Downtime - A short story

Aroukar

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America
Harry turned his car unto Tisdale avenue again. He'd already been prowling that street for hours now, looking for an easy mark. He took a last chug of the Heineken before tossing it out the window. He wasn't worried; there wasn't anybody on the street during the middle of a school day. Still, he waited. For something.

When he was more than halfway down the road, he saw it. Opportunity calling. Finally. He thought to himself, relieved that all this prowling hadn't been for nothing. A beige colored minivan was pulling into a driveway a few houses behind him. A blonde woman in her thirties stepped out and began to unload groceries. "Well it's now or never, I guess." He said to his reflection in the rearview mirror. He left the street, parked a few blocks away and got ready. He dressed up in an SS officer's sacred vestments, making sure his cap was perfectly aligned on top of his short curly, red hair. He then picked up his equipment from the passenger seat and jogged casually back on Tisdale.

The woman, who was called Mrs. Sullivan was almost done with the groceries. She had just put down the last few bags on her kitchen counter, when she was grabbed from behind. Before she had a chance to cry out, she was smothered with chloroform and fell unconscious.

Pleased, that everything had gone according to plan, Harry locked down the minivan and the front door behind him, before attending to his quarry. He carried the unconscious woman to the basement, and dropped her near a bare cement wall. He began to set up: He unrolled an enormous canvas and taped it to the wall, then he removed all of Mrs. Sullivan's clothing, exposing a curvaceous body that did not belong on a mother of two. Nodding with satisfaction, he brought out the duct tape. He tapped her hands behind her back and taped her mouth shut.

He saw that she was stirring; he knew she would wake soon, and he hurried. He sat her with her back against the canvas, and brought out the paint set. Finally he opened his briefcase and pulled out the horse-sized strap-on, shuddering with excitement at the thought of what it would accomplish. He sat down on a stool opposite her and waited.

When Mrs. Sullivan awoke she first felt the cold of the concrete basement floor on her buttcheeks. Then as she gained clarity, she became aware of the person quietly observing her. A red-haired, short, African-American dressed in a Nazi uniform was watching her with a bored expression as he scratched his chin with a Luger. It's a ginger. She was bewildered. It's a nazi ginger nigger. She was befuddled. Due to the tape on her mouth she could only moan out her incredulousness.

"Quiet you!" Harry barked. The woman complied readily enough. "I'm gonna need you to contribute to the war effort. The Fifth Reich will rise. But first things first." With that said he leapt gracefully off the stool and landed right at the woman's feet. Mrs. Sullivan was impressed, despite her fear. With a strength unbefiting his size, Harry pulled Mrs. Sullivan to her feet. "Don't move. He hissed. He turned around and grabbed the paint set. With a thick brush, he applied a generous amount of verdant green to her left breast, and without bothering to clean the brush, a mix of the former and firehouse red to her right breast. He turned around and repeated the process with her asscheeks, only this time with dandelion yellow and magenta.

When he was finished, he stepped and examined his work. Nodding with satisfaction, he said the following quietly: "Paint." Mrs. Sullivan didn't hear him, but Harry suddenly repeated himself. "Paint you bitch!" He yelled firing a shot that ricocheted off in the corner of the basement. Without any further instructions, Mrs. Sullivan rolled around the canvas on the wall, sometimes gyrating her ass and tits in circles, other times in more linear directions. After about 10 minutes of this, she was beginning to sweat and get tired. Luckily for her, the painting was finished. With a gentle tug, she was pulled off the wall and Harry had thoughtfully put a towel on the stool so she could sit and rest.

While Mrs. Sullivan was doing her best to pant through the thick tape, Harry was examining the canvas. It had been produced in a frenzy of fear, but he was sure that he could see the touch of a true artist in each and every stroke. Admirers of Jackson Pollock's work would surely turn green with envy if only they could behold this masterpiece. Well, it was almost a masterpiece. It still needed some finishing touches. After a few more moments of morose introspection, Harry turned on Mrs. Sullivan once again.

