FFF Libs: And the Winners Are…

Really? Really, people? 300 entries? Were you so desperate to create your own erotic fan fiction that you had to flood this TR contest with entries? I’d like to blame myself, since this was the one time I didn’t specify one entry per person, but you all are the perverts who kept writing in potential scenarios. I blame you.

So first off, the Honorable Mentions in convenient (for me) quick-hit form: MyNoNos, MattK, Archer, Clarence, Adman, Tanner, Afterglow, Cobwebs, Hardware_Man, Starman Matt Morrison, Esbat, Varrior, Xvi, WYSeanIWYG, HerbN, Greyfox00 for his lovely tale of me satisfying Megan Fox, Greg Easton, Big Bad Booty Daddy, ThaFame, Teagan Blackthorne, Nik, Glitchy Goblin, Jonathan, Zac, Captain Flunky, Mittensisamum, Shoe, Matt Moylan, Marsten for his amazing shameful admission, and the Great A’Tuin for trying so damn hard. Frankly, so many of you turned in great entries that the winners were practically random — any of you were worthy of the prize.

Second, poor Geek Girl Diva has been institutionalized and is under suicide watch for the next 72 hours because of the many, many horrible things you guys wrote. I hope you’re happy. Let’s start with the story you didn’t see:

“Tell me you want it,” demanded [FICTIONAL MALE CHARACTER 1], almost angrily. He stood at the foot of the bed, his cruel eyes gazing at the helpless form tied spread-eagled to the motel bed.

“I want it,” sobbed [FICTIONAL MALE CHARACTER 2]. He was face down, the ropes were cutting into his wrists and ankles, his face was red with embarrassment and shame, and there was a [OBJECT] stuck in his ass. But his every pore screamed with pleasure, and a hungry need for the pleasure yet to come, even when it was so very wrong.

[FICTIONAL MALE CHARACTER 1] started to stroke his erect [NICKNAME], but there was no need — hungry with desire, it stood tall like a [DIFFERENT OBJECT]. Almost instantly, the two of them became one. Even as pleasure screamed like a barreling freight train through every pore, the shame poured forth and filled both their nostrils. Thrusting in frenzy, [FICTIONAL MALE CHARACTER 1] yelled, “Say it!”

“No!” whimpered [FICTIONAL MALE CHARACTER 2].

“Say it! You know you want to, you [ADJECTIVE + ANIMAL]!”

“[SHAMEFUL ADMISSION]!” The words filled the air and mixed with the
sweat, rutting heat and shame, and an orgasm that would not be denied. Finally, they stopped, both covered in [LIQUID]. [FICTIONAL MALE CHARACTER 2] was weeping quietly. All [FICTIONAL MALE CHARACTER 1] could do was awkwardly pat his shoulder.

Suddenly, a voice cried from the motel bathroom. “Hey!” yelled [BELOVED CARTOON CHARACTER]. “You guys going to pee on me or what?”

See what you’ve done? Hit the jump for the two winners.

First up — Geek Girl Diva selects this outstandingly horrible entry from Meghan Murphy:

“Tell me you want it,” demanded Sherlock Holmes, almost angrily. He stood at the foot of the bed, his cruel eyes gazing at the helpless form tied spread-eagled to the motel bed.

“I want it,” sobbed Twilight’s sparkling vampire Edward Cullen. He was face down, the ropes were cutting into his wrists and ankles, his face was red with embarrassment and shame, and there was a bucket of chicken stuck in his ass. But his every pore screamed with pleasure, and a hungry need for the pleasure yet to come, even when it was so very wrong.

Sherlock Holmes started to stroke his erect “little chiquita banana”, but there was no need — hungry with desire, it stood tall like a Klingon bat’leth. Almost instantly, the two of them became one. Even as pleasure screamed like a barreling freight train through every pore, the shame poured forth and filled both their nostrils. Thrusting in frenzy, Sherlock Holmes yelled, “Say it!”

“No!” whimpered Edward Cullen.

“Say it! You know you want to, you grizzled, incontinent squid!”

“I have a third lactating nipple!” The words filled the air and mixed with the sweat, rutting heat and shame, and an orgasm that would not be denied. Finally, they stopped, both covered in WD-40. Edward Cullen was weeping quietly. All Sherlock Holmes could do was awkwardly pat his shoulder.

Suddenly, a voice cried from the motel bathroom. “Hey!” yelled Strawberry Shortcake. “You guys going to pee on me or what?

Oh, Meghan. I hope the shirt doesn’t prevent you from remembering what a horrible thing you’ve done. And now for my winner, courtesy of MerlinTWizard:

“Tell me you want it,” demanded Boba Fett, almost angrily. He stood at the foot of the bed, his cruel eyes gazing at the helpless form tied spread-eagled to the motel bed.

“I want it,” sobbed James T. Kirk. He was face down, the ropes were cutting into his wrists and ankles, his face was red with embarrassment and shame, and there was a 1:16 replica of the Washington Monument stuck in his ass. But his every pore screamed with pleasure, and a hungry need for the pleasure yet to come, even when it was so very wrong.

Boba Fett started to stroke his erect “heat-seeking missile”, but there was no need — hungry with desire, it stood tall like a steamer trunk. Almost instantly, the two of them became one. Even as pleasure screamed like a barreling freight train through every pore, the shame poured forth and filled both their nostrils. Thrusting in frenzy, Boba Fett yelled, “Say it!”

“No!” whimpered James T. Kirk.

“Say it! You know you want to, you slippery ocelot!”

“”I once had sexual relations with a mynock on a bet. Okay, there was no bet!” The words filled the air and mixed with the sweat, rutting heat and shame, and an orgasm that would not be denied. Finally, they stopped, both covered in tribble juice. Kirk was weeping quietly. All Boba Fett could do was awkwardly pat his shoulder.

Suddenly, a voice cried from the motel bathroom. “Hey!” yelled Papa Smurf. “You guys going to pee on me or what?”

Incidentally, a 1:16-scale model of the Washington monument is still over 34 feet tall, and that’s pretty much what did it for me. I hope you all are appropriately ashamed of yourselves — especially you filthy perverts who won.