This Forever Knight story is slash fan fiction. It contains horrible, poorly written, raunchy, explicit sexual situations between men that are not only improbable but perhaps physically impossible. It's okay. It's supposed to be very, very awfully and inhumanly bad. That was the point. But it's foul, so if you have a weak stomach (or mind) turn away now.
If you're underage or offended by such things, you have been warned not to read the fiction.


UF 7-Paragraph Bad Slash Challenge, in which the point was to write the very worst Forever Knight slash fiction possible in 7 paragraphs. WE ALL WON.
November 7, 2002

Love That Burns Forever And Ever And Melts Everything

by Innocent Pornwriter


"LaCroix, I can't hold back these feelings any longer. I want you to ride me like the stallion you are, or rather, I'd be the stallion wouldn't I, and you . . . you'd be the jockey. Only you're much, much too tall and heavy to be a jockey. But that's not to say you're fat, oh *merde*, but no, you're just stocky and masculine and--"

LaCroix smacked Nick across the face. "Snap out of it! You never talk like that, Nicholas. What's wrong with you?" He leered at his lusty son. "Now, drop trow and show me that impressive foreskin-clad tallywhacker of yours before I open up a can of whoop-ass . . . mon coeur."

Nicholas tore off all his clothing. He then ripped off LaCroix' black silk underwear with his teeth, which was quite a feat considering he hadn't removed LaCroix' slacks yet. This enraged the ivory-toned former-Roman-General-turned-vampire to such a degree, he grabbed Nicholas by his silken, golden, flaxen locks and twisted his head back at what looked to be a very uncomfortable angle.

"Oh, Nicholas, what you just did with my undergarments . . . that was momentarily the worst wedgie I've had in these 2000 years. Some day, you'll wear similar clothing, and I will give you a wedgie of equal intensity so you will feel the pain that I have felt. . . I *will* have retribution. Are we agreed?" he growled while snarling and looking very vicious.

"Oh, Master, pump into my puckered orifice, now, now! Your domineering tone makes my nether parts stiffen and quiver."

LaCroix bent his headstrong son over with one twist of the hair. They had anal intercourse, and they moaned and cried out to each other. Nick hummed Gloria Gaynor tunes until finally he cried out: "Oh, LaCroix, ejaculate! Let your man-juices flow freely!"

Their moans rose in pitch and intensity, until they reached orgasms so intense they both cried from sheer joy, then fainted.



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