Caption This (20th Jan)

** MORE GREAT STORY PARTS IN THE COMMENTS **

Saturdays the readers get a chance to write something, use the picture as inspiration or perhaps suggest something for others to write.  Two pictures, but check in the new comments section you can add pictures now so post your own stories/pictures!

**THE STORIES/REQUESTS ARE IN THE COMMENTS**

TGIF: SOMETHING IN THE WATER

by TS Escher

“Thanks, Marty,” Xander said. He smiled appreciatively as he accepted a bottle of water.

Heading back to the locker room, the former marine looked back affectionately toward the old man. He had never been accustomed to kindness, yet despite his best efforts, he had found Marty anyway.

Every morning Marty opened the boxing gym two hours early, just for him and his trainer. Although getting on in years, the old goat never seemed tired. Bright eyed and bushy tailed, he was always ready with a cold bottle of water for his favorite client. He even washed Xander’s gym clothes with the towels. Fresh clothes! Every day!

How did I get so lucky?

He stepped into a pair of tight black underwear as his trainer Howard entered the room.

“Ready to put ‘em up, big guy?” he said with a laugh.

“You bet!”

Icing

By Carlos Palanca

Tristan waits anxiously for his friends, Matt and Mike to arrive at his house. They called earlier and told Tristan that they want to show him something. Hours passed and Tristan kept waiting for his friends to arrive. He kept himself busy by checking his Instagram feed.

By 3pm, the doorbell rang. Tristan unlocks the door and opens it without checking who is standing on the other side of it. Tristan says, “It’s about time you guys showed--”

Tristan stopped talking as he was completely shocked that it was someone else, a stranger to be more precise. Tristan apologizes and tells the stranger that he thought that he was his friends

The stranger says “You know that you should be more careful when you open the door to someone because you never know what that person is capable of!”

Tristan apologizes again.

The stranger asks him if he is at the right address and if he is Tristan.

Tristan was shocked to hear what very muscular stranger asked.

He tells the stranger that he is Tristan and asks him, “Can I help you?”

Seanday: The Honey Pot, pt 2 (of 7)

READ PART ONE HERE

I looked at the teenager and thought about all the fun I'd seen him have over the past twenty-four hours--even though he wasn't in control of his own body I could see the potential. I felt my own chest, flat and without definition below the cheap grey shirt. Cheap, it's all I could afford. I knew Daniel had come from a wealthy family--that's why he was targeted by the girl.

"Fuck it!"

Grabbing Daniel's shirt I pulled him behind a dumpster. Piece by piece I removed his clothes. Then I removed my own, dropping them into the waste. I touched the teenagers chest again and my hand disappeared inside--I pulled it out, and briefly thought about what I was planning to do: steal a teenager’s life. I looked down at Daniel again and convinced myself that I could be young again--the thought of it started to make my own dick go hard. I stepped over Daniel and slowly lowered myself into his body. I could feel the cool stone against MY butt cheeks?

It was working. Quickly I moved my legs aligning them with Daniel's. There was the same tightness again. I wiggled my toes and watched as Daniel's responded.

Caption This (13th Jan)

** NEW STORY IN THE COMMENTS **

Saturdays the readers get a chance to write something, use the picture as inspiration or perhaps suggest something for others to write.  Two pictures, but check in the new comments section you can add pictures now so post your own stories/pictures!

**THE STORIES/REQUESTS ARE IN THE COMMENTS**

TGIF: Jerry's Gym, pt 2

by TS Escher

 

 

ACT I, SCENE 2: ENTER, LEO

READ PT 1 HERE

Jerry flipped the ‘open’ sign as Evan hung out at the front counter, checking people in. The gym was his now, after all. Evan studied all of the new raw material checking in, practically bathing himself in a pool of potential bodies.

Unbeknownst to them, some would serve as "the muscle." Drug runners that would keep his operation going. And one lucky guy would be his new, permanent home. Someone intimidating. Someone commanding. And more importantly, someone no one would fuck with.

As the day wore on, Jerry kept a weary eye on Evan, unsure of his next move. Passing by a mirror on his way to the locker room, he forced a smile. He was relieved that the overly-trained ginger in the mirror smiled back.

I'm going to get us out of this, he promised his reflection in silence. And Jerry’s gym will belong to us again.

The trouble was, he had no idea how.

“There will be an end to this, you know,” Evan piped up.

Jerry whirled around, facing his new foe.

"We just have to make it through one deal, and we're done. I need your help getting started; then I will let you keep running the gym. Everything will be as it was. Well, almost."

Rolling his eyes, Jerry charged back into the locker room. Evan was not far behind.

The Thermometer

By Bill Rowan

As I was walking to my car after a long day of shopping I came across this little hole-in-the-wall shop I had never seen before. From the outside it looked like one of those olde musty book shops like one might see in Dickens’ London, ones that held wonderful treasures concealed inside. My curiosity aroused, I entered, not knowing what to expect. Sure enough the scent of “olde” assaulted my nose as I gazed on the plethora of wonders.

