# LM 05/03/2010 New Monsters and Double-Blind Story Repository



## moderan (May 31, 2010)

No comments or reviews, please. This is an official contest thread.

story #1 - link


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## moderan (May 31, 2010)

*Anonymous
Official Contest Entry-New Monsters and Double-Blind

The  Blind Judge*​ _As  bucolic pasture to treasury  gold, thus also Athena's avatars._​ 
*Once Fooled*

Like bloody zit-juice  squeezed from over-ripe pimples, Torman-Hammer erupted from the  underworld.

"Not invited,' said  Parthenos, inspecting her décolletage for slime-spatter. Only the  debutante-aunt, she nevertheless wore the virgin-peplos, for clothes  hung her sister Polias like a stick.

"A staining of the  marble," agreed Polias. "The Acropolis patio is no  bandy-legged-urchin-dias."

"Looks apish," added  Parthenos, "Walking inside-out. Muddy-soled.  Neckless-frogsnout-weakshoulder-slimefactory. Wretched." She pulled at  the split bodice, still intent on contamination, revealing ivory  nipples.

"Hung like a horse,"  murmured Polias. "Dragging pavement. How's it work, up in his chest?  Quite horsey!... SISTER PLEASE!' She glared at her sister and slapped  Parthenos' hand from the adamantine bosom; from incipient  self-stimulation, presumably involuntary.

"At Sowe'uh's banquet, you  should expect monsters," said Parthenos, stung. "Even if she's pretty  as me, she's still your daughter. Olives don't fall _that_ far from  the tree." She looked at Torman-Hammer. "Unless stolen by a toad."

Polias turned abruptly.  "You there," she said, "Escort that monster out."

Awaiting beloved Sowe'uh's  presentation, I'd hidden behind the two, like Cinderella's Prince from  the step-sisters. I'd expected my own expulsion and so hurried to  comply.

"I Torman-Hammer," the  monster said. "I carry fertile seed. Females are promised."

"Unexpectedly conversant,"  thought I. "Albeit directed skyward." A big-belly frog, stood up  ape-man-like, head reversed so eyes below sky-gaping mouth;  Torman-Hammer pictured. Excepting the horse business. Between arm-thin  bow-legs, still swaying slightly and slobbering ectoplasmic slime, hung  an enormous scrotum. Running up his proximal side, an attached  sheathskin.

"Females," I repeated.  "This way please." He walked stiffly past the sisters. A pink dagger  slit-flicked at his sheath termination.

We trudged gateward. He  told a tangled tale, reminding me of Hebrew fantasia. Child sacrifice  and inheritance theft. His rescue to this world. Escaping with the  forefather-seed, which required, he insisted, immediate planting. 

As we stood aside,  Sowe'uh's procession halted under the arch. Save only prepubescent  train-virgins, she waved entourage away.

Her face turned past me to  Torman-Hammer. Was there recognition in her brief glance? He executed a  bow, consisting mostly of bouncing the flagstone with those things.

"All is in readiness," she  told him. "During my entry, the sisters isolate in the Dark Temple. You  go that way."

I knew my way around  Acropolis, being a novitiate, though of Dionysus. But our order embraced  Sowe'uh, His perfect mate. She pointed to a hidden adit, recalling  something. "Cirgel, isn't it?" she asked me. "You're a Bacchanalite."  She glanced my package. "Show him the way. Please?"

*My Shame*

"Yyyyes, I'mmmmm  Ccccirgggggel," I attempt answering, but only nod.

Quick as a frog's tongue,  she snatch-grabs ahold the pink dagger. "Do not fail me," Sowe'uh warns  Torman-Hammer, "Or holocaust awaits you."

Apparently stimulated by  threats, he turns eagerly toward the path. His weapon rises above his  head, sharp and undulating, like the Persian flame sword.

Sowe'uh touches my arm and  we kiss for the first time. Me mostly. Bent down. On her extended  knuckles.


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## moderan (Jun 1, 2010)

New Monsters and Double Blind Official Entry

*Satyricon*

by anonymous


An unobtrusive orchid, green flowers just barely rising above the marsh grass. The wizards would pay a premium price for this rare bloom. Amber reached forward.

“Don’t touch that!”

Amber whirled around. A satyr stood right behind her. How had he managed to sneak up on her? The ranger slid her arm down toward her dagger. The satyr moved, quick as a fly, and grabbed her wrists, twisting them behind her, pulling her close. Earthy satyr musk filled Amber’s nostrils.

“A human – woman?” he said, anger fading. His dark eyes traced her body’s curves down and returned to her face. Amber averted her eyes.

And saw something . . . odd.

Something drifted out from the foliage behind the satyr. It was shaped roughly like a potato, but five feet long and floating several feet above the grass.

The satyr shifted its grip, grasping both Amber’s wrists. With its free hand, it caressed the captive woman.

The thing moved gently toward the unaware satyr, glistening with shiny wet bubbles bordered by charcoal flesh. Short twiglike appendages protruded from amongst the bubbles, and many long stalks that looked like grass but waved with their own purpose. Green-flowered orchids like the one in the marsh grass grew on top.

The satyr growled, its lust rising, and it stroked Amber’s neck.

The thing moved closer, as though propelled by a gentle breeze. Amber saw, over the satyr’s shoulder, that the stalks had sharp points.

The satyr’s claws grasped Amber’s tunic, ready to rip and tear.

A stalk bent rapidly and pierced one of the thing’s bubbles with its needle point. There was a sharp explosion, a whir of air, and a thunk, as of an arrow hitting home. The satyr fell forward, pinning Amber beneath it, musky sweat dripping on her face. The satyr’s pupils widened and its body jerked into seizure.

Amber froze, watching the thing float over the satyr above her. Tendrils squeezed out from the flesh, dropping down to latch into the fur and skin of the spasming satyr. The tendrils retracted, pulling the fleshy bubble creature down to the satyr, inches from Amber. Its body touched the satyr, which went limp. There was a clatter, and the bubble-thing rose, lifting the satyr off Amber.

The thing floated away with its prey, leaving Amber encircled by small stones and bits of bone. She rolled over and stealthily began to crawl away. There was another pop, and she felt a dart hit her leg. Blackness overcame her.

When she woke, the thing was gone. She breathed in relief. It was a defensive dart, that was all, meant to immobilize her until the thing got away with its dinner.

Amber had been lucky. The swamp was not usually so forgiving. She rose, but couldn’t get her balance and fell. She tried again and fell again. Her feet –
Amber pulled off a boot.

And saw her hoof. On the end of her satyr's leg.


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## moderan (Jun 1, 2010)

Story 4 - link


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## moderan (Jun 2, 2010)

Story #5 - link


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## moderan (Jun 4, 2010)

Story #6 - link


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## moderan (Jun 7, 2010)

Story #7 - link


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## moderan (Jun 7, 2010)

Story #8 - link


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## moderan (Jun 7, 2010)

The competition is now closed to submissions. Judges, you may begin. Scores are due in my pm box by midnight EST next Sunday, June 13.


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