# The Man who Can Only Get Off on...



## paintedglasses (May 20, 2010)

'Short story' I wrote yesterday afternoon.

Head's up: contains 'mature' content
Word count: just over 1000

*The Man who Can Only Get Off on Rape Fantasy and the Woman who Loves Him and They Both Love Each Other*​
“What do you want from me?”

“I want the money in your purse. And your vagina.”

Peter threw Sally onto the bed, lights turned low and the air conditioner set to a chilly sixty-two degrees. He pulled the layers of clothing away from her sweet flower slowly, as there was only one, her lace Victoria’s Secret™ underpants. He scuffed his knees on the carpet, hard, until he could convince himself that he was in a back alley or behind a bar somewhere. Then could he become aroused.

Sally lay face down on the mattress, waiting for Peter to enter. As she felt him move closer she stiffened, feigning the slightest of resistance. The intercourse proceeded for over a minute, Sally slowly unfreezing and joining Peter’s rhythm.

“Do you think you could move a little to the left? It’s not getting me in the right spot,” Sally said quietly.

“Oh. Sorry,” Peter apologized.

Their love-making continued until Peter was exhausted. Sally continued with a vibrator and help from Peter until she was finished as well. As they gathered the sheets off the bed to take them to the washing machine, Peter leaned over to Sally and kissed her lightly on the lips.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, honey.”

Peter walked back to the bedroom, removing his Hamburglar™ mask and placing it in his bottom dresser drawer, behind his collection of old but ultimately valueless baseball cards. There was also a plastic knife, and a slightly-realistic looking water pistol that broke when he had jammed it with K-Y™ Liquid Lubricant.

“Peter, I’m going to get in the shower. We need to hurry; your mother is going to be back with Rachel in half an hour.”

“Whoops! Ok.”

Peter bathed in the guest shower while Sally was in the master, and after they had both dried and dressed themselves they saw a forest green Toyota™ Sienna pull into their driveway. A girl of approx. thirteen ran up the sidewalk, followed slowly by a woman of over eighty with dyed auburn hair. Sally opened the door to welcome them in.

“Hi honey! How was your time with Grandma?”

“It was fun! We watched Murder She Wrote and ate flavorless cookies.”

“That’s nice dear,” Peter said, and walked his mother back to her car. He thought that she probably shouldn’t be driving at her age, but not so much that he wanted to make personal sacrifices because of it.

“So Rachel, are you ready for your big soccer game today?”

“I’m not playing soccer anymore. I’m trying to date Grayson now. He’s on the travel soccer team.”

“But wouldn’t you playing soccer too make him like you more?”

“No, he says girls that play soccer are dykes.”

“Oh, well that is not very nice. Maybe you don’t want to date Grayson.”

“But he’s soooo dreamy.”

“Young woman, I did not play five years of intramural tennis in college so that a daughter of mine could throw away her passions and opportunities over some boy!”

“But he’s not ‘some boy’ mom-”

“You are going to play in your soccer game and that is final, I don’t care how much of a dyke it makes you,” Sally said, slightly angered. “Peter, start the car, we’re going to be late.”

Fifteen minutes later, Peter parked the family car in the parking lot of the local public park and athletic complex. Rachel exited the car, still grumbling, in her soccer jersey and shorts, carrying her cleats. Peter and Sally wished her luck and sat down on the bleachers. Rachel flipped them off when they weren’t looking. Sally got up and walked over to talk with the coach and make sure Rachel got enough playing time. A man walked up behind where Peter was sitting and clapped him on the shoulder.

“How’s it going, Tom?” the man said.

“My name is Peter,” Peter said.

“Oh, yeah. Well, beautiful day today, isn’t it? Angelina’s been really looking forward to today, she’s been training hard. I bet she’ll score three or four goals today.”

“Doesn’t your daughter play goalie?”

