July 2012 Writing Contest- Enter at your own risk!

It’s that time for the July writing contest.  We’ve gone past the one year mark now since the contest first started and I’m excited to see it has continued to have a good turnout.  Past contests have had much cleaner topics, but after some requests were made I decided to open this one month to greater creative writing in the romantic department.

This month will be smut month, if you haven’t figured that out already.  For this reason, if you are the slightest bit squeamish about erotic tales, you might want to bow out of this post now.  Even the stipulations are more graphic than normal.

For those who are new to the contest, or haven’t participated in a while, pay close attention to all the details. The stipulations and rules are listed below.  For further information, stop by the Monthly Writing Contest page to see the complete listing of rules and other information you should know (along with who the previous winners are).

You will have until July 30th at midnight (EDT) to submit your entry. On July 31st, I will announce the finalists for the contest and open up voting for three days.  There are typically three finalists, but if more than ten entries are submitted, I may select four.  It remains my right to use assistance from outside sources in the selection process, if I cannot decide easily. Those who judge will have no stake in this contest or its outcome.

Now, here are the stipulations, prizes and rules (there is one new one).  Follow all guidelines closely or you will be disqualified!


The first and second place winners will each receive a prize.  First place will receive a $20 Amazon gift card, and the runner-up will get a $10 Amazon gift card.  Both will be announced after voting is over on July 2nd.


*Warning this month’s stipulations are of a graphic nature*

1) The theme is smut.  Must involve a sex scene between at least two consenting adults.

2) There should be a black ribbon involved at some point in the story.

3) Cannot take place on a bed.  Interesting locations get a bonus.

4) The following words/phrases must not appear in the story unless you are willing to use all of them:

man-root, white liquid/cream, phallus, cunt, bazooms, “hot throbbing center of her fiery core”, tatortots, mighty tool, manly tool, tender tool, clammerjammer, Black and Decker, Gizmo, “ploughing of her fertile bottomland”, drool, turgid, honeypot, snapper, coconuts, oozing, saturate, meatsicle, heat seeking love missile, suppurating.

Note– All of the words above were suggested by Amazon Top Reviewers with very active imaginations when I asked them several months ago.  Yes, I laughed while typing it up for this contest.

5) The below statement must be pasted at the top of your entry:


6) Word count: 450-850 Words


General Rules:

1) No extreme language. There are people here who do not want to see it and I prefer we not have anything that might be too offensive to the average reader. Light profanity is acceptable.  *Waived for July 2012 Writing Contest*

2) Making me laugh will gain you favor in my selection, though it isn’t a requirement. All genres of writing are welcome (if you are erotica, try to keep it mild please).

3) Post your story in the comments section of this post. Do not email it to me.

4) Ensure you include your name (even if it is only a first name or nickname) and a title for the story. Neither of these go toward word-count.

5) Anyone who has won a prize in any of the last three months is not eligible for a finalist position. They can submit a story if they wish, just for fun, but they cannot win.

6) Any story submission posted here can be posted elsewhere AFTER the competition is over. The only thing I ask is that you put a disclaimer saying that it was written for a contest on this blog (a link back here would be nice).

7) Must be your original writing that has never been published or posted elsewhere prior to this.

8) You are allowed to email me about ONE typo mistake/word change per contest that I will go in and fix for you.  Anything beyond that will remain “as is”.  In the past I did not fix any so be grateful you get one now.  ***New Rule***

9)Anyone may enter the contest (regardless of country of origin) but must be able to receive an Amazon gift card (they are not transferable).  I will convert US currency to the currency of the Amazon country site requested, based on current exchange rates.

10) In the event of a tie during the finalist voting round, I will ask (at a minimum) three previous winners who are not involved in this round of the contest to vote anonymously (via email to me) and use the majority of their votes to make the decision on who will win.


That is everything you need to know.  Come back on Tuesday (July 31st) to see who the finalists are and vote in the poll for your favorite candidate (or maybe even yourself).   The poll will stay open until midnight (EDT) Thursday, August 2nd.  That is approximately three days for voting.  On Friday, the 3rd, I will announce the winner and runner-up.  They will both receive their Amazon gift cards at that time via email.   Good luck!


~ by Suzie on July 23, 2012.

