. I had hot water in my shower, and the plumbing didn't sputter and spray air for some moments before finally spiking cold water. I'll go so far as to say that my environment was nice and clean; and I had food in my refrigerator for breakfast. Is it any wonder that I had a sense of guilt while experiencing a small moment of the main character's day?
But his day was only going to get worse for the main character!
I give this story 5 stars. Kipp did a great job in embracing a new terror that disturbs and outrages us. Well done!
Rather than reprint Kipp's story on the blog, I will provide you the link to his own page. The story is a free download for both PC and handheld. Be sure to get your copy!

The Rot - short story by Kipp Poe Speicher
What starts as a normal morning turns into a complete nightmare. What would you do if you could not find a breath of fresh air, and all you could smell was the Rot? DOWNLOAD SHORT STORY

Friday, October 2, 2015

The Hairbrush

Hello All:
Amazon Kindle promotion for The Death Mask takes place next week (October 4th through October 10th). Currently offered on the catalog at $3.99; you will have an opportunity to download this book for 99 cents! Be sure to take advantage of this deal all next week and get your copy.
New Essex is a Mapleview mini novella that will be released throughout Halloween week on the blog for our yearly celebration of the holiday. I am just putting the finishing touches on this story. All the time spent writing this mini novella accounts for my lower-than-usual production of short stories. But I will be back! I promise!
Today's featured writing is a peculiar work of horror about nothing more than an old lady in the attic with her hair brush.
Have a great weekend. Please do not forget the Amazon Kindle promotion throughout the week of October 4th through October 10th. 
Hmm... there goes that series of numbers that have been haunting me in recent weeks: 410. What does it mean? What do "they" want?

The Hairbrush
Great Grandmother sat in the attic bedroom on a warm, summer day; wearing not only her dress slacks and old-lady blouse, but a shawl and covered in a blanket. Ninety years old and living with her son, she was given her own, personal place in the attic; a large bedroom that was well furnished with her antique furniture and television set.
She mostly sat in the wooden rocking chair, slowly rocking back and forth so that the curved rails would click along the spaces in the hardwood floor. The rhythmic sensation of rolling along the spaces brought with it a comfort, a release from stress and frustration.
Along with heating ducts to feed the attic bedroom during cold, winter months; great Grandmother was also given a large, window air conditioner for summer. Everyone knows how unbearably hot the attic can get during summertime. And the heat can be deadly for the elderly. But she chose to keep the air conditioner off. Great Grandmother was like any other elderly woman who wore layered clothing throughout the year to stay warm. The attic was roasting hot that day; but she stayed huddled under her blanket, just rocking in the chair.
Suddenly, she felt an itch on the side of her head which instinctively caused her to scratch. Great Grandmother had a terribly, dry scalp underneath her white hair that caused much irritation as it healed from excessive scratching and then scabbed to become flakey, dead skin.
Ooo! There it went again! Poor great Grandmother needed to scratch some more as her nails aggressively dug into her flakey scalp. But with every gouge of her nails it only worsened the irritation. There was only one thing that could provide her with relief.
In younger years, not much care and thought was required to simply rise from the chair. As a girl, she nearly willed herself in the air, sort of bounced from the seat and jumped onto the floor. But in her decrepit condition it was somewhat of a struggle, now, to push herself up with arms and then balance her sore hips as weak legs and thighs would begin to walk. She imagined that people below probably heard her walk across the hardwood floor.
"Grandma's off her rocker, again." Such a cruel joke was probably made downstairs. They often made fun of the old woman. Her "real family" gone for many years, it was now the generation and the one after to be burdened with caring for the remaining ancestor who should really join the others in the next world. Occasionally she received a visitor who only looked in the bedroom door to say, "Pew, this bedroom stinks!"
It wasn't great Grandmother's fault. She received a bath maybe once a week, if that. No one wants to handle a naked, elderly person.
Finally near the large dresser with mirror, she reached for her old wire hairbrush and began to pull it through her white hair. The needles of the brush went deeper into the hair so that they finally made contact with the scalp. And once the wire needles touched her scalp, great Grandmother dug even harder. Scraping and gouging and tearing through her scalp; this activity was the only pleasure she experienced in recent times. Then again, sleeping was a pleasurable experience as well.
Great Grandmother looked into the very mirror that she owned for over 70 years. For so long that mirror reflected the image of a young and beautiful woman. Now she was a hideous spectacle, a wrinkly, shriveled prune with white hair that fell out through each brush stroke. Flakes of dandruff and dead skin fell upon her shoulders. And then there was the subtle spot of red that appeared near the side of her hair. Through the excessive scratching, scabs and sores had been opened so that her white hair absorbed a bit of blood. It was nice, really, some color to add to the white.
With her head tingling and stinging in some areas, great Grandmother was satisfied that no further attacks of itch would happen for at least a couple of days. And the exercise certainly warranted an afternoon nap in her favorite rocking chair, huddled under the nice, warm blanket.
In our modern 21st century, it's not uncommon for grown adults to return home and live with Mom and Dad. You can thank our economy and job market for this reality. While great Grandmother slept, little Julia—great granddaughter—slowly ascended the stairs into the attic. Wanting to play dress-up and look pretty for the afternoon; her mean, older sister wouldn't allow her to use the hairbrush. Mommy's hairbrush was in the bathroom closet and up high. But great Grandmother had a hairbrush easy in reach. It was only necessary to tiptoe in her attic bedroom, reach for the old wire hairbrush and bring it back downstairs.
Little Julia brushed her long, beautiful hair; embedding flakes of great Grandmother's dead skin into her own hair. But don't worry; there was plenty of embedded scabs, dandruff and even dried blood to go around for everyone. Little Julia placed great Grandmother's favorite hair brush in the bathroom cabinet drawer. Surely, more people in the family would use it later!