"Time for part two bitch! Oh, you're gonna love this!" He promised through gleaming, straight, white teeth. He pulled Mrs. Sullivan to her feet, and got behind her. "Open your legs." He commanded. She was frozen in fear, until he slapped her ass, hard enough to redden it. "Open your fucking legs woman!" Crying, Mrs. Sullivan spread her legs expecting to get raped. Instead she found herself being fitted with a leather strapon, featuring a rubber horsecock over her crotch. She was positioned facing the canvas and left waiting. In a few moments, Harry returned with a bench which he placed in front of the woman.

Pulling down his elegant dress pants, he exposed his glistening asshole and thick dangling balls and dick to Mrs. Sullivan. He climbed the bench and positioned the tip of the horsecock on the rosebud of his anus. "Get to it woman, unless you want another spanking!" He terrorized her. Crying, Mrs. Sullivan did as she was asked and shoved it all in one go. Sighing with relief as he gave himself a handjob, Harry thought. Finally some fucking downtime.

With her hands tied behind her back, Mrs. Sullivan did her best, resulting in jerky uncoordinated thrusts. To Harry it mattered not. It's art for fuck's sake! No need to over think it. He moaned and groaned as he quickly approached orgasm. Right on the brink, he gasped. "Quick, pull it out!" With an exasperated grunt, Mrs. Sullivan pulled out, inadvertently also pulling out about 6 inches of prolapsed intestines. Regardless, Harry came as soon as the wet texture of his guts slapped his nutsack. A copious amount of semen sprayed out of his hose, liberally coating the canvas. "It's perfect." Harry said weakly. A river of blood began to splatter on the floor to Mrs. Sullivan's alarm.

With the last of his strength, Harry staggered to the front of the canvas. He turned around and faced Mrs. Sullivan, whose eyes were wide with fear. He pointed the Luger at her, laughing at her response before pushing the barrel of the gun up his nostril and pressing the trigger. A good collaborative art piece. Shame that the world will have to do without me... Was the last thought that he ever had.

The end.
 
Joined
Oct 20, 2019
Messages
705
tl;dr It sucks.


"When Mrs. Sullivan awoke she first felt the cold of the concrete basement floor on her buttcheeks. "
Oddly phrased. And there are some other issues.

Narrative is clunky. Choose a point of view and stick with it. You try 3rd person omnipresent but really clunkafy it by trying to introduce perceptions or insight of the narrator into the scene. And the image/scene is not planned out or revealed in an efficent manner. For example:
"The woman, who was called Mrs. Sullivan was almost done with the groceries. She had just put down the last few bags on her kitchen counter, when she was grabbed from behind. Before she had a chance to cry out, she was smothered with chloroform and fell unconscious. "

Mrs. implies woman, unless Mrs. Sullivan is a trannie, which of course you should tell us. Try to be more descriptive, example: "While Mrs. Sullivan was placing the last of her groceries on the counter, she was overpowered. She struggled to cry out but the chloroform soaked rag muffled her desperate cries for help and soon fell unconscious. "

Suggestions:
You could go one of two ways with this, I only read a small portion of it because it's so disjointed and there's no real meat to it.
Expand it to give the reader the motivation for Harry's desire to force this woman to paint at gunpoint. Which is going to be a difficult sell.

Or condense it. Flash fiction. Cut out the back story and begin with Mrs. Sullivan nervously painting at gunpoint.

Lastly, I know cursing is the "in thing." Because it's cool and edgy. But it's so over done it's lame. Generally, when I was learning to write, I was told there was no need for foul language -- period. It's more powerful writing if you can convey the frustration, anger, terror etc., without using vulgarity. Not to say you CAN'T use vulgarity, but to use it to anchor a realistic response. (to use it as sort of like you would an exclamation point.) It gets tiresome very quickly.

