A Time for Diner (Content of a sexual nature)


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  1. #1

    A Time for Diner (Content of a sexual nature)

    This is a short story (1,093) that I've been working on when I rested form other stories. My wife and a few friends. I neatened and smoothed it. Just looking for what you think. Good? Bad? What do I keep or change.





    TIME FOR DINER

    The new dinner, an old Routmaster with an open top, it’s sign:
    The Torch Wood Eatery: Where Time Holds Still
    “Well Mike, I never seen a dinner with that name, what do ya think,” said Jamie.
    “It’s got to be dedicated to that TV show. See how the windows look like call boxes. Let’s have a seat and I’ll buy us two coke floats,” Jamie replied.
    The menus they were given had three sections; past, present and chary.
    “Now what the heck does that mean,” Mike asked the man behind the counter, wearing an apricot scarf.
    They both looked at the joints menu.
    Mike looked at the waiter. “Sir, there is no food on the menu, just the names of people.”
    The waiter replied.
    “The names are the meal. It has to do with when you get your order. The Past is kind of an express delivery.”
    “Then what is chary,” said Jamie.
    “Those meals could be devastatingly disagreeable, depending on your palate. You eat the same food but experience more of the essence that was involved in its…creation, a much more spicy and hot meal.”
    “My names' Warren, you two ready to order?”
    “You order, Jamie, I'm still deciding.”
    “Okay, Warren, does the meal include drinks?”
    “The meal includes everything except desert. When your ready to eat, ring this bell, when you want desert, ring it again.”
    “So, The Past is a spicier meal?”
    “You bet.”
    “I'll have the Alphonse Francois, Past and chary.”
    “An excellent choice. Mike, are you ready to order?”

    “Yea, I'll get the Margarita Cansino, the Past and chary.”
    “It's so rewarding to see young men with great taste.”
    The two looked at each other, rang their bells and disappeared.


    Torch Wood Dinner: Jamie’s meal

    I appeared in a room, three young women, possibly teenagers, nude, save for an eye mask, each bound to a small couch, legs splayed open, crying. There was an older man, and a lady, also naked, having sexual relations with the girls. Is this a porno set?
    The man turned to me, spoke French, but I understood him.
    “Constance, your friend is awake. Please this middle one is for you. Select your pleasure.” He gestured at a table, were I saw whips, a lone large feather and various sanguine knives.
    “Alphonse made the chocolate glazed partridge himself and its excellent.”
    Where the hell am I?
    I’m wearing only a silk shirt. The chocolate sauce looks palatable, though my stomach is in flux. I force down a mouthful, followed by some wine. The pubescent caterwauling wins. My stomach’s spoiled contents, empty onto the floor, looking like pulped jute.
    “Come, she awaits your pleasure.”
    I take the feather.
    “She is but a girl.”
    “She’s bleed and is a woman,” said Constance.
    Alphonse is impatient with me.
    I run the feather up one side of her body, across her neck and down the other side.
    She quivers and gasps.
    I shiver as I realize…that was enjoyable!
    “Constance, he’s a natural, is it that I might learn from him?”
    The unreason of my actions is abhorrent. Yet they feel sown to my soul by a sewer.
    Alphonse and Constance pleasure themselves with their objects. Mine speaks.
    “Upon the ramparts of your eyes I see your good nature. Allow me to pleasure you as is natural for a woman.”
    The servants yell, “The Committee. Robespierre!”
    “You’re under arrest Marquis.”
    He frees each girl, mine whispers to him.
    “Take the Marquis and Constance to the Bastille, you good sir, may have desert.”
    I ring my bell.
    “Well done, young man, you ate like it was the eve of the battle of Hastings.”
    “I did, I guess.”
    “You emptied your plate, the chocolate glazed Partridge, white chocolate and garlic covered Brussel sprouts and brown sugar glazed sweat potatoes. The speed, at which you ate, dwarfed most.”
    “I ate all that?”
    “Yeah and I heard your bell, ready for dessert? It’s Chocolate Trifle.”
    “Sure.”
    “Yes sir.”
    A large feather is dropped in front of me.
    “I believe you dropped this.”
    “You were in my dream. But how…”
    “Rather ostentatious, dreaming of me. I’m Anne Prospere and we have plans.”





    Torch Wood Dinner: Mike’s Meal

    I’m in a suite, at least forty people here. All are richly dressed. One of the best looking women I’d ever seen is shaking my arm.
    “Dear, come with me. I’ll introduce you.”
    She’s wearing a partial see through dress, sequins splayed throughout. This lady is very familiar. She brings me to a separate table.
    “Aly, this is the man who named that drink for my lonesome self. Dear, this is my fiancé, Prince Aly Khan. This lady with the least sanguine eyes, which are undressing you, is Pamela Harriman.”
    “Please, call me Pamela. Would you name a drink after me?”
    My thoughts are in flux, what should I say?
    “Pamela, I’ve just met you. I need to spend some time with you first.”
    “Prince Aly, Rita’s friend and I are going for a walk on the beach, to enjoy the moon.”
    She grabs a jute wrapped champagne bottle, entwining her arm in mine, while we walk.
    This rich lovely lady spoiled me for an hour. Back at the party, I make her that drink.
    “Your drink Pamela is called Sex on the Beach.”
    They all clapped and wanted one.