Tuesday, September 29, 2015

Blue Magnetic Ocean

Hello All:
The artist goes by the name of Mystical Sun, and creates music in the psychill, psychedelic, psybient, ambient, and downtempo genres. According to the website. "The sound of Mystical Sun can be described as a deep and mystic tone emanating from a radio transmitter in a parallel dimension."
One of my favorite songs from Mystical Sun that I wish to share with you actually inspired the short story being featured today. Released in September of 2002; the song, Blue Magnetic Ocean, treats the listener to a psychedelic journey into the mysterious reality of the blue magnetic ocean. No one has ever been able to describe what the blue magnetic ocean is, but it's absolutely beautiful and at the same time, mind-blowing. When first hearing this song, I was so enchanted by it that it actually echoed in my mind for over two days; a phenomenon which scared me because I feared that perhaps the blue magnetic ocean was doing something to my consciousness.
Go ahead and give the song a listen. I give it five stars!

So how did this song inspire today's short story. Well I was listening to it one day, and thought to myself, "This is a song about a cricket that finds himself in the toilet. He might believe that he has discovered a wonderful, new world all to himself. But the cricket best look out! This private ocean doesn't stay so peaceful for long. It can suck him down into the depths of forever with no return.
A Peculiar Ocean
Tirelessly wandering along the peaks and valleys of an uncharted world; a clear and bright body of water suspended in a state of crystal purity is so beckoning to one with a great thirst. Baffling, however, is how remote and isolated, almost hidden, this ocean is. One can wander for hours and never hear its sound, only to stumble upon the welcoming sensation of ice-cold water that soothes the tired body and quenches a deep thirst.
Outside of trace-amounts of bacteria, the sea is void of any life. No murkiness, no scent or cycle of living and dying: the waves are still which enables one to gaze into the very depths of the bottom.
How long does this ocean remain a haven of purity? Perhaps if a discoverer stood at the shore for a lengthy period of time, he or she might conclude that this ocean is ever-calm and uneventful. It does rain in this ocean, but it mostly happens out at sea. Very rarely is the shore touched by the drops of falling moisture. Occasionally, mysterious objects will float down the center which may intrigue the discoverer of this ocean, "What is this body of water connected to?"
Considering its calmness, looks are deceiving! Most deadly are the sudden, flash hurricanes that are so violent and wrathful. One would never expect this ocean to produce such a cataclysmic event. In this phenomenon, a flood of water will invade the shore which draws an unfortunate bystander to the middle of the sea. The powerful, cyclonic forces will produce a gravitational center which rapidly pulls the terrified victim down to an ocean-floor grave.
Look! Here comes an unsuspecting discoverer! The water is so cool, calm, and clean. In such a great exhaustion and thirst, he bends down at the shore and draws the water to his mouth -- immediately providing rejuvenation of body, mind, and soul. He thinks he's found his own sanctuary; an entire ocean privately owned.
But, then, the light of the heavens suddenly glow brighter. A great illumination is cast from overhead. And then a mysterious voice announces with disgust, "Ewwww! There's a cricket in the toilet!"
The beach is immediately flooded and down, down he goes.

