Rudy Has Been Home, Things Are Settling

I got him home a few days after my last post and things are back to where they should be. Thank goodness!

I am working on my vore fiction. Don;t worry- some poor women will get gulped down and digested ALIVE for your viewing pleasure, never fear 🙂

Anne

p.s. Thank you all for caring! Wubs ya!

When I Try, The Universe Smacks Me Back Down

I was just getting back into the groove of being back from my sabbatical and last weekend I had to put my husband back into the hospital. Fuck. We had gone out to dinner and when we got back he was feeling shaky and not right.

So middle of the night I have to call 911 and the ambulance people come and take away my husband again.

He’s going to be okay, his potassium just bottomed out (to the point where anyone else would be dead, but he’s ornery like that). He’s been on I.V. potassium and other fluids what come out of plastic bags. He’ll be coming home any time now, so it;s not the end of the world, but last weekend I didn’t know that. It felt, once again, like the universe was just smacking me down because everything was feeling ok.

I’m getting back into it. Loksley, I’m so sorry but I just haven’t been able to come online since then. I’ll be back soon- i want to talk to you!!!

Luv ya all

Anne

I Have Hopes And Dreams Of Being An Actual Dead-Tree Writer.

And so every once in a while, I inflict upon you, my captive audience (the gag in the young woman’s mouth  is almost choking her, and the ropes binding her arms and legs are tight enough to cut off circulation dangerously), my attempts to write things that aren’t vore related. Last post was something that had popped into my head a night or two back and I decided to actually write it down instead of slowly forgetting it (as I do to 99% of all my story ideas).

And this, my readers, my captive audience (she runs the tip of her finger along the jawline of the tied down woman, smiling as her captive flinches away from the touch), is an idea that I like. I’ve expanded the idea of the skystone blade story to become a full prologue to a larger work. It still involves the skystone blade, but poor Tambelin and Fimbur are sadly no longer present, having caught a terminal case of bloody death.

I may inflict upon you some more of this story as I go along (she said, unzipping her skintight black leather trousers. She wears nothing underneath, and her pubic hair has been shaved clean. She walks to to the tied down woman and lifts her leg, straddling the woman. Her crotch, lips glistening with moisture, is above the woman’s terrified face), but don’t worry. I understand that this blog is not the proper place for a story such as this 🙂

But it might be the proper place for a story such as this… …and as the door swings shut, the last we see of the kidnapped hitchhiker and the speaker is this: reaching down a hand and spreading herself gaping, she lowers herself over the gagged mouth and desperately breathing nose- and begins to ride the woman’s face, pleasuring herself with the air deprived struggles of her captive audience…

…Click.

“There’s been nothing to do this time,” groused Tambelin.

“I had my sword made special for this, a block of skystone fallen last midwinter. It hasn’t been blooded and I’m bored.”

“Bored,” grunted Fimbur, swinging a leg over the back of his horse. “Beg for boredom, lad. Three year back I were on an expedition to the Wrak Maredon Mines, sent by Tarn Kaazlin. We were deep in the mines and one of the boys said something just like that, about being bored.

“That were when out of the black of one of the mine mouths came a gigantic corpse white hand, big as a horse, and grabbed the boy. He didn’t have time to make much more than a squacking sound before the hand vanished back into the darkness and the sounds after that were horrible, lad. All wet noises, and the popping of bone as the thing ate him like you’d eat an apple- bite by tearing bite. I still hear it in my nightmares.

“Beg for boredom, lad, and don’t tempt fate or the gods by begging for action- you’re likely to get it.” And with that, Fimbur spurred his horse forward, leaving the white faced Tambelin behind.

Don’t Feed The Troll, He’ll Self-Destruct On His Own

You aren’t even a very good troll, either Oh sure, you riled everyone up and you got them to comment to you in my defense (Thank you everyone! *Kiss* You are all very sweet!) but you are so over the top you lose all your sting. Self-parody indeed

For all of you that read my blog, no fear: my children have no idea I’m a voreaphiliac. I keep my sex life away from my kids, just like your are supposed to do as a responsible adult. Sadly, they have to watch their father get sicker and sicker and they all know he’s going to die sooner than any of us want.

I wish my life was all lies- trust me, I’d much much rather be living a life of luxury and have had everything handed to me on a silver platter! But it’s all reality, more’s the pity- from the sexual abuse I suffered as a child, to my alcoholism, my overdose that almost killed me a few years back and everything in between and the shit that still happens even today.

As for the sudden unplanned sabbatical of the past couple of months- terribly, terribly sorry everyone. Life just got so utterly overwhelming that I basically shut down. Lately I’ve been trying hard to get back into everything again- I’m back online, I’m available for chat again, I’ve even been writing (Don’t worry everyone- Maeve is going to have something terrible happen to her that she doesn’t deserve ).

So no fear. I am alive and well and you’ll be seeing me a lot more than you have of late. Thank you all very much for caring- I love you all (minus a few sad, pathetic trolls )!

Anne