33 Responses to “July 2012 Writing Contest- Enter at your own risk!”

  1. Charity Parkerson
    “Black Ribbon Fantasy”
    755 words

    Warning- The following story contains graphic scenes of a sexual nature. Read at your own risk!

    Holly reached up and adjusted her mask for the hundredth time, praying that no one recognized her. When she first received the invitation to attend the Adonis Fantasy Masquerade Ball, her heart had frozen in her chest. Grecian Fantasies were famous for their naughty-nobody-knows-your-name parties, but she had never dreamed that she would one day attend. Now that she was here, Holly felt breathless over the sight of so many naked bodies gyrating to the beat of the heart-pounding music. She glanced again at the handwritten words scribbled at the bottom of her invitation, even though she knew them by heart.
    “Wear something naughty. I’ll be the one wearing black.”
    That seemed a bit vague when she first read it, but now that she was here staring at the sea of naked men, it seemed ludicrous.
    Squaring her shoulders, she dove into the crowd determined to show a brave face. It wasn’t easy searching for one particular man while staring at the ceiling, but she feared it was either the ceiling or fun bits. However, after accidently brushing the bare ass of three different people she forced herself to pay closer attention. Just as she began to lose hope, the crowd parted, and there he was. His blond hair was a little shaggy and he needed a shave, but his gorgeous lean-muscled body more than made up for that. She might have never spotted him, since he was every bit as nude as every other man in the room, except he held her gaze boldly and there was a solid black ribbon tied around his cock.
    Her feet moved in his direction as her breathing ratcheted up and she stopped a foot away. “This game has rules,” he reminded her. Holly’s mind scrambled to remember the list of rules, and she ended up drawing a blank.
    “If you want me you must take the ribbon and tie it around your wrist.”
    Holly thought she’d come this far and she would kick herself for the rest of her life if she did not do what she came here to do, have hot unadulterated sex with this gorgeous man in any way that he would have her. Therefore, without an ounce of hesitation she wrapped her fingers around his erection and unwound the ribbon slowly making sure to torture him as much as possible in the process. She moved a little quicker when it came to tying it around her own wrist.
    “Now you have accepted me as your master and you must do as I say,” he reminded her. Holly nodded that she understood and then waited silently for his next instructions. “You need something to drink. Let’s go to the bar.” He led her to edge of a long cherry wood bar and ordered her a drink that she had never heard of. Any other time she would have been pissed over this sort of chauvinist behavior, but this is what she was here for, and her body was already reacting to the domination. Holly turned to face the bar when her drink arrived. His body pressed against her from behind and he began rubbing his hardened cock against her ass. With his hands on her hips, he began slowly pushing her short tight skirt up and over her hips. Holly gasped as the air brushed her bottom. She started to protest his actions, but he quickly dipped two fingers inside of her already soaking wet canal, and the words died on a moan.
    “Brace your hands against the bar and spread your legs wide.”
    At his words, she shot him a panicked look over her shoulder. “People can see us.”
    “No one is watching us. They are busy with their own pursuits.”
    She glanced around the room and realized that he was right. There was not a single person looking in their direction. With a deep breath for courage, she did as he asked. She felt the head of his cock probing at her entrance as he used her juices to moisten the tip. He used his weight against her, bending her over further. When he entered her fully, she tightened her inner muscles around him drawing a moan from his lips. At the sound, a smile touched her lips and her confidence soared. When she wiggled her hips experimentally, he hissed between his teeth. “Damn, woman,” he groaned. “This has been our best anniversary yet.”

  2. I can hardly wait to read these entries!

  3. Cinderella and her Gizmos…A Love Story.


    Storybook Romance
    by Incognina

    Cinderella wandered deeper into the forest, it grew darker and darker, but she could not pause. “Since marrying that Prince, life has sucked major,” she fumed. “Who knew my monster-in-law was going to put out a contract on me. I was willing to walk away for seven mil plus the house, but she had to get ugly about things. And now I’m running for my life, lost and hungry.” As she stumbled through the lengthening shadows, she saw a patch of greenery. “Those look like man-roots,” she cried. “Yes, yes, big firm man-roots, my favorite.” Using her tiny hands, she pulled and pulled at the unyielding root, tugging at it slowly and then with increasing speed, squeezing and pressing it with her hands, pulling at it, faster and faster as her hunger grew. She squeezed it hard, then harder still, and finally it came out of the ground and into her hands. Delicately she peeled back the skin and licked hungrily at the white liquid/cream, her lips and teeth teasing the tip of the root, feeling its fleshy heaviness against her tongue before taking a huge bite. “Damn that’s good,” she said, devouring it entirely. “Not as good as that rabies infected wolverine we used to get at the palace. Why does an infectious and potentially lethal virus always bring out the best in meat?”