Friday, September 25, 2015

The New Game

Hello All:
Last weekend, we visited a beautiful prairie where I took some photographs. These photos were shared on Facebook with family and friends. It was my father who pointed out the mysterious, dark, cat-creature-like face that lurks in the bushes. This is only one photo from that set. The thing appears in a few of the pics and seems to have been following us.
I just received a chill up my spine while writing the  above paragraph. You see, this morning I was checking my spirit box for any important messages from my discarnate friends. During this session I was warned that something is hiding in the bushes and wishes to creep up from behind and stab a knife in my back. At the time I hadn't thought of the photos taken at the prairie. But what does the spirit box mean? What could possibly be waiting to do harm. And, apparently, the face in the bushes is some manifestation of this warning.
If you ever receive messages like this from your spirit box, don't be alarmed. Not every piece of information should be taken literal. As for me, this warning of knife in my back might be towards something abstract that I need to be on guard for.
Today's featured writing is new story--actually the second story of what appears to be a new series. A couple of years ago I wrote a story simply titled, The Tit Shifter. Do check it out if you haven't done so already. It's about some guy who drives around with a synthetic breast on the floor shifter of his Z28 Camaro. Inside the synthetic breast is a quartz crystal. The fictional character uses these items to enable himself to telekinetically fondle the breasts of nearby women. It's a great story! Do check it out: READ STORY
The Tit Shifter returns in a new story in which he faces some bad luck. But a new door has opened for him. Towards the end of the story he devises a new game to play that involves pennies.
Have a great weekend! Hide your tit shifters from the police!
The New Game
Little Billy and his older brother, Johnny, sat in the front room on a quiet and rather boring Saturday afternoon. They just wanted to go outside and play! But Mother and Father were out shopping for groceries with strict orders not to go outside until they get home. For now, all the boys could do was occupy themselves by eating homemade ice cream cones.
Suddenly, the sound of a car could be heard roaring down the street. Its engine was at open throttle, rapidly approaching and about to pass house. The boys were accustomed to these souped-up hotrods that raced down the street throughout the day. There was almost something magical about their presence, almost as-if they were gods to be worshipped during their cameo appearances.
At the sound of the roaring engine, both boys jumped up from the sofa and over to the full front room window which yielded a view to the outside world. "Awe...! It’s a Z28 Camaro!" exclaimed Johnny. At only twelve-years-old, he was already knowledgeable on classic cars.
"Whoa!" chimed in little Billy.
The driver surely meant business that afternoon as he raced passed the house in his bright, yellow Z28 with wide, black stripe painted on the center of the hood. Maybe he was in a hurry to get home and eat lunch. Or maybe he was off to race one of the other hotrods in the neighborhood.
It was neither of these possibilities. You see; the driver was the legendary Tit Shifter, known for his ability to telekinetically fondle the breasts of nearby women with the use of an artificial tit that is mounted to the floor shifter of his car. He was cruising the neighborhood for his next victim that afternoon, and spotted on the next block a busty MILF who pushed her baby in the stroller. He couldn't let her get away! He had to reach her and then slowly drive by to do nothing more than fondle and squeeze her large breasts from a distance. Maybe she was nursing, and her tits were full of milk. Through telekinesis, he could make them gush and spray out all over her white t-shirt.
But what was this? At the end of the block, the Tit Shifter noticed a police car that was partially hidden behind a large, old tree. Apparently, a police officer was being sneaky and wished to clock motorists with an agenda to hand out speeding tickets that afternoon. Immediately the Tit Shifter applied the brakes, and dropped the shifter into a lower gear to slow down.
The officer heard the racing vehicle and attempted to lock his speed gun on the approaching vehicle. But it was too late. By the time he clocked the approaching Z28 Camaro, it was doing only two miles over the limit. That wouldn't have been much of a speeding ticket. Regardless, the officer did not like what he heard and saw. The car and driver also gave the officer a strange vibe. Whoever sat in that Z28 Camaro was definitely up to no good that afternoon!
Immediately, the flashing lights were activated on the squad car as the officer drove after the Z28.
"Ah, shit!" exclaimed the Tit Shifter. "He caught me!"
The busty MILF would get away this time as the Tit Shifter could only do the legal thing and pull over for the police car. With hand on synthetic breast, he shifted the Z28 Camaro into park and nervously waited for the officer to approach the driver side window.
"Good afternoon, sir!" greeted the officer with a voice of authority. "Can I see your driver’s license and proof of insurance?"
"Okay..." reluctantly answered the Tit Shifter while reaching for the wallet in his back pocket. Several seconds later he presented his driver's license and insurance card.
The officer took them and then asked, "Do you know why I pulled you over?"
The Tit Shifter is smart. He wasn't going to confess or even suggest the possibility of speeding. He merely shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know... Is my engine too loud or something?"
