Forum Story about Pheromones (limit 5 sentences per post)

[TheAttractor]

After seeing the three-word story, it inspired me to start this one. Let's all write a

story where the characters use pheromones from this site, and different events unfold as a result. Here are the

guidelines, similar to the three-word thread.

1. Anyone can contribute.
2. There is a limit of five (5)

sentences per post, with the exception of the first one, where ground rules and the story is laid out.
3. Posts

need to have good grammar, spelling, and punctuation (doesn't have to read like a college paper, but can't be like

MySpace either), and sentences must be a reasonable length.
4. The same person is NOT allowed to make two

consecutive posts in a row.
5. The post being added must have some semblance of a coherent flow with the story in

the most recent post.
6. Keep it up for as long as your creativity allows.

And, without further ado, on with the

story.



It was a dark and hectic night. Four men were sitting around a house, playing cards. Suddenly,

lights went out, and there was a loud scream outside. When the lights came back on, one man ran to the front door

to check things out. He saw a woman lying on the front step and fearfully touching her neck with her fingers. There

was a long trail of footprints on the snow, extending from the front step to the forest past the yard. It appeared

to go farther into the forest, but actually ended at the property line.

[idesign]

Judging from the woman's DIHL

and the yellow steam rising from the snowy footsteps, she was obviously the victim of a vicious NPA assault. Even

Joey No-Nostrils - so named because doctors had sewn his nostrils shut after failing cocaine treatment - was not

oblivious to the acrid sharpness hovering in the air. "Lets look around" said one of the guys, obviously a

go-getter. "Good idea" said another, who was always sucking up to the first guy.

Just then they all suddenly and

simultaneously noticed

[Rbt]

her BMW parked nearby, door

ajar,
her USB flash drive on the ground beside her,
her "L-S Rocks!" pin glistening in her lapel,
her DKNY

sweater wet with sweat (or was it something else?),
and her AMA membership card clutched in her hand





(okay I made it 5 lines not sentences... but it's neen a long day)

[TheAttractor]

Igancio, the man who went

outside first, leaned over the woman and said: "I'm certified to give first aid. Now, what's the last thing you

remember happening?" The woman didn't answer him, just gazed with a strange combination of disorientation and lust

in her eyes. "It's NPA, all right", Ignacio mumbled. Then he turn to Karl (the go-getter), and blurted out: "go

check the car!"

[Rbt]

Karl cautiously approached the BMW,

noting, again, that the passenger side door, which was facing him, was slightly ajar.

What struck him as odd

was there were no footprints around the car anywhere that he could see.

Could it be that there was someone

still inside?

Glancing toward the rear of the vehicle, Karl could see fresh tire tracks, but they seemed to

mysteriously fade away rather quickly, almost as if the car was dropped and it rolled forward to where it now sat.



Suddenly Karl stopped in his tracks, startled by an odd scratching noise that seemed to be eminating from the rear

of the car...

[TheAttractor]

While Karl was fiddling

around with the car, Joey went to investigate the footprints. They formed a clean, straight line from the front

step and just stopped right where the yard ended and a dense forest began. "Whoever hurt that woman must have run

off into the forest", Joey thought, "but why aren't there any footprints there?" He looked up, and saw that some

of the trees didn't have as much snow on them as the rest. Suddenly, he heard Karl yell: "hey Joey, get a load of

this!"

[idesign]

Joey turned, and just as he was

about to run over to Karl a giant hook grabbed his waistband from behind and lifted him into the air like a huge

mechanical wedgie. As he was being dragged up the side of a tree he wheezed "Hwweerrllp!" All eyes were on Joey as

he was swung around at the end of an unseen tether and plopped down on top of Karl like a pork belly on a slow

trader just before the bell.

"Well, that explains how the car got here, sort of" said Karl, "thanks for coming

so fast". "Not at all" puffed Joey, who was holding himself in a non-sexual way for the first time, ever.

[Rbt]

Ignacio, who had been busily tending

to the strange woman and hadn't been aware of the sudden turn of events looked up to see Joey and Karl heaped in a

pile near the BMW.

"Hey! you guys," he barked, quit gettin jiggy! There's time for that later!"

As Karl and

Joey began to untangle themselves from each other, while keeping out a wary eye for that unexpected hook, Ignacio

returned to checking the condition of the unknown woman.

As he looked over the DNKY sweater, he suddenly

realized that he couldn't see any clothes on the lower part of her body... he hesitated, but in the interest of

making certain of her condition, decided to slowly, carefully, and cautiously, lift the bottom of the wet sweater

and peered underneath.

"Holy Cow!" he exclained, "Hello Kitty panties!"

[TheAttractor]

But then Ignacio realized

that the task at hand was to find out what happened to the woman. He called Tom (the guy who sucked up) and said:

"Can you bring me some A1 and SOE from storage; those will make her more willing to talk to us." When Tom came back

with the pheromones, Ignacio sprayed them toward the woman's face. She coughed a little, and blinked rapidly.

