Ladies and gentleman of smut, welcome to this week’s #FantasySmutFriday challenge! Each week, I’ll present a new writing prompt based on a fantasy, and you’ll have one week to craft a flash story(~1,000 or less) that fulfills this fantasy. The plot, events, characters, and twists are all up to you, so long as it brings the fantasy to life.
Recently, I decided to try my hand at recording a reading of one of my stories. That recording was featured on a recent podcast called Aural Sex with Max Lagos. I really enjoyed creating it, and wanted to share it with you here as well. Though it did take a long time to finish; so if I do this again, it will probably be with shorter stories. Enjoy, and check out the full story below if you would like to read along.
I arrived at the Rosemary Psychiatric Institution, where I’ve been promised an interview with a patient who was admitted over two years ago, and whose mental condition remains unchanged. It’s my hope to learn more about the conditions of her admittance, as the media would only say it was of an ‘occult nature’. Those words were what first got my attention. I was a man with a dream of one day becoming a recognised paranormal investigator, but thus far, had only ever investigated frauds and wild goose chases. Ever since this case showed up on the news, I’ve been trying to find out more, thinking this could be my first real break.
The young witch had been sitting on her knees with her arms raised, to preside over her ritual space. She wore a green ritual robe she bought online from a website selling magical goods, and thought it looked good on her, as it emphasized her cleavage, and made her curvy body look far more sexy, in her opinion. Just about all of her ritual goods had been purchased from one store or another, but that fact never seemed to bother her. She’d been a ‘practicing’ witch since she was nineteen, but never recognized the reason none of her spells or rituals ever seemed to work. So it was no surprise that this plea to the goddess was met with an anticlimactic lack of anything happening.