Close Topic Options

KenGreen Blog - Page 12

As you approach this, keep in mind that the challenge is to write fifty-two bad stories. I think this qualifies

VODKA SPARKLE
By Ken Green
"Welcome to the Bull. Holy crap, you're Jezebel Hiroshima!" Olivia gasped.
"Yeah. Give me a vodka sparkle. And don't be chintzy with the sparkle."
Olivia turned and reached up to the top shelf, feeling dizzy. Wait. Glass shelves, bottles with labels? Where am I? She whirled back to face the bar. It was glass, too, with some kind of holographic display embedded in it. The tavern's rough plastered walls had been replaced by black Transteel, and the oak floor was now a tacky star-patterned carpet. Is this the future? Have I gone mad?
"Are you okay, Honey?" Jezebel asked.
"Yeah," Olivia lied, trying to collect her wits, "I'm fine."
"Well, I'm not," Jezebel said, "Look at my hand. Do you see a drink in it?"
"No, I.sorry." Olivia reached for the bottle. Where's Darla? What's happened to her? Oh, God, let Darla be okay, I don't care what you do to me, just let Darla be okay.
"Holy crap!" Darla said, "You're Jezebel Hiroshima!"
"I know!" Jezebel shouted, "I know who I am, you know who I am, the whole solar system knows who I am! The only mystery here is; why don't I have a drink in my hand?"
"Coming right up," Olivia said, filling a pint glass with vodka. She ripped open a packet of sparkles and dumped it into the drink. Sparkles were tiny, brightly colored squares of edible polymer, laced with LSD. It was a very fashionable drink.
"Are you here working on a big story?" Darla asked.
"Yeah. I think the headline is going to be, 'Cranky newscaster punches ditzy barmaid in face'."
"Yeah, well, I can tell you right now that story won't end well."
"And here's your drink!" Olivia turned and placed it in front of Jezebel, then looked to Darla, who was dressed in a skintight jumpsuit that seemed to be composed of nothing but constellations of rhinestones, as if the milky way galaxy had unwound its spiral arms and was giving her a carnal embrace.
"What in God's name are you wearing?" Olivia asked.
"Versace," Darla answered, "You helped me pick it out."
"Oh, yeah," Olivia said, not remembering that at all.
"Miss?" Jezebel interrupted, "I didn't order a double."
"No," Olivia said, "But we both know you need one. It's on me."
Darla pulled Olivia aside, and whispered, "You just gave away a ninety-dollar drink. Are you feeling alright?"
"I'm fine," Olivia looked away, and glanced at a window. She saw the Earth.
"Holy crap!" she exclaimed, "What are we doing in space?"
"In space? We live here. Are you having one of your spells, Sport?"
"No, I fine.Wait, what did you call me?"
"I called you 'Sport', like I always do," Darla said.
"No, you always call me 'Squire'." Olivia said.
"Why would I.That's it, I'm taking you to a doctor. No more excuses. You're scaring me."
"Hey!" Jezebel shouted, "If you two are going to lez out, then.I want in."
"Mam," Darla said, her voice icy, "We are having a private conversation here."
"Then why are you doing it in a public place? And why is my glass empty? You can't treat me like this, I'm an American with money."
Olivia walked back and poured her another sparkle.
"Is this one free too?" Jezebel asked.
"It is not." Olivia answered.
"Well, that is just censorship, or something." Jezebel dropped her purse on the bar, started pulling credslips out. She assembled a stack that amounted to a month's rent in New Manhattan, or the full cash price of a home on Earth.
"So, girls," she said, pitching her voice low to sound all seductive, "How about that three-way?"
"Mam," Darla came storming, "I'm going to ask you to leave."
"Wait," Olivia said, staring at the money, "What would we have to do?"
"Olivia!" Darla spun her around to face her, "We are not having this conversation, and we are certainly not."
"Of course we're not. I'm just talking her up while I pour more vodka down her. I'm going to get her so drunk, she won't know what happened to her. When she wakes up, we'll tell her she had the time of her life."
"!" Jezebel scoffed, "That won't work! I'm a journalist, and the first thing they teach in journalism school is how to drink. Believe me, Jezebel Hiroshima can hold her liquor. I could drink you two amateurs under the."
She collapsed, face down on the pile of credslips.
"You slipped her a mickey," Darla surmised.
"I truly did," Olivia confirmed.
"Sometimes, Sport, I don't know whether to be appalled or amazed by you."
"Yeah, I get that a lot. Come on, help me drag her to the store room. And grab your phone. I want to take some pictures."
#

End
Ugh. I'll see if I can write you something better for tomorrow. See you then.