"Yeah, it was loud alright!" confirmed the officer. "Especially when you are racing down the street. This is a residential area with kids playing outside and pedestrians walking the streets. Why, just on the next block there's a mom walking with her newborn baby in a stroller. What if you hit them and killed the baby?"
The Tit Shifter only shrugged his shoulders in response.
"Do you even care?" asked the officer.
"Yeah..." answered the Tit Shifter. He reminded himself of the Fifth Amendment. He didn't have to answer anything to the officer if he didn't want to.
"Do you have any drugs or weapons in this car that I should know about?" interrogated the officer.
"Nope..." answered the Tit Shifter.
"What's that?" asked the officer while pointing at the floor shifter.
"What...?" asked the Tit Shifter.
"That thing on your shifter!" clarified the officer.
"Oh, that's nothing." reassured the Tit Shifter. "That's just decoration."
"Sir, that looks like a tit shifter to me.” accused the officer. “Are you aware that those have been banned in this town, and soon to be outlawed throughout the state?"
The Tit Shifter played dumb, "What's a tit shifter?"
The officer was finished playing games. He ordered the Tit Shifter out of the car and then escorted him to the backseat of the squad car. Almost immediately, a second police officer arrived. Both searched the Tit Shifter's Z28 Camaro for any contraband—drugs, weapons… or outlawed paraphernalia for tit shifting.
"That is bullshit!" exclaimed the Tit Shifter while helplessly observing from the back seat of the squad car. One of the officers removed the synthetic breast from the floor shifter along with the quartz crystal inside of it that made telekinesis possible. These items were placed on the hood of the Z28.
Ten minutes later, satisfied that there was no hidden contraband , the original officer returned and ordered the Tit Shifter back to his car. Then he explained, “Sir, you are being issued a $350 citation for possession of tit shifting paraphernalia. And under local ordinance, I am required to confiscate the items on your hood."
"WHAT???" exclaimed the Tit Shifter. You can't take that stuff away from me!"
The officer pulled off his sunglasses and exhibited a serious expression while explaining; “Now I just told you that tit shifting has been outlawed in this town, and soon to be outlawed throughout the state. It's a distracting activity to do while driving, and can cause accidents. I could issue you another citation for reckless driving, but we won't talk about that."
The Tit Shifter sadly sat in the driver seat of his Z28 Camaro in silence for several minutes as the officer wrote up the expensive citation. He was almost numb in shock with the realization that he had officially lost the synthetic, life-like breast along with quartz crystal. So much time had gone into mentally programming that quartz crystal along with perfecting the art of telekinesis. Not only that, the life-like, synthetic breast was a true joy to play with while driving.
On the way home that afternoon, the Tit Shifter passed the neighbor's house where their eighteen-year-old daughter, Penny, lived with them. The young girl had just graduated high school, and could now legally be considered fresh meat for the taking. The Tit Shifter had his eyes on Penny ever since she was in seventh grade. Finally, he didn’t have to worry about breaking the law.
By the time the Tit Shifter approached her home, Penny had just parked her red Hyundai Elantra out in front of her house— a graduation gift from her parents. And just like previous times of seeing the Z28 Camaro, Penny anticipated another strange and unexplainable moment in which making eye contact with her neighbor would result in the sensation of having her C-cup breasts fondled. She secretly enjoyed this phenomenon. Penny truly believed that her neighbor had a psychic power that could be used on her.
She walked slowly up to the driveway while sucking a McDonald's soda up through the straw. Maybe she needed to suck and slurp on something else. She eagerly waited for the Tit Shifter to cop a feel.
But what was this? In all the effort of making eye contact, Penny's breasts that were eager for a good fondling could feel no unexplainable squeezing.
"Damn-it!" exclaimed the Tit Shifter. "I can't do it anymore! Fucking cops took my tit shifter away! And she wants me to do it, too."
As the Tit Shifter pulled into his driveway, he realized that there was definitely some chemistry between him and Penny. Penny actually wanted him. So why was the Tit Shifter wasting his time with remotely assaulting her through telekinesis? Penny was finally of legal age. He could pursue her and have all the sex he wanted with her.
Ah, but that's not how Penny's parents would feel towards the matter. They would surely hunt him down, beat him and then leave his body for the dead. For this fact, the Tit Shifter would have to secretly pursue young Penny.
But how could he do that?
The answer was simple. The Tit Shifter would have to somehow attract young and beautiful Penny to his front door where she would have an uncontrollable desire to enter his home and be sexually assaulted. It would be considered her belated eighteenth birthday present.
But how could the Tit Shifter attract Penny to his front door?
It would be easy! All the Tit Shifter needed to do was invent some magickal contraption that would grant him the power of telepathic influence. He would need a small box with perhaps a certain number of zinc pennies along with some element that would represent Penny's consciousness and sub-consciousness.
"Zinc?"—an educated reader might ask? "Why would he use zinc pennies? Shouldn't he use copper pennies? Copper, after all, is the metal used for attracting things such as friendship, love and sex."
The Tit Shifter already senses your suggestion, and will integrate copper pennies into this magickal contraption. But you see; he needs zinc to impose psychic insight and visions onto Penny. And it's needed to encourage her to cooperate with the Tit Shifter's subconscious suggestion to come to his door.
To be continued...