"What's your name, and what's the last thing you remember happening to you?", the men asked her.

(side comment:

this story is turning out pretty nicely so far, let's keep it going)

[idesign]

[blink blink blink] "Well,

there was this guy, you know, and like, he was like just this guy. Soooo I thought he was kinda cute so I talked to

him and he was like pretty cool and I gave him my number and he called me like 5 minutes later and then we met coz I

was like at the next table and then we texted each other some really hot, like, you know, conversation and I was

getting rilly hot but like this guy was a stranguurr, you know? Then he said something like "you wanna get down at

the end of a big crane?" and I was like sooooo wanting something bigger than my last b/f and followed him out to his

equipment, at least that's what he called this thing. To me it looked like a big truck with a thingy on top, but

he promised that I would be happy forever if I just climbed in and smelled his neck, so I did"

[TheAttractor]

The woman continued,

rambling in the process: "Well, he convinced me to get into his truck-looking vehicle, it smelled like sandalwood

inside, so good, you know. He started telling me about this club called Pharaoh Moan, he said 'it's filled with

aromas that makes you feel divine'; maybe it's got contraptions that pump scents into the air. Then he put his

arm around me, and pressed me against him, so my nose rested against his neck, then I felt a convulsion of some

sort, and everything went black, and next thing I knew, I'm here talking to you guys." "Wow!", Ignacio answered,

he was speechless. Then he asked Tom to keep an eye on the woman, and ran outside to speak to Joey, who heard about

Pharaoh Moan from other people while undergoing drug rehabilitation.

[idesign]

Freshly stitched and very

uncomfortable, Joey made a beeline to club Pharaoh Moan the very day he was released from treatment with the worst

grade ever recorded at that particular facility. The fact that he narrowly escaped sexual harassment charges while

a resident there can probably be attributed to his well connected family who, despite their judicial pull, were

unable to prevent Joey's olfactory closure. Indeed, according to one unnamed source, the presiding judge was heard

to say privately in chambers that he'd personally "sew that pervert's pecker to his belly button if I wasn't up

for re-election".

Joey had placed himself locally in a special class of individuals who, with good reason, were

best viewed from afar. Providence placed him at the bar of the Pharoah Moan club beside the secretive yet

gregarious crane owner/operator W.T.Fuch.

[idesign]

well storytellers?

[idesign]

After a half dozen tequila lime

freezes, along with breathing a steady atmosphere of Chikara being pumped from well placed atomizers, Joey hooted

like a deranged owl when he read his new friend's business card; "Need some Big Equipment? Call me, WTF."

On

the night of the accident he fleetingly made a mental connection as he was being hoisted into the air, just as

Ignacio fleetingly remembered the pair of Hello Kitty panties missing from his collection. Karl (spelled with a K)

was not making any connections at all but was damned determined to get to the bottom of this. Tom, ever the helpful

soul, came out of the house with brandy and a thermos of coffee.

[idesign]

Karl (spelled with a K)

untangled himself from Joey at the back of the BMW, thinking "I have no time for this", even though his private

entanglements with Joey he had found quite satisfactory. Tom poured him a brandy and asked "what's up with

Ignacio?". Karl (spelled with a K) looked over and observed Ignatio observing the woman's crotch at close range,

his face a resemblance to the "Soul's Awakening". Joey, observing Ignatio, then observing Karl observing Ignatio,

scurried to hide under the rear of the car just where the scratching noise was emanating.

[idesign]

"O what a tangled web we weave,

when first we practice to deceive" or, in Joey's case, outright theft. Poker night at Ignatio's was a special

treat for Joey, not for for the game or comraderie with similarly dysfunctional members of the community, but for

the long bathroom breaks during which he would sneak into the bedroom and rifle Ignatio's panty collection. The

"Hello Kitty" caper, weeks before, was not planned, but rather a reaction to a noise at the bedroom door after which

the panties made a beeline from Joey's nose to his pocket in under a second.

Later that night, in the mellow

glow of sublime afterburn, he had told a woman (who's name escaped him, like so many names) that he had bought them

for her in the hope that it would display his true feelings for her, which she could not quite process after

breathing half a dozen pheromones in half that many hours.

His hands around the tailpipe (of the BMW), Joey

pondered these things, and pondered the atomizer which he had installed in the woman's car which was making that

awful scratching sound, and was wondering how he would extricate himself from the impending fury which was sure to

follow.

[idesign]

If fate is the playground of the

gods, then Joey must certainly be one of their favorite toys. Joey was thinking this, though in not such

philosophical terms, as his thoughts usually ran along the lines of self preservation. Not only had he stolen

Ignatio's panties, but he'd given them to Tom's new girlfriend who, in fit of NPA induced wanton behavior, agreed

to a private game of ring toss after a particularly fun night at the PM club.

Tom, who until now was focused upon

making the strange evening more pleasant for everyone, had not yet observed the crime scene in any detail, or the

woman who's splayed legs were being manipulated by Ignatio in the hope that a definitive identification of her

panties could be made.

