Copyright 2008 Sticky Pen. All Rights Reserved http://www.stickypen.com en-us Fri, 23 May 2008 12:10:30 -0400 webmaster@stickypen.com Fantasy http://www.stickypen.com/Stories/Fantasy/Hunger_1584 Fantasy Fri, 28 Jul 2006 09:15:07 -0400
One thousand and I didn't look a day over twenty-five. No wrinkles, no gray hairs. Just a few scars from a life long-passed. They were faded reminders of battles fought and won. Well, most of them had been won. The last? It was what put me here, on the road to eternal life. And eternal loneliness. In a thousand years, I've had countless lovers: peasants, nobles, stableboys, whores, even two kings. But none of them filled the void within me. Something was always missing, something vital that I couldn't quite put my finger on. By the year 2005, I had all but given up. Sitting in a dark windowseat, of an even darker house, I was contemplating suicide. My home was quiet enough for such introspection. There's a distinct advantage to people believing your home is haunted; an even bigger advantage when the city officials are too terrified to tear it down. Needing to feed only once a month left me plenty of time to think. And to play. My amusement of choice came in the form of fucking with the kids, the ones who dared each other to come close enough to look into the front bay window of the rotting, haunted Magnolia House. A fleeting glimpse of...something...would send them off. I could hear their screams two blocks away, and many times, I laughed until I hurt. The first time I realized I wasn't alone, I didn't know what to think. I felt the pull--an irresistible need to find out ...

Get The Full Story At Sticky Pen]]> http://www.stickypen.com/Stories/Fantasy/A-Noble-Roman_2050 Fantasy Wed, 27 Dec 2006 10:02:07 -0500
A NOBLE ROMAN (…dedicated to the men and women who wear the uniform of the United States Armed Forces, and who daily risk their lives all over the world to keep We The People free, so that we can be who and what we are and live our lives as we see fit…) I had taken a wrong turn in the ancient ruins at Bath, England, and I was lost, and separated from my tour group. I was down in the lowest part of the structure, by the pools, and I had been looking at some of the ancient Roman relics on display there. I was so fascinated that I did not notice that the tour group had moved on. I was entranced by the idea of seeing relics of peoples’ lives from literally thousands of years ago – people who were, essentially, just like me – who tried to live their lives as best they could, and who had their share of triumphs and successes, joys and tragedies, as we all have. And now, long after they had returned to the dust from whence we all come, I can view (and sometimes, surreptitiously touch) the stone doorframes of their houses, the marble couches on which they reclined to dine, and the monuments which their bereaved family and friends set up to mark their passing. The ...

Get The Full Story At Sticky Pen]]> http://www.stickypen.com/Stories/Fantasy/Lust-in-Space_2081 Fantasy Mon, 08 Jan 2007 08:55:08 -0500
The space freighter Serene Dawn had taken off for the planet Zeron 5, a journey that would take nearly one earth year to complete. Steve the skipper and Tony the navigator put the craft into warp drive, set the automatic control system and had started to relax. They took off their spacesuits and were just wearing tee shirts and little shorts. There was, however, an essential difference between the two crew members, Steve was human and Tony was an android. Androids looked exactly like humans, had human emotions and needs, the only difference was that they couldn't reproduce. For this reason amongst others, many male androids who worked closely with male humans developed feelings for the guys they worked with. The prospect of living at close quarters with Steve excited Tony from the moment that they met. Both had rugged good looks and superb bodies, and when Tony saw his skipper taking a shower just before the flight started, his circuits went into overdrive. He was determined to talk Steve into bed before the trip was out, and started sounding him out at the first opportunity. "Steve, have you ever had sex with a guy?" "No Tony, I'm not gay." " Well you don't have to be gay. I mean a lot of guys in prison get fucked, that doesn't mean their gay, just realistic. They know that there is no chance of any women, so they just make they best of it. We are stuck here together for the duration ...

