Some world building to show what happened during Harry's death was nice Celestin.

 

What Zenzao said. I feel that Lara was a tiny bit too obvious about it all. Anyways, nice to see someone contributing. I'll try to add something tonight.

 

In response to Link's challenge:
In Proven Guilty, Harry Dresden does nothing when Molly Carpenter removes her robe and reveals her naked body to the Wizard, little after being taken as an apprentice. What if he let his primal instincts take over? After all, it's not crime if she's willing to do it.

I apologize for any similiarity to Aegypt's story "Teach me". The intro got disturbingly close to his work and I have no frickin' clue how. 0.o

***


"Teach me everything."

There are certain things in life you just don't do. Like talk at the theatre, or like the Starwars prequels, or have sex with your 17-year-old apprentice. At least that had been my moral standpoint for a long time. But with a beautiful 17-year-old girl standing naked in front of the my fireplace, her skin almost glowing in the amber light, I was having a hard time remembering why I had that rule.

"People these days have so many foolish notions of morality, my host," Lasciel's voice, touched with exasperation, echoed in my mind. "She is willing and more than ready. Why should you not grant her that which she desires?"

"Because it's wrong, damnit," I shot back at the fallen angel. "On so many levels I can't even count them."

Lasciel snorted in a fashion both unladylike and un-angelic.

"Would it not be better if she were to experience this with you first, Harry?"

She appeared behind Molly, trailing a finger along the girl's nipple and the ring piercing it. The younger girl didn't react, of course, Lasciel wasn't corporeal. Even so, it made for a damn arousing sight.

"Would it not?" She insisted. "Rather than with someone who might be less considerate?"

I met Molly's eyes. They were blue and huge, pupils dilated.

"Look at her, my host." Despite efforts to the contrary, my gaze slipped again in a downward direction. "She wants you. She is wet for you - And you are tormenting her by standing there doing nothing."

Her voice was honeyed and as much as it sucked to admit it, she wasn't lying. Molly looked so vulnerable where she stood, fidgeting and uncertain, that I couldn't help myself from talking the one step that'd bring us close enough for it to be intimate. Her response was immediate and painfully obvious. Her breathing deepened and her hand twitched, as if she'd been about to move it and then changed her mind.

"Kiss her," Lasciel instructed.

I noted her voice had gone husky with desire, which was weird on multiple levels. Since she shared my mind, did the fact that I had almost no blood flowing to my brain anymore affect her too? Or did that part work separately? Or a mix between both? I decided that the question was fucking irrelevant and bent down to kiss Molly.

Her response reminded me, in a way, of my own first time. She met the kiss eagerly, a bit too much so in point of fact, and I broke it off after a few seconds. Her mouth tasted of the minty toothpaste from my bathroom.

"Easy," I said, taking the opportunity to openly appreciate her. "Relax."

She nodded rapidly. The kiss that followed was slower and she stepped in close so that our bodies were pressed together.

"There's not going to be a final grade afterwards," I assured her and she chuckled weakly.

As the minutes went on, Molly began to press herself against me in slow undulating motions that brought her sex in contact with my thigh and pressed her stomach against the bulging front of my jeans. The pressure made my knees wobble and I decided it was time to move things elsewhere. I lifted Molly up and she took advantage of the elevation immediately, pressing herself against me and drawing a hissing exhalation past my lips.

For a moment, the couch beckoned me. Molly was almost six feet tall and judging by the way her ass felt in my hands, she was doing some kind of physical exercising. I stubbornly ignored the complaints from my arms and carried her to the bedroom. On the bed, Molly decided to remedy the uneven distribution of clothing among us and two minutes of clumsy but enthusiastic kissing later, she'd managed it. I looked at her where she sat, straddled across my hips, and found myself smiling.

"This might hurt a little," I warned her. It had for Elaine, that first time so many years ago. Molly's cheeks went red. Well, more so anyways.

"I've - Uh - Kinda done that part before, by myself."

"Oh," I said awkwardly, relieved.

We switched positions so that I was on top of her and I took full advantage of the situation, taking one of her nipples, ring and all, between my lips. She shuddered and her back arched, bringing her hips up against my body. I couldn't help but smirk as I swirled my tongue around the golden loop and she whimpered. We switched positions again over the next few minutes and Molly displayed her ability to put a condom on me. With her mouth. It was awesome.

