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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 7, 2003
Date: Mon, 28 Apr 2003 05:10:05 -0400
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Hammon Wry's Words of the Day for Tuesday January 7, 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.  

This is an exercise 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: quidnunc
http://dictionary.reference.com/wordoftheday/archive/2003/01/07.html
M-W.com's word of the day: Hobson's choice 
http://www.m-w.com/cgi-bin/mwwodarch.pl?Jan.07

"...Eva Whitson was the neighborhood gossip and busybody.  Conjecture
had it that she would stoop to riffling her neighbor's trash for any
hint to their fortunes, their health, their amusements. 

It was on such a fact-finding mission that she was caught in the
wee-smalls of the morning, opening the trashbag of her neighbor, the
distinguished but reticent Mr. Thomas Eric. 

'Miss Whitson, what are you doing in my trash?'

She spun around, and the bag of trash fountained its contents in a
circle at her feet.  She was dressed in loose pajamas, the night being
warm.  Her hair was loose.  

'I... uh...'

Mr. Eric narrowed his eyes.  'You are tress passing, Miss Whitson.
Further, you are intruding upon my life.  Your quidnunc ways are known
to me, and I am not about to put up with it.'

Tears leapt to her eyes, and her pride stung as if shredded and then
doused with vinegar.  She was terrified, this man had her dead to
rights, and she knew it.  

'What are you going to do to me?'

'To you?'  He arched an eyebrow, and looked her up and down.  It was
obvious that he liked what he saw.  

She gulped.  Why had she chosen those words? 

'I mean, are you going to call the police?  I...' Fear of facing the
police in her pajamas made her speechless. 

Mr. Eric leered at her.  'You can cooperate with me, or be turned over
to the police, Miss Whitson.  It's hardly Hobson's choice, is it?'

She thought quickly.  A phobia of jail cells and strip searches made
her decision easier.  

She nodded.  'I'll do as you say.'

He leaned forward, and grabbed her by the front of her pajamas, and
pulled her bodily to him.  He pressed his mouth to hers, and thrust
his tongue in violently.  She gasped, and found a new terror.  

He released her mouth, and noted her state of fear.  It pleased and
aroused him. Yes. She would pay with woman's oldest coin.  

'"First,' he hissed, 'You will clean up the trash from the ground.'
He pushed her down to her knees, and then pointed to the nearest bit,
a crumpled sheet of paper.  'With your teeth.' "

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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