Karl (yes yes yes, K) began to fume, Joey wept as his fist had no effect on the atomizer,

and Tom, finally, began to absorb the unique qualities of the scene.

[idesign]

In any group of friends -

particularly such as we find here - there is an anchor; a member who's personal qualities are less likely to raise

the hair on the back of necks and who provide social legitimacy at critical moments, such as when entering a bar.

Tom, the very last of the Truly Nice Guys, starred in this role with Biblical patience but not (we should hasten to

add) without a somewhat guilty eye toward the social ladder upon who's bottom rung he clung with increasing

weariness.

Having drawn too late the bead on Joey, Ignacio and Karl, he maintained his presence in the group with

a hair trigger on his better sensibilities, and had placed no small amount of hope on a woman he met the PM

club.

Different from the other girls he had met there, she exuded a soft sensuality that spoke in the warm tones

of cozy weekends tucked in a cabin far away from the PherHotel, that tawdry excrescence directly adjacent to the PM

club, where hormone-crazed "Moners" gathered after hours to practice their art.

As the full scene of the evening

exploded suddenly in his brain, he uncorked the bottle of Cognac and pulled hard on its magical properties.

[idesign]

Francine's unique manipulation

of the English language notwithstanding, she was a girl who understood many things, mostly on an intuitive level,

and was known to have the capability to put men on notice if her lines were crossed. But her heart was intact, and

those who invested the time necessary to cross the divide were rewarded with many times the dues paid to enter her

world, where peace reigned overall and sensual bliss was but the work of a free afternoon, or morning, or lunch

break in the Lingerie fitting room at Nordstrom's where Tom worked. They were an imaginative pair, and costume

changes only heightened Tom's awareness that all things worthwhile came wrapped in red.

[idesign]

A life of privilege and

prettiness did not prepare Francine for the soft emotions she felt toward Tom, nor the emotional maturity to deal

with a flood of pheromones entering her brain via Joey's Auto-Atomizer II, nor the industrial pumps at the PM Club

which fed its guests with a pheromonal atmosphere which a politician would call either criminal or divine, depending

on who was in the room. And to say that Francine was unprepared to deal with the likes of Joey is like saying a

Marineland blonde is unprepared to be eaten by a Killer Whale. The odds are against it, but eventually its going to

happen; nature has its rules.

Tom had lit upon a lovely and meaningful aspect of his future life while Joey

calculated the optimum use of "Hello Kitty" panties.

[idesign]

Joey finally succeeded in

ripping the Auto-Atomizer II from Francine's car just as Karl (K), in a barely controlled fit of organizational

angst, pulled him by the ankles from beneath the car, atomizer and all. Karl's limited mental capacity, coupled

with his failing grade in "Survey of Phero-Technical Apparatus" and his complete incoherence of Joey's radical

social model, rendered him speechless.

Also speechless were Tom and Ignacio, but for different reasons.



Tom, hoping beyond the possibility of hope that the woman laying prostrate on the pavement was any other than

his beloved Francine, staggered toward her as he drank steadily from France's best effort toward peace in the

world.

Losing his now apprehensive balance, Tom bumped Ignacio from the rear, causing Ignacio to plant his face

directly onto the waiting, and still somewhat wanting, mouth of Hello Kitty.

[idesign]

Karl is not the type of person

to remain speechless for any length of time and, as with most people who are prematurely and punitively toilet

trained, succumbs easily to aggression when faced with confusing events. Karl did remain speechless precisely long

enough to kick Joey violently as a matter of course.

Joey, not unused to violence upon himself winced, curled

and cradled the Auto-Atomizer II as it continued to scratch and spew its clever mix of attractants into the local

atmosphere, its largest exhaust tube pointing in the direction of Francine, Tom and Ignacio.

After tripping

over Ignacio, Tom fell onto the pavement directly beside Francine just as she gasped at Ignacio's unintentional

"Kitty" dive. While gasping, she breathed an uncontrolled dose of Joey's mix which pumped steadily toward her then

grabbed the bottle of Cognac from Tom's trembling hands. The upturned bottle at her lips and her eyes rolled back

into her head, she wrapped her legs around Ignacio's head and groped Tom with her only free hand.

[idesign]

In the course of human development there are times at which, usually in retrospect, one can pinpoint precisely when a corner is turned and life presents itself afresh, through a different lens as it were, and old thoughts become the flotsam and jetsam of a new awareness. Tom was now - not unpleasantly - experiencing one of those rare moments when he understood both the immediate pleasure of Francine's liberality and the impact that its public nature may have on his future sexual life, and he was not unhappy.

Joey, always one to appreciate a free exhibition, held his gaze on the scene in his peculiarly pornographic way as Karl, succumbing to years of confused sexual repression leaped upon the mixture of Tom, Ignacio and Francine, not caring who he landed upon.

The police arrived at a quarter to five, and immediately drew the reigns on this runaway stagecoach as WT Fuchs laughed hysterically from the cab of his new WTF-5 model crane, vowing that pheromones is his life, and the heavy lifting is yet to be done.