Example:
"Hey what FUCK are you doing?!" @Baka yelled.
@dropdatwat screamed back, "What the fuck you want?! I'M POSTING PICTURES OF MY GOD DAMN penis FEMCEL!!"
"You're a massive fucking faggot!"
"Fuck you! You're just butthurt because I've got a 6000 on my SAT's!"
"NO YOU!!! AND YOUR SHITTY bebe pene!"
"NO YOU! 2015 Tri-county Dishwasher of the year 3rd Quarter!"
"I'm SAVING ALL YOUR PENI PICS!"
"Dream on! @Baka ! I'm TOTALLY GAY!"
"So AM I @dropdatwat !!"
"Why are you frigging it to MY FUCKING DICK THEN?!"
"CORRECTION!! I'M FRIGGING IT TO YOUR SHITTY SHREK PENE!"
"FUCKING FAIR ENOUGH!!"
"FAGGOT!!"
"YOU TOP OUT AT THE MINIMUM FUCKING WAGE!"
"FUCKING JOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!
 

northernjanus

litty like a titty
Joined
Oct 17, 2019
Messages
687
Location
canuck
tl;dr It sucks.


"When Mrs. Sullivan awoke she first felt the cold of the concrete basement floor on her buttcheeks. "
Oddly phrased. And there are some other issues.

Narrative is clunky. Choose a point of view and stick with it. You try 3rd person omnipresent but really clunkafy it by trying to introduce perceptions or insight of the narrator into the scene. And the image/scene is not planned out or revealed in an efficent manner. For example:
"The woman, who was called Mrs. Sullivan was almost done with the groceries. She had just put down the last few bags on her kitchen counter, when she was grabbed from behind. Before she had a chance to cry out, she was smothered with chloroform and fell unconscious. "

Mrs. implies woman, unless Mrs. Sullivan is a trannie, which of course you should tell us. Try to be more descriptive, example: "While Mrs. Sullivan was placing the last of her groceries on the counter, she was overpowered. She struggled to cry out but the chloroform soaked rag muffled her desperate cries for help and soon fell unconscious. "

Suggestions:
You could go one of two ways with this, I only read a small portion of it because it's so disjointed and there's no real meat to it.
Expand it to give the reader the motivation for Harry's desire to force this woman to paint at gunpoint. Which is going to be a difficult sell.

Or condense it. Flash fiction. Cut out the back story and begin with Mrs. Sullivan nervously painting at gunpoint.

Lastly, I know cursing is the "in thing." Because it's cool and edgy. But it's so over done it's lame. Generally, when I was learning to write, I was told there was no need for foul language -- period. It's more powerful writing if you can convey the frustration, anger, terror etc., without using vulgarity. Not to say you CAN'T use vulgarity, but to use it to anchor a realistic response. (to use it as sort of like you would an exclamation point.) It gets tiresome very quickly.

Example:
"Hey what FUCK are you doing?!" @Baka yelled.
@dropdatwat screamed back, "What the fuck you want?! I'M POSTING PICTURES OF MY GOD DAMN penis FEMCEL!!"
"You're a massive fucking faggot!"
"Fuck you! You're just butthurt because I've got a 6000 on my SAT's!"
"NO YOU!!! AND YOUR SHITTY bebe pene!"
"NO YOU! 2015 Tri-county Dishwasher of the year 3rd Quarter!"
"I'm SAVING ALL YOUR PENI PICS!"
"Dream on! @Baka ! I'm TOTALLY GAY!"
"So AM I @dropdatwat !!"
"Why are you frigging it to MY FUCKING DICK THEN?!"
"CORRECTION!! I'M FRIGGING IT TO YOUR SHITTY SHREK PENE!"
"FUCKING FAIR ENOUGH!!"
"FAGGOT!!"
"YOU TOP OUT AT THE MINIMUM FUCKING WAGE!"
"FUCKING JOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!
New york times best seller right here
 

Helenavqm

BANNED LOL
Joined
Nov 3, 2019
Messages
10
Where is administration?
It is about advertisement on your website.
Regards.
 