“Anyway, good seeing you, I’ll be in the bleachers on the other side of the field, ready to look you in the eye as I shout in victory while you and your daughter go home to a consolation pizza party. See you ‘round, Tom!”

Rachel scored the only goal for her team by accident. They ate pepperoni pizza.

After dinner they drove to the local outdoor mall and window shopped, sitting in overpriced massage chairs and dreaming of a lifestyle where they could dedicate wardrobes to black and white color combinations. They were possibly going to stop for ice cream, but decided against it as they did not want to encourage Rachel’s delinquency at soccer and Rachel didn’t want any anyway so she could stay pretty for Grayson. After they returned home, they turned on the TV in the family room and watched it. Rachel went to bed at nine thirty-two PM after watching her favorite TV show, as a growing girl needs her sleep. Lying in bed, she swore to never play soccer again, and tried to think of how she could circumvent her middle school’s dress code to seduce Grayson.

Down the hall, Peter and Sally were also now lying in bed, having changed into their respective sleepwear. Peter read a chapter of the small business self-help book he kept on his bedside table, and Sally watched HGTV™ and fantasized about re-landscaping their backyard. Peter, done with his book for the night, went to the bathroom to brush his teeth and remove his contacts. Sally soon joined him, brushing her teeth as well and taking two antacids for the pizza they ate earlier. After they turned out the lights, but before they got back into bed, Peter grabbed Sally and pulled her close, turning her to face him. Sally, initially startled, soon responded, looking up at Peter’s face despite the darkness.

“Are you trying to steal a kiss?”

“That’s the only way I want them.”


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## Eiji Tunsinagi (May 20, 2010)

I'm not sure how I feel about this -- it started off amusing, and then quickly slightly disturbing, and then simply... odd.  I think it has a lot to do with the voice you're employing in the piece, it feels a bit too cold -- which contributed to my disturbed feeling.  Is this what you're going for?  Also, all the branding added to the coldness for some reason -- is the Hamburglar mask, K-Y, HGTV etc supposed to be ironic?  It felt that way (which was very funny, actually) -- but paired with the writing style felt a little out of place, like you weren't going for humor but more for a specific, systematic detailing of the plot you've prepared.

Also, great two first lines of dialogue.  Definitely humorous, and effective.

And welcome to the forum!  It's always nice to see a shocking and unique piece like this one.

I certainly want to hear what others have to say about this.


stephen


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## Tourniquet (May 20, 2010)

I'm also not too sure - I think the writing seemed a little lazy on the portion around the daughter arriving home, and I never really got a sense of what the story was about.  Was it supposed to convey a sense of leading normal lives, while secretly living out these rape fantasies?  I'm not sure.


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## JosephB (May 20, 2010)

I took it as satire. I really like the deadpan humor and the banality of it. Seemingly normal, suburbanites with kinky predilections is nothing new, but this treatment makes it interesting. There are some seriously funny lines too.



> “Do you think you could move a little to the left? It’s not getting me in the right spot,” Sally said quietly.
> 
> “Oh. Sorry,” Peter apologized.


That he's considering her during this fantasy is amusing, but it also takes the edge off, in a good way. It reminds me of a scene from "Fun with Dick and Jane" where Jim Carrey's character wants to shake things up by talking dirty. He says a couple of things and his wife is a little disturbed. Then he says, "Sorry, honey, next time,  I'll try to think of some better things to say."



> Peter walked back to the bedroom, removing his Hamburglar™ mask and placing it in his bottom dresser drawer, behind his collection of old but ultimately valueless baseball cards. There was also a plastic knife, and a slightly-realistic looking water pistol that broke when he had jammed it with K-Y™ Liquid Lubricant.


Really like this paragraph. "Hamburglar™ mask." Heh. Excellent.



> “How’s it going, Tom?” the man said.
> 
> “My name is Peter,” Peter said.
> 
> ...


That cracked me up. There's real truth to it. Take from a genuine soccer dad. I also loved the TM's.

It's a pretty strange piece. Oddly compelling. I'd be really interested to see something else from you.

