ROTFLMAO@Gold finch!

You just saw it?

Ideas guys next scenario!  Everyone feelfree to post about previous ones as well!

Stephens gonna have to play catch up.

Gold finch you and murder sha!

all ye writers, nice no doubt1 but y'all just killing me wit this fantasies and all wat not. have got nuthing on writing so am so not gon try. let ur imaginations run wild on the dancing, grooving and not giving a rat ass bout who's there but you and the music jamming thru ur ears, swaying, salsaing, hip hopping.

just making love to the songs,

the dude is suppose to be CH3COO

[/

CH3COO
That was supposed to be a kiss smiley, right?

@Lady T, Onyinye and Gold Finch

Glad you liked it. , . .

Lots of talents on this board, I cant believe my eyes I see some people that can make fortune in literary work, dont worry, Agatha Christie is my mother, send me an email.


T & Stephen,

400 to 500 words is just not going to do it for me, I operate in overdrive when I am passionate; this topic is hot. Can I get a waiver? Just Kidding!!

LOL@Negro

I know you will break all records and this is the thread for you. My only concern is the concentrated english!  Please put a warning if a dictionary will the needed to decipher your novel!

Look forward to your replies

@Negro
I love AGHATHA CHRISTIE

i PROBABLY READ ALL HER NOVELS. . . . . . THEY'RE ALL SO DELICIOUS!

Is it my turn yet? I would like to write about the bad kuli kuli I dashed Finch in exchange for her affection.

No wonder your obsessed with murder

@CH3COO
We have 1 hr left, do you want to spend it with me?

@LadyT
obsessed ke? I just love the mysteries

LadyT:

No wonder your obsessed with murder

Murder doesn't always take on the form of physical death don't you know. too many mere mortals walking about our gray earth.

Gold*Finch:

@CH3COO
We have 1 hr left, do you want to spend it with me?

@LadyT
obsessed ke? I just love the mysteries

No.

@CH3COO
You don't have a choice.

I locked us in.

The key is in my underwear

Lol. As long as PO won't hijack my finger I will immerse my hand in your g-string and pull out the keys to unlock myself.

oshi bururku!

Who has PO? hiss

Anyways, can you please contribute to the thread?

Thanks, baby

*ijiji finds a good spot on wall and watch*

What's the thread about? Horror? I love horror . .
Let me think of a story.

Think of any scenario you want.

Horror, crime, mystery, romance, etc.

Love to read from you

I am haunted ooo. . . .Nightmares, phantasmogoria, ila buruku


Haunted by a scene from way back. An event from childhood. Gosh, thinking about it. . . . .

They tell me, reliving the story with other will provide some relief. . . . . .

I was in Primary 1 then, or was it Primary 2. Anyways, it don't really matter.
We were the prey-mantis hunters back then, me and my clique. And boy were we good. We would jump on the
hopping suckers and tear them apart limb by limb. legs first, heads last, i guess to make sure every ounce of pain
registered in the creature's brain.

Our hunting ground was a large parcel of grass. Overgrown weeds seething with hopping preys. What a delight.
We would tease the poor mantis to exhaustion, until it literally gave up and gave in to its Gothic fate. Right in an obscure corner
of this grounds was a one of those contraptions, I suspect almost unique to Nigeria. Everywhere else in the world, at least other places
I have been, their cesspits/septic tanks are buried undergoround. But in many locales in Nigeria, as if to show off an architectural marvel,
their crowns are allowed to rear the head for all to see. Archetypal 'Towers of Shit' you might say.

But this particular one on our playground was no longer concrete on top. In several places where it had given way, it ws augmented
with planks of wood. Of course it reeked. We are talking about the shit of little pikins here, excreta derived from a sweet tooth. But we kids
never noticed. You can ignore most things when you are having fun, and what was more fun than ripping a Prey-Mantis apart.

