Four strong contenders entered the ring in the August 2018 The Meat Grinder. Renee Miller is a favorite on the podcast and the author of Eat the Rich. Sravani is a returning champion. Amy is talented writer and formidable challenger, and Lisa might know a few secrets to give her an advantage.
The question is who will win? Who will receive the most reads, comments, and likes by August 31, 2018? The winner gets $50!
Right from the start Patti had Billy,her older brother wrapped around her little finger. He adored her and would do anything for her. He brushed her long wavy hair, laid out her clothes, ran her bath, and was a true slave in every sense of the word as I look back on it now.
Billy was a few years older than Patti and was a rather handsome man, Platinum blonde hair, baby blue eyes surrounded by a strong muscular build. Billy had strong, yet gentle hands, just like his Father’s. Patti enjoyed it ever so much when Billy rubbed her feet for her, or carried her up the stairs and put her to bed.
Their father doted on both of them, which made it worse for Patti with their Mother, who essentially dommed him. She was very controlling and manipulative, and Patti learned well from her how to get the things she wanted.
Their Mother used to switch Billy and us for the slightest infraction. Their Father used to buy her bottles of perfume, and jewelry just to distract her from the children. Daddy took his fair share of whippings. Billy and Patti would listen as she made him cry out for her. Daddy always referred to Mother as Mommy, it was a term of endearment between the two of them. He was definitely her Slave Hubby, and would walk through hell for her. Patti vowed one day to have a Slave Hubby of my own.
Billy and Patti were blaring The Ramones one night, as Mother and Daddy went out for the evening, and we could blast the stereo, and play their guitars as loud as they wanted. They were smoking a bong and sharing a fifth of Imperial whiskey. Billy began to look into her eyes and sing softly and sweetly. ”I can’t control my fingers, I can’t control my brain….” His soft blue eyes were glassy, but there was no mistaking the adoration he held for her in his eyes.
Patti rose from the chair and loosened her bra. Letting it fall to the floor. Her full, round breasts exploded into the air. “Ah, I have wanted to do that all day. I love letting them bounce free, and when the air hits them, how my nipples get hard.” She said, leaning over him let my her nipple brush against his fingers while he strummed the guitar. He began to salivate, drool dripping from the corners of his mouth.
Patti ran her fingers through his thick wavy hair, taking the guitar out of his hand, and sat in his lap. feeling him grow beneath her ample bottom. Placing her erect nipple in his mouth, he sucked fervently, and she felt herself weaken as her eyes met his. She knew her power. She felt it beneath her bottom. She rubbed and grinded against his pulsating erection while he suckled her, Billy began to tremble. I felt a surge of warm wetness on her bottom, he had lost it on her. Ejaculating all over Patti’s pretty pink panties.
Patti jumped up and grabbed his hair, “Billy, you little slut! You came on my new panties!” and she smacked him across the face. “Nasty Whore, you are going to sleep in these tonight!” She said handing them to him, and laughing wickedly.
Billydid as she commanded; he was putty in her hands and would do anything Patti told him to do at this point. “Brother, darling, model for me.” She ordered. In those pink panties, snugly, on his muscular buttocks, he was a sight to behold. His cock sprung forth, giving away his excitement at his own humiliation by her hands.
Patti sat back in the chair and lit up a cigarette telling him to come lay under her feet. “Rub my feet, Billy. “ He massaged them tenderly, kissing each toe. He looked up at her and she began to masturbate in front of him, forcing him to watch her writhe and moan as her wetness trickled down my thighs. I rolled my foot across his engorged and leaking cock. A tear streamed down his face. It was then that I realized I needed this as much as he did. Patti grabbed Billy’s golden locks, and pulled him up between her legs, with an anomalistic lust, he thrust into her.
Billy moved away from home, leaving Patti behind. He met a beautiful woman , eventually marrying her and having two children. No matter how hard he tried to fit into his cookie cutter life, he could never get over Patti. He left his job, wife and children behind to form a moderately successful alternative music band. Oh and Patti, of course she came along. She was his sidechick, on this grand adventure. All of this was for her anyway.
Billy was playing a round of local clubs in his area, always taking his sidechick Patti alomg with him for the ride.. They had become inseperable since she had introduced him to smack. Billy left his wife and his kids in the dust for Patti and his music, seriously who needs a whining brat or a nagging wife when you’re out on the road.
Billy was devoted to Patti, and blindly as a matter of fact, and thought the same of her. One night Billy was plating a set on stage and noticed Patti wasn’t in the front , gushing over him as she normally did. This only made him sweat more as he performed, wondering where she could be and if she was ok.
Billy cut his set short and went wandering about the club, looking for Patti. Je stumbled into Max, his manager, and asked him if he’d seen Patti. Max just hung his head. Billy jeard moaning and grunting coming from the Owner’s office, He opened the door and there was he beloved Patti on her knees , needle in her arm, cock in her mouth.
Billy went into fit of rage. He had given up his wife and children for Patti. He had turned down so many so much road cunt fir her, taking the high road and being faithful. Here was Patti, mouth full of cock , veins full of smack. Almost instinctively he pulled out his razor sharp switch nlade. Before they could see it coming Patti had her throat slashed, blood jutting out, spilling upom the floor, and for his actions the owner had his cock lobbed off.
