Lockdown Bites — UnknownShri’s Fiction

Captivating. Sensuality blending beautifully with the current scenario of pandemic.

A sexually-liberated women is having a gala time when her partner says something that horrifies her. She had chosen to voluntarily lock her down with him but easily manages to return to her place. A conversation with her roommate calms her down.

Her eyelids shot open. “Oh my God! You are hitting my stomach!”

She tightly shut her eyelids and dug her fingernails deeper into his biceps. “Yes! Yes! Ah… Yes!” Every muscle in her body tightened. “Oh God! Yes! Harder!” Her entire focus was on the hard, hot rod going in and out of her juicing pleasure centre. Something exploded down there. Every muscle in her body relaxed simultaneously. Her toes curled. She let go of the tight clutch of his arms. A tingle in her spine sent shivers all across her body. She exhaled as eyes slowly opened.

To read full story please go to

Lockdown Bites — UnknownShri’s Fiction


relationships of convenience

“Does he venture to the craft of words, any art?”

“They’re masters of another art. He has different stories for different places including home. It helps them honestly exploit and abuse all relationships to an extent, including spouse.”

“Not being honest or loyal is nothing new. Did he tell her about cancer?”

In the balmy weather a few dancers were practicing. We passed the huddle of students.

“I don’t know but if he does, they will manage it. They have mastered the art…er..I think he still frequently makes calls to Toni’s wife. “

” The one who was showing a large nose ring like the Tawaif in Pakeeza? Oh, regularly. But he has more with similar taste…you see.”

“Yeah. She was raving about her discotheque exploits. I saw their dance videos etc. Not to my taste. I watched other videos instead of naval gazing.

“I have learned that the sanctity of my relationships lies in my relationship with me. If it’s like a lion, my interaction with each person in the world I meet will be decent and respectful. A relationship can always defend itself and become stronger with each test. In that case, you don’t go to litter hither and thither about someone else’s relationships with the world. Is there anything more disgusting to whore any relationship to impress the world? And if you’re that kind of person, you will piggyback others relationships along you. “

“They don’t have such relationships. Their dramas are a cover for abuse. You will always have the inkling that something is not right. After all, where do such despicable acts appear from? If you can’t respect what is sacred for the person, you have no capacity for love. It isn’t difficult to laugh at or show blatant disrespect for what or whom the other person is talking to or doing. Is that a relationship? Can you imagine how deep is the shit?”

Suddenly, Lily heard a commotion and some vague intonation approaching us.

“Suffer in silence. It’s convenient to us. We use you as per our convenience”

“Accept the abuse. It’s convenient to us.”

“Go back. Accept it and remain silent. It’s convenient to us.”

“We are not putting up with your humiliation but relishing it. It’s convenient to us.”

“We will dump more on you that’s how we manage our relationships. It’s convenient to us.”

” We did witness saas-bahu fights but it’s you we choose to litter about. It’s about convenience.

And what we choose to tolerate…is convenient to us.

” Even if we are never for you, using you as we desire is convenient to us.”

“Accept our abuse and dump where we want, it’s convenient to us.”

“Remember what matters — our convenience. Your life? Using it must be convenient to us”

Lily swivelled around and said, “I heard a family.”


the wisdom of chaos

I feel delighted at winning the contest – ‘Write a piece inspired by Wallace Stevens’ poetry’ hosted by Ellie Onka. With utmost respect, I would like to thank Lucy for choosing my piece, for always inspiring me with her extraordinary comprehension of language and literature.I would also thank all the participants for inspiring me with their amazing work. I must confess that all I have been capable of penning down, all I have learned, to a large extent, hinged on the online community, writers, bloggers, non-writers who kept pushing me, in one way or other, to ameliorate. Those who were capable of plucking you out of any shady and pessimistic mindset. It’s been such a joy to see authors & artist swish and swirl after finishing their work. Just by appreciating, inspiring & cooperating, by choosing to be happy, for ourselves and for others, we can hold heavens in our embrace. Isn’t that wonderful? I am incredibly humbled and grateful for all those slaps and flogs that shaped and bolstered my relationship with me. Hopefully, as they say, my stories will find me. Here’s an excerpt:

The chaos strikes as the forerunner of the unbecoming
The intemperance of ideas promptly congregate
All the phantoms of should be, would be and could be
Gather at the brisk pace and catch the manic bug
Superfluous notions of culture, of piquant well-wishing…

Read complete work on allpoetry.com


All Poetry Contest (Ends December 3rd, 2020). — Lucy’s Works

Hello everyone. I am currently hosting a contest through All Poetry, and it is centered around writing poetry inspired by Wallace Stevens. This is the first poetry contest I am doing through there and if anyone would like to participate, you must submit your entry through All Poetry. The contest ends on December 3rd, 2020 […]

All Poetry Contest (Ends December 3rd, 2020). — Lucy’s Works

away from the farm

Think of the lass leaving for the harvest

Maybe she will be hauled off to their farmhouse,

Or maybe they will get her innards out of her body, there and then

When they ask her about her dreams

Or they talk about women who love catcalling,

Their disembowelment heaves to the sight

Their eyes overflow with the dreams of her vagina

They were searching for it around

A lust for psychological manipulation of masturbation

Washes over their dreams of things that match their level

She’d ask her father — how could you survive such swamps?

But he was just a troll.

Just one of them.

The testimony lay underneath the layers of eternities.

What horrible taste in people!

And the farm was drenched in the blood of labours.

I don’t know if she dreamt of places unlike that village but I did.

There’s a planet at the edge of the universe not unlike the earth in landscape and atmosphere.

But its inhabitants are not.


The post goes to ‘Sunday writing prompt‘ hosted by Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie.

life lessons

Winters, during those days, didn’t use to strike bleakly and stodgy food didn’t scare the hell out of you. I was lost in my thoughts when, all of a sudden, a car stopped alongside in the proximity with Vedna, Bunny and their irrefutable team poking their heads out of the window and calling out our names. We said hello to them. Vedna was surprised to see Jiya’s glow. I told her she is expecting.

A truck passed by us and Bunny waved the dri ver beaming and screaming. Bunny had a huge circle of friends. Unfortunately, with waterlogs on the roadside, the truck splashed enough sludgy water to drown me. Owing to the ongoing spell of tolerate-everything, I managed to simper until the next spell of pettifogging over a long haul. I was aware of the healing effects of Bunny’s words. Watching me dripping, wet like a drowning rat, Vedna was filled with dismay and offered me to leave me home but I spurned bashfully. I sent Jiya home. Bunny chummed me athwart the road with the suggestion to sneakily scramble up the upper row of washer-dryer to wash me clean..and nobody would know.

I left for a nearby laundrette. I wanted to have a ‘wash’ but noticing the precarious state of the washer-dryer, I gave up the idea considering my body weight. My body fat was splurging itself out of all the sides. The daunting prospect of getting stuck inside made my hair stand on end. Yet, I was thankful to Bunny for his kindness, for thinking of me, for their genuine regards and always wishing well of me.

After the incident, I resolved to take care of me and hold waterlogged areas at bay.


#FFFC

hundred followers

I am overjoyed to announce that a few days ago my follower list hit the magical number of hundred 💯 without languishing interminably at 99. *blush* (Patting me on my back)

I feel deeply humbled and honoured for your support and solidarity, for prodding and poking and abetting me to improve, spoiling me with your comment, motivation and follows despite all my flaws. Besides, it’s a privilege to be connected to fellow bloggers who can guide, willingly support and come up with solutions in the time of need. I offer my deepest thanks to the publishers, bloggers and writers community.

With utmost gratitude. 🙏

Smita


David by John Young — Dreaming in Fiction

A brilliant summer’s morning and David, an introspective, but ever curious, thirteen-year-old child, is walking alone as he often does in the countryside near his home. His preference for his own company sometimes worries his parents as does his remarkable capacity to accept and tolerate pain.  Though small for his age he is at school […]

David by John Young — Dreaming in Fiction