Thursday, April 25, 2013

#ThursThreads - The Challenge That Ties Tales Together - Week 68


Welcome back to the Weird, the Wild, & the Wicked, and #ThursThreads, the Challenge that Ties Tales Together. Let's get started. It's Thursday again, so what should you be doing? Writing #flashfiction, that's what! Welcome to Week 68 of #ThursThreads, the challenge that ties tales together. Need the rules? Read on!

Here's how it works:
  • The prompt is a line from the previous week's winning tale.
  • The prompt can appear ANYWHERE in your story and is included in your word count.
Rules to the Game:
  • This is a Flash Fiction challenge, which means your story must be a minimum of 100 words, maximum of 250.
  • Incorporate the prompt as written anywhere into your story (included in your word count).
  • Post your story in the comments section of this post
  • Include your word count (or be excluded from judging)
  • Include your Twitter handle or email (so we know how to find you)
  • The challenge is open 7 AM to 7 PM Pacific Time
  • The winner will be announced on Friday, depending on how early the judge gets up. ;)
How it benefits you:
  • You get a nifty cool badge to display on your blog or site (because we're all about promotion - you know you are!)
  • You get instant recognition of your writing prowess on this blog!
  • Your writing colleagues shall announce and proclaim your greatness on Facebook, Twitter, and Google Plus

Our Judge for Week 68:

Erotic romance author, dragon lover, and Scotswoman, Clair de Lune.

So now your #ThursThreads Challenge, tying tales together.

The Prompt:

“It’s standard procedure.”

All stories written herein are the property (both intellectual and physical) of the authors. Now, away with you, Flash Fiction Fanatics, and show us your #ThursThreads. Good luck! :)


  1. Bait

    “C’mon! I’m just doing my job lady!”

    “Just doing my job – sir.”

    “I gotta stand here, in front of all these people, strip to my boxers, and let you people paw me – JUST to make sure that I’m not carrying weapons?”

    “We have it on good authority that you don’t wear boxers. Briefs actually, 38 waist and snug.”

    Silence reigned as the courier stared down the security force. They knew who he was, the deadly assassin known as “Samba.” What Samba didn’t know was that today he wasn’t the target. Only an example to be made – a deliciously handsome example. The real target stood in the crowd behind him – waiting.

    Snarling, Samba ripped off his shirt, buttons flying. His shoes went next. As he shucked his pants and socks, a sigh of delightful approval escaped. Black and red tattoos in long sinuous lines crossed his body and wound down his legs.

    “Happy now, Officer – “ he peered at the name badge on the guards chest. “McKenzie?”

    “Quite.” She replied. In smooth move, she reached for the man with one hand and drew her stunner with the other. With machine like precision, McKenzie fired in to the crowd as she pushed Samba to the floor. It was over in a second. McKenzie holstered her weapon to view her forces now taking the real target into custody – the man who had Samba on his kill list.

    “You used me bait?” Samba said from the floor.

    “It’s standard procedure,” McKenzie replied winking.

    250 words without title

  2. “Who is she?” the girl asked.

    “Leverage,” Michael hugged the blonde woman. “We'll talk about it later. Let’s go before they sense the rip.”

    She nodded at him and looked at me with disdain. “Come on, then.” The woman didn’t move, just stood there looking at me.

    I didn’t know where she wanted me to go.

    She waved an arm at me and rolled her eyes. “Give me your hand. I have to be touching you or you won’t get through.” She let out an exasperated sigh. “It’s standard procedure.”

    Like I freaking knew that. I took her hand and she yanked me forward.

    Her eyes bore into mine. “Hold tight now. Wouldn’t wanna lose ya.”

    “Knock it off, Kendra,” Michael said. “If you can’t handle the task, I’m sure Brent will be happy to.” He looked at Kendra’s male counterpart. “Right?”

    “Yes, Sir,” Brent replied, shoulders straightening.

    Kendra sighed. “Fine.” She gave Michael a scathing look. “You know, you used to be a fun guy.” She turned and stepped out of the warm blue light, pulling me along with her.

    As soon as we emerged, Kendra released me and stepped away with a groan. I opened my mouth to tell her I wasn’t a leper and touching me wouldn’t give her a disease, but the words never made it past my lips. Everything teetered sideways. I tried to right myself, but staggered and swerved to the left. My stomach twisted and my vision blurred.

    My world went black.