Wednesday, September 23, 2015

The Origination of the Male Species

Hello All:
I recently find myself wondering what it is that the school teaches my kids these days. Along with weird and useless things like common core mathematics, it would appear that my kids are coming home with strange notions about the world around them.
Case in point: my youngest daughter who has begun her freshman year in high school approached me the other evening and declared, "I don't think I like my history book." She looked very uneasy and disturbed.
"You don't like your history book?” I asked. “Why?"
"Because it talks about women's butts and boobs." she explained.
"You mean to tell me that your history book is discussing things like women's butts and boobs?" I probed.
"Yeah..." she answered
Of course as a parent I was really interested in finding out just what the purpose of discussing butts and boobs in a history book might have been. Maybe it was a theory of natural selection. Maybe there was some story in there about two women who emerged from a cave one morning; one with a so/so butt, the other with a nice juicy booty that twitched as she walked. And naturally the caveman would have jumped the woman with the juicy, twitchy booty. This natural selection that took place for millions of years would have resulted in the recognizable and much-revered, modern-day woman’s ass. Women’s asses, after all, are very nice!—even the skinny ones.
"Honey, can I see this history book?" I finally asked my daughter. “Show me the discussion of butts and boobs."
She dashed off into her bedroom for the history book and returned to the kitchen where it was slapped on the table. She flipped through the pages until reaching a portion of the apparent chapter that her class was reading. "And look at this!" she pointed to a paragraph. "See what it says?"
It was a section on prehistoric civilization with a conclusion to family structure. It said something to the extent that men were responsible for things such as hunting and defending their territory while women performed duties such as cooking and preparing food, taking care of children (nursing might have been included).
"Okay...? So what's the problem?" I asked my daughter. This is true. Men hunted while women birthed, took care of children and did other domestic duties."
My freshman daughter did not like this suggestion. "But we have no scientific proof of this!" she argued.
I suddenly considered that perhaps my knowledge was outdated. Maybe the things I learned in high school about science, history and sociology were mostly false. I apologized, "Honey, this tidbit of information that you’ve given me is totally new. I was not aware that cave women did not stay at home to take care of children, cook and clean." But then I added, "What about modern-day indigenous people? Their ways of life are very close to prehistoric humans. And in those cultures, women stay at home to do domestic duties while men hunt and go to war."
I could see that I made a good point for my daughter. But it outraged and terribly disturbed her. She stormed off into her bedroom and closed the door. (And I didn't get to see the discussion on butts and boobs.)
I spent the remainder of the evening wondering what could have possibly disturbed my daughter about the theoretical role of women in prehistoric times. Had she not stormed away, I would have offered my belief that, surely, some women were fierce and strong enough to hunt with men in those days. And they didn’t just cook, clean and give birth! In many indigenous cultures of today, it’s the women who own homes. They build the shelter and invite the man to live with them. Women in such cultures are also responsible for creating tools, pottery, and making repairs.
I sat down in the family room and looked up articles on recent findings of the role of women in prehistoric times. I mean when I went to school, I learned that women birthed children. What's more, I don't believe that items such as baby formula and baby bottles existed in prehistoric times. Who nursed the children? You cannot, after all, latch a baby on the tit of man and expect milk to flow. Oh, but of course we can do this in modern times with the use of hormone therapy. But, again, this sort of science did not exist prehistoric times.
Come to find out in my web research that much has changed in the world of science since we went to high school. Our knowledge is terribly outdated. Much of what we learned in high school might, today, be considered false. And today's featured writing is a little report based on my research of prehistoric man. Now you will be brought up to speed on what our kids are learning in history and science class.
The Origination of the Male Species
The male species could be considered an accident gone terribly wrong. You see; in prehistoric times, there were no men. The human race was exclusively female.
"Exclusively female?"—you might ask? "So how did humans procreate in prehistoric times?"—you might further challenge.
Well for many centuries we have maintained the erroneous belief that a man and a woman are necessary for creating a child. We've believed that it's necessary for a man and a woman to engage in sexual intercourse, an act made possible only through coercion and lies by the man or sometimes even rape. It results in the fertilization of the egg. But this process of a sperm fertilizing an egg is "hit or miss". It sometimes works, and it sometimes doesn't. Of all the millions of sperm that are deposited by the male, chances are that not one of them will successfully fertilize the egg following an act of sexual intercourse. Therefore, there is no solid or conclusive, scientific evidence that sexual intercourse between a man and a woman is the natural way of procreating offspring.
Scientists have recently un-earthed the remains of a prehistoric tribe and analyzed their bones. Through this analysis, it was determined that the women of this tribe were capable of producing their own sperm to fertilize their eggs with. No intercourse necessary, and no donation of sperm from a male; yes, the prehistoric female was capable of asexual reproduction.
You might challenge this scientific discovery by saying, "Oh, come on! How can they determine that women could asexually reproduce by digging up a bunch of bones from thirty-thousand years ago and analyzing them?” To this you are simply going to have to understand that these are scientists who made this discovery. They are experts, and certainly know what they are doing.