Amongst us Barbarians, was an especially outstanding hunter. While we ripped our victims with a degree of remorse, he ripped his with glee, a guttural
emmision right from the depths. And he was an avid hunter. There was no talking with Ekaete when he was on a mission. All and everything was fazed out.  And so it was on this day. He was on the tail of his quarry with even more zeal than usual. But this mantis was almost inexhastible. It skipped in all
directions, evading capture. The more it skipped, the more resolute was Ekaete.  Just as Ekaete seemed to be getting one up on the mantis, in one last
act of defiance, the mantis heaved itself up on the contraption, and with equal zeal Ekaete hopped after it.

The Wood gave way. . . . . . ,  . . , . .  . .Mantis and Ekaete falling down one seeming maelstrom of IGBE



It so happened that I had been the only spectator to the whole drama. The other members of our murderous group
were off in a little corner, marvelling at each other's conquests. I simply stood there. . . my little mind trying to comprehend what had happened.
Then I started crying, I was crying as I ran to the nearest class to the nearest adult.

I found one. . , .' Tisha, Tisha, Tisha. . . . .Ekaete has fallen into the suck-away'

It is remarkable how swift she was. . . . or how she understood me. She went to another class, grabbed a male teacher, and egged me on.

We got there, almost all of him gone. . . . .quicksand or quickshit had almost swallowed him. His fingers were all we could see, a last cry for salavation

He was pulled out, in all his brown faecal glory. Laid out on the floor, non breathing. They quickly started pumping at his chest, and with every maggot, every green slimy faeces, or brown nugget of igbe that spewed forth from his mouth, we all thought Ekaete was gone.

But then he coughed, he coughed again. . . .and for comic measure, one of the adults who had gathered round suggested,
'Make person give am Mouth to Mouth' na.

I had long gone though. . . .The picture of all that excreta thriving forth from my friend's mouth had been too much.

The image that lives with me till today. . . . . .The one that haunts me. The cause of my 'Nocturnia'

Doyin i no fit laugh!

LOL

Doyin, u r a sick sick person

@ doyin

your story has just being certified 5star gross

Picks up Jaw from the ground.  Gross.
You weave wonder with your words.
Very good  

What bloody scenario was that again?

the story is creepy but good.
doyin your proclivity for morbid fantasy is second to none.

LOL In light of Doyins wildness I do the unthinkable and ask the people to write

Erotica

Disclaimer: No Gonzo style porn PLEASE. Key word Sensual

Lmao wtf is Gonzo style?

Sensual ke? Practicals are always better than theory.

LOL@David

Google Karma!

Nice one guys

But sex again? do you ppl ever get tired of sex? and touch?and licking etc?

oga o, but nice imagery sha.

@doyin
arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrggggg
sicko

Gold*Finch:

Nice one guys

But sex again? do you people ever get tired of sex? and touch?and licking etc?
oga o, but nice imagery sha.

@doyin
arrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrggggg
sicko

I was only following instructions na. . .

HR.hotness:

I could feel his pulse deep there inside mingled with my own, a shadow chasing the feeling of his silken fullness.  As he moved, I whimpered helplessly, aware of my own rising frenzy to keep him there.  I reached out to roughly take his hair into my hands as if in fear that he would stop. His scent. his touch, taunting me sweetly, easing over my hot skin in a wash of sensual joy. He reached for me now, turning me away from him so that he could take me from behind as I preferred.  His movements quickened, and he became more the animal, less the man.

There would be little restraint left for me at that point, for as I pushed back against him while he drove in and out of me, that subtle rising itch within me began, and I wanted more of it.  He turned my face to the side so that his tongue could play about my lips, but I was already at the height of my excitement and started to cry out against his mouth.  He felt so right, so natural and so good that I could have cried for pleasure.  The tender weakness stole over me so that I shook until the roots of my hair were soaked, gripping him tightly with my body, refusing to let go.

Then he seemed to gasp, stopping suddenly, increasing the speed of his thrusts.  He moaned softly over and over as he came violently inside of me.  Our heavy breathing filled the space of the empty room in tune with the rain outside hitting the windows.

A few minutes later, while I lay there wrapped up in his warm embrace, I suddenly realise I didn't know his name. . . .  

Ol bob. . . .I sure would like to meet you

And I promise not to tell you my name. hehehehehe