    250 words

  3. A naked man surrounded by a pile of ash. Hellava a crime scene. The cop stammered to answer the FBI agent’s question—not because of the scene but because the agent staring him down was sex on a stick. Long brunette hair, bottle green eyes, a beauty mark that drew a man’s gaze to her kissable lips. Everything between her pageant-queen legs and those lips guaranteed a wet dreams. He opened his mouth but nothing came out. His throat felt like sandpaper and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth like he’d eaten cheap peanut butter.

    “Why are you in charge?” The fed repeated her question.

    “It’s standard procedure.” His partner answered, obviously not awestruck by the FBI agent.

    The fed arched one eyebrow and turned her penetrating stare on Peters. His by-the-book partner backed down. Talk about an alpha bitch. Agent Marquis took the blue ribbon and best in show.

    Sade Marquis wanted to be anywhere but here babysitting a couple of locals while they stumbled through their first magical crime investigation. She’d just finished up another case and hadn’t made it out of town yet. Vampire hit werewolf with silver dagger; wolf clamped onto vamp’s throat; sun came up. Case solved.

    “Here’s the deal, slick. This is magick on magick. That makes it a federal case.” She cast a slow, sensuous look around before returning her gaze to the two locals. “I’m the only FBI agent here. That means it’s mine.” Sade smirked. “It’s standard procedure.”

    250 words

  4. Scent of Life

    Melissa eyed her weapon, slowly running her hand along its length; her delicate polished fingers at odds with the bulky, powerful semi automatic. Just because her job as a beautician was redundant, it didn't mean she had to stop taking care of herself, after all she was human.

    Her training over, Melissa hugged her weapon close as she ventured out into the darkness of the new world.

    A thick fog dressed the city like a sinister cloak, muffling the groans of the dying and the distinctive moans of the undead as they feasted. Her breathing was deep and quick, her finger firm on the trigger, her step confident as she whipped her head from left to right at the slightest movement; a rustle of paper, the clanking of a rolling bottle.

    “Hey Barbie, you have enough perfume on tonight?” whispered Brad walking next to Melissa.“It’s getting right up my nose.”

    “Better the scent of flowers than rotting flesh” Melissa retorted just as one of their unit threw up; either from the putrid flesh or from the brutality of their situation. She handed Brad her precious bottle and he started spraying it liberally much to the consternation of the unit.

    “Stop moaning. It’s standard procedure now” Brad quipped rather preferring the subtle fragrance of flowers to that of death that had permeated his nostrils since the apocalypse began six weeks ago. And flowers reminded him of a world where life lived free . . . . . . . . . and there was nothing wrong with that.


  5. Julia slammed the phone down and strode across her hotel suite. Cursing under her breath, she slid a pair of black leggings and hoodie over her lace camisole. After the long flight followed by a full day of meetings, all she wanted was room service and bed. Alone.

    Roarke obviously had other plans, but she'd put a stop to that. The momentary slip from the night before was a terrible mistake. The brush from the back of his fingers across her cheek was like a knife reopening an old wound. One that never completely healed. She blamed their kiss on a combination of nerves and two glasses of wine consumed in quick succession on an empty stomach. Stupid.

    Julia was afraid to think about how he found her hotel and room number. Roarke used his power and influence to get whatever he wanted. She couldn't allow him to get under her skin and into her bed again. The only option was to get rid of him. Fast.

    Turning the corner, her eyes washed over his perfect form standing at the bar.

    "What do you want?"

    A sexy grin played along his mouth as he strode toward her. "You know this city, sweetheart. I'm here to protect you. It's standard procedure."

    "I don't need your protection anymore."

    He closed the space between them. Shutting her eyes, Julia's senses filled with the familiar scent of fine whiskey and unadulterated man.

    "I don't need you," she whispered before his mouth crushed upon hers.

    250 slacking off at work words

  6. All that Glitters

    One minute Shelly was opening the mail and the next minute she was in hell. The glitter had spilled out of the envelope and covered everything in a shimmering cloud and then the alarms had sounded. It was only glitter, not a bio weapon, but no one had listened to her. It’s standard procedure; they told her and then tossed her into a decontamination stall, the disinfectant already pouring out of the nozzles before she’d had time to even undo her blouse. She refused to even consider the possibility there’d been more than glitter in the envelope. It was a mistake, that’s all. She shed her clothes and started scrubbing at her skin anyway.

    By the time it was over she was exhausted and drained, and not one of the faceless drones she’d seen would tell her anything or even speak unless it was to give her a command. They left her alone in a stark room with strange lighting and a constant humming noise that made her teeth ache. There was nothing in the room but a cot with a single blanket and a bottle of water on the floor beside it. They’d only given her a hospital gown and pull-on booties to wear, so she curled up onto one of the cots and tugged the blanket around her shivering shoulders. Please let the worst be over, she prayed and waited to hear news of her fate. Death by glitter was not how she wanted to go out.