She descended onto me at a tortuously slow pace, but I forced myself to remain still. Her skin shone with sweat as she began to move, her eyes drifting close in bliss.

"She is quite the beauty," Lasciel remarked from beside me on the bed.

I glanced in her direction and the sight made me meet one of Molly's measured movements. She moaned softly. Blonde and athletic looking, Lasciel lay on my bed in the knee-length Greek-style toga she'd always don. Only now it was pulled up to her hips and she had her hand down between parted thighs, trailing fingers along trimmed tawny curls. Which I found disturbingly hot. I sat up on the bed as well as I could and pulled Molly closer, even as she continued to move, pressing her breasts against my chest, her pebble-hard nipples and the piercings an intriguingly pleasant tactile addition.

"Touch her clitoris, Harry," Lasciel's voice said from behind me, her instructive tone of voice a breathy caress in of itself. "And bite her neck, gently."

"It's not my first time," I thought, annoyed, and sent it in her direction. But I did as she'd suggested, slipping my hand in between Molly's body and my own, parting the slick folds at the top of her sex to reach the small sensitive nub hidden there. Molly shuddered at the first contact and after only a few seconds, she'd put her arms around me in vice grip, hips jerking and body shaking violently as a series of low moans slipped past her lips.

I just stared at her. Had she just...? With a little mewling sound, her body went limp against mine, save for a little tremor every now and then when I shifted my body. When I'd shared my first time with Elaine, it had been over in a couple of seconds. Which had been awkward..

"Hey," I whispered to Molly, who looked kind of groggy. She shifted, eyes drifting close as another little aftershock went through her body, and then looked down at where we were joined and where I was, still, painfully hard.

"Oh," she said, in a small voice.

Shame crept across her face, but was quickly replaced with determination. She slid off me, pushed me back against the bed again with a soft hand against my chest, then lay down beside me and took a hold of my shaft. On the other side of the bed, Lasciel rested her head against my shoulder, the hand between her thighs speeding up in synchronisation with Molly's. I paid attention to my apprentice, directing her efforts. Her firm breasts pushed against my arm and chest as she laboured and I groaned as I came messily all over her hands and stomach.

We had enough energy left afterwards to shower and to throw the stained covers into a corner before sleep came for us with a large stick and knocked us unconscious. I woke up aching, but for the most part, it was a good kind of ache. And, as a bonus of considerable importance, there was a warm, soft female body draped across my own.

It had been years since Susan had left and I hadn't fully realised just how much I'd missed it. There was an "Mmm..." sound from Molly as she stretched out lazily on the bed, a thoroughly distracting sight. She caught me looking and smiled sleepily at me.

"Morning," she whispered, cuddling up closer, resting her head against my chest. I mumbled something only loosely related to actual English in return. I cleared my throat.

"We have a few things to talk about, Molly. Stuff I was going to bring up last night before we got - uh- distracted."

Her smile broadened and I felt her hands leave neutral grounds.

"Later," she said, slender fingers quickly coaxing a reaction from my weary body. "For now-"

She straddled my hips, which I did not object to in the slightest.

And then there was a knock on the door. A rapid bam-bam-bam of fists striking metal with what I took to be great agitation, followed by Charity's Carpenter's shout.

"Harry Dresden, open the door this instant!"

Molly jumped off me so quickly that she almost fell off the bed and I just sat there in shock for a moment before joining my apprentice in getting dressed.

"What're we going to do?" She asked in a panicked whisper.

I looked from her to the door where Charity kept on making a ruckus.

"Uh-"

Fuck it. I'd been curious what was on the Nevernever side of my apartment for a while now anyways.


***

Well, there we go. Someone in the chat requested porn so blame them, not me.

 

dammit.

Missing 'be' between 'not' and 'better'?

Missing space-break between the period and 'Molly'.

Missing 'her' between 'had' and 'hand'.

Missing 'voice' between 'Lasciel's' and 'said'.

Missing 'body' or nix the s.

Missing space-break between the period and 'When'.

Missing 'to' between 'attention' and 'my'.

Possibly missing space-break here.