Aroukar

EDF Elite
Joined
Mar 12, 2012
Messages
4,055
Location
America
tl;dr It sucks.


"When Mrs. Sullivan awoke she first felt the cold of the concrete basement floor on her buttcheeks. "
Oddly phrased. And there are some other issues.

Narrative is clunky. Choose a point of view and stick with it. You try 3rd person omnipresent but really clunkafy it by trying to introduce perceptions or insight of the narrator into the scene. And the image/scene is not planned out or revealed in an efficent manner. For example:
"The woman, who was called Mrs. Sullivan was almost done with the groceries. She had just put down the last few bags on her kitchen counter, when she was grabbed from behind. Before she had a chance to cry out, she was smothered with chloroform and fell unconscious. "

Mrs. implies woman, unless Mrs. Sullivan is a trannie, which of course you should tell us. Try to be more descriptive, example: "While Mrs. Sullivan was placing the last of her groceries on the counter, she was overpowered. She struggled to cry out but the chloroform soaked rag muffled her desperate cries for help and soon fell unconscious. "

Suggestions:
You could go one of two ways with this, I only read a small portion of it because it's so disjointed and there's no real meat to it.
Expand it to give the reader the motivation for Harry's desire to force this woman to paint at gunpoint. Which is going to be a difficult sell.

Or condense it. Flash fiction. Cut out the back story and begin with Mrs. Sullivan nervously painting at gunpoint.

Lastly, I know cursing is the "in thing." Because it's cool and edgy. But it's so over done it's lame. Generally, when I was learning to write, I was told there was no need for foul language -- period. It's more powerful writing if you can convey the frustration, anger, terror etc., without using vulgarity. Not to say you CAN'T use vulgarity, but to use it to anchor a realistic response. (to use it as sort of like you would an exclamation point.) It gets tiresome very quickly.

Example:
"Hey what FUCK are you doing?!" @Baka yelled.
@dropdatwat screamed back, "What the fuck you want?! I'M POSTING PICTURES OF MY GOD DAMN penis FEMCEL!!"
"You're a massive fucking faggot!"
"Fuck you! You're just butthurt because I've got a 6000 on my SAT's!"
"NO YOU!!! AND YOUR SHITTY bebe pene!"
"NO YOU! 2015 Tri-county Dishwasher of the year 3rd Quarter!"
"I'm SAVING ALL YOUR PENI PICS!"
"Dream on! @Baka ! I'm TOTALLY GAY!"
"So AM I @dropdatwat !!"
"Why are you frigging it to MY FUCKING DICK THEN?!"
"CORRECTION!! I'M FRIGGING IT TO YOUR SHITTY SHREK PENE!"
"FUCKING FAIR ENOUGH!!"
"FAGGOT!!"
"YOU TOP OUT AT THE MINIMUM FUCKING WAGE!"
"FUCKING JOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!
Thank you for the input.
 

Aroukar

EDF Elite
Joined
Mar 12, 2012
Messages
4,055
Location
America
tl;dr It sucks.


"When Mrs. Sullivan awoke she first felt the cold of the concrete basement floor on her buttcheeks. "
Oddly phrased. And there are some other issues.

Narrative is clunky. Choose a point of view and stick with it. You try 3rd person omnipresent but really clunkafy it by trying to introduce perceptions or insight of the narrator into the scene. And the image/scene is not planned out or revealed in an efficent manner. For example:
"The woman, who was called Mrs. Sullivan was almost done with the groceries. She had just put down the last few bags on her kitchen counter, when she was grabbed from behind. Before she had a chance to cry out, she was smothered with chloroform and fell unconscious. "
Sorry to bother you once again. I had time to broadly consider your observations. I have a problem maintaining "narrator focus" if that makes sense. You addressed this when talking about my shifting point of view; I know you gave enough advice on it already but can you zero in on how to sustain a narrative style? Third person omnipresent for example?
 