Get The Full Story At Sticky Pen]]> http://www.stickypen.com/Stories/Fantasy/Ravenswood-III:-The-Box-of-Answers_2262 Fantasy Thu, 08 Mar 2007 11:17:48 -0500
Ravenswood: THE BOX OF ANSWERSHere, at last, the Box lay before him, beckoning to be touched, to be opened, ready to reveal to him secrets heretofore hidden by the sand of ages. An entire lifetime, longer, he had waited, craved for this very moment. Now, everything depended on this - his life, job, sanity. With the Box he could regain them and more. Another step closer now, his hand reached out, fingers almost brushing the intaglios hewn into the rose tinted ivory lid. Nothing was going to stop him from seeing what it held inside.1. LIKE THIS, BEFORE"Looking for something?"Startled and a tad embarrassed at getting caught noseying about in the hallways of Ravenswood Hotel, Sam found himself confronted by a hunk, shirtless and covered by little more than board shorts and a sheen of sweat. The stranger pulled his iPod earphones off and smiled at him. Whoa, as if that hard body wasn't enough to cause a minor meltdown, Sam thought before stammering a reply. "Uh, my room."With the knee-weakening smile still in place, the man glanced at the key Sam held. "207 is the other way. The stairs you came up from? Hang a right.""Thanks," Sam said, hoping he wasn't blushing, even as he tried to pull his gaze from below waist level where the low-slung shorts cut across the bottom row of clearly defined abdominal muscles. He gulped. Narrowing his sights back to the man's handsome face, Sam frowned. "This is going to sound really stupid, but have ...

Get The Full Story At Sticky Pen]]> http://www.stickypen.com/Stories/Fantasy/Warm-Welcome_2379 Fantasy Mon, 23 Apr 2007 10:45:58 -0400
Slender, with curly auburn hair and fair smooth skin, the goatherd stretched and yawned beneath the shade of the tree. As Thane rode across the stone bridge marking the entrance to the kingdom of Aquillus, his first sight was of the fabulous white walled city that served as the nation’s capitol. His second sight was of the handsome lad dozing while his herd munched idly on the grass. Thane’s sharp blue eyes looked him over. The goatherd was in his early twenties he judged. Lean and supple from a Spartan life carved out on the land. Thane himself was a virtual giant compared to the stripling. Six foot with a hard muscled torso, the warrior’s thick hair hung down to his strong shoulders and was the same pale blonde of his people, the wildmen of the Northern Tundra. His face was angular and coldly handsome with rich almost pouting lips and a sharp aquiline nose. His eyes glittered like the icy waters of his homeland. Years on the road had bronzed his skin and his torso was laid bare to the elements. His broadsword hung on his back and he wore dark breeches and tough leather boots. A wolfish smile crossed his lips. After six months hard slog alone in the Barren Wastes the goatherd was a welcome sight indeed.The first the lad knew that he was not alone was the dark shadow that passed over him. He opened his hazel ...

Get The Full Story At Sticky Pen]]> http://www.stickypen.com/Stories/Fantasy/Ravenswood:-Two_2226 Fantasy Mon, 26 Feb 2007 09:14:54 -0500
Ravenswood: TWO by Dwayne 1. PRIMUS "Have I been a naughty boy, officer?" From beneath the bright glare of the light in the interrogation room, the humpy blonde in the dark suit and an open-at-the-collar clean, white shirt gave him the full benefit of a smirk both playful and openly challenging. "Is that why I'm here?" He was the one who had this guy brought in for questioning. He was the one in charge. He was practically double the size of this pretty boy twink. So why did Patrick Cavanaugh feel like he was the prey? Maybe it was because this guy was a little too good looking. And maybe it's been some time since he's had a chance to mess around with somebody this hot. And maybe he should get on with this before he raped this guy's cute, tight little butt right here, right now. "It's detective. Detective Cavanaugh," he admonished as he sat down across the table from the suspect and placed a file folder in front of him. "Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Mondejar. You're here at our request to answer some questions regarding the burglary of the Winston ruby necklace." "Please, nobody calls me Mr. Mondejar, call me Joaquin," the young man said smoothly before amending, "On second thought, call me Jack. Nobody calls me Joaquin either." "Very well," he began, "A week before the theft Jack, you were seen on numerous occasions, casing the Winston house." "Casing?" the blonde chortled. "Really detective, aren't you ...

Get The Full Story At Sticky Pen]]> http://www.stickypen.com/Stories/Fantasy/Ravenswood_2206 Fantasy Mon, 19 Feb 2007 11:14:40 -0500
1. GOING People came here to disappear. Or so it's been said. Marc walked into the encroaching shadows, beyond the unlit fireplace with the marble mantel, past two chairs of polished black walnut facing each other like damask upholstered sentries before the French doors that opened out to the vast inner courtyard - the heart of this old house. Or rather, this old hotel. There, he observed what light remained of the day steadily climbing up the walls of exposed brick and beyond them the sky slowly turning from a warm orange to somber indigo. He lowered his gaze at the rows and rows of potted plants and flowers surrounding the fountain gurgling water from a pitcher held by a stained cherub. Then he looked back up to the upper floors of the hotel, briefly wondering about the occupants of those rooms. He proceeded into the courtyard, his pace echoing loudly on the cobblestones. Marc was glad he had chosen to stay at this hotel, although it was a bit of a walk from the Quarter’s more frequently trodden thoroughfares. Few visitors ever took the time to get to know New Orleans beyond Bourbon Street and all its attendant tourist diversions. And this place was precisely the kind of hidden treasure that characterized the city more accurately than people tossing plastic beads at drunken exhibitionists. Stretching out from the river’s edge was a veritable maze of streets and side entrances into lush gardens and buildings within buildings, which the natives had ...