Blog KenGreen

Today, I wound up writing about race, because the idea of writing about race frightens me (Because I know I'll get it wrong, because I'm kind of stupid), and I know that, as an artist, I need to do the things that exceed my comfort level. So here is today's offering.

PLANETFALL
By Ken Green
At orbital speeds, biting into the whisper-thin upper layers of the atmosphere feels like hitting a brick wall. Nasir and Dawn both gasped as the deceleration pushed them against their seats.
"Sorry," Nasir said, barely glancing away from the control panel, "That was rougher than I intended."
Dawn said nothing. She just sat and stared at him.
"Is there something interesting about my face, Child?" he asked.
"Everything about you is interesting," she said, wonder in her voice, "Please forgive me, I've never met anybody like you before."
"You have never met a black man before?"
"I've never met any kind of man. We don't have them on Verdia. I've spent the last two years working for the Calamarians. Before last week, I didn't even know humans came in different colors."
"And now, you do," he said, staring at his instrument display.
"I have spoken in ignorance, and given offence," she bowed her head, "Please forgive me."
"You keep saying that. You apologize constantly."
"Only to you," she said, her voice soft.
He turned to look at her. She had taken to wearing modest clothing, even to the extent of improvising a hajib out of a scarf.
"Why?" he asked.
"Because you don't like me, and I don't know why, and I'm trying not to offend you." Her lower lip trembled, "I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry."
Nasir looked away. "We are crewmates. I neither like nor dislike you."
"But that's the same thing as not liking me!" she protested, "What did I do? Is it because I'm green? Do I need to bleach my skin for you?"
"You don't need to do anything. Can we just focus on the mission? I need to land this thing."
"As you wish, respected crewmate," she turned away from him and stared out the windshield.
They sat in silence as he landed the shuttle and taxied to a parking spot.
"Well," he said, standing, "It's show time.
She smiled, then remembered not to. Standing, she shrugged out of her robe, revealing the slave harness she wore underneath. She took off the hajib and ran her fingers through her hair, making it a glorious, unruly blond crown. She kicked off her crew slippers, leaving her feet bare. Last, she attached a leash to her collar, and handed it to Nasir.
Nasir looked down at her.
"Does it not bother you," he asked," To display yourself in this manner?"
"Why would it?" she asked, "I like wearing sexy clothes. Besides, it's a good cover. Lots of Verdians are slaves. Nobody is going to look twice at us."
"I want you to know, I find this deeply distasteful."
"Why? You don't have to wear a funny outfit."
"It's degrading. It is disrespectful to you."
"But.wait, Nasir, why would you care about that? Do you care what I feel?"
"I did not say that, Child."
"Of course not. Please forgive me," she smiled, "Come on, we have a mission."
He opened the cargo ramp, and they stepped into the bright sunlight of Jubal I.