Should be 'an', I think.

Alright, that out of the way, I liked it.

Having Lasciel show up was an added bonus, and you gave adequate descriptions to the actual intercourse. I liked Harry's 'voice' here as it reminds me of the actual Dresden overall, so points for that.

Charity's abrupt appearance at the end and the "Oh shit!" reactions by Molly and Harry were a nice point to conclude the piece on.

 

Corrections made. I thought it'd quite frankly be a pretty interesting piece to see Harry juggle banging his apprentice while actually teaching her, seeing as his authorative role would be kind of undermined by the sex.

Plus, trying to hang out with the Carpenters while keeping the secret.

Anyways, since I've written, I'll put out a challenge.

Setting: The party at the beginning of Cold Days.
Length: No fucks given.

I want Maeve and Santa to be hanging out. In a fashion that's actually sweet, not creepy.

 

Spoiler

Kind of difficult when she's buck ass naked, don'tcha think?

 

Admittedly true. But it's not like that situation can't be remedied.

---------- Post automerged 11-27-2012 at 01:54 AM ---------- Previous post was 11-26-2012 at 09:21 AM ----------

Spoiler

Mab and Sarissa on their BFF day. Seriously.

 

The lesser of two evils.
​

Gentleman Johnny Marcone.

One of the biggest sleazeballs I had ever had the misfortune to become acquainted with, standing right there with an offer laying on the table for his very own personal metaphysical consultant.

He had enough money to make a dozen suits out of hundreds to match his faded-dollar-bill-green eyes for every day of the year, and still have enough left over to fill up a small pool to swim in.

I hadn't had a solid source of income since I started up my private investigator shtick a few years back, and for a few moments, I paused to envision just what all I could do with the kind of salary those terms said he was willing to pay me to sign up as his hit-wizard.

Oh, I had no illusions as to what he really wanted my more-than-marginal talents for, but the contract laying there was quite circumspect in the wording.

Outside of that little flaw, I'll admit that it felt pretty damn good thinking of what my life could be like in the nominal hours.

But for every pro that I could find, the cons of being a wizard in this century knocked them back down a few pegs; what good was a fancier apartment or, more than likely, an actual house, if I'd just burn out the water heater and electrical systems within a day?

What could I do with a better mode of transportation if it would just breakdown and cost me a small fortune to repair? The Blue Beetle was slow and my god, was it an embarrassment to drive around in, but I could reasonably rely on it to get me there on time when it counted for what for.

No. Housing and transportation were non-factors in this equation, and the only things I could measure the potential deal in the making by were the other aspects of my life that could be impacted.

My reputation with Chicago PD's Special Investigations unit wasn't at an all time high at the moment, and what little I had regained since the Sells' incident wasn't enough to mend the fence with Karrin Murphy, which meant that I wasn't going to be looking to them for a case and the usual exorbitant-per-hour quota I used to get from them semi-infrequently.

Without that, I was already past-due on this month's rent, to say nothing of the next month's.

But even still, I could probably scrounge up something from somewhere to get through by the skin of my teeth, just as I had in the days before becoming SI's consultant.

What ultimately changed my mind about immediately rejecting Marcone's deal and telling him to shove it was the effect his name carried with it in spoken circles.

When news spread that Gentleman Johnny Marcone was coming through a section of Chicago, the rest of the criminals with two braincells to rub together took their illegal activities to another section of the town, and though I hated to admit it, he wielded his considerable political clout like a surgeon would a scalpel.

In four years, he had never been successfully charged with a single case.

Anyone else stupid enough to hang around and try to duke it out with him usually found out why Marcone had won out over the Jamaicans and Vargassi family those four years ago.

The name of 'Harry Dresden', on the other hand, was typically accompanied with skeptic stares and unpleasant muttering about my hourly rates, even when I provided the services agreed to by those desperate enough to ask for my help.

And dammit if that doesn't grate on my nerves more than almost anything else in the world.

I'm trying to save lives and help the little guy out along the way, but most of the time, the little guy is too busy adamantly refusing to acknowledge reality until it takes a bite out of their head one midnight stroll to offer even common courtesy.

And that wasn't even accounting for the vast opinion of the White Council.