That didn’t seem like enough for Billy. He spotted a coin jar out the corner of his eye, carefully he took the knife and plucked out Patti’s beautiful baby blue eyes, and tossed them in the jar, pausing for a moment, decided to pluck out the owner’s as well and toss them in the jar. Laughing by now, as he was bitten with a rage that turned to madness, he remembered that eyes without a face are a human disgrace.
Grabbing the keys to the owner’s Lexus he thought he’d cruise out of there and take a trip to Las Vegas, accompanied with jar of eyes. He stopped and slashed a few more hitch hikers along the way, just until his jar was full of eyes.
Billy was finally apprehended, shouting for more in the midnight hour. He even penned a song about his little tour of madness. He called it Roadkill Love.
My penis rears its ugly head when I least expect it. I’m not always thinking about my girlfriend when I feel my pants tighten. Sometimes, hearing my ex.’s name uttered by someone during the course of a conversation or smelling her perfume on a total stranger is enough to set me off.
When a crowded E train finally pulls into Penn Station, I push my way on, and somehow manage to find a seat. A brawny man with a shaved head and beady, black eyes stands in front of me. His penis is as large as a bratwurst, bulging in his tight, black leather pants. I usually don’t eye other guy’s goods, but it’s kind of hard not to when it’s inches away from my face. I close my eyes and try to picture him pumping hard in and out of my ex-girlfriend, Sandra, while she holds on for the ride moaning and writhing beneath him. Thinking about it creates a bulge between my legs, which I cover quickly with my briefcase.
Bratwurst Boy gets off at 50th Street, and I watch a short, stout woman with enormous breasts wearing a red dress that leaves little to the imagination take his place. I adjust my focus, so it looks like I’m staring into space, even though I’m staring right at her. I doubt she’d notice though, since her eyes are glued to the pages of Spin. I close my eyes again and picture Sandra’s breasts next to this woman’s. After a moment, I decide there’s no comparison: Sandra is more than a handful, but Short and Stout is two handfuls and then some! I fight the urge to reach out and give her tits a little squeeze in front of all these people on the subway. I manage to overcome my desire, though it’s hard to deny my throbbing cock the release it so desperately craves much longer.
I am oblivious to nearly everyone around me, with the exception of whoever ends up standing in front of me. The subway itself is merely the vehicle through which I experience virtual bliss. I don’t know if it’s dirty or clean, whether it reeks of piss, spilled beer, or both.
The woman standing in front of me is my only concern right now. Short and Stout is flipping through her magazine, struggling to find a certain page before her stop. Her pale, blue eyes are wide, and her full lips are parted slightly. Seeing her there, gripping the metal bar with one black-and-white gloved hand and holding her magazine with the other makes my head spin. I rub my eyes for a moment, grappling with my senses. She gets off at 53rd and 5th, shutting Spin abruptly.
I wait for someone to take her place; sadly, no one does, so I sigh, set my briefcase down and admire my reflection in the scratched window across from me. My face is flawless⎯not a blemish anywhere. I run my hand over my cheeks. Smooth as my ex-girlfriend’s firm ass, because I just shaved, but by the end of the day they will be as rough as sandpaper. I run my fingers through my brown hair, flattening it a bit.
I look around again. My half of the car is empty. I seize the moment, sliding my hand over the bulge between my legs and start to rub, ever so slowly. I quicken my pace as the train speeds through the tunnel. When it stops at the next station, I am soaked with sweat and my crotch is wet. I pick up my briefcase and quickly set it down on my lap, hoping the spot on my pants dries before I have to get off.
Attention writers, are you confident in your writing ability? Do you feel that your ability to tell a story is on point? Well, then put it to the test! Send in your stories and let it be at the mercy of the readers. Some will shower with praise, some will tear it down with ridicule, and some might just be kind enough to give you a dollar.
How does this work? Easy, send in story to firstname.lastname@example.org and it will be placed on the site and given a week to earn feedback in the form of views, likes, and comments. Stories that fail to please to interest the readers, whether the feedback is positive or negative, will be removed from the site. Reader interest would be determined based on whether a story is viewed, liked, or commented on with in first 72 hours it is placed on the site. Stories that receive consecutive negative comments, three comments in a row, will be removed from the site in shame. Authors are free to remove their stories at any time, and they may do so depending on the sort of feedback received. However, the story stays on the Deadman’s Tome site and has the most points calculated based on views, likes, and comments within 30 days it is place on the site will earn $50 via PayPal. The authors will compete against each other, share their stories, promote it any way they can, and might even sabotage others.
How it works? Stories in The Meat Grinder stories will post in batches on Monday and those stories will compete. The story that survives to the following Saturday and has the most points will win money. Each view is worth 1 point, each like is worth 2 points, and each comment is worth 3 points.
Authors can also earn money in the form of donations. Every story in The Meat Grinder will have the option for donations. Authors will receive 60% of the donations. 40% will go to Deadman’s Tome in hopes to increase the Monthly payout.
Submit your work into the meat grinder and see if it doesn’t turn into pulverized crap.
The Meat Grinder is open to short stories, flash fiction, and poems, of the dark fiction and creepy variety.
Send stories to email@example.com with meat grinder in subject.