Last edited:
Joined
Oct 20, 2019
Messages
705
Sorry to bother you once again. I had time to broadly consider your observations. I have a problem maintaining "narrator focus" if that makes sense. You addressed this when talking about my shifting point of view; I know you gave enough advice on it already but can you zero in on how to sustain a narrative style? Third person omnipresent for example?
I recommend this book if you want to seriously work on what could be a enjoyable hobby or possibly a career. Chapter 9, "Point of View," p. 171 will explain all the different choices you have in narrating the story.


aaa.PNG


It was and is a textbook used in my Creative Writing course. My Community college puts together a collection of student poems and stories every year and every year the publication wins either National first place or regional first place every single year. I don't think that's an accident.

** About narration or narrative focus. ***
As an author. ooooOOOOOOOooooo look at you now yOUr an AuTHoR ooooOOOOOoooooo
No, but seriously, as an author you have the control. Think of how you perceive things in the world. What catches your eye first and then how your field of vision expands from that one thing. For example if a child or animal is in trouble and they are crying out, first you hear the cry, (note that in your narrative "I heard a child punctuating it's sobbing with shrieks of pain and panic.") Then from that point you pan out. "I ran towards the crying child and saw he/she had broken his/her leg//skinned his/her knee//a dog had bit him/her and was still growling at him/her."
See that's the way you normally see or interact with the world. Make mental notes on how you enter a room. "Nervous and armed with my little league baseball bat, I blindly flicked on the light. Stifling a gasp of shock, I saw a man in a dark suit seated on my worn grey couch and he had the biggest pistol I've ever seen and it was pointed right at me."

You have to focus the direction and interest of the reader. You are taking him or her by the hand and pointing things out. Things or actions that you want weight or extra weight are often placed at the end of a sentence or paragraph.

That creates a natural draw and interest. Try to introduce things using this formula: "ho hum, normal everyday stuff, something a little off but of no concern, then a whoa wait scenario, and finally a AWW FUCK NOW WHAT FRESH HELL IS THIS." This type of model can also be used as a template for your story. And if you think of your favorite story that's the way it's laid out. It may not be as linear as the example I presented but it's there.

***
The woman, who was called Mrs. Sullivan was almost done with the groceries. She had just put down the last few bags on her kitchen counter, when she was grabbed from behind. Before she had a chance to cry out, she was smothered with chloroform and fell unconscious.
**
When you are describing things which are generally known to be true, a person who goes by "Mrs. Sullivan," UNLESS she's a trannie you don't have to tell the reader that Mrs. Sullivan is a woman. See how that's redundant? Redundancy of everyday details will bore your reader, and a bored reader will tell you very quickly "fuck you," by putting down your writing and never reading ANYTHING you write ever again. Yeah, think about that for a sec, for an author that's the biggest "fuck you," you can get.

I felt that this was weak because you are too casual with your narration. Story telling is actually quite formal. If you want a more casual feel to it, then you have to use dialogue. However, there is GOOD direction in these lines. "Normal everyday ho-hum stuff then attacked and rendered unconscious in your own home. (FUCK AN A DUDE THAT'S TERRIFYING!)

However you break that pattern and try to go from specific to general, which you can also do. But you lose your clear direction. Your narration seems to be less focused.
***
When Mrs. Sullivan awoke she first felt the cold of the concrete basement floor on her buttcheeks. Then as she gained clarity, she became aware of the person quietly observing her. A red-haired, short, African-American dressed in a Nazi uniform was watching her with a bored expression as he scratched his chin with a Luger. It's a ginger. She was bewildered. It's a nazi ginger nigger. She was befuddled. Due to the tape on her mouth she could only moan out her incredulousness.
**
Mrs Sullivan wakes to something very specific, cold concrete. She's groggy, you tell me she's bewildered and then befuddled and THEN she moans out her gagged unbelief? **Why doesn't she run away, she's not tied up.** That's what I mean that you jump around in your narration. You presume the reader will fill in the details and the details seemed to be place in random order to "overshock the reader." No. It doesn't work. You bring in the sense of cold concrete which is good. Expand on experiences the character would feel other than visual as Mrs Sullivan regains her senses.

