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From: Hammon Wry <Hammon_Wry-No-Spam@awench.cotse.net>
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Subject: {ASSM} Hammon Wry's Words of the Day for January 12, 2003
Date: Sun,  4 May 2003 17:10:02 -0400
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Hammon Wry's Words of the Day for Sunday January 12, 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: gloaming
http://dictionary.reference.com/wordoftheday/archive/2003/01/12.html
M-W.com's word of the day: duplicity
http://www.m-w.com/cgi-bin/mwwodarch.pl?Jan.12

"...Twilight descended. In the tenebrous light of the gloaming, the 
Miskatonic River shivered in its course through Dunwich, on its way to
Arkham and the sea.  From its watery depths would come the occasional
plop as something best undescribed snaked back down below the surface.

Amanda Armitage sat on the banks in the rapidly cooling eventide.  Her
blue school sweater and matching blue and gray plaid skirt were
becoming less adequate for the chill, but she hardly noticed.  She
burned with embarrassment at the latest of insults given by her
classmates.  How dare they make fun of her relationship with her
beloved Yog-Sothoth? The image of the plushy octopus burning on the
asphalt of the school yard was forever etched in her mind.  She could
still smell the gasoline, and the melting plastic of the vibrators
tied to its many tentacles.  The sound of their laughter as she
watched in horror as the effigy of her lover burned was no more
pleasant than the sound of jagged and dirty fingernails drawn claw-
like over a slate.

At 18, and slightly plumper than her classmates, she was often the
butt of their duplicity.  They would pretend friendship, and then lead
her into another joke, ridiculing her.  It didn't help that she was
the only albino this year.  The insular nature of the folks of Dunwich
meant that there were usually one or two in each class, but for some
reason only Amanda had survived.  She tried to write it off to
jealousy.  

She gazed into the waters, her lavender eyes swollen with weeping.
Her colorless hair was lifted by an errant breeze, and she sighed.
"Oh, Yog-Sothoth, why are they so cruel to me?  I have never hurt them
in any way!"  She burst into a fresh spate of tears, sorrow ripping at
her heart like a pack of wild dogs at a struggling deer.

Just then, the waters parted, and a snakelike appendage felt its way
along the surface toward the weeping girl.  It finally stopped as it
reached her snow-white knee.  A dribble of water slid down to the
ground as the tentacle inched along the skin toward the hem of her
skirt.  

Amanda sighed, and opened her eyes.  'I knew you would come to make me
feel better.'  A second tentacle jointed the first, a sucker leaving a
slight red circle just inside her upper thigh when it pressed her
knees apart. 

The two appendages sprouted ungula, and they scraped along her
translucent skin, talons used in gentle foreplay.  She squirmed in
delight, moaning.  Slowly, she unbuttoned her sweater, and then the
white shirt beneath it, not bothering to remove the dark gray tie.
Her generous and pendulous breasts burst free as she released the
front closure of her bra.  They gleamed in the gathering gloom, her
nipples a brilliant pink against the blue-veined flesh.  Another
tentacle arose and began to play with them, pulling them and pinching
them until they reddened and hardened.  Soon she welcomed the familiar
rush of wetness behind her panties. A fourth tentacle appeared, and
wrapped itself around her wrists, securing them.

 From the river arose the head of the beast, one large eye starring, 
lidless.  An ill-formed mouth opened, and a voice from beyond this
world murmured 'They are nothing, and when the stars are right, they
will pay for their blasphemy!'

Amanda felt a rush of joy only possible when her beloved spoke.  She 
shivered as the first tentacle lifted away her skirt, tore away her
panties and began probing her with a pink and slippery tip."

Hammon Wry
(Has no intentions of being anywhere NEAR Sentinel Hill come
midsummer!)
-- 

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