    249 Words

  7. You could have had me, Jim. Chris tilted her head as she paused, her hands at her bodice. Todd is willing to share. Don’t you want me?

    God, did he ever. His cock flexed with each tiny button she released from its hole, baring her glorious chest. “I never stopped wanting you, Chris. But sharing is wrong. You’re Magic’s wife.”

    “Who told you sharing is wrong?” She twirled around, shimmying the top of her dress off her shoulders in like a stole. She shot him a coy look over her shoulder and his cock ached.

    “Everyone says it’s wrong.”

    “It’s not wrong for me or Todd.” Chris dropped the cloth and the flared jacket slid off her hips to puddle at her feet. She turned to face him and caressed her breasts, pinching the nipples just enough to make his mouth water. “And I know it’s not wrong for you. I know you want it as much as I do, Jim.”

    He damn near swallowed his tongue as he stared at those gorgeous breasts in her hands. “How do you know that?”

    “I’m a SEAL.” She tipped her chin up. “I do my research and learn everything I can about my opponent.”

    “So I’m your opponent?” He chuckled and rubbed his rigid dick.

    “That depends. Are you going to come quietly?” She gave him a cheeky grin and reached for the zipper on her satin pants.

    “Honey, I never come quietly. It’s standard procedure to shout to the rafters.”

    249 ineligible #WIP500 words

  8. I stood at the end of the hallway waiting for the door to open. Thirty feet of white floor tiles and white walls stood between me, my newly appointed partner and the details of my first assignment. I tugged at the hem of my dress. Black satin, short and way too low cut for my taste, delivered along with the red high heels that already had me contemplating going barefoot.

    I heard movement on the other side of the door even before the knob turned. Special Agent Jacoby stood in the doorway, dressed in a tuxedo.

    “Agent Burgin, you’re with me.”

    I focused on the sharp staccato rhythm of my stilettos on the tile and tried to look unaffected.

    As I moved past him, the faint scent of his cologne flooded my mind with thoughts my first night in the city. One too many martinis, Egyptian cotton sheets, his mouth on my skin then the mortifying realization that my first one-night stand had been with my weapons instructor.

    “Why me?” I asked. “Why pick me to be your partner?”

    “Don’t get yourself too worked up. It’s standard procedure, Burgin. The computer matched you to the assignment – a female agent who knows how to handle a weapon and can blend into a crowd of high-class socialites.” He pressed a dossier into my hand. “I’ll brief you on the way, let’s go.”

    I followed him back out into the hall. “Who picked the dress?” I asked.

    He smiled. “That was all me.”

    250 words

  9. "You have got to be kidding me. I'm not going into that thing."

    The mere thought of having to enter that clanging box made her hyperventilate. The room spun and her hands grasped the first firm object she could find.

    "Easy there, I've got you."

    The deep masculine voice belonged to the broad chest she was holding onto. The owner of that voice smiled down on her, when she managed to lift her head to study her rescuer. This time Eliza had a hard time drawing air into her lungs for the man watching her from under hooded eyes was one specimen of wet dream inducing hunk. Heat flooded her cheeks, and she inwardly cursed her inherent diabolic timing.

    Here she was about to climb into the Sizeomatron to be fitted with the perfect sex-android, and she had to encounter the most desirable man she had ever laid eyes on.

    "Miss, it's standard procedure." The disembodied voice of the technician overseeing her Android fitting broke through the fog in her lust for brains head. "We need to take exact internal measurements, to program your Orgasmatron to fit for maximum pleasure penetration. The easiest way to achieve that is with an all over body scan. This was all explained in the brochure."

    Eliza groaned and wished the ground to swallow her up.

    "Do we have to do this in front of an audience?"

    She smiled at the man still holding her, and the technician laughed.

    "We do, cause that's your android."

    250 words @mamaD8

  10. “Breathe, Jimmy.”

    I nodded to Racheal on dispatch as she rubbed my back. I wiped my face, trying to stop the flood of tears; being a dad is never easy but when your child is hurt, it’s especially hard. Jacoby and I might be medics, but it’s different when it’s your child.

    “Remember, it’s standard procedure to operate on a break like that. Given Cilla’s age, I doubt you’ll keep her down long. She’ll go to school in a couple of weeks and her cast will have so many signatures you won’t be able to see the wrap.”