KenGreen Blog Blogs Member Public

The cracked tarmac of the landing field gave way to the dusty streets of Jubaltopia's lower market, a riot of tents, makeshift booths, and storefronts, offering drugs, weapons, and stolen goods from a thousand planets. A haze hung in the air, scented with the spices of as many cultures, and the reek of as many species. The two joined the crowds of people and creatures.
"Nasir!" a voice cried from the crowd. A figure emerged from the throng, and made a beeline to them.
"Hasim," Nasir acknowledged, with a hint of distaste. Dawn perked up, playing up her role as slave.
"Well, this is a surprise," the man said, gesturing to Dawn, "Brother Nasir, a skin trader! I guess you're not so noble after all."
"Ah, ha. A one-time deal, I assure you," Nasir said, obviously uncomfortable, "I won this little tidbit in a poker game, and I can't wait to get rid of her."
Hasim gave the girl an appraising look. "Perhaps I could take her off your hands."
"No, Eminent Master!" Dawn begged, all too convincingly, "Please do not sell Dawn, Dawn loves Master!" She threw her arms around his thigh and held on tight.
"Get off me, you harlot!" he roared, and smacked her mouth with the end of the leash. Chrisallah forgive me.
Hasim chuckled. "I can see she's a handful. I think I'll leave you the pleasure of breaking her." He reached down to give the girl a swat on the ass.
Fast as a snake, Nasir had his wrist in an iron grip.
"Brother, please do not touch my things," he hissed, his voice cold enough to freeze hydrogen.
"Of course," Hasim laughed.
"Go in peace, my brother."
Hasim scurried off, rubbing his wrist.
"We should go," Dawn whispered.
Nasir nodded, and hustled her along the busy street. They reached the counting house, and he shoved her into an alley. She scurried till she reached a panel in the wall.
"Keep a lookout," the whispered, then picked the lock one-handed.
"Listen, Dawn," Nasir whispered, opening the panel, "I'm sorry I hit you."
"Don't be," she whispered back, "That was perfect. You really sold it."
"Maybe. Still I."
"You didn't hurt me," she turned to say. It was an obvious lie. Her lip was already swelling. She turned back to the task at hand. Behind the panel was a data cable and its various connections.
"Copper wire," she scoffed, "Did they run out of twine and cavanut shells? Give me the data tap."
Nasir handed her the thingie. She unwound the induction coil, installed it, and closed the panel.
"All done," she whispered.
"What are you two doing?" asked a strange voice.
"Good job keeping a lookout," Dawn whispered.
"I'll handle it," Nasir whispered back. He turned to the voice. It belonged to a guard, dressed in temple colors.
"Friend!" Nasir greeted him, stepping forward.
"That's close enough, infidel," the guard warned him, reaching for the whistle hanging from his neck.
The guard was right. It was close enough. Close enough for Nasir to launch himself at the man, driving a straight-finger jab at his throat. The guard staggered back, choking on his own blood. Nasir followed up with a sweeping kick that put the guard on the ground, and a kick to the head to finish him.
Dawn backed herself to the wall, as if trying to merge with it.

Page 12 Blog KenGreen

More fun in space. This thing is turning into a soap opera.

"Did you kill him?" she asked, her voice trembling, her eyes wide with fear.
"Yes," he said, "We should leave now."
Keeping her back to the wall, she inched past the corpse, staying as far from it as she could.
"Hurry up," Nasir commanded, "We must go now."
She made it past the corpse. Her breaths were shallow, and her eyes were wide with fear. Nasir stepped toward her, and she shied away.
