BTFW - Bluemenace's Ambitious Plan

[BlueMenace]

This was my ambitious plan to become the most successful internet ENF author in the world.

For ages I had been lacking where others had shined. My storytelling constantly falling apart because of gramrar errors and my plots making absolutely no sense, my characters being thin like paper and bland like ice cream with no flavor. For too long I had been laughed at and belittled by others and because of that from this day on my evil plans would be put straight into action. For, if my ambitious plans were to succeed I would then non debatably be left with the most realistic and believable stories that would beat the others with ease.

I had planned everything thoroughly and was sure about my upcoming victory that was approaching me, coming closer and closer as the time passed on. Just to think about it, Bluemenace, the greatest erotic author to ever have laid his feet on earth. That sounded sexy to me. And to think that was my future. Or at least I thought so.

My supreme plan was forcing women into ENF situations so I could watch and analyze them and then write stories about them while taking up even the slightest of details and particularities. This way my stories would be perfect. Absolutely perfect. It was quite simple really. Why would I try to paint a mountain without taking a model from one. Why would I try to learn chess without first watching others play. Of course I understood that the women I would be humiliating would suffer greatly from it but sacrifices had to be made.

But Blue, how could you force women into ENF situations? Wouldn't it be hard? Well let me answer your question dummy. As the upcoming greatest author in the world, I, of course, had prepared my internet conquest by getting a magical notebook in my hands. A notebook that would turn even my craziest fantasies into reality just so I could then just watch and learn. A notebook that would guarantee my success even though it was already more than certain.

My first victim was no other than my dear girlfriend, currently sitting comfy at our coach. Would I really be willing to take the risk and potentially threaten our long and prosperous relationship? With pleasure. Like I said before, sacrifices are needed in order to achieve success.

The notebook, in my hands, was opened and my pen with precise moves filled the upper half of the first page. It had now started. Suddenly the room was filled with people. People of different ages, color and backgrounds. All my girlfriend's relatives were there. Everyone she had ever known. Especially those she didn't like much.

For a second she looked around, her blue eyes filled with confusion but as she finally looked down the realization hit her like a million punches at the same time. She was there, naked like the day she had been born, completely unable to move, only being able to stay still as everyone stared at her. Some laughed, somewhere shocked, others embarrassed themselves. Only one thing was certain and it was that my girlfriend was the most embarrassed person in the room at that time.

Her red face, wanting to bury under the desert, just awkwardly smiled as people around her stared at her pussy and tits. I was furiously taking notes now. What did her pussy look like, what about her tits, what did the ray of light from the sun that reflected from the mirror's surface against her exposed body look like? Everything went exactly as I had planned. Nothing could stop me now.

Later that night I had now humiliated dozens of women, if not hundreds of them. My hands moved at the speed of light, page after page after page was filled with stories, descriptions and notes. I couldn't stop. Not even if I had wanted to. I had to write more. Everyday, every hour. If I didn't I started to get withdrawal symptoms. Severe withdrawal symptoms. Now more and more women were forced to more and more embarrassing occurrences as my creed and lust just grew and grew in size.

Soon there would be no woman under the sky that hadn't been stripped by me. Had this made me the biggest author that had laid his feet on earth? No. Even if my stories were now more realistic than life itself they didn't have anything to say. They were soulless, bland. Pages of text without any words. Paragraphs following each other without a glimpse of passion.

I had now become addicted to it. I couldn't stop. I didn't even want to stop. Now the only thing that was keeping me alive was the thrill of writing and stripping women. I had become more of a ghost than a person. A shadow. A monster.

As my final days passed and I left this world the memory I had left behind was nothing like I had though. I wasn't the greatest author. I was a mere nobody. Only a creep that had destroyed countless innocent lives for his own gains. After the last person that had even slightly remembered me finally died I had officially ceased to exist. Truly what a joke I had been...

[MissAriel]

Interesting entry. I'm curious if this story was inspired by the anime Death Note? It reminds me of Yagami Light and his selfishness as he used his notebook to change the world into his personal ideal. The main difference being that Light never quite had the self awareness to realize the damage he'd caused, but the author here seems to feel regret in their last moments.

Thank you for your entry! I am super inspired by everyone's unique responses to the contest.