Flashers by Nikki Isaak

Sowing the Seeds
© 2007

"God moved in next door, and said He was here to 'punish' someone?" Darla, disbelieving.

"He has to be God," Patrick enthused.  "When He spoke, I experienced that distinctive rush that I felt when I first accepted Christ!"

Darla frowned.  Her husband only got this excited when he harassed women at abortion clinics.

*    *     *

Later that month: their bedroom wall thumped and shook.

"Fill me with Your Holy Ghost, Divine Papa!" screamed another passionate tranny (briefly glimpsed outside "God's" apartment), from the other side of the wall.

Darla sighed, bitterness mounting.  Patrick wasn't the only one being punished.

Rough Nuns: Fetid Flower
© 2005

"We'll exorcise that malefic flower," Grace assured the trembling housewife. The nun then addressed her young assistant "Ready?"

Amelia grinned, love-struck.

As the two nuns approached the five-foot, pus-spewing daisy, Grace gestured for Amelia's rosary beads. Remembering how she'd used the beads last night in her bed, Amelia blushed, handed them to Grace.

Grace sniffed the musk-scented beads, returned them to Amelia.

"Naughty girl, they're useless," Grace smiled. "Get the gas can and the flame thrower."

Weird County: German Granite
© 2004

"This is blasphemous," Rick's yearlong bimbo giggled, legs spread for his hard, fervid plunges. Moments later, his seed dripped off her night-cooled thighs, onto his wife's fresh grave.

Rick's grin mocked the granite angel looming above them: I escaped you. Got your money, and I desecrated your grave.

Something woke within the granite then, invisible, terrible—a spirit wronged, born of murder. Crickets became quiet.

As the angel toppled, Rick and the bimbo looked up. The base crushed the bimbo; the angel's sword pierced Rick, who died screaming.

The crickets resumed their humming.

Fluid Descendants
© 2003

Gasping, she grips the pagoda rail, the jelly vibrator plunging into her sopping cunt, loosing sacred waters. When he fills her lubed ass, hard as the stone dragon who espies the nearby river, her breaths become more agitated; they honour wise dragons, their progenitors. She sighs as he cups her breast, his male scent sweating her spinal dragon, uncoiling and jade. Quietly, he looses his saline waters within her. Incense flavours their kisses as she lies on the floor. His mouth on her cunt, his tongue ensures that the dragons hear her as she flows onto him.

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