"We don't have time for this," he said. He grabbed her leash and headed for the street. Crying, she hurried to follow. We walked quickly and she struggled to keep up. They had gotten a block away when they heard a scream. Another block, and they heard whistles. Guards ran past them.
They returned to the shuttle.
"Cover yourself, girl," Nasir growled.
She bent down, grabbed the robe, then ran back to the loading ramp and threw up.
"We don't have time for this!" he yelled to her, "Get back up here, and strap in! And cover yourself!"
She walked back to the cockpit, put the robe on, and strapped in.
He closed the ramp, taxied to the runway, and took off.
Dawn sat in the co-pilot seat and sobbed quietly.
"You forgot this," Nasir said, handing her the scarf.
She wrapped her hair and shrank down in her seat.
"You killed him," Dawn said.
"Yes."
"What are we going to tell the captain?" she asked.
"I will give the captain a full report."
"I'll back up whatever you say. I'll say anything you want."
"I will say this once. I do not need you to protect me. I will give the captain a full report, and I will leave nothing out."
"I'm just saying, I'm not a rat. I'll say anything you want. You don't need to worry about me."
"I'm not worried about you, or anything," he said.
She fell silent. The shuttle climbed. The sky faded from blue to black, and they were in space.
"It was an accident," she said, piecing it together, "You hit him harder than you needed to, and he died. That's what happened."
"No. I chose to kill him."
"No," she shook her head and sobbed, "You were angry, and you hit him too hard. It was an accident. It could have happened to anybody."
"Child, this grows tiresome. I do not wish to discuss it further."
"Okay," she said, softly, "I'll be good. It's just that.
"Have you checked the feed?" Nasir asked.
"Huh?"
"The feed from the data tap. Have you checked it?"
She unstrapped and floated back to the comm station. She flipped switches and twiddled dials.
"Yeah," she said, "We have a signal. We're recording every transaction the bank makes."
"Then," Nasir said, "Our mission was a success."
"Yeah. Success," she agreed, without enthusiasm.
"Get back in your seat and strap in. We'll be docking soon."
She complied.
The shuttle accelerated to a higher orbit, and the Bon Chance came into view.
"It was my fault," Dawn said, "I made that comment about you keeping watch, and it made you angry, and you hit the guard harder than you needed to."
"No. Your comment did not make me angry. However, this conversation is starting to."
"Sorry. I'll be quiet now." She shrank into her seat.
They drew closer to the ship. She hailed the ship. The shuttle bay opened.
"How is your lip?" he asked.
"It's okay."
"Look at me." He commanded.
She obeyed.
"It's swollen. Calista will have my balls for that."
"No," Dawn said, "I'll explain it to her. It'll be fine."
The shuttle docked. The bay repressurized and they exited. Captain was waiting for them.
"How did it go?" he asked, then glanced at Dawn, "What did you do to my comm tech?"
"My liege," Dawn said, curtseying, "It was an accident."
"Calista is going to have your balls for that," Captain observed.
"Calista is going to have what for what?" Calista asked, walking toward them.
"M'Lady!" Dawn rushed to her. "I was my fault, I."
Calista glanced at Dawn, walked past her, and punched Nasir, putting him on the deck.
"Unacceptable," she said, and turned to Dawn.
"Dawn, go to the med bay and have Doc look at that. I'll get your report later. And take off that stupid scarf."
See you in 24