    We danced, drank, walked and talked. Then we visited the beach and a bedroom. The servers brought us foods whose names I couldn’t pronounce. I was Charles Brandon and Pamela, my Mary Tudor, standing on the castle’s ramparts after our wedding.
    “Tell me my dearest, who are you? When we toasted the king, you said ‘long may she reign.’
    “A slip of the tongue, brought on by excessive Champaign.”
    “Your tongue never slipped earlier, dearest.”
    “Nor yours or your attentions,” I hand her a bell.
    “The unreason of my leaving, please dearest, ring my bell, one last time.”
    She did, I left.
    “So, what did you think of the food?”
    “Uh? Oh, I guess I was pretty good, what did I eat?”
    “Your diner was Shrimp & Lobster Bisque, Mince Meat Pie with Escargot and Tomato, Cucumber and Scallion salad.”
    “I must have dreamed or gone to the restroom.”
    “You never left your seat dessert will be brought right away.”
    “Here’s your Champaign Syllabub, and your ostentatious dwarf silver bell.”
    I look up at the familiar voice.
    “Pamela! How?”
    “I was eating at the other counter. You left very quickly. Tonight is Whitt Monday’s Eve and you’ve still a bell I’ve yet to ring.”
    "Illegitimi non carborundum " Vinegar' Joe Stilwell

    "Faith is taking the first step, even when you don't see the whole staircase." Martin Luther King Jr.

    What you learn in life is important, those you help learn, are more important.

    "They can because they think they can."
    ​Virgil

    "Wise men speak because they have something to say; Fools will speak to say something." Plato

    "The only difference between reality and fiction is that fiction needs to be credible."
    ​ Mark Twain

    "To those of you who received honors, awards and distinctions, I say well done. And to the C students, I say you, too, can be president of the United States." George W. Bush



  2. #2
    Good story. It has some plot twists and turns and was very easy to read. The idea works. Good execution. Enjoyed the plot and imagine only where it goes. BTW just to be safe you might want to include a language disclaimer.
    Last edited by Theglasshouse; January 14th, 2018 at 04:01 PM.
    I would follow as in believe in the words of good moral leaders. Rather than the beliefs of oneself.
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  3. #3
    WF Veteran H.Brown's Avatar
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    Hello,

    As TGH has pointed out this is a good start you draw the reader in and keep their attention with the dialogue, however you do not state much about the setting or who these people are. Why should we care about them at all or about their conversation? Also the layout of the story does need some work as it is confusing to reader, to me each line read as though it was unfinished.

    There are also some spelling issues such as 'partial' should be partially see through...

    Take care not to list what your characters are doing/feeling but try for a smooth retelling of events as this will help to keep the reader entertained. For example here: '...I’m wearing only a silk shirt. The chocolate sauce looks palatable, though my stomach is in flux. I force down a mouthful, followed by some wine...' It could be:

    Where the hell am I, wearing only a thin silk shirt? I thought, glancing at the chocolate glazed partridge I tried to swallow. The chocolate sauce looked palatable, even if my stomach was in flux. Forcing down a sticky spoonful that coats my tongue and throat, my gaze is drawn back to the implements. Swallowing a mouthful of wine to clear it, the pubescent caterwauling intrudes and my stomach spills its contents on the floor in a mess of pulped jute...

    I hope that these comments help.
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  4. #4
    Thanks Glasshouse and H. Brown for your comments. The layout probably comes from my only doing a few words here and there, okay 50, 100, 70, 200, then a brief edit. Never any consistent writing on this, just filler time. I was only worried about the skeleton. Since you both like what my skeleton, I can now add the rest of the stuff to it. Yes, your comments do help very much, thanks.

    Oh, thanks for the warning edit, I totally forgot about it.

    I am a history major so I used that in the story. Alphonse Francois is better known as The Marquis de Sade.

    Margarita Cansino is the birth name of Rita Hayworth.
    "Illegitimi non carborundum " Vinegar' Joe Stilwell

    "Faith is taking the first step, even when you don't see the whole staircase." Martin Luther King Jr.

    What you learn in life is important, those you help learn, are more important.

    "They can because they think they can."
    ​Virgil

    "Wise men speak because they have something to say; Fools will speak to say something." Plato

    "The only difference between reality and fiction is that fiction needs to be credible."
    ​ Mark Twain

    "To those of you who received honors, awards and distinctions, I say well done. And to the C students, I say you, too, can be president of the United States." George W. Bush



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