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From: Hammon Wry <Hammonwry@Spamtrapyahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Hammon Wry's Words of the day for Sunday January 26, 2003: Piratical Adventure
Date: Mon, 21 Apr 2003 07:10:02 -0400
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Hammon Wry's Words of the day for  for Sunday January 26, 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: milieu
http://dictionary.reference.com/search?q=milieu
M-W.com's word of the day: holy writ
http://dictionary.reference.com/search?q=Holy+Writ&r=3

"...She strained her neck to observe her surroundings.  A single
lantern swayed unlit from the dark, thick beams above her head, and
the smell of whale oil was detected.  A single candle burned in a
sconce on the wall by the doorway.  The walls of the room were
rough-hewn planks, one wall arched outward, the curve of the hull
evident.   It was a milieu utterly unfamiliar to her.  A ship no
doubt, and she must be below the waterline.  As noted before, the
surface upon which she lay was damp and odiferous, the stink of rancid
oil and rotting sea-creatures threatening to make her vomit behind her
gag. 

That would not do, she thought.  It would be an ignominious death to
die drowned in your own internal fluids.  She summoned her resolve to
hold her belly down.  She focused on the man who had entered the cabin
to look her over.  He had not seen fit to speak to her, simply to rape
her with his eyes.  That's what he had been doing when she opened her
eyes from her faint, looking at her compromised modesty.  She had
mewled like a kitten, but it had sounded even more pathetic behind her
gag.  No, it was his touch that had made her awaken.  He'd run his
fingers over the patch of skin and fur at the top of her legs.  She
had been too terrified to move.  And yet, it had aroused her.  All
those years of plucking and shaving her mound of pleasure for that one
touch!  Oh, how she longed for more and yet her cheeks burned with the
shame of it.  

Now alone in the semi-darkness, she thought of the sounds she had
heard outside the cabin, of the rough men who plotted rape and mayhem
on her person.  With a single pronouncement, they had fallen silent.
All but one who suggested something too low for her to think about. A
single whip-crack had turned the Captain's words to holy writ.

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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