What's more? The fact that women were once capable of asexual reproduction offers hope that they can still do it now. And to help facilitate this return to a more natural reproduction of the human species; scientists have developed a cocktail of chemicals and synthetic hormones that when administered to a woman actually tricks her egg into thinking that it has been fertilized, which thereby develops a human fetus. This exciting advancement in medical science completely removes the need for a male in procreating human offspring. And there is no reason to fear that perhaps the baby will be born mutated or deformed. Again, these are scientists working on this stuff, and they definitely know what they are doing!
Women didn't have to endure pregnancy or the burden of nursing in prehistoric times. Scientists have dug up the bones of prehistoric animals and determined that the female species of these animals were capable of giving birth. This leads to the possibility that prehistoric women actually transferred their micro-sized human fetuses into other animals to carry for nine months before it finally gave birth. Prehistoric women were incredibly intelligent as suggested by their skeletal remains, and capable of amazing feats such as developing a scientific means of extracting and transferring their babies into other animals. And they would have done it just before any unpleasant signs of pregnancy occurred—weight gain, swollen breasts, change of hormones, etc. After all, what woman wants to endure those things?
To some, this discovery of women transferring their fetuses over to animals might settle the argument as to who was responsible for hunting in prehistoric times. It has traditionally been believed that the man had this responsibility because women were always pregnant or nursing. But the truth is women didn't need to hunt. Skeletal remains of prehistoric women indicate that they were exclusively vegetarian. They at nuts, berries, fruits and vegetables.
You might ask, "So if prehistoric women never experienced pregnancy and birthing, how did they feed their babies?"
Again, the prehistoric woman was very clever. The animal that carried her baby and gave birth to it would have had plenty of milk. The baby would have been strapped underneath the animal to drink all the milk it needed.
Some people might wonder if the lack of men in prehistoric times resulted in women being lesbians. And to some extent, this is true. But keep in mind that being a lesbian has ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to do with sex. It's about having feelings and compassion for your partner. It's about offering yourself as being the most caring and loving friend. And there was plenty of this between women in prehistoric times, but not sex! Sex is something dirty that was invented by men in their mentally retarded and demented state of mind. It offers nothing more than a means to satisfy their perverted and lustful urges. And they use it to dominate and control a woman—lay on top of her and force her to endure the painful intrusion of an erect penis inside of her vagina while expecting her to enjoy it.
You might ask, "So if prehistoric Earth was exclusively women, then where did the man come from?"
Well, occasionally, a woman who knelt behind the animal that birthed her baby would have been disappointed to discover a common deformity. Many times, the baby's lower organs—the testicles and penis—were outside of its body. It was believed that this deformity would have caused all sorts of problems later in life. The baby would have been too much trouble to care for. Because of this, the prehistoric woman would have done the only reasonable and humane thing. She would have carried her unwanted, deformed newborn to a remote region of the wilderness and left it there for an animal to devour.
But she shouldn't have done this! She should have, instead, killed the baby to prevent Earth's shocking arrival of the male human species. You see; sometimes a famished animal that happened to discover the abandoned baby actually did devour it. But many other times, packs of wild animals such wolves, lions, or even a mother bear with its cubs would take the baby, care for it and raise it as its own. Yes, the prehistoric human male was brought up by nothing other than wild beasts! He learned the social customs and rules of—perhaps—wolves. He learned how to hunt and devour bloody meat. He learned animalistic behaviors such as fighting with other males for mating rights. He learned of competition and social dominance. But at some point in adulthood, these human males would have left their packs and eventually discovered one another. From there a large pack of men assembled in the prehistoric wilderness. Together they were efficient in hunting for meat. But they wanted something else! They all agreed that there was something missing in their lives.
Then one day, a large pack of men discovered a peaceful village of women. The women were naked and looked so pretty, perhaps easy to take and dominate. The village was soon invaded by the horrific, meat-eating, lustful beasts. They viciously attacked and raped the women. And just like all men, they believed that the women enjoyed the sex as they could only lie there, helplessly, while screaming and crying.
Soon afterwards, the village of women experienced, for the first time in history, the phenomenon of pregnancy. They felt ill and weak. Their breasts swelled and they gained weight. They were hormonal and contentious. But the horrific, meat-eating, lustful beasts didn't care. They merely smacked these women around as-if to put them in their place—just like the animals did in the packs where they came.
"Shut the hell up, bitch!" a prehistoric man might have grunted upon striking his pregnant, bitchy and irritable partner across the face. "Fix me dinner! I'm hungry! And clean up this place!"
But what was this? The woman cooked a strange type of food that originated from plants. It was alright for the prehistoric man—different in an enjoyable sort of way. But he needed meat. And that's when he introduced to the prehistoric woman the act of killing, cooking and eating animals.
Prehistoric man and woman sat side-by-side by the fire while eating their dinner of meat, vegetables, fruit, nuts and berries.
"Oh, this is great!" the prehistoric man would have grunted. Then he would have further grunted, "I'm so glad I found you. You make me so happy! My life is so complete, now.”
In her defeated, helpless and pregnant state; it actually meant something to the prehistoric woman. In a sick sort of way she was learning to love her captor, despite how demented, retarded and abusive he was.
"And you like it when I lay on top of you, and force my way in, right?" the prehistoric man would have reminded her.
She would have had no choice but to agree. And this is how women became brainwashed into accepting their degrading roles as sex objects, baby factories, and domestic servants.
As you can see, the man  is a horrible beast that must be stopped. He's ruined the world ever since he came into existence.

