200+ Round-up!

This week’s round-up of 200 words…or more! I’ve been fiddling a bit with what I’ve written so far for One Ring and just keeping my creative mind ticking over by writing random scenes that pop into my head.

Samples found below.

Plans

I’m coming to realise more and more that Jim is the voice of sarcasm and mild annoyance in my head. I’ve been mildly miffed and grumpy all day and I’m learning more and more that that feeling equates to Jim growing more real in my head. The urge to write him is almost at tipping point and the next scene has almost formed.

I’ve always had a cast of characters in my head but I’ve never had a personification of a mood before. It’s interesting. He feels dark and slippery inside my mind. Forever sarcastic and biting; he’ll never let anyone get away with stating the obvious or pretending to be too pathetic to do something. He does not suffer fools gladly that’s for sure.

I want the next scene to start with a conversation between Jim and Tiberius. It needs to address the issues around the magic, what Tiberius is looking for and show Jim’s strategic mind. This would be where we see the start of Jim laying down back up plans and thinking about what his next move would be.

It’ll keep the contrast between the fairy tale magic and the darkness of Jim too. I don’t want people to be like…OK…when did this start going all airy fairy (pun intended) and stop reading. So flipping between the two will work well.

Sample One…a bit more than 200 words

“I’m telling you, I can’t do this guys.”

“I don’t see why not? We’ve all done our scenes.”

“Yeah but…” Andy looked across at the centre of the room where the table was set out and David was preparing the straps for the full device bondage ‘interrogation’ session that was supposed to be taking place. He felt his heart race at the thought of what it was going to be like to be tied down by him.

He’d ended up with the worst ‘scene’ of the lot of them, of course. It was supposed to be Gareth getting tied with his legs splayed open like a hooker, but David had taken one look at his medical records (apparently thorough medical background checks were a thing on the adult entertainment scene) and declared that it wasn’t possible. He’d had to swap and Andy had drawn the short straw. No simple stress positions for him. Oh no. It was hookers-ville all the way.

He’d had to agree to this before hand of course and to be fair he hadn’t even given it a second thought when he’d been in the office. It’d even sounded fun. Getting tied up and ‘interrogated’ by an ex-security specialist who’d started a business as an ‘adult entertainer’ wasn’t the weirdest thing he’d ever done for the sake of a video.

In his head he’d pictured being tied to a bed by a busty brunette wearing a stern power suit and high heels. She’d had a riding crop in her hand and her hair had been tied into a tight bun. Her dark rimmed glasses were perched provocatively on her nose and she’d pouted, demanding he give her the code word before slapping the crop against her palm.

It was meant to be fun. In his head it had been.

David turned and waited for him to approach the table. Andy’s mouth went dry.

“But nothing.” Zach said. “We’ve just got this shoot to do before we can get out of here. I actually have a date tonight and Gareth’s wife’ll kill him if he isn’t back on time.” He gave Andy a stern push in the centre of his back, forcing him to stumble a few steps forward. David was still watching him calmly and his steady gaze was causing Andy’s stomach to do flips.

Gritting his teeth he turned back to face his friends. “Look, you don’t understand, I can’t do this.”

“Why not?” Stephen demanded, drying the last of the water that had been thrown in his face, with a towel.

“Because,” Andy took a deep breath and closed his eyes before admitting “I’m pretty sure that these boxers aren’t gonna hide a boner. And there’s no way I’m gonna let the whole of YouTube see me with a hardon.”

“What?” Gareth looked confused.

“Oh shit dude, you like him?”

“Why not say it louder Zach, I’m sure the people in the Unit across the road couldn’t hear you.”

“Sorry.” Zach covered his mouth with his hands but Andy was pretty sure he was doing it to hide his smile.

“The dude works in a BDSM club. I’m pretty sure he gets paid to look at dicks.” Stephen interjected.

“Very true.” Gareth agreed.

“Fuck you all.” Andy said. “I’m not doing it.”

“Oh yes you are.” Zach said. “You’re getting your ass on that table right now. There’s no way I’m missing the first date I’ve had in six months because your scared a porn star wil see your hardon.”

Sample Two…Yeah, more than 200 again

The alleyway was dark and smelled like piss but Andy didn’t really care, that was why he was here after all.

He’d been working late in the office, trying for the umpteenth time to get the damned video edited to a standard that wouldn’t result in them being demonetised…again. His wallet couldn’t cope with yet another abysmal pay day.

In hindsight, the third energy drink had probably been a bad idea.

He walked far enough into the stinking dead end, to ensure he wasn’t able to be seen from the street. Pausing he checked around for stray cats or crazy homeless guys with a knife.

It was all clear. Turning away from the alley opening he unzipped and sighed in relief. There was no way he would’ve been able to hold all that until he’d gotten home.

It wasn’t until he finished zipping himself back up that he heard someone kick aside a bottle behind him.

Fuck.

He felt his pockets for his wallet and phone. Maybe they’d fuck off if he gave them cash?

Trying desperately to not back himself further into a corner he turned to find out who was behind him.

The two men were standing in that nonchalant pose that screamed ‘you’re dead and we know that you know it, so we’re not even going to pretend we want anything other than to fuck you up.’

Andy took a step back and a security light flickered into life. An old and blessedly loud security camera whirred into action. It’s tiny red dot let Andy know that his death would at least be recorded for posterity.

The men continued to advance. The blonde at the front drew a knife from inside his jacket and sneered. “You better have a lot of cash inside that wallet pretty boy.”

“Yeah.” His friend chimed in as they continued to back him further into the alleyway. “Else you’re gonna die in a sad spotlight down freaks alley.”

Andy felt his back hit a door and his hand blindly groped for the handle behind him.

“Look.” He felt his voice crack but carried on regardless. “I’ll give you everything you want. I don’t know who you are. Here.” He plucked his brand new iPhone out of his pocket and held it out towards them. “You can have it. I don’t care. All I wanted to do was take a piss and go home.”

“And yet, here you are.” The first man said. His voice was flat but held a note of excitement that Andy didn’t like at all. “Standing in a spotlight outside a sex club. You’ve gone and gotten us on tape. I say for that alone you owe us way more than a fucking phone.”

He swiped at Andy’s outstretched hand. Reflex  caused Andy to pull his hand away but that seemed to piss the man off even more.

He snarled but paused when he heard the glass bottle that had given him away being kicked aside again. He glanced behind him whilst his friend blocked Andy’s escape route.

“Now then gentlemen. I’m only going to say this once so I do hope you’re paying attention.” Andy closed his eyes. He knew that English accent. He’d spent the last eight hours listening to it telling him to be a good boy and tell him the code word. What the fuck was David doing here? “The man you’re rather clumsily attempting to murder is a friend of mine. If you so much as harm a single hair on his head I’ll make sure your deaths are so horrific that even the local psychopaths will think I went too far.
“Leave now and I’ll pretend this never happened.”

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Sophie J Clark

I'm the author of Getting Out: Escape is harder than he’d ever imagined and QP-id: Love, Sex and Nano-Machines. I'm currently in the process of writing my third book. All works can be found on Amazon under the name Sophie J Clark.

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