Lastly, if you write another piece of deviantart ghey Nazi porn for the sole reason to write the word "nigger" again, I will not read it.

Cheers.
 
Last edited:

Aroukar

EDF Elite
Joined
Mar 12, 2012
Messages
4,055
Location
America
I recommend this book if you want to seriously work on what could be a enjoyable hobby or possibly a career. Chapter 9, "Point of View," p. 171 will explain all the different choices you have in narrating the story.


View attachment 85753

It was and is a textbook used in my Creative Writing course. My Community college puts together a collection of student poems and stories every year and every year the publication wins either National first place or regional first place every single year. I don't think that's an accident.

** About narration or narrative focus. ***
As an author. ooooOOOOOOOooooo look at you now yOUr an AuTHoR ooooOOOOOoooooo
No, but seriously, as an author you have the control. Think of how you perceive things in the world. What catches your eye first and then how your field of vision expands from that one thing. For example if a child or animal is in trouble and they are crying out, first you hear the cry, (note that in your narrative "I heard a child punctuating it's sobbing with shrieks of pain and panic.") Then from that point you pan out. "I ran towards the crying child and saw he/she had broken his/her leg//skinned his/her knee//a dog had bit him/her and was still growling at him/her."
See that's the way you normally see or interact with the world. Make mental notes on how you enter a room. "Nervous and armed with my little league baseball bat, I blindly flicked on the light. Stifling a gasp of shock, I saw a man in a dark suit seated on my worn grey couch and he had the biggest pistol I've ever seen and it was pointed right at me."

You have to focus the direction and interest of the reader. You are taking him or her by the hand and pointing things out. Things or actions that you want weight or extra weight are often placed at the end of a sentence or paragraph.

That creates a natural draw and interest. Try to introduce things using this formula: "ho hum, normal everyday stuff, something a little off but of no concern, then a whoa wait scenario, and finally a AWW FUCK NOW WHAT FRESH HELL IS THIS." This type of model can also be used as a template for your story. And if you think of your favorite story that's the way it's laid out. It may not be as linear as the example I presented but it's there.

***
The woman, who was called Mrs. Sullivan was almost done with the groceries. She had just put down the last few bags on her kitchen counter, when she was grabbed from behind. Before she had a chance to cry out, she was smothered with chloroform and fell unconscious.
**
When you are describing things which are generally known to be true, a person who goes by "Mrs. Sullivan," UNLESS she's a trannie you don't have to tell the reader that Mrs. Sullivan is a woman. See how that's redundant? Redundancy of everyday details will bore your reader, and a bored reader will tell you very quickly "fuck you," by putting down your writing and never reading ANYTHING you write ever again. Yeah, think about that for a sec, for an author that's the biggest "fuck you," you can get.

I felt that this was weak because you are too casual with your narration. Story telling is actually quite formal. If you want a more casual feel to it, then you have to use dialogue. However, there is GOOD direction in these lines. "Normal everyday ho-hum stuff then attacked and rendered unconscious in your own home. (FUCK AN A DUDE THAT'S TERRIFYING!)