Monday, September 21, 2015

Late Night Lollipop

Hello All:
I apologize for neglecting to update the blog last week. You see, all writing has been 100% focused on completing what I call the "Mapleview mini". This work titled, New Essex, will be released throughout the week of Halloween for our yearly celebration of the holiday.
 I hope to be back on our regular schedule with new material very soon: Cableman adventures, Black-Leather Gloved Hands mystery series and the likes.

Today's featured writing is another one of those short stories that were pulled from the major catalogs. Surprisingly, not one person downloaded the story. I wonder why? In any case, it's returned to the Literary World of Tom Raimbault for everyone to enjoy.
Late Night Lollipop
Lana tossed and turned in bed on a warm, summer night. It was already 12:15am, but she could hardly sleep. Any time she did dose off, she would be startled awake from dreams of a penis that hung before her face. It belonged to a man who stood before a mirror and carefully shaved his scrotum, penile shaft and the surrounding pubic area.
"There you go..." the mysterious voice spoke.”Almost done... That's the way you like it, don't you? You like my cock to be baby smooth." He wildly shook his dick from side-to-side, slapping the meat from one side of the waist to the other.
The sound of skin being spanked by the meat of a cock woke Lana from her sleep. What was with these dreams? If only she could finally get a good night sleep.
Perhaps what Lana needed was to go out for a nice walk, maybe over to the 24-hour convenient store for some candy. That's it! That's what Lana needed! She needed some candy, maybe a lollipop to suck on—preferably a long lollipop stick that she could dip and twist deep in her mouth. While laying in bed she could she could suck and lick the candy until finally falling asleep.
And so Lana got out of bed and stepped into a pair of shorts that lay on the floor. Before going to bed earlier that evening she simply undressed and slipped a t-shirt over her head so that the shirttail barely covered her naked pussy and ass. She was only sleeping under the covers, so this wasn't such a bad thing to do. Now that it was late at night and she was merely going for a stroll to the convenient store, it wasn't necessary to put on a bra. Lana let her big D-cup tits hang freely under the loose-fitting shirt. Finally she stepped into a pair of flip-flops and walked out into the night.
"Flip-flop-flip-flop-flip-flop..." Lana walked through the parking lot of her apartment complex, towards the dark alley. The sidewalk along the lighted main road would have been safer, but she didn't want to risk people seeing her dressed so scantily. With her naked tits jiggling under the loose t-shirt and tight shorts that held back a panty-less ass; people might have mistaken her for a dirty street woman in search of sex. But Lana wasn't looking for sex. She was simply on her way to the convenient store for a nice, long lollipop stick to satisfy her urge to suck on some candy.
"Flip-flop-flip-flop-flip-flop..." Through the darkness and about a block from the convenient store, Lana suddenly had overwhelming, obsessive thoughts for the penis she had seen in her dream. That mysterious voice sounded so creepy. Why was he shaving his cock while telling Lana that she should like it baby soft? And it really bothered Lana that the final image of his penis slapping side to side looked so intriguing. As much as she hated to admit, she wanted to see him do it some more.
Maybe if Lana was lucky, some dangerous man might see her flip-flopping through the dark alley with big tits rocking under her shirt. He might attack her and pull out his dick. Then Lana could see a real one, maybe even get touched by it.
Candy! Lana needed to stay focused on candy! She could see the convenient store sign just across the street where the alley met with a main road. All she could think of was that nice, long lollipop stick sliding in and out of her mouth. Surely there was cherry flavored. It would be so sweet, sticky and yummy!
Through the doors of the convenient store, Lana wasted not a moment in approaching the counter where a large assortment of candy sat in pocket shelving. And right near the gum, suckers and fruity candy was the last lollipop stick—her favorite flavor, cherry.
The convenient story clerk couldn't help but gawk at Lana's big tits while ringing her up. It was a little eye candy for the late night worker. He couldn't help but wonder if the customer was in the mood for something other than candy. Who walks in the store late at night, dressed like a street woman in need of sex and purchases a long lollipop stick?
It was none of the clerk's business! Lana was simply there for candy and nothing more! She took her change and walked out the door, clutching the lollipop stick like it was the love of her life. Outside she tore into the wrapper and threw it on the sidewalk. Then she slipped the lollipop through her lips. She did so, slowly, nearly closing her eyes as-if it were the most wonderful thing, ever. To ensure that she experienced every bit of flavor, Lana slid the lollipop in and out. Oh it was so good... so good!
Lana ran across the street and couldn't wait to get back in the dark alley where she could thoroughly enjoy her lollipop stick. No one would understand her unrestrained pleasure of sucking a lollipop, and it should have been done in privacy. Reaching the alley, she spotted an area of garbage cans a short distance away. This might have been the perfect place to hide and suck the lollipop stick.
With the candy in her mouth she ran the distance, all the while her naked and free tits bouncing up and down under the shirt, and panty-less ass jiggling under her shorts. Lana finally reached the garbage cans and rested her ass on one of them. Still breathing heavily from running, she held the lollipop stick with both hands and then lowered her mouth over it.
Down and up... Down and up... Lana took that lollipop stick deep in her mouth! Sometimes she would softly moan as the sweet flavor of cherry burst through her taste buds. Lana's sexy lips turned cherry-red from all of that sucking. But wouldn't you know it? While enjoying that lollipop with such unrestrained pleasure, the mental image of the stranger's penis flashed in her head! It just hung there, waiting for her—waiting for Lana to wrap her warm lips around it for some beautiful sucking. In that moment while sucking the lollipop stick, it was difficult for Lana not to imagine the stranger's dick all stiff and hard while being sucked by her sexy mouth.
She had to get that dick out of her head! What was wrong with Lana? Did she have some sort of cock fetish? Maybe a stranger telepathically hijacked Lana's brain and was making her fantasize of his hot, hard dick and the uncontrollable urge to suck it. In fact, he was probably even nearby, watching Lana in her unrestrained pleasure with the lollipop stick, waiting to finally surprise her.
Nonsense! Lana continued to suck and suck the candy. Although it was so good, there was something missing. It was almost as-if the lollipop didn't satisfy her craving to suck on candy. And for some reason, she undid her shorts to start fingering her wet, steamy pussy. What could masturbation possibly have to do with a lollipop stick?
"Well, well; what do we have here?"
Lana was startled at the sudden voice and looked up. There, some feet before her, was a naked man with cock hanging down. She had seen that cock before. A second after this double take, she realized that it was the same dick seen in her dream.
"Hey there little girl. Do you want some candy? Are you looking for something a little more intense?" The naked man's voice was the same voice heard in the dream.
This was strange! Somehow the stranger telepathically guided Lana out into the night in search of a dick to suck. But Lana was not that sort of girl and definitely not into the kinky things that Mr. Naked was into.