Blog KenGreen

"Yes, M'Lady." Dawn turned and started walking away.
"This is your fault," Calista told Captain, "That's it, no more field missions for her. From now on, she stays on this ship, where she's safe."
"No, M'Lady!" Dawn ran back to confront her, "I did everything I was ordered, I completed my task. Please don't punish me for succeeding."
"Dawn," Calista hissed, "I gave you an order. Go to sick bay. Now."
"But, M'Lady."
"Dawn, go to sick bay."
"M'Lady, please let me speak!"
"Dawn!" Calista shouted, "Go to sick bay, then go to your bunk! I will deal with you later."
#
"Rassafrassin rickafrackin." Dawn swore, walking along the empty corridor, clutching the cold pack to her lip. She climbed into her bunk, changed into her sleepshirt, and threw her pillow into the corridor. Then she tried bouncing the stress ball she had swiped from sickbay, but it wouldn't bounce properly, so she just brooded.
"Hey, Dawn," she heard Stan's voice call to her, "Are you in there?"
She drew the curtain open.
"Crewmate Hayes", she said.
"Call me Stan. Everybody else does." He held up the pillow. "I found Mister Pillow here in the corridor. Did you two have a fight?"
"How did you know I call him Mister Pillow?"
"We live on a spaceship, Kid. Sound carries. Everybody knows what you do with Mister Pillow."
She blushed, her green cheeks growing red, took the pillow and rested her head on it. "Thanks for bringing him back."
"I know it's none of my business," Stan said, "But, I have to say, I think he's using you."
"A gentleman would not make sport of such an intimate matter," she observed.
"Well, you're not talking to a gentleman, are you? I'm a pirate."
"Yeah, well, I thought I was one, too. Turns out I'm not."
"What are you talking about?"
Dawn started to explain, but Calista showed up.
"Get lost, Hayes," she said. When he was gone, she turned to Dawn, said, "Shove over," and climbed in with her.
"Do we share a bed now M'Lady?" Dawn asked, without enthusiasm.
"Yeah, well, don't get any funny ideas. My college days are over."
"Oh. M'Lady." Dawn said, her voice devoid of expression, "Thine wit is as sharp as."
"Shut up. Just shut up with the 'M'Lady' crap for a while. If we're going to fight, we should fight as equals."
"I do not wish to fight, M'Lady."
"Neither do I. But I think maybe we need to. There's something we need to work out. So stop calling me 'M'Lady', and tell me what you really feel."
"I.don't think I can."
"Sure you can," Calista said, "We'll make it a game. As long as we stay in this bunk, we're equals. You can say anything you want, as long as it's what you really feel."
"That sounds like a very dangerous game. For me."
"It isn't. I'll go first. When I saw you were hurt, I was furious. Not at you, but at Nasir. His job was to protect you, and he failed. Okay, I went. Your turn."
"Very well, when the captain told me I was going on the mission, I was very excited, because I actually felt like I was part of the crew."
"Of course you're part of the crew."
"Oh. Did my turn end?" Dawn asked, "Or can I continue to speak?"
"Yeah, sorry. Keep talking."
"I felt that the captain trusted me, and that this was my chance to prove myself, and if I did a good job, at least he would respect me."
"I respect you!"
"No. You most assuredly do not. You are kind to me, you cherish me, and sometimes I think you love me, but have never respected me. You treat me like a cosset lamb."
"What's a."
"A pet, my lady. A living toy."
"Dawn, you are not a pet. It's just."
"What?"
"It's just that, you're so tiny, and the thought of you getting hurt, it just makes me crazy."
Dawn sighed. "I will always be tiny. I'm Verdian. As a species, we are small, we are weak, and the only way we survive is by making ourselves useful to others. I want to be useful. I want to have value. I want to be part of this crew."
"You are part of this crew, Dawn."
"But I'm not a full member, am I? If you insulate me from risks that others are exposed to, you hold me separate from them. I can't be a part of this crew if I don't run the same risks they do."
Calista reached over and tousled Dawn's hair. "I don't want to put you in danger."
"I will always be in danger, M'Lady. We live in space. There are a thousand ways to die out here. Confining me to this ship will not make me immortal."
"I guess you're right," Calista said.
They sat without talking.
"Dawn," Calista asked, "Do Verdians have some sort of freaky mutant power to make people want to protect them?"
"No, M'Lady. We have no mutant powers."
"Maybe.some kind of pheromone? Something that makes human women go crazy?"
"I don't think so. I've never heard of such a thing."
"Then why am I being so weird? When I saw your lip, I went nuts. I wanted to kill Nasir. Even more than I usually do. I don't like seeing you hurt."
"I'm not some delicate flower. I'm not some porcelain doll. I've been hit before. I can take it. Please trust me. Let me prove myself to you."
Calista bowed her head and considered.
"Okay," she said, "I've reconsidered my policy. If another surface mission comes up, and we need a comm tech for it, I'll consider sending you."
"Thank you, M'Lady."
"How are you feeling now, Dawn? Are you still angry with me?"
"No, M'Lady. I'm exhausted."
"Well, tough. You have work to do. So get off your ass and march it to your work station. We need you to analyze the data feed from the bank."
She drew the curtain open and left the bunk. Dawn leaned out and watched her walk away. Then she drew the curtain closed and turned to Mister Pillow.
"Duty calls, my love," she said to him, and gave him a kiss, "I'll see you tonight."
She slipped on some shorts and her ship slippers, hopped out of the bunk, and headed toward the bridge.

End.

KenGreen Blog

I thought I try something different, try changing gears. Write something more serious, instead of the wacky stuff I usually write.

