Monday, August 31, 2015

A Woman named Sally, part 1

Introductory note: Sorry folks, I didn't want to rush part 5 as it has not met my muscly standards, so instead I bring you something from the Dieselarchives, A woman named Sally. Sorry for the interruption, rest assured there will be a continuation of the saucy adventures! Until then, let this piece tide you over for now.

Frank Funburthers sat around staring at the cucumber dish in front of him, and knew he needed a woman. A woman named Sally. Suddenly a woman walked into his room wearing an umbrella.

Photo taken by 55Laney69. Apologies that it is not duck patterned.

"I'm Sally," she announced to the room, letting all know that she was Sally, and since this is third person omnipotent you can rest assured she isn't lying.

The metal ribs of the umbrella clung to her voluptuously thin form, making marks in her skin, the flimsy clear plastic and duck patterned plastic hiding everything and nothing at all. It clung alluringly to her 34JJ breasts made all the larger by her parking meter thin waist, Her head popped out the top where the cheap aluminum spike would probably have been in the normal world, but not this one. 

Wednesday, August 26, 2015

Frank Dieselwang in SO SOUS ME! Part 4

This is not the actual recipe, but a tribute to the recipe presented in this story. Original photo by jmcar.
“Oh yeah, give it to me,” Frank attempted to say, which was difficult given the massive length of sausage stuffed into his throat by a very eager Taeryn. So it came out more like “ommm gyah, gibmehtemuuurrr” which was pretty good considering the circumstances of physical difficulty he was overcoming.

“You know, people say it’s the best sauce in town,” she said saucily, as the camera (but not Frank's eyes because he is a gentleman) panned down her feminine form again, displaying her heaving bosom, shining lightly from her sweat from her exertions in the kitchen, her smallish waist, but not too small, as she was a grilling expert who spent a lot of time standing up, but also needed to sample things and be strong, and then her big butt, which the author recognizes as something that’s appealing in the current tastes of many male readers, due to songs about the preferences of certain serpentine creatures unless various baked goods are in a woman’s possession at the time of observation.

Monday, August 24, 2015

So Sous Me, Part 3

Original Photo taken by Henry M. Diaz

To describe her sauce, imagine this reader, taking a bag of rusty nails, broken glass, the leftover residue of fifty fifty year old toothpaste tubes and the grease of your local public transit if you have one. Put that into a blender that can liquify anything, including broken class, leftover toothpaste tubes, and a bag of rusty nails, and the grease found on local public transit.

It was the exact opposite of that. Except that it was liquid, it was not opposite that way. Basically it was the opposite of torture, which is pretty good I think.

Wait, that’s a really lazy literary convention, scratch that, unless it really worked for you, in which case you could probably skip this next paragraph.

For Taeryn, making a sauce wasn’t just cooking, which it was, but it was also a way of life. From the ketchup she lovingly made tomatoes she lovingly handpicked and hand grown and the onions lovingly hand cooked, literally in the palm of her hands with a greasing of olive oil, after a strong workout. And then Frank was able to swallow it all down off of a well muscled, lean, strong, sausage.

It went down like this. Frank was hungry one day, after working on the railroad system of Polesbumpkitkisstown, and the sweat was pouring down his perfectly formed pectorals and abdominals in figurative rivers, because literal rivers would dehydrate even a prime figure of man that was Frank Dieselwang. Nonetheless, he needed to eat, so he went to the local hole in the wall barbecue restaurant that most people hold up to be the best places to eat and in this case it actually bore out.

Bustling with the hum of a village worth of farmers, farm supply owners, and a village’s relevant amount of pharmaceutical salespeople who were the sons and daughters of said farmers and farm supply owