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From: Hammon Wry <Hammonwry@Spamtrapyahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Hammon Wry's Words of the Day for January 25, 2003: Piratical Adventure
Date: Mon, 21 Apr 2003 06:10:07 -0400
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Hammon Wry's  Words of the Day for Saturday January 25, 2003
Note: Due to copyright laws, I am hesitant to include the definitions
and pronunciations of the words of the day.  I have provided the
websites for each so that you can look up the words for yourself.  

Dictionary.com provides a free utility call "Clever Keys" that allows
you to highlight an unknown word, hit CTRL+L, and it will take you to
that word on their website.  You can find it here: 

http://www.cleverkeys.com/ck.html?p=home&os=

This is an excersize in writing discipline.  I am trying to get into
the habit of writing something every day.  I figure if I use the words
of the day from two sources in a sexual context, I will have
inspiration and motivation.  

And now, on to Hammon Wry's Words of the Day!
(C) E. Howe   2003
All rights reserved

Dictionary.com's word of the day: consanguineous
http://dictionary.reference.com/search?q=consanguineous
M-W.com's word of the day: portmanteau
http://dictionary.reference.com/search?q=portmanteau

"...Captain Jacques-Pierre Percival considered his prize.  She lay
hog-tied on the deck of the cabin, her skirts hiked up to reveal the
snowy fabric of her pantaloons.  He reached down and flipped the
expensive material of her gown back to reveal what he knew of women's
undergarments:  The pantaloons indeed had the split that ran from
belly to butt to facilitate the use of the privy.  How opportune in
other situations, as well!  He nudged the edges of the fabric aside,
and noted the auburn curls of her mons venerus were trimmed and
shaped.  Freshly done, probably during this morning's toilet.  No
stippling of the milky skin under his fingertip along the outer edges
of the patch.  

A glance at her clothing revealed stains on the fabric from the filthy
surface on which she lay in a swoon.  He would have the idiot who did
that whipped--the dress was probably ruined, and would no longer fetch
a good price when sold.  

Her eyelids fluttered, and an inarticulate sound was heard behind the
sailcloth and rope in her mouth.   She returned to consciousness
slowly.  The bit of fluff was a kidnap job.  Her uncle wanted to gain
control of the estate that she was to rightfully inherit.  

"It's most severious that she disappear utterly, do you understand
me?"  Alcohol had slurred the uncle's words forming the portmanteau.
"Apparent consanguinity forbids that I marry the wench and take her
property.  She stands in the way of  my rightful share of the estate.
All of it."

"What do you want done with her?"
The fop had blinked dully.  Curse the man for his love of port wine
and opium.
"I don't care. Kill her.  Sell her into slavery in the brothels of
Brazil.  Keep her as your own toy.  I don't think she would survive
your tender mercies for long, brother.  She is a delicate flower. "
He stopped to take a pinch of snuff, and sneezed politely into an
Irish linen handkerchief edged with Brussels lace. 

Jacques-Pierre shut the door on the memory of his half-brother, and
regarded Lady Miriam with an eye for profit.  True, she seemed
delicate.  She'd fainted when he came into the cabin, coiling the whip
in his hands after using it on the impertinent fool outside.  In a
way, it made his job of examining her easier.  Her hair was auburn,
long and dark, hints of red visible in the dim candle flames.  Her
bosom heaved in the prescribed manner of damsels in distress
everywhere.  She was altogether lovely.  No doubt she would be lovely
in the altogether, as well.

Hammon Wry

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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