However you break that pattern and try to go from specific to general, which you can also do. But you lose your clear direction. Your narration seems to be less focused.
***
When Mrs. Sullivan awoke she first felt the cold of the concrete basement floor on her buttcheeks. Then as she gained clarity, she became aware of the person quietly observing her. A red-haired, short, African-American dressed in a Nazi uniform was watching her with a bored expression as he scratched his chin with a Luger. It's a ginger. She was bewildered. It's a nazi ginger nigger. She was befuddled. Due to the tape on her mouth she could only moan out her incredulousness.
**
Mrs Sullivan wakes to something very specific, cold concrete. She's groggy, you tell me she's bewildered and then befuddled and THEN she moans out her gagged unbelief? **Why doesn't she run away, she's not tied up.** That's what I mean that you jump around in your narration. You presume the reader will fill in the details and the details seemed to be place in random order to "overshock the reader." No. It doesn't work. You bring in the sense of cold concrete which is good. Expand on experiences the character would feel other than visual as Mrs Sullivan regains her senses.

Lastly, if you write another piece of deviantart ghey Nazi porn for the sole reason to write the word "nigger" again, I will not read it.

Cheers.
Much obliged.
 

ASSBLONKER

UNCLE PHIL POOL HUSTLER
Joined
Nov 16, 2011
Messages
295
Thank you for the input.
THE PRICELESS INPUT OF A 50 YR OLD LOSER. THE BUILDING BLOCK OF ANY MAN'S CAREER! LOL

HERES SOME IMPUT : DONT POST 50 PAGES OF SHIT CUZ NOBODY WILL READ LO.L.... THERES SOME GENIUS 9 MILLION IQ TIP BUDDY LOL... I STILL LOVE U DNT WORRY, IM JST NOT GONNA READ UR FUCKEN LORD OF THE FLYS 3 MILLION PAGE ESSAY ON HOW THE WIND WAS HOWLING ON UR WAY TO STARBUKS

PEACE OUT BUDDY, 1 LOVE AND PRAISE ZION
 

Cassius Longinus

Clamato Destroyer
Joined
Feb 5, 2017
Messages
835
Location
Australia
Harry turned his car unto Tisdale avenue again. He'd already been prowling that street for hours now, looking for an easy mark. He took a last chug of the Heineken before tossing it out the window. He wasn't worried; there wasn't anybody on the street during the middle of a school day. Still, he waited. For something.

When he was more than halfway down the road, he saw it. Opportunity calling. Finally. He thought to himself, relieved that all this prowling hadn't been for nothing. A beige colored minivan was pulling into a driveway a few houses behind him. A blonde woman in her thirties stepped out and began to unload groceries. "Well it's now or never, I guess." He said to his reflection in the rearview mirror. He left the street, parked a few blocks away and got ready. He dressed up in an SS officer's sacred vestments, making sure his cap was perfectly aligned on top of his short curly, red hair. He then picked up his equipment from the passenger seat and jogged casually back on Tisdale.

The woman, who was called Mrs. Sullivan was almost done with the groceries. She had just put down the last few bags on her kitchen counter, when she was grabbed from behind. Before she had a chance to cry out, she was smothered with chloroform and fell unconscious.

Pleased, that everything had gone according to plan, Harry locked down the minivan and the front door behind him, before attending to his quarry. He carried the unconscious woman to the basement, and dropped her near a bare cement wall. He began to set up: He unrolled an enormous canvas and taped it to the wall, then he removed all of Mrs. Sullivan's clothing, exposing a curvaceous body that did not belong on a mother of two. Nodding with satisfaction, he brought out the duct tape. He tapped her hands behind her back and taped her mouth shut.

He saw that she was stirring; he knew she would wake soon, and he hurried. He sat her with her back against the canvas, and brought out the paint set. Finally he opened his briefcase and pulled out the horse-sized strap-on, shuddering with excitement at the thought of what it would accomplish. He sat down on a stool opposite her and waited.

When Mrs. Sullivan awoke she first felt the cold of the concrete basement floor on her buttcheeks. Then as she gained clarity, she became aware of the person quietly observing her. A red-haired, short, African-American dressed in a Nazi uniform was watching her with a bored expression as he scratched his chin with a Luger. It's a ginger. She was bewildered. It's a nazi ginger nigger. She was befuddled. Due to the tape on her mouth she could only moan out her incredulousness.

