The Figs of May - Carpe Testicularum

Chapter 5

The Story The Authors

He fell to the somewhat floor beneath him in balled up heap.Covered in sweat and dirty clothes he suddenly awoke feeling disallutioned of where he was.He suddenly realized and tried to open the door with his slowly adjusting eyes.
Its was dark around as he opened the door but he could barely see a mess but around him.In his messy shirt and cheap sandels he stumbled over heaps of people and empty bowls. Laura

THE SMELL WAS STAGNATING,AS HIS STOMACH KNOTTED,WHY WAS THIS HAPPENING?
HE HAD DONE NOTHING TO ENDURE THIS LIVING HELL THAT WAS THROWN UPON HIM, FOR ONLY
BELIEVING. ALL OF HIS LIFE HE HAD LIVED THE SAME, NOW THEY WANTED TO CHANGE
ALL OF THAT,ONLY FOR THEIR EVIL. HE WOULD NOT CHANGE! HE WOULD ONLY LIVE
THE WAY HE ALWAYS HAD, BY HIS OWN RULES, NO MATTER THE PUNISHMENT HE WOULD
FACE. jkale

And he cried not for the heartless bitch, whore that stole away with his child. Pain, suffering and he would return the torture jungleofmine

but whenthe torture came he could bare it for he had his toe nails ripped off
and when this happened he screamed like a mother in birth
for it hurt so much he could bare it
he was also flogged for good measure
but it was not so
he found his kids
saved them from the poontang whore
and he was forever good
but he never got his toenails back hans

instead he grew another set of finger; Thes with claws, large, black and sharp. Tony Counts

Actually, you can't grow another set of 'finger'. It generally helps when you are writing, especially for publication, if you can spell and if you know what correct syntax is. However, who am I kidding - this is the internet, no? Jane

Thusly did Jeremy Crink's guilty conscience flop about like a freshly hooked spotted perch on a pier. Sometimes even he had a hard time believing the awful cruelty with which he treated the ever tempting Matthew j Hickey. It wasn't even that he really savored or enjoyed it all that much, it was more like it was just there like some savory cherry pie on a windowsill. It just seemed to be the perfect thing to do. Lanark

After all, when Matthew walked into his life, how was he to know his attraction for him would grow day by day? He couldn't acknowledge it without admitting to the terrible, formless *thing* that just grew in the far reaches of his mind; it was the name everyone called him, before he stopped all the rumors cold. Amazing, really, how easy it was to get a girl in this neighborhood... Jeremy wondered about the way he treated them... and Matthew. Would he ever manage to acknowledge how he truly felt about all the painted female faces that swarmed in and out of his bed, cold and emotionless? The passion that only emerged when he felt the bite of iron or leather against his skin. . . or theirs? The darkness that enveloped him when he touched the handle of the whip. . . would he ever tell Matthew about the deep desires of his heart? Or would he continue his verbal cruelty, day by day? Megan Wilson

Yes he probably would continue but who was he to care... none

There was something about their relationship of the Eternal Opposites, yin und yang, a Gemini as a single unit more than as the twainness of two separate beings, locked forever in bonds which were almost molecular, mused Jeremy to himself. In other words, what would I do without him, heh-heh-heh? Faust was as doomed to summon Mephistopheles as Mephistopheles was to consign the good Doctor to Hell... Only Gretchen was the x-factor thrown into the mix, ultimately the instrument of his salvation, but — well, let's just say, I've snuffed out any chance of Matthew ever finding himself in that sort of trouble. This way I can have him all to myself, for ever and ever and ever and ever and ever — At this thought, Jeremy smiled a toothy smile to himself in the mirror and, noticing a stray bit of meat from his lunch protruding from between his two front teeth, extracted the rotten morsel with the prehensile tip of his tongue and savored its rancid tang burning on his tongue a moment before consigning the thing to his stomach. Philip

The Story	The Authors
He fell to the somewhat floor beneath him in balled up heap.Covered in sweat and dirty clothes he suddenly awoke feeling disallutioned of where he was.He suddenly realized and tried to open the door with his slowly adjusting eyes. Its was dark around as he opened the door but he could barely see a mess but around him.In his messy shirt and cheap sandels he stumbled over heaps of people and empty bowls.	Laura
THE SMELL WAS STAGNATING,AS HIS STOMACH KNOTTED,WHY WAS THIS HAPPENING? HE HAD DONE NOTHING TO ENDURE THIS LIVING HELL THAT WAS THROWN UPON HIM, FOR ONLY BELIEVING. ALL OF HIS LIFE HE HAD LIVED THE SAME, NOW THEY WANTED TO CHANGE ALL OF THAT,ONLY FOR THEIR EVIL. HE WOULD NOT CHANGE! HE WOULD ONLY LIVE THE WAY HE ALWAYS HAD, BY HIS OWN RULES, NO MATTER THE PUNISHMENT HE WOULD FACE.	jkale
And he cried not for the heartless bitch, whore that stole away with his child. Pain, suffering and he would return the torture	jungleofmine
but whenthe torture came he could bare it for he had his toe nails ripped off and when this happened he screamed like a mother in birth for it hurt so much he could bare it he was also flogged for good measure but it was not so he found his kids saved them from the poontang whore and he was forever good but he never got his toenails back	hans
instead he grew another set of finger; Thes with claws, large, black and sharp.	Tony Counts
Actually, you can't grow another set of 'finger'. It generally helps when you are writing, especially for publication, if you can spell and if you know what correct syntax is. However, who am I kidding - this is the internet, no?	Jane
Thusly did Jeremy Crink's guilty conscience flop about like a freshly hooked spotted perch on a pier. Sometimes even he had a hard time believing the awful cruelty with which he treated the ever tempting Matthew j Hickey. It wasn't even that he really savored or enjoyed it all that much, it was more like it was just there like some savory cherry pie on a windowsill. It just seemed to be the perfect thing to do.	Lanark
After all, when Matthew walked into his life, how was he to know his attraction for him would grow day by day? He couldn't acknowledge it without admitting to the terrible, formless thing that just grew in the far reaches of his mind; it was the name everyone called him, before he stopped all the rumors cold. Amazing, really, how easy it was to get a girl in this neighborhood... Jeremy wondered about the way he treated them... and Matthew. Would he ever manage to acknowledge how he truly felt about all the painted female faces that swarmed in and out of his bed, cold and emotionless? The passion that only emerged when he felt the bite of iron or leather against his skin. . . or theirs? The darkness that enveloped him when he touched the handle of the whip. . . would he ever tell Matthew about the deep desires of his heart? Or would he continue his verbal cruelty, day by day?	Megan Wilson
Yes he probably would continue but who was he to care...	none
There was something about their relationship of the Eternal Opposites, yin und yang, a Gemini as a single unit more than as the twainness of two separate beings, locked forever in bonds which were almost molecular, mused Jeremy to himself. In other words, what would I do without him, heh-heh-heh? Faust was as doomed to summon Mephistopheles as Mephistopheles was to consign the good Doctor to Hell... Only Gretchen was the x-factor thrown into the mix, ultimately the instrument of his salvation, but — well, let's just say, I've snuffed out any chance of Matthew ever finding himself in that sort of trouble. This way I can have him all to myself, for ever and ever and ever and ever and ever — At this thought, Jeremy smiled a toothy smile to himself in the mirror and, noticing a stray bit of meat from his lunch protruding from between his two front teeth, extracted the rotten morsel with the prehensile tip of his tongue and savored its rancid tang burning on his tongue a moment before consigning the thing to his stomach.	Philip

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