    In the distance Cinderella spied a small cottage and made her way to the front door. “This must be it, the place those dwarves were talking about.” She knocked, and when no one answered, she slowly pushed the door open and stepped inside. “Not bad,” she said, looking around. “But it could use some dusting. I wish my maid Phyllis was here. I’d like to poke around and explore the place too, and no one was better at poking and probing into all sorts of places than Phyllis”

    Cinderella remembered the day she arrived at the castle and first met her young serving woman. She had just returned from a parade where the realm’s finest soldiers and military technology were on display. “This is my heat seeking love missile,” cried the Prince proudly. “Go ahead, touch it…stroke it. Faster, faster. Wrap your fingers around it and really squeeze..OH, OH, OH… oh hell.”

    “Oh dear, is it supposed to explode like that? So quickly? Just five seconds after you press the knob?” Cinderella asked. The prince just sulked. Sad and alone, Cinderella returned to her room where a young woman awaited.

    “Muh num ith Phallus,” the girl said. “I cunt thpeak rait becurth I huf thith exthtra long pointed thongue…it’th hurd ath a rock, thee…” she said, thrusting out ten inches of hardened muscle and darting it in and out, almost faster than the eye could see, pushing her thick lips apart with each thrust. “Lut me muk you thumthung to eat, you luk thturved.” And with that, she disappeared, returning with a baked apple. “How lovely,” cried Cinderella. “She’s a real beauty, that apple. And fresh out of the oven…you can see the hot throbbing center of her fiery core, just bubbling away…and soooo juicy. But it is too hot for me to eat, you have it.”

    “Thunkth, muthtruth,” cried Phyllis, her long, hard and remarkably heat-resistant tongue piercing the delicate flesh of the apple, swirling, probing, penetrating deep, deep down into the hot sweet goodness. “I luk thweeth and really guv the honeypot a workout on thith one,” said Phyllis. “Oh,” groaned Cinderalla. “Watching you eat that makes me realize how hungry I am. Fortunately I have a bag of Tatortots… I want to suck on their hard frozen tips.” She groaned again, her hand reaching into the cupboard for her snack but coming up with a mighty tool, a manly tool, instead.

    “Hey, who took the tatortots and replaced them with this Black and Decker gizmo?” Cinderella cried, pulling out a fold up clamming rake and falling backward as the weight of the tool forced her off balance. At this moment, seven dwarves forced themselves roughly into her chamber, plunging inside her secret place. They were surprised to see the beautiful and voluptuous Cinderella spread-eagled on her back and gripping her clammerjammer. “Come live with us, Cinderella” cried Grumpy. “Leave the evil intrigues of the palace and we will take good care of you in our cottage in the woods. We will give you acres and acres of the best farmland and help you become the richest farmer in the kingdom.” “I will plough her fertile bottomland, plough it long and hard,” cried Sleepy. “I will force my seedplanter deep, deep into those moist furrows, push it in deeper and harder and faster, over and over and over again.”

    “And I will press down on those snowy mounds, crushing them flat under my calloused palms,” rasped Doc. ‘And after I’m done with them, you can plow them too, forcing your seedplanter between them, while the rest of us watch.”

    “And I will make my famous red snapper and coconut chowder oozing with butter and saturated fats for our harvest dinner,” cried Sneezy who rarely got the point. “Just be sure you leave room for our meatsicles, Sneezy,” said Doc. “You know how we love to slip you a couple of those after dinner.”

    Suddenly Cinderalla turned away and began to cough. Her face turned redder and redder as she choked and gasped, clutching her throat. Suddenly she reached into her mouth and pulled out a black ribbon. “What the hell???” she said, completely perplexed. “Well, at least that’s out of the way and we can proceed with the narrative.”