"Quiet you!" Harry barked. The woman complied readily enough. "I'm gonna need you to contribute to the war effort. The Fifth Reich will rise. But first things first." With that said he leapt gracefully off the stool and landed right at the woman's feet. Mrs. Sullivan was impressed, despite her fear. With a strength unbefiting his size, Harry pulled Mrs. Sullivan to her feet. "Don't move. He hissed. He turned around and grabbed the paint set. With a thick brush, he applied a generous amount of verdant green to her left breast, and without bothering to clean the brush, a mix of the former and firehouse red to her right breast. He turned around and repeated the process with her asscheeks, only this time with dandelion yellow and magenta.

When he was finished, he stepped and examined his work. Nodding with satisfaction, he said the following quietly: "Paint." Mrs. Sullivan didn't hear him, but Harry suddenly repeated himself. "Paint you bitch!" He yelled firing a shot that ricocheted off in the corner of the basement. Without any further instructions, Mrs. Sullivan rolled around the canvas on the wall, sometimes gyrating her ass and tits in circles, other times in more linear directions. After about 10 minutes of this, she was beginning to sweat and get tired. Luckily for her, the painting was finished. With a gentle tug, she was pulled off the wall and Harry had thoughtfully put a towel on the stool so she could sit and rest.

While Mrs. Sullivan was doing her best to pant through the thick tape, Harry was examining the canvas. It had been produced in a frenzy of fear, but he was sure that he could see the touch of a true artist in each and every stroke. Admirers of Jackson Pollock's work would surely turn green with envy if only they could behold this masterpiece. Well, it was almost a masterpiece. It still needed some finishing touches. After a few more moments of morose introspection, Harry turned on Mrs. Sullivan once again.

"Time for part two bitch! Oh, you're gonna love this!" He promised through gleaming, straight, white teeth. He pulled Mrs. Sullivan to her feet, and got behind her. "Open your legs." He commanded. She was frozen in fear, until he slapped her ass, hard enough to redden it. "Open your fucking legs woman!" Crying, Mrs. Sullivan spread her legs expecting to get raped. Instead she found herself being fitted with a leather strapon, featuring a rubber horsecock over her crotch. She was positioned facing the canvas and left waiting. In a few moments, Harry returned with a bench which he placed in front of the woman.

Pulling down his elegant dress pants, he exposed his glistening asshole and thick dangling balls and dick to Mrs. Sullivan. He climbed the bench and positioned the tip of the horsecock on the rosebud of his anus. "Get to it woman, unless you want another spanking!" He terrorized her. Crying, Mrs. Sullivan did as she was asked and shoved it all in one go. Sighing with relief as he gave himself a handjob, Harry thought. Finally some fucking downtime.

With her hands tied behind her back, Mrs. Sullivan did her best, resulting in jerky uncoordinated thrusts. To Harry it mattered not. It's art for fuck's sake! No need to over think it. He moaned and groaned as he quickly approached orgasm. Right on the brink, he gasped. "Quick, pull it out!" With an exasperated grunt, Mrs. Sullivan pulled out, inadvertently also pulling out about 6 inches of prolapsed intestines. Regardless, Harry came as soon as the wet texture of his guts slapped his nutsack. A copious amount of semen sprayed out of his hose, liberally coating the canvas. "It's perfect." Harry said weakly. A river of blood began to splatter on the floor to Mrs. Sullivan's alarm.

With the last of his strength, Harry staggered to the front of the canvas. He turned around and faced Mrs. Sullivan, whose eyes were wide with fear. He pointed the Luger at her, laughing at her response before pushing the barrel of the gun up his nostril and pressing the trigger. A good collaborative art piece. Shame that the world will have to do without me... Was the last thought that he ever had.

The end.
9/10 loved it. Please write a smutfic of Droppy and baka realising thier love for one another.
 
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