Saturday 8 September 2012

Flash fiction challenge




I’m going to give you three columns.
You have to pick one from each column.
And from that, write a 1000-word story.


(If you really want to get crazy, roll a d10 or pick random number between 1 and 10 from this Random Number Generator. In other words, let fate pick your choices in each category!)
The three columns (pick one from each) are:
Noir
Erotica
Dystopian
Steampunk
Mythology
Detective
Sword & Sorcery
“Weird”
Body Horror
Romantic Comedy

Dinosaurs
Serial Killer
Gladiators
Insects
Climate Change
Hotel Bar
Geology
Graveyard
Surgery
Terrorism

Love Triangle
Revenge
Divorce
Childbirth
On The Run
Fated To Die
Man Versus Himself
Addiction
Imprisoned
Ticking Clock
~~~~~~~~

I let fate choose my three column choices and they were: erotica/gladiator/on the run. Typical. Lmao. At least I didn’t get steampunk/insect/love triangle. That would be a challenge.
Word count: 678
Rating: NC17


Lentulus waited patiently in the darkened cell. His body had been requested; probably a senator’s wife. It was a frequent occurrence. Given his body was not his own, he could not argue and he made a small profit from the subterfuge. The guard made more and the senator’s wife probably hoped for a strong baby. There were rumours that Caesar’s own mother had done the same. Commodus looked nothing like his father.

It was an inconvenience because Lentulus much preferred a male lover. He adored hard and muscled bodies; women did nothing for him.

The knock at the door. Door flung open without ceremony; the hooded figure entered.

Not a wife - a man. He could tell.

A gasped breath as the figure triggered a memory. “Mercato?”

“Shhh.” The scarred hands lifted the hood back. He smiled at him.

Lentulus threw himself at his lover. A rare man in every respect; a gladiator, freed undefeated and now wealthy from his earnings. “You came.”

“I promised.”

They kissed desperately. It had been months.

Lentulus wore only a loincloth. Mercato’s hands ran across his slighter body, looking for new scars. He found a bad one on his right shoulder. He sighed. 
“Every day I prayed to the gods for your safety,” Mercato said.

“You were not here to protect me.”

“You almost lost that last bout.”

“I know.”

They kissed again urgently. Hands dug under clothing with no time to remove it.

“Please?” Lentulus begged. He knew just what to do. His hands reached for his lover and found him already hard. He dropped to his knees and wrapped his lips around his shaft. Mercato groaned and rocked into his mouth.

“I missed you,” he breathed. His hands locked on either side of his head; holding him still. He dragged himself away before he finished. “Need to be in you.”

He hoisted him to his feet and lifted him in his arms; pressing his back against the wall and wrapping his legs around his hips. Some spit on his fingers was all they required, and then he was working his way in; the muscle clutching and dragging at him. “Sorry,” he apologised.

Lentulus grabbed his neck and plunged his tongue into his mouth. His other hand wrapped around his own weeping erection. He grunted as his back hit the wall with each thrust. “Yes… more… harder.” He lost the rhythm as he tugged at his cock. He made a noise as he came that sounded almost like a sob.

Mercato came so hard he almost fell. He leaned against the wall, clutching Lentulus to his body; leaving bruises where his hands gripped too hard. He wanted to bury himself in his lover. Never to be separated again.

A nip at his ear broke him out of his reverie. He let Lentulus’ legs drop to the floor, so that he could stand. He watched him retrieve his loincloth and retie it. He reached out and stroked his hand down his arm.

“Come with me,” Mercato suggested.

“Now?”

“Yes.”

Lentulus blinked.

“I have money. I can’t leave you again; I can’t.”

Lentulus’ hands adjusted his partner’s clothing; making him presentable.

Mercato grabbed his hands. “Please.”

Lentulus made a tiny nod.

“Good. Grab your stuff, your earnings, your penates* and meet me back here. I will talk to the guards.” They’d do it for him and he’d pay as well if he had to. If he needed to, he’d pay out the last of Lentulus’ contract. He wouldn’t survive another bout. The scar on his right shoulder would affect his movement. He’d buy him as a last resort and never tell him. And if none of that worked, they would run. 

As long as they were together.

He waited in an agony of nerves for his return. His face broke into a grin when he saw him approach down the dark corridor.

He took his cloak off and swung it around his lover’s shoulders, kissing him quickly before he hurried him out the barred door to escape.

*penates - small figurines of family


2 comments:

  1. Damn well done. Didn't quite incorporate "on the run" as a theme, but who cares, it was a good piece of writing anyway. Nice job!

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    Replies
    1. thanks - I did kind of skip the 'on the run' part and now my friends tell me penates are house gods... sigh

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