MARS IS A HARSH MISTRESS
By Ken Green
When Kath walked into the collective, everybody was gathered around the vidscreen.
"Kath!" Marsha waved her over, "Come look! The Carterites blew up a transport!"
Kath joined the group and looked at the screen. A UE transport, on its side, burned listlessly in the Martian desert. Under it, the news crawl read: 90 Marines Killed.
"Where is this?" Kath asked.
"Reagan spaceport, just outside Barsoom City." Marsha grinned.
Kath looked to the faces of people around her.
"Why is everybody smiling?" she asked, "This is horrible."
"No, Kath," Marsha said, "This is justice."
Kath looked back to the screen. The transport continued to burn. Uniformed figures were dragging bodies out of it. Justice? A bunch of nineteen-year-old kids just burned to death. Who does that help?
"This isn't justice," she said, "This is trouble."
Old Dan, manager of the collective, turned to her and said, "Maybe you need to shut the hell up and figure out which side you're on."
"Sides? How can you talk about sides when." Kath noticed that everybody was looking at her. She turned from the group and grabbed a cart. She steered it down the feed aisle and filled it with bags of shrimp food.
Marsha sidled up to her. "You might want to leave some room for people food, Sweetie," she said, her voice hushed, "Stock up while you can."
"What are you talking about?" Kath whispered. "The collective isn't going anywhere."
Marsha nodded toward the screen. "Things are happening. People are scared. Things might get tight around here."
"You don't think there's going to be a war, do you?" Kath whispered.
"I don't know," Marsha whispered back, "I'm just saying, be ready. I know things got weird between us, but I still care about you."
She walked away. Kath steered her cart to the people food aisle and did a quick calcution. She picked up some staples, some cocktail sauce, and some selections from the desperate and single section, and headed for the checkout.
Old Dan rang her up.
"Your credit's getting pretty thin," he observed.
"I harvest next week," she told him, "You know I'm good for it."
He turned his bored eyes to the cart.
"You feed your shrimp better than you feed yourself," he observed.
"My babies have to come first. They're paying my mortgage." She pushed her cart out the door to her truck. As she loaded up, she glanced back to the collective. Through the window, she saw Marsha talking with another girl.
"I still care about you," Kath muttered to the thin Martian air, "What the hell does that mean?"
She put on her breather mask. It's not a good idea to cry on Mars. The tears freeze on your face. The cargo secure under a net in the cargo bed, she climbed into the cab and told the truck to take her home. She sat lengthwise across the bench seat, watched the desert crawl by, and adjusted the settings on her filter mask, increasing the NO2 and THC feed.
"If you can't change the world, change your mind," she muttered to the big red emptiness.
The unchanging view and the rocking of the truck made her drowsy.
"There's not going to be a war," she explained to the desert. "There can't be. Earth has all the ships, and all the guns. What would we fight them with, pointed sticks? We don't even have sticks. How many trees are there on Mars?"
She reached down to the spare jacket she kept in the footwell, wadded it up, and tucked it under her head. It was a two-hour drive home, and the truck knew the way. She drifted off to sleep.
#
She woke up when the truck stopped. The door was yanked open, and hands dragged her out and dumped her onto the cold hard ground. A figure, silhouetted against the noontime sun, loomed over her.
"What? What's happening?" Still groggy from her nap, and half blinded by the sun, she had no idea what was happening.
"Are you Kathleen O'Hara?" the figure demanded.
"Yeah, that's me, what do you."
"Good."
The figure raised its booted foot to stomp on her face. She rolled and brought her arms up to ward off the blow. Another figure kicked her in the ribs. She tried to roll under the truck, but they pulled her away from it. She curled up as best she could, but the kicks and punches kept coming. She felt things breaking inside her, and then she felt nothing but pain. She felt a kick to her head, and then everything went dark.
#
"What happened?" Consciousness returned more slowly than it had left, as if she were swimming up to a dull awareness of bright light and pain.
"Oh, good, she's awake." A woman's voice said, "This is Jezebel Hiroshima, coming to you live and direct from Mercy Hospital, Barsoom, Mars. We are speaking to Kathleen O'Hara, victim of a savage beating, allegedly at the hands of United Earth Marines. Can you tell our viewers how you're feeling, Miss O'Hara?"
"What?" Kath blinked in the light, "Where am I?"
"Miss O'Hara is obviously disoriented. You're in a hospital, Miss O'Hara."
"Hospital? I can't pay for that!" She tried to rise from the bed

And that's as far as I got, because it wasn't being fun. See you in 24. Maybe I'll bring some fun with me.

KenGreen Blog - Page 12

Content warning: Today's offering contains crude sexual humor, because writing fast and dirty means writing whatever pops into my head, and sometimes stupid humor makes me laugh. And, for some reason, I'm more interested in exploring the relationship between Dawn and Calista than I am in figuring out a decent plot. Maybe this is just another thing I need to work through so I get on to the next thing. So I'm just going to drop this here, and hope it doesn't offend everybody, and get back to working on next week's story, which will also contain crude sexual humor. I'm sorry. They're pirates. They don't always act polite, and Calista has a mean streak.

