Yet another weird ad for my novels

As Martha Stewart plays with my chest hair, I pillow my head with both hands, smiling smugly up at the ceiling.

“Best Man Whore I’ve ever had,” she marvels.  “How do you do it?”

A mild shrug.  “Locating the clit is just the tip of the iceberg—I’ve got girth, upcurve, an uncanny awareness of when to stimulate the butthole…”  I favor Martha with a rakish grin.  “A Man Whore never reveals his trade secrets.  You wouldn’t give away a prize-winning recipe, would you?”

She gets out of bed, shaking her head in wry amusement.  “All I can say is I’m getting my money’s worth.  Same time next week?”

I’m about to answer when a car drives by, blasting DMX’s classic “X Gon Give It To Ya.”

Love this track!  I bob my head and sing along…then fall silent and examine Martha.  She’s standing stock still, staring straight ahead at nothing in particular.

“Martha?”  I scoot up onto my hands and butt.  “Everything okay?”

She whispers, “Back in prison, when I was serving time for insider trading…I used to sing that song all the time.”  She doubles over, clutching her chest and squinching her eyes.  “HHKKK!  Run, Kent—I can’t control her!  She’s about to take over!” 

“Martha?”  I run to her side, holding out my hands in case she falls.  “MARTHA???”

She straightens up and looks me in the eye, causing me to take a couple steps backward.  Her expression widens into a sadistic grin. 

“Prison Martha’s back, bitch.”

“What the—” 

That’s all I get out before she slaps me silly with her engorged labia.  I careen into the wall—my head snaps back as it mashes my nose.  My legs give out, I fall to the ground, and for a heart-stopping second, the world goes blurry.

I dab my lip, staring disbelievingly at my bloody fingers.  “Martha—”

I take two more labia slaps—wh’pap PAP!—briefly lose consciousness, then come to a moment later. 

“What are you doing?” I murmur weakly. 

She grips my hair, positioning her hips in front of my eye.  “Bout to get me some dome.”  And follows up with an evil chuckle.

Holy.  SHIT.  Martha Stewart is gonna stab me in the eye with her prison-strengthened clit.  I gotta do something now, unless I want to spend the next few weeks wearing big-ass sunglasses, or trying to explain away my bloodshot gaze.

So I open my eReader to a Kent Wayne novel, activating its reality distortion powers.  Magic flash.

In a rush of wind and quick-flash color, Superman appears behind Prison Martha.  He puts his hands on his hips and gives her a Stern Look.

“Hands off the He-whore.”

Martha lets go with a dark chuckle.  “Fine.  But Prison Martha gets what Prison Martha wants.”  She charges Superman with a blood-curdling howl, grabbing his hands and forcing him into a hellish game of Mercy.

Sweat springs out across Superman’s brow.  “Run, Kent!  She’s too damn…STRONG…”  His right knee drops to the deck.

I flee the bedroom as fast as I can.  Good God, if Superman can’t beat her, then—

I hear him shout, “No, not in the EYE!” before he lets loose with a long, wordless scream.

I can’t help it—I break into sobs.  Yes, I escaped Martha’s wrath, but at what cost?


*Theme from Requiem from a Dream*


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30 thoughts on “Yet another weird ad for my novels

  1. 🤣🤣 Perhaps you should start asking family members for big ass dark sunglasses for your next special occasion whatever present, given that you have weekly appointments with Martha and all… Prison Martha is bound to strike again 🤣

    Liked by 1 person

      • 🤣 that’s a great idea! However, might be a good idea to have a backup plan since what prison Martha wants, prison Martha gets… You know, in case she asks you to take that helmet off for certain things so that she remains a satisfied customer.

        Liked by 1 person

      • 🤔😂 Could work! …but unless you’re planning on changing your style to that of a Pretty Woman-esque he-whore, she may want some up top lip action too…

        Liked by 1 person

      • 👏👏 that just might save you, since it appears Superman is no longer an option 🤣 But if she still ends up finding a way to pound you too hard, you can always fall back on my offer to teach you how to cover up bruises 😂

        Liked by 2 people

      • The goggles should keep that one from happening again, dude 😂 but if it doesn’t, there’s probably stuff that can be done about it. During peak allergy season I managed to get my eyes from practically swollen shut to looking pretty damn normal by the time my makeup is done… Open lacerations are trickier and shouldn’t be covered with makeup but… There’s still probably something.

        Liked by 1 person

      • just pretend you got made up for zombieland or halloween and did not realise they meant make up not real injuries! could always play an extra on walking dead! lol

        Liked by 1 person

  2. You should buy some lip gloss and an American football kit! Did she have her wig on and were her teeth in a jar on the side! Was she sent out in a straight jacket…do you want ice for that lip! do you moonlight as a teenage giggalo in a man body! do i know you ?

    Liked by 1 person

    • I’m no gigolo, but I have been offered a job as one! 😂 I had to turn it down because I would have had to let a man go down on me and while I have nothing against it, it’s not my personal preference.


      • A man… is not a problem for me, i stayed in the habit that long I forgot how satisfying it was, masters through mind! I thought all men were still pretending they were gay (petrified of their mothers!) Less chatter my mind is so easily naughtily distracted! I would not want to accidentally telepath myself to show what i like for breakfast! Been playing maid for a few years. Then i sent my husband to staff, for assuming a position! professional raisers of children do not fill with warlocks and divide off…But have got an amazing temperanced personality, once god who has a wonderfully open view on life!

        Liked by 1 person

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