Let's Tell a Story


Okay, so here are the rules - no hardcore pornography or anything that would make the Mods attack. Anyone can contribute to the story, but lets try to keep it to 3 sentences up to a paragraph at a time. Let’s have fun.


The old house was quiet, dark and imposing when Marcus opened the front door. A slight creaking sound rising from the floorboards beneath him as he stepped gingerly through the front door. “Uncle Eddie?” he called.

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No answer was heard. As he walked into the dark living room, the door was shut. He looked at the door, only to hear the sound of someone chuckling from the inside of the house.

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“Uncle Eddie?” Marcus whispered, the hair on the nape of his neck rising as he heard a scurrying sound behind him.

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Grandma was slowly fanning her hand knit quilt as she rocked back and forth from the dark corner of the room. The chili she had for lunch was wreaking havoc on her colon. She wondered if anyone is hearing her chuckle? Prrrruuufftpftd. “Damn dog, get out of here, take that outside”, she yelled.


“Jesus Granny, what the hell?” Marcus gasped, as the smell permeated the room. A slight movement drew his eye to where Eddie lay, collapsed upon his side, only the slight rise and fall of his chest showing he still lived.


Marcus was not new to this situation, but it had been ages since Granny had been this odorous. He wasted no time in wrenching back the heavy drapes. A hard lean of his shoulder was needed to open the window event the tiniest crack. How long had it been since these dang things had been opened anyway?

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As the light poured in, dust swirled in the air dancing all around them. Uncle Eddie raised his hand to shade his eyes, letting a bottle fall to the floor. With a grim smile, Marcus swallowed hard on the news he needed to share.

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Marcus knew he would have to deal with his uncle before bothering to tell him anything. “Uncle Eddie? Uncle Eddie?” He repeated gently slapping him on the face. The open window was starting to have some affect, cycling fresh air into the room, making the dust bunnies dance. “Come on Uncle Eddie! I can’t move you by myself!”

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Uncle Eddie slowly arose and looked around. Where am I he asked with a bewildered look in his face. Last thing I remember was…

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I don’t mean to rock or wrecked the boat here but the very first paragraph of the story suggest that uncle Eddie is the one under the floorboards

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No. The creaking of the floorboards was from them moving as Marcus walked across them. Read it again.

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I’m assuming incomplete sentences

I saw a pair of eyes, peeking through the window. It was so dark that I couldn’t see the face.

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A face only a mother could love. For it was revolting to behold. The face of your lustful death.

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It was cousin Jethro, he had been missing for days, he had returned home knowing the mailman had come by. He knew the latest edition of Good Housekeeping would be there and it was time to fondle himself (but not in a hard core way). As he was near finished, he noticed someone staring at him from the window above…

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Speaking as a Moderator. Let’s keep this story rated PG (PG as in Parental Guidance suggested—not PG as in Pocket Gems) please. Remember these points from the code of conduct:


This post was flagged by the community and is temporarily hidden.


Now why was this hidden? It follows the story as well as the rules…

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Pretty it’s becuase you continue with the story of self-inflicted pleasure.


Which is still visible, doesn’t make sense…