    I chuckled as Racheal reached for my hand and pulled me to my feet. Her son broke his leg two months ago and was almost healed; my daughter crashed her bike on our gravel road today and broke her leg in three places.

    “Now, let’s get you to surgery waiting.”

    I pulled in a deep breath. “It sucks when my kid is hurt.”

    “I know. But after the first week, Collin was back to normal. He loves to test the limits of my patience with his crutching antics. In a week you’ll need a helmet so she doesn’t biff it off her crutches and crack her head open.”

    I couldn’t help but laugh. My kid is a clumsy as me and I should’ve seen this coming. Settling next to my husband, I kissed his cheek. He squeezed my hand, glancing between Racheal and me, his eyebrows raised.

    “Long story.”

    247 words

  11. It’s standard procedure. The flippant remark replayed again and again in Tad’s thoughts. Why he was the only one to see Angel’s worth he’d never understand. He’d bet not even the woman herself was speaking in her favor. As soon as he had time to spare, he’d bend her over his knee and redden her beautiful backside.

    He waited in the vacant court yard to learn her sentence while the sky continued to empty all it had like it was trying to force out the filth. Tad just wanted someone to blame. He wiped at his rain soaked hands and water rolled off his head in a constant torrent.

    “Angel,” he shouted when he spotted her leaving the commanders barracks. He ran after her. “Angel, wait.”

    “There’s nothing you can do. Go back to your station, Tad.” She stopped, but didn't turn. “You told me, you told me not to pull over and help those kids.”

    A chill ran straight through him. “I didn't predict their scheme. I just didn't want to stall our return.” He took hold of her hand and pulled her into his arms. “I can have you off this planet and away from this fate in an hour.”

    “I couldn't ask that of you—”

    “Nonsense. I promised you forever this afternoon and I’d prefer it not to end tonight.”

    224 words

  12. Tommy checked the list carefully, reviewing each step of the procedure, making certain he’d followed the procedure precisely. He had. Remove the new USB FLASH drive from its container. Insert it into the slot labeled “B”. Wait until the light above slot “B” stopped blinking, and turned green. Insert the drive to be copied in the slot labeled “A”. Wait until the light above slot “A” stopped blinking, and turned green. Press the red button. When the light above the red button stopped blinking, and turned green, remove the drive from slot “A”. Wait until the light above slot “A” stopped blinking, and turned red. Then remove the drive from slot “B”. Wait until the light above slot “B” stopped blinking and turned red. Insert the new drive from slot “B” into slot “A”. Wait for the light above slot “A” to stop blinking and turn green. Push the green button. Wait until the light above the green button stopped blinking and turned green.

    The light had stopped blinking, and turned red. The procedure didn’t say what to do if the light turned red. Tommy didn’t know what to do. “Something’s wrong,” he declared.

    I smiled. “No. Nothing’s wrong. It’s just standard procedure. We need to know if job applicants are able to apply procedures correctly.” I stood up. “Read the next page.”

    That page said, “If you found this on your own, you’re hired. If I had to tell you, thanks for applying.” Tommy did not get the job.

    250 words

  13. #ThursThreads is now CLOSED. Thanks to everyone who wrote this week and I hope to see you next week. :)

  14. Criminy! Here I am trying to writing something before 7PM Pacific time and I have the wrong bloody day! LOL!

    Well, here's what I wrote, anyway, so it's not completely wasted.


    "You certainly ask a lot of questions."

    "It's standard procedure, ma'am. What you claim is very unusual, and we must be thorough in our investigation before we can confirm or deny what you have said."

    "Why would I lie about something like this? Do you know what I've been through over the last two days?"

    "Well, ma'am, sometimes, no matter how truthful someone is, they may not KNOW that what they are saying doesn't properly reflect the facts of the case. They may not have seen or heard everything accurately or there may be other extenuating circumstances. Even then, there ARE people who embellish the stories or the causes may actually be traced back to them."

    "Are you insinuating something? I was standing right there. I had just walked into the room when it happened. I may even be WHY it happened: he looked up from what he was doing and WHAM that's when it happened."

    "So, you're saying that your husband - a vampire - was working on some carpentry and using the radial arm saw. Right at that time, you walked into the workshop, he looked up, momentarily letting go of the what he was cutting, it split, bounced off the wall and plunged directly into your husband's heart and that is why you are filing an accidental death claim against your policy with our company? Are you sure you're not 'WHY it happened' for quite a different reason?"

    246 words


Comments are on moderation, so they'll become visible once I've read them. Words, words, words. I love them. Have you a few to lend?

Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.