She backed away as he continued to approach. "Keep away! You keep away from me!"
The stranger smiled, "Come-on, baby. I just want to give you some of that candy you need. What do you say?"
"NO!" Lana shouted.
It was a cue for the stranger to lunge forward and seize Lana. She let out a split-second scream, but her mouth was quickly restrained. The only chance Lana had to get away was to fight. But the stranger was too strong as he dragged her into the alley.
For the first time since sitting down to enjoy her lollipop stick, Lana noticed that a dark van was parked next to a nearby building. Apparently this belonged to the stranger as he opened the back door and pushed Lana in. He quickly jumped in behind her and shut the door. Lana was now alone with a naked stranger in the back of a van!
She let out screams while the stranger wrestled and pulled off her t-shirt. But no one would hear her in a closed-up van that just so happened to be parked in a dark alley late at night. What was Lana doing there? She should have been at home and in bed. Perhaps if Lana hadn't been walking the dark alley and dressed like a street woman looking for sex, she wouldn't have ended up in van to be raped.
T-shirt finally off, Lana's big tits were exposed. The stranger took great delight in staring at them. Those tits were fucking amazing!
For some strange reason, Lana glanced down in that moment towards the stranger's dick and noticed that it was swelling out of apparent excitement. What was he going to do to her with that thing? Hopefully he wouldn't touch her with it, or make her suck it!
Lana had no choice but to fight for her life. She screamed, slapped and scratched her attacker. But the naked stranger only appeared to enjoy it all the more as evidenced by his dick get bigger and harder by the second. After all, it's such a turn on to see huge, fucking tits flopping around while a woman aggressively resists sex.
"I knew you were going to do this!" commented the naked stranger. "You wanted my dick so bad, but I knew you would fight me off. That's why I brought this." The stranger reached for a roll of duct tape in the front seat. Before Lana realized what happened, her arms were held behind as the tape unrolled and bound them together. The stranger wrapped from the wrist up to the elbows. Now there was no way for Lana to resist with her arms.
The only natural defense was to try and kick; kick towards that hard dick and hope to nail the balls. But Lana's aim wasn't so great. Instead the side of her foot brushed the head of the stranger's cock.
"What? You like touching it? Is this thing driving you crazy? You want some of it?"
Lana squatted to the ground in a final moment of defense. But the stranger joined her by straddling over. Since Lana lacked control of her arms, she soon lost her balance and fell into the corner. And that's where the naked stranger finally had a chance to assault her with his big, hard dick.
He took hold of both Lana's tits and slid his sausage in-between her cleavage. If Lana didn't know any better, she was beginning to enjoy the assault. For over an hour Lana had this stranger's dick on her mind. Now it grew raging stiff while fucking her big, sexy tits. He pumped and fucked as-if to tear those naked tits apart. And that’s what you do to a dirty street woman with big, sexy, naked tits! You abuse the fuck out of them with your raging, hard cock!
The stranger pulled his cock out from between Lana's cleavage and guided it towards her face. "You want some of this?" He bounced his swollen dick on her forehead. Then he slapped the right side of Lana's face with it. "You like that, don't you?"
"Lana didn't say a word, only looked back up that stranger who seemed to enjoy slapping her with his dick."
He slapped her more with it; this time bouncing his hard cock off Lana's face from side-to-side, sometimes smacking her lips with it. Although Lana was being treated like nothing more than some cheap, dirty street woman whose face was being abused by a stranger's dick, she actually opened her lips some and hoped that her assaulter would slide his dick in.
"What's this?" the stranger whispered. "You want some candy?" "Stick out your tongue... that's it..."
Lana partially extended her tongue to expose the tip just barely over the lips. The glans of the stranger's cock rested on top. For the first time, Lana got to taste it.
"Go ahead, lick it." suggested the stranger.
Lana stuck her tongue out more and gave the head of the stranger's cock a nice lollipop-lick. His head was so warm and swollen, nearly buzzing and throbbing with excitement. It definitely needed to be in Lana's mouth.
And then without warning, the stranger pushed it in! It was such a shock that Lana's eyes nearly bulged out. The sizzling cock meat stuffed and filled her mouth as the naked stranger did natural fuck motions. Most women gag and choke when the head of a cock is forced down the throat. But not Lana! She relaxed her mouth and throat while tasting every inch of excited, throbbing dick. He drove it so deep, sometimes, that it blocked the back of Lana’s throat which momentarily prevented her from breathing. With heart racing from overwhelming cock excitement, Lana could only hope the stranger would pull it out for a moment so she can get some air. For some several seconds he pumped and buried the bulging head of his cock in Lana’s throat—such a savage, fucking animal!
And then he yanked it out! The quick removal sounded like a cork being pulled from a bottle of wine. Lana finally exhaled and inhaled as-if coming up from the water for air.
“Oh, you haven’t seen anything, yet!” warned the stranger. “I’m not done with you! Wait until you see what I have for you!”
Lana looked up with a concerned look; her mascara running down the sides of her eyes, beads of sweat pouring from the forehead and drool outlining the lips. What was he going to do? What brutal act did the stranger have in store for Lana that involved sucking his raging, hard cock?
The stranger reached for a sealed Zip Lock bag of some powdery substance. “This is a bag of grinded-up cinnamon red hearts.” He opened the bag and stuck his hard dick in. The powdered red hearts coated the stranger’s cock. “Now this is the candy you’re looking for, so sweet and hot. It’ll drive you nuts. And you’ll be crying out for more!”
Despite how scary that dick looked with hot and spicy rubbed all over it, Lana eagerly opened her mouth and let the stranger slip his cock inside.  At first only a bit past the head was pushed in.
“Suck it!” ordered the stranger
Lana did so with pleasure, tasting the hot cinnamon—so sexy. But after about 30 seconds, the red, hot cinnamon was a little overwhelming. But the stranger didn’t care! He pushed more of his hard cock in her mouth. And just to make sure he fed her with more cinnamon, the stranger fucked those lips like it belonged to a dirty street woman who needed her mouth washed out with spicy, hot dick.
Gobs of cinnamon juice ran down Lana’s throat. The taste caused her mouth to water like never before. In fact, her mouth felt like it was on fire! As Lana’s mouth received the fucking of its life, she squatted with back propped against the van’s wall and eyes closed while moaning and whimpering when possible. Sometimes the stranger’s dick pushed to the back of her throat. His shaven scrotum slapped against Lana’s chin.
After some time, Lana had no sensation in her mouth or surrounding areas. Upon looking at her; one would notice that Lana’s lips had become swollen; face turned beat red along and the same with her ears. She cried out of the frightening pleasure from such a brutal face-fuck.
How much sucking and slurping does it take to get to the center of a raging, hot, hard cinnamon dick? Lana wasn’t really counting. She couldn’t even think! But in the end, the stranger gave her a real surprise: a mouthful of his hot, creamy, cinnamon-flavored cum. She swallowed every bit of it the way any dirty street woman should.