Cheers and welcome.

PS -- nice try on the title, but you kind of show your cards too early.


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## WriterJohnB (May 21, 2010)

I found it amusing and the ™'s cracked me up. I think you should add Flavorless™ cookies to highlight the farcical use of the trademarks. "Then could he become aroused"?  Only then could he become aroused, maybe? Anyway, I enjoyed it.

JohnB


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## Reese (May 23, 2010)

"I took it as satire. I really like the deadpan humor and the banality of it."

I agree.

There is so much to be said for the underlying human character of the "typical" suburdia!


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## thewordsmith (May 23, 2010)

I think some people may be trying to hard to find the finer qualities in this. I have re-read this several times trying to figure out just where it's coming from. If this is the opening to something, it's tedious and boring. If it is intended as a short-short(-short) story in and of itself, it goes absolutely nowhere and probably should stay there. As anything intended for more than your own personal amusement ... mehh. As a writing exercise - fine... here's an opportunity to learn something from it. Just like poor, impotent Peter, it lacks vitality. Even in a 1,000 word flash fic you want to give your reader something to hold onto (honest, I'm trying to avoid suggestive language!) This bit bounces in so many directions, I get seasick just trying to pin down the focus. The allusion to sex is so thin there is more in the title than the story itself. It reads like somebody was horny and didn't have anything better to do so he wrote a bit of drivel to help him to fruition. 
My suggestion is to re-think what you post BEFORE you post it. This was not really worth the space.  

Sorry.


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## paintedglasses (May 23, 2010)

Hey, y'all. Well, I really couldn't have asked for a wider range of responses to this. To start, I'd say that, yes, this is satire; both a satire of suburbia and a satire of satires of suburbia (it was ghostwritten by Xzibit). It's banal to the point of absurdity, and intentionally slightly unsettling and slightly silly. I guess to give an idea of where I'm coming from, my sister always tells me that I shouldn't use sarcasm because I say it straight-faced and she can't tell if I'm joking or not. I always tell her that if I made it obvious I was joking it would ruin the joke. The title was my attempt to throw a 'head's up' that the sex and stuff wasn't really the point of the story and not to take it too seriously, but I guess it didn't do anything to move the line of 'getting' it or not (via JosephB's PS. Also I'll admit having it 'go over' some heads is something I don't really mind from an egotistical standpoint). So, the 'point' of it wasn't in any plot resolution or conveying a message or anything, but more in creating a setting and a feeling.

The point was also copyright humor and saying the word vagina.

Oh, and to thewordsmith, while I am flattered that you would think this could help someone foff off (although how that correlates with the lack of sexuality in it you also state escapes me), I will admit it was started initially as a 'troll' response to an erotic fiction contest. Somehow that was the first contest I found on writing.com. But anyway, it turned into this instead. I entered it anyway; it's probably a better troll for that than I could have written intentionally.


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## Tourniquet (May 23, 2010)

Having seen your position on the topic, I now suddenly find the story hilarious.  I think it's trying to imagine it in an erotic fiction contest.


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## thewordsmith (May 24, 2010)

The comment on the sexuality was directed to your "warning" of 'mature' content and merely intended to point out that it wasn't. Overall, my remarks remain. What you posted was not a short story, which requires some sort of plot direction with some sort of storyline with a rational (on some level) beginning, middle, and end. Your piece had none of these and, therefore, would not qualify as a short story on any level. Again, as flash fic, it fails on many levels as well. It's like the reader keeps waiting for something to happen and ... It's kind of like October, 1612. The end of the world! The end of the world! The great non-event!

But, on another note: As far as sarcasm is concerned. If you _can't_ say it straight-faced, you lose the greatest part of its effect! Stick with that and ... perhaps you might consider stand-up comedy?


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## JosephB (May 24, 2010)

Please let's confine comments to the story. Let's not aim them at each other. Nothing good or constructive can be gained from that.


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