Get The Full Story At Sticky Pen]]> http://www.stickypen.com/Stories/Fantasy/The-Clothes-Horse_2240 Fantasy Wed, 28 Feb 2007 09:02:36 -0500
THE CLOTHES HORSE (This is dedicated to why_not_tonight, who sent me an e-mail asking me to write about “…a 20-something who goes into a clothing store…” or something like that. I told him I was working on another story, which I am, but that I would get to his request as soon as I could. After receiving his e-mail late at night, I closed down my computer and went to bed and lay there tossing and sleepless all night because of this story’s characters, who came out of the mists of my mind saying “Write me or else!” I went to work the next morning exhausted, dragged through the day, and am only writing now because I need some sleep. I hope this is satisfactory, why_not_tonight, so that these two will leave me the hell alone! – BardOhio) I walked into the downtown mall looking for something special to wear to the frat party this weekend. I had no idea what to look for, because I am not a fashion plate, but my frat brothers were tired of my thrown-together look and they had made it absolutely clear that I would be severely punished if I showed up at this special party in my usual dowdy, bedraggled threads. Just how they could – and have – punished me in my two years in the frat house is another story – in fact several stories – for another time… I am not typical Greek frat-boy material, which was also made clear to ...

Get The Full Story At Sticky Pen]]> http://www.stickypen.com/Stories/Fantasy/The-Gym-At-RiverHead-Jail._2306 Fantasy Tue, 27 Mar 2007 15:05:16 -0400
The Gym At River-head. It's been just under a month since I've been in jail I've been moved around 3 times since my first day. In the gym at River-head my bunk mate next to me was this guy named Ozzy. He was Latino, possibly Puerto Rican. I used to take short glimpses at him when he walked around with his tank top on. I found him very attractive. I never looked long enough for it to be noticed. At night when he was asleep, he slept shirtless and I would have more of an opportunity to stare. I would look at his chest, his nipples, and my dick would get hard immediately. I would imagine resting my head on his chest as we lay together. I would imagine him not being gay, but loving to have his dick sucked. He would grab my head and force me down to where his dick was huge and hard. With one hand he would pull the front of his underpants down over his very straight hard dick while he controlled my head and mouth towards it. He would silently tell me to open my mouth. I would resist a little at the start, but only to behave as if I really didn't want this. Before I knew it, he would be controlling my mouth up and down on his full length. I would feel it pushing against the back of my throat. As I would start to gag I would try to pull ...

Get The Full Story At Sticky Pen]]> http://www.stickypen.com/Stories/Fantasy/Origin-of-Species,-Part-I_2223 Fantasy Thu, 22 Feb 2007 11:16:38 -0500
ORIGIN OF SPECIES: Part I (This is the true story of the origin and development of the human species Homo Sapiens, revealed to me in a dream. Modern medicine has not yet discovered the use of or purpose for the intestinal organ known to us as the Appendix. It’s really quite simple, and explains much else about our modern life…) The central room of The Cave, with its high vaulted ceiling soaring above, higher than any of Our People had ever dared climb, was the assembly-point for every member of the tribe that night, the night of the Full Moon, the night of The Ceremony. All were there, from the youngest to the oldest, the healthy and the sick, and even one who was in his last moments, and with his last strength insisted on being carried to the place, and had been laid on a shelf of rock where he could see the Ceremony. He had quietly died there without anyone noticing. The Shaman Ugurk stood where he belonged on this night of the Full Moon, this night of The Ceremony – at the foot of the natural rock table called by Our People, Al-Tar, in the center of the floor of The Cave, on which had been placed the body of the Chieftain’s youngest son, Azak. The young hunter’s fine-muscled body was grotesquely swollen at the abdomen, as it should be. All had gone well with The Process, all the Signs were favorable. Ugurk’s ancient back straightened, and he ...

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