Even now, with the Doom of Damocles lifted at last and by their own reluctant order, I was viewed my many of my fellow and older council-members as a danger to the Council's reputation at the best of times, and an volatile threat at the worst.

Exhaling, I nodded my head.

I wouldn't sign up to help Johnny Marcone under normal circumstance.

I wouldn't want to disappoint my teacher or the views of magic he had instilled in me after helping to spare my life about a seven or eight years ago.

But there were times when he had mentioned the lesser of two evils, and if Marcone didn't put me on the tab, than who would he turn to next?

I knew enough wizards of the White Council to know that none of them would agree, and nor would they take kindly to him trying.

More likely, he'd find another Victor Sells somewhere, easily lured in by the money and having no compunctions about murder, and then I'd be up to my neck in bloodshed that I could have avoided.

I picked up the sheet of fine paper and scanned the terms printed there again, frowning at the lack of casual-loopholes, and picking up the pen, I scratched through two or three lines I found unappealing before setting the sheet back down and facing him.

Marcone examined them and sighed quietly beneath his breath. "I had wondered if you would even understand the meaning behind those words, Mister Dresden," he said with a light condescension in his tone.

I scowled.

"Do you want my help or not?" I shot back, tapping the pen irritably against my left palm.

He took an extra moment reviewing the striked-out words, then turned the sheet back around to face me again.

"I would prefer to have the full access of your abilities at my command, Mister Dresden, but I am willing to wait and see if you review your opinion about our relationship throughout the life of this contract," he answered mildly.

I snorted at that, triple-checking to make sure I was willing to do this and that I hadn't missed something.

Then I started the first good intention along the long road to hell.

===

Approximately 1000 words. Did I do it justice? Not yet sure, given I can not recall when Marcone made his offer to Harry, so I'm assuming its near or just before the start of the book and before the Loup-garou situation really appears.

I'm thinking of working on this some more and expanding it more fully, like I did with Fallen King originally.

 

The contract was given to Harry as he lay beaten to a pulp in the Full moon garage, if memory serves. Also, you might wanna look over the first sentence. Didn't make grammatical sense to me.

That aside, you've captured both characters well.

 

Challenge: One hour, 1000 - 1800 words - Anyone

Line: Harry Dresden glanced at the photo of Murphy's late ex-husband. He looked frightfully similar to Nicodemus Archleone.

 

"For all her power and knowledge, Mab doesn't always understand people very well. She asks me questions. Sometimes, we watch television, or go to movies, or listen to music. I've taken her to rock concerts. We've gone ice skating. Shopping. Clubbing. Once we went to Disneyland."

Sarissa to Harry, Cold Days.

The challenge is to either depict any of the things Sarissa mentions from her point of view, or have Harry (or your choice of Dresden Files character) run into the two of them on any of these activities.

 

We all know what you're thinking Zee.
Incest is teh wrong

 

No. That's not what I want at all. Yooou sick fuck.

 

I must admit, I'd read the shit out of Mab at Disneyland.

 

Challenge: For anyone
Length: between 1000 and 3000 words.
Time: However long it takes.
Line: Glancing at Molly's dropped tampon, to Murphy's drawn gun, to the pair of bloodstained handcuffs, hanging from the lampshade, I could not help think of the long day ahead of me.

Good luck.

 

A new challenger has appeared!

Line: Now more then ever Harry Dresden regretted having taken up Arturo Genosa's offer to star in a few of his movies.

One Hour
1000 - 1800 words

 

Challenged accepted. God help me.

 

In answer to a prompt that was originally for Nuhuh, Sorry if this doesn't live up to expectations, I hope some of you like it. No big jokes or action-y scenes, just pure character development as best as I could. I give you:


That one Time Harry Dresden Got Really Drunk
The world was spinning and the hokey-pokey was playing on repeat in my head. I couldn’t feel my tongue and a porcupine had taken residence in my skull. I think he’s the one who brought the boombox. I mashed my face in my hands before standing, giving Mac a wave and making my way out of the pub. I’d had too many and I knew it.

Alcohol and me, well I can stand one or two but too many and we mix like water and oil, that is to say we don’t. I stumbled a bit before looking at the Blue Beetle. It was parked legally, I’ll give myself that, but Hell’s Bells was it crooked. I grunted as I walked to the driver’s side door and attempted to enter the key. It didn’t work.