    So that’s how Cinderella found herself in the cottage of the seven dwarves. “Maybe this will work out, maybe I’ll be happy here. I mean, there are seven of them, and none of them seems to have anything horrible or suppurating. Seven does seem like a lot though…I mean I can understand one, two, even three, maybe five…” she said, counting the possibilities. “But with seven, I’ll have men coming out of my ears!”

  5. Unfortunately I must withdraw myself from this competition because if you look carefully, there is no sex, none.Nada. Zip. Alas. Ain’t nobody gettin’ it on, gettin’ their ashes hauled, takin’ it downtown, uptown, frontdoor, backdoor or Chicago style. But smut is not about prizes, smut is about art.

    • Despite the entry not being eligible, I’m glad you shared it with us, INCOGNINA. That smut story was most certainly a work of art. It will live on in all its glory on this hallowed page for admirers to oooh, aaah, and appreciate!

  6. Charity, how cool! Great ending. Usually you can spot a surprise ending a mile away, but your worked perfectly and made me grin!

  7. MOTDP, I must take exception with you. Of course my own own modesty makes all smut distasteful, but this list goes too far. TATER TOTS? How dare you. How dare you take poor innocent Tater Tots, a food that children and adults alike can enjoy and something which provides us with nutrition and crunchy goodness and besmirch them in such a manner. When you said Mistress of the Dark Path, I naturally thought you meant you had excellent night vision because of your healthy diet and exercise regimen and did not trip when walking up the street. I see now that some double entendre was at work, and trust the French to come up with a word to mean sneaking in dirty stuff. Well, I am shocked. Shocked and appalled.


    • NyiNya, I do love when you pretend outrage. It certainly wasn’t me who suggested tator tots, but I do find it to be a comical addition to the list. As for my night vision, it is better than average. I’m actually quite light sensitive so sunglasses are important or else I might trip on the sidewalk in daylight, but not at night. Truly, though, I am THE Mistress of the dark path. That street in your neighborhood that you’re so afraid of — it’s me who haunts it with my dark presence. Beware and stay to the light “for the night is dark and full of terrors” (Game of Thrones- Melisandre).

      • It’s you? That is some busy street because it is also haunted by Mrs. Schneider. She lurks there hoping to catch passersby so she can show them pictures of when she and the late and lamented Mr. Schneider, Sigismund to his friends, used to dance at Ciro’s back in the day when she only weighed in at 300 lbs. The night be dark and full of terrors, but the dark doesn’t have 82 photos of the grandchildren either. You want horror? You think your vampires are terrifying? We have elderly widows. So far we haven’t been able to trade them for zombies, ominous gray entities or were-wolverines. You guys up for a switch? Your vampires are afraid of mirrors, crosses and daylight. The only thing that frightens The Elderly Widows is the TV Remote. They rear up out of nowhere brandishing the things. “Darling, can you come up for a minute and look on this remote already, it’s giving me a cardio. I’m pressing a button and all I’m getting is messages about some boxing. And I can’t find Merv. Where’s Merv. He’s such a nice young man. Dead? What do you mean dead? When? You’re kidding. Okay, no problem. I’ll watch Phil Donahure. He’s nice too. He married Shari Lewis. Who, Marlo Thomas? No, I never heard of her.”

        Vampires. HAH!

  8. Wait a minute, was Charity the only reader with ball…er ballet slippers big enough to face this challenge? For shame, the rest of you. You still have five hours. Get writing.

  9. MaryG
    848 words
    “Tell me you want this.”

    “That would be a lie.”

    “Then tell me to stop.”


    A muscle clenched in his jaw as he fought for control. Shirt unbuttoned, pants long gone. The most beautiful, painful-looking erection that I’d ever seen.

    I thought I might cry. Or beat my head against a wall.

    So I began to babble. I’m an excellent babbler — just ask anyone.

    Trying to extricate myself from this latest embarrassment, I noticed that Steve was looking at me. Amused? Better than angry.

    “Do you have any idea what you just said?”

    A delicate blush suffused my face as I tried to recall what my thoughts had been moments earlier. And if I’d spoken them aloud. My head began to clear and memory returned. Heat spread further down my body. Who knew breasts could blush?

    Good thing I wasn’t completely naked. Just mostly. There was still a scrap of silk left on me – a few inches of fabric. Soaked. But there.

    “Um…’scuse me for a moment.”

    Not waiting for a response, I headed for his private bathroom. Cool water sluiced on my body as I made the best of a sponge bath. Without the sponge.

    I jumped as a knock sounded on the door. “Would you like the rest of your clothes?”

    “YES! Oh, YES!!”

    Silence, followed by a deep sigh.

    “You know – I’d hoped to hear that from you. But in a different context.”

    I went to the door, opening it a few inches. Held out my hand.

    Slowly, each piece was passed to me.

    First the dress. Bias-cut. A beautiful waterfall of colors. Brand-new. I’d convinced myself that it was worth it, preparing for the most wonderful night of my life.

    La Perla bra, the mate to the panties that I’d had to wash and wring out just moments ago. Stockings, garters. My first (and probably last) pair of FMPs.

    Sad reminders that it didn’t pay to get my hopes up.

    I must have said the last part out loud. Next thing I knew, Steve pushed his way into the bathroom.
    Glaring at me he said, “YOU got YOUR hopes up? In case you hadn’t noticed, MINE STILL ARE!”

    With that, he unzipped his pants for the second time that night (as far as I knew) and cautiously eased them down.

    I tried to move past him. His hand reached out and grabbed my arm.

    “I won’t hurt you. You know that. But no more games.”

    “It was never a game…” my voice trailed off as he pushed me back against the counter. Letting go of my arm, his hands gently touched my face. Holding my head still, he kissed my cheeks. Closing my eyes, I felt a feather-light touch on each lid. I parted my lips to tell him, “Stop.”

    Surely I meant to say that.

    What came out, though, was a throaty groan. Sounding needy, even to my own ears.

    His tongue began a duet with mine as we pulled each other closer.

    A brief moment of sanity made me wonder about the cleaning crew.

    Steve picked me up, cradling me in his arms as he took us both back in to his office. “No one else is here, Laura. They’ve all gone for the night.”

    I thought that he was going to put me down on his couch, but he walked toward the open balcony door. There may have been someone watching out there, but the odds were against it. Besides – they’d need a pair of night vision goggles or camcorder.

    I decided to forget the possibility of winding up a youtube sensation and just let myself fly free. Steve must have sensed this, because the next thing I knew he had propped me on top of the balcony railing. Holding tightly, one hand behind my neck, the other roaming over my body. He parted my legs, standing between them. This time he did not ask me if I wanted him. I would have said, “Yes” if he had. He also didn’t ease himself into me. One thrust. Stretching me. Some pain… it had been a very long time for me. Something I needed to not think about right now.

    Then — no longer could I think of anything but Steve. Us. He’d begun moving, in and out. Slowly, voluptuously I moved with him. His eyes stared into mine, not letting me hide.

    I could feel the pressure building. He stopped moving, then rubbed my clit very gently, teasing. I spasmed, crying out in joy. In release. From so much.

    His hips again thrust forward. Faster.

    Yelling, he stilled. Lifting his head up, he kissed me one more time, then pulled out of my body. He lifted me off the railing and continued to hold me in his arms.

    I woke up in my bed. Alone.

    It might have been a dream, but for two things.

    I was deliciously sore in places I didn’t usually notice.

    And a black silk ribbon lay on top a note. The note read:

    “Keep this for tonight. I’ll be bringing three more. Steve.”

    • Whoa, Mary!! You should be writing erotica. Good job.

    • Great story, Mary. Really enjoyed it.

      To everyone, I’m working to get the finalist post (with poll) up. My computer has crashed with the black screen of death so I’m trying to get it back up and running. I have my iPad, but it can’t do blog posts. If all else fails I’ll use someone else’s computer to get it posted tomorrow. Sorry for the delay.

  10. […] An honorable mention must go to Incognina (I know who you really are even if you deny it) for her entry “Storybook Romance” which managed to use all the words on the naughty list.  It didn’t meet some of the other qualifications to place as a finalist, but it certainly gave me a good laugh.  You can see that one and the other submissions for July here. […]

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