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From: Hammon Wry <hammonwry@nospamyahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Hammon Wry's Words of the Day for February 28, 2003: Piratical Adventure!
Date: Thu, 15 May 2003 01:10:04 -0400
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Hammon Wry's Words of the Day for Friday February 28, 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: forfend
http://dictionary.reference.com/wordoftheday/archive/2003/02/28.html
M-W.com's word of the day: scintillate
http://www.m-w.com/cgi-bin/mwwodarch.pl?Feb.28

The captain struck the flint.  The spark jumped from the steel, and
hit the oil-soaked wick of the lamp, no mean feat.  He watched as the
wick flared. 

His captive huddled against the bulkhead on his berth.  She shivered
and the movement caught his eye.  Ignoring it, he crossed to the
window casing.  The sun was setting and it illuminated  the sky to the
stern of the ship.  This was the reason he'd purchased this ship--the
captain's quarters were light, with window casings over the port
holes.  He could watch the ocean scintillate in the dying sunlight.
Sparks.  They seemed to be ubiquitous in his life since he'd captured
Lady Miriam Elspeth Hortensia Rogers-Whitlow.  Gods, what a mouthful
the name was.  She had fire and a pride that was so charming it was a
shame to try to break it.  But unbroken fillies would not command the
price that pleasure-riding mares did. 

He'd kept her chained to his cabin, naked.  She had resisted his
touch, fighting her own responses.  She had won out, so far.  He was
looking for the seam in her facade, the chink in her armor.  Any way
past that stony unresponsiveness.  A cold woman was worthless to the
harems of Araby.   How long could she forfend against her own
responses? 

He turned to see her staring at him.  "My dear, what shall I do with
you?  Do I need to turn you over to my men, after all?  Would that
ignite your passions, perhaps?"

Lady Miriam only curled tighter in a ball.  Exasperated, he crossed
the cabin, and yanked her off the mattress by her wrists.  "Damn you,
woman!  I'll have my satisfaction of you yet!"

He pulled her over his lap, and raised his hand above her shapely
derriere.  With lips held tight into a narrow line, and eyes cold as
glaciers, he brought it down in a series of rapid slaps.  She wailed,
arched, and struggled against his tight grasp on her small wrists.  

Finally, he stopped.  Her ass was brilliant, and he could see the
marks of his fingers clearly.  She lay sobbing, her breasts warm
against his thigh.  Her legs were pressed tightly together.  As her
body heaved, they parted, and her sex was exposed.  Like the ocean
outside the window casing, it sparkled with wetness in the light of
the oil lamp. 

He'd found the key. 

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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