In fact, one could say I failed spectacularly. The window would need replacing. I placed a hand on the hood of the car as I swayed. I’d have to either hail a cab and risk the power outage or take a way through the NeverNever. I had mom’s amulet so I should be ok, I think, maybe.

I looked around, then took a hold of the necklace and stilled. I cleared my head of the cobwebs and dust for a few moments as I concentrated on finding the quickest and easiest way through to my apartment. A niggling feeling in the base of my skull directed me to an alley that had a few trashcans and a big pile of shit in the corner. Great, the closest psychological imprint in the NeverNever of my apartment was trash and shit. I grunted again, beginning to like this caveman language I was exhibiting.

I held my hand out and exerted a bit of will, I closed my eyes in focus and felt the whisper of power leave me. Either I’m extremely drunk, or I’m getting better at this as my opening no longer showed as a rip or a tear in the fabric of reality, it was closer to the Gatekeeper’s opening in that it resembled a slightly parted curtain. I smiled at that, ‘the show must go on’.

I tripped a bit and stumbled through the opening, walked about five steps to the left and opened the door in front of me without thinking. My step faltered.

I stared into the room, filled with beautiful women. Like ridiculously hot, beyond model, hotness. I blinked slowly. There were a few cursory glances in my direction as they went about their business. I was befuddled. Did they know that I was there?

Did they know they were naked?

“What in the hell is going on,” I practically shouted, speech slurred from shock and drink. As one, they stopped and turned to stare at me. I gulped like in the cartoons, I swear. Finally, one very naked female stepped forward.

“What does the Winter Knight-to-be want with Her Ladies in Waiting?” the female purred. My eyes probably popped out of my head as I noticed they were not quite human. Sidhe, High Sidhe to be correct. I was fucked. Well and truly fucked.

‘Well, I mean you might not be ‘going-to-die fucked’ my brain shot back.’ I vehemently disagreed, but another part of my body sprung up a bit, looking around for what my brain was indicating.

“I’m sorry ladies, I didn’t mean to intrude, I’ll just be going.” I turned to high tail it out of there. The Sidhe caught my arm though. I gulped again. As she turned me back, a few of them had some extremely predatory grins. What I wouldn’t give to have a stick that I could throw and say, “fetch” right now. A few more sauntered to my side and I gasped as one started to massage my shoulders.

“Yes!” screamed my inner self even as my brain slowly processed the danger I was in. Finally it came to one conclusion.

“Ah, fuck it. Who’s first,” I muttered. A few of the grins became downright menacing and that did nothing to deter Little Harry, his mind was already made up that he was going to enjoy this immensely, at my expense of course.

“You know, if I wasn’t so drunk, this might not have happened,” I muttered to myself, even as I was led into the room. I noticed it wasn’t cold, not even a bit, in fact it was a little on the warm side. I started to remove my jacket when I felt someone helping me out of the duster and removed my hat. My shirt followed as I sat down. I wasn’t bothered in the least.

“Come, wizard, let us show you true pleasure." I stopped for a moment and held up my hand in indication of a pause.

“Don’t I need, like a condom or something?” Little Harry was shouting in fury as my brain tried one last time to help me out of this pickle. The Sidhe tittered and smiled before one of them produced the little packet. Little Harry was shouting obscenities and curses in my head as I slowly lowered my pants. I was helped out of them and another helped me out of my boxers.

As I stood there in alll my glory, I slowly felt myself stiffening and I looked down to see Little Harry readying himself. The Sidhe women all glanced at him as he came to attention, a few had some impressed looks. Perhaps I’m bigger than I thought I was.

I was attempting to maneuver the condom on and I was failing miserably, so unsteady was I. The lead female stepped forward and helped me out. Oh, she put the condom on too.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this wizard?” I glanced around the room at the fifteen or so women in it. I allowed myself a goofy grin as my brain shut down and Little Harry took over.

“You know those times when you really shouldn't be operating any heavy machinery, even if magic offers a bit of a shortcut? Yeah, it was one of those times."

 

I feel you could've done a lot more with that.

 

>.> I don't write porn.