DISTRESS CALL
By Ken Green
"Oh, Mister Pillow," Dawn whispered to her pillow, "Of course I want to. You know I love you. I burn for you. But I cannot betray my lady's trust. Our's is a forbidden love."
She moved, and a soft moan escaped her lips.
"Mister Pillow! You are a devil, to tempt a young maiden so. Every part of me cries out for you.Very well, but just this once. Be gentle, I beg you. This will be my first time."
The privacy curtain whipped open, and First Mate Calista poked her head into Dawn's bunk.
"Don't believe a word she says, Mister Pillow! She's a slut! The whole ship knows it!" Calista cackled.
Horrified, Dawn pulled the bedsheet to cover herself.
"M'Lady! Can a maiden not have privacy in her own bedchamber?"
"Not on my ship, she can't," Calista sniffed, "Hey, why does your bunk smell like nutmeg? Have you been baking in here?"
"Yes," Dawn nodded, "Baking. That's exactly what I have been doing."
Calista leaned in further.
"No, wait. It's you! Why do you smell like nutmeg? Is that what you smell like when you get excited?"
"M'Lady, please! We do not speak of such things!"
Calista staggered back into the corridor, doubled over in laughter.
"Oh, my God! Every time I think you can't get any weirder, you prove me wrong!" She laughed.
"I'm ever so glad that my bodily functions amuse you," Dawn said.
"Oh, cheer up. You should be happy," Calista said, "Because it smells like Christmas in there!" She laughed some more.
"Did my lady walk all this way just to share her mirth with me?"
"What? Oh, no. I came here to tell you to get to work. We just received a distress call, and I want you to analyze it. So kiss Mister Pillow goodnight and get your ass to the bridge."
"I'll be right there, M'Lady. I just need to get dressed."
Dawn pulled the curtain closed and got dressed. Then she opened the curtain and climbed down to the deck.
See you in 24

KenGreen Blog Public Member Blogs - Page 12

Here is this week's story. We're still aboard the pirate ship Bon Chance,where Dawn is still finding her place among the crew. This story also has sophomoric sex humor in it, it's what I have to offer. Sorry, I'm not Tolstoy. Here it is:

STAFF MEETING
By Ken Green
“Looking at this quarter’s numbers, I’d say we were doing pretty good,” Captain Skilling said to his senior crew members, who were seated around the mess hall table, “With the navy off our back, we’ve been able to focus on hitting large merchant ships, and…”
“Uh-huh,” First Mate Calista moaned in pleasure as Dawn, her maid and the ship’s communications technician, braided her hair.
“And, based on that, our second quarter projections are…” he continued.
“…so good.” Calista said.
“And… ” He turned to his first mate. “Dammit, Cal, why are you two doing that here?”
“Because, Tom, this feels amazing. You should grow your hair long again, just so you could feel this. Dawn has amazing hands.”
“Thank you, M’Lady,” Dawn said, beaming with pride.
“But… ” Captain said, “We’re having a meeting here.”
“Shall I stop, M’Lady?” Dawn asked, sounding concerned.
“No, you shall not.” Calista said, “Did I tell you to stop? Shut up, Tom. This relaxes me.”
“Well, that’s great for you,” Captain said, “But for the rest of us, it’s just distracting.”
“It is more than that,” Nasir said, “This borders on exploitation. You misuse this girl.”
“Nonsense,” Calista said, “She likes doing this. Dawn, tell them you like doing this.”
“Oh, I do!” Dawn exulted, “I find pleasure in obedience. It is an honor and a joy to serve M’Lady’s needs.”
“See, that’s something I’ve been wondering about,” Chief Engineer O’Hara chimed in, “Among the needs you fulfill for her. When you two are alone…”
“Chief…” Calista’s tone was a warning.
“Does she ever make you, you know…” He moved his hand to his mouth and performed an obscene pantomime of an intimate act.
Dawn frowned her incomprehension. “No, M’Lady has never asked me to lick my fingers. Why would she? It seems like a curious request…”
Dawn’s eyes grew wide with realization. Her cheeks reddened, and she stopped braiding.
“Oh, crap.” Calista said.
“M’Lady,” the girl glanced down to her lady’s eyes, “Is he implying that we have ess ee ex together?”
“No, Dawn, he didn’t mean that at all,” Calista assured her.
“Well, yeah,” O’Hara said, “I actually did.”
All other conversations ended.
“You rogue!” Dawn dropped the ends of Calista’s hair, and stepped out from behind her, raising an accusing finger.
“I thought we were friends,” Dawn’s eyes burned with indignation, and her voice dripped venom, “But you have revealed yourself to be a serpent, a blackguard.”
“Look what you’ve done,” Calista said to Captain, “You’ve upset her. Does that make you happy? You know how hard it is to calm her down!”
“What did I do? I just said…”
“Well, you better fix this. She’s giving me a pedicure later, and the last thing I want is an angry foot massage. Her fingers are tiny, but they’re surprisingly strong.”
“Father of lies! Slanderer! How dare you assail my lady’s honor? She is pure, and she is kind, and…and you…” she turned to Captain, “Why does my liege sit idle? This man has challenged our lady’s honor is challenged, and yet he still lives? You shame me, my lord, and dishonor this house. This is surely the darkest of days.”
She hung her head and wept.
“It’s not a house, Dawn, it’s a ship…” Captain pointed out.
Enraged, Dawn bared her teeth. “You would hide behind words when a man would fight? Have I sworn fealty to a coward? Does my liege truly hold his manhood so cheap?” Saddened, tears on her cheeks, she turned from him.
“Hey,” Captain objected, “What did she say about my manhood?”
“What manhood?” Calista asked, crossing her arms.
Dawn turned to Lt. Hayes.
“Crewmate Hayes,” she implored, “Surely you will not sit by and witness this injustice.”
Hayes shook his head.
“Kid,” He said, “I love you like a daughter, but most of the time, I have no idea what you’re saying.”
She turned to Nasir.
“Nasir, in truth we have had our differences, but I know you are a man of integrity. Your martial prowess is a thing of legend, and you fear no man. Surely you will rise to do what’s right.”
Nasir did not rise.
“Child, do not try to drag me into your medieval nonsense. I find you tiresome at the best of times.”
“Do my eyes deceive me?” Dawn asked, “Is there not a man in this room? Has my lady no champion? Will no one defend my lady’s honor?” Her tiny breast heaving, her eyes rimmed with angry tears, she glanced at every face in the room.
“Very well,” she said softly, “The task falls to me.”
She bent her knees. From her boot she drew a wicked looking stiletto.
“She has a knife,” Captain said, “Why does she have a knife? Who gave her a knife?”
As steady and remorseless as a glacier, Dawn advanced toward O’Hara.
“Uh, Cap?” O’Hara stared at the stiletto in Dawn’s hand, “Hey, this isn’t funny anymore. Call her off, Calista.”
“Stand, coward,” Dawn said, her voice pitched as low as she could manage, “Stand, draw steel, and face thy doom.”
“Tom!” Calista whispered, “Do something!”
“What am I supposed to do?” he whispered back.
“Punch him. Lay him out on the deck. It’ll shut her up, and we can get on with the meeting. My toenails don’t paint themselves, you know.”
“But, I can’t just punch him, I’m a the captain.”
“You’re a pirate captain. You should be punching people left and right. Especially if you ever want to get laid again.”
“Fine. I’ll do it,” Captain said, and stood.
“Back off, Dawn,” he said, “It’s not your job to discipline the crew. It’s mine.”
“My liege!” Dawn exulted, “Thy spine has healed!” She rushed back to her place at her lady’s side.
Captain walked to where Dawn had stood.
“Get up, O’Hara,” he ordered.
“What? Why?” O’Hara sputtered.
“I said, get up.”
O’Hara stood.
“What are you going to…oh, crap.”
Captain took a step forward and punched O’Hara, putting his shoulder into it. O’Hara’s head snapped back, and he fell, inert, to the deck.
“Is it wrong that that just made me hot?” Calista whispered.
“No, M’Lady,” Dawn whispered back, having resumed the braiding, “For I feel it too. Mister Pillow is in for a rough night.”
“Yeah,” Calista said, “That’s…Eww! Dawn, I don’t need to know that!”
“Forgive me, M’Lady. I have needs.”
Captain returned to his chair.
“So, like I was saying, We’re looking forward to a strong second quarter…”
End

And there it is. Maybe tomorrow will bring something better. Come back in 24 and we can find out together.