“May I help you, sir?” A friendly looking older gentleman asked as he approached. He fit perfectly with the aura the store was exuding.

“Just browsing, thank you.”

“Take your time. If there is anything I can help you with, let me know.” He started to move away and as he did my eyes focused on something shiny.

“What is that?” I asked him as I pointed to a long glass tube with spheres suspended in a clear liquid. Each sphere was filled with some sort of colored liquid, giving the object a very intriguing appearance.

“That? That is a Galileo thermometer. The young fellow that brought it in said he thought it was broken though because the balls always stay at the top. Said his uncle had it for years before he just disappeared one day.”

I had seen such tubes before but had never bothered to find out what they were. I couldn’t fathom how little glass spheres could accurately tell the temperature. Science was never my strong suit.

“How much?” I asked as I stared transfixed. He named a price and after a little bit of haggling I bought it on the spot. While it might not be anything other than a conversation piece I found looking at the balls to be quite fascinating. He carefully wrapped my newly acquired treasure in tissue paper and placed it in a bag so it would be safe on my trip home.

Seanday: The Honey Pot, pt 1 (of 7)

I'd been sent to Majorca to investigate some weird occurrences: bank accounts of teenagers being emptied. I'd spent three weeks there and I still wasn't any closer to discovering the perpetrator. But thumbing through the crime reports I noticed some similarities in the victims pictures--young men, all teenagers but still pretty ripped. I looked at my own body, thirty-four but I looked younger--but still too old for this crowd.

It was Friday and I headed down to the airport to see the latest influx of visitors to the island. It was the last weekend of the season and there must have been only thirty people. As I waited for them to exit arrivals I looked through the list of passengers. There was a group of four that were waiting for their luggage, one of them looked like a perfect target--tall, blonde and an impressive chest exposed by the low cut v-neck shirt.

Walking to the group I asked if they needed a lift to their hotel, my mini-van was outside. Accepting my offer I took them to their hotel. On the drive over I found out the guy's name was Daniel, this was his first time abroad without his parents, just him and his friends. He offered to pay for the trip flashing a huge roll of cash, but I declined. I knew then I'd found the next victim--good looking, strong, naive and loaded with cash.

TGIF: Jerry's Gym, pt 1

by TS Escher

 ACT I, SCENE 1: ENTER, THE THIEF

Jerry’s eyes widened in disbelief. Overcome with anger; his hands balled up into fists. This little prep-school motherfucker is proposing to use my gym to run his drugs? Over my dead body!

Evan’s dark eyes narrowed. He knew that Jerry was formulating the fighting words that he had been waiting for. Jerry had been known around the gym as a gentle giant. A successful competitive bodybuilder whose gym had become not so successful as of late.

Evan’s eyes shifted to the clock. Fuck. Four forty-five. Almost opening time. Impatient, Evan took a rebellious step toward the man three times his size. 

Jerry laughingly shook his head, “This is a road you don’t wanna go down, string-bean. Now I said no. I don’t want any part of your business. You wanna work out here, fine; you paid just like everyone else. But if I ever catch you dealing in here—”

“You’ll what?” Evan responded, with a mix of curiosity and delight.

Jerry flexed his pecs in warning. “I think it’s just about time you leave, friend.” As he placed a firm hand on Evan’s forearm and bounced his chest again, it suddenly became stiff, suspended in a hard flex. With his free hand, Jerry grabbed the tight muscle and felt his heart thump. HARD. His legs wobbled.

Am I having a heart attack?

Seanday Recharge

Welcome to the New Year!

I'm looking forward to 2018, but for the moment there are a lot of shifting sands my little world.

I'm taking a break (again), but don't worry, over the coming weeks I've scheduled a multipart story from the past. It's one of my personal favourites, and one of the stories I'm most proud of. You may have read it before, but I hope you'll enjoy it again.

I may post some short stories on the Tumblr shadow site Second Skin in the meantime if the itch becomes too great.

As always I'll be around for comments, emails or chats (sorry no RPs for the time being).

S.

Seanday Renewal: Not Today

I was on the way to Grant’s house—a friend—for the New Year. His girl had dumped him on Christmas Eve, what a bitch. He was really down and didn't want to party. So like a good mate, I said I'd keep him company.

When I passed a local pub, a commotion in a side alley caught my attention. A big guy had cornered another in a red shirt. A few of friends--I assumed--stood by jeering.

"Fuck him Reilly, open him up," a skinny guy yelled.

Reilly held up a hand. "What's your name?" he asked the guy in red.

"Steve," the guy managed to say.

"Who wants him?" Reilly chuckled, "Who wants to be Steve?"

Caption This (30th Dec)

Since there has been a decline in Caption This readers stories, this seemed like a sensible point to end them. If there is sufficient interest I will bring them back. Let me know in the comments.

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Saturdays the readers get a chance to write something, use the picture as inspiration or perhaps suggest something for others to write. Two pictures, but check in the new comments section you can add pictures now so post your own stories/pictures!

**THE STORIES/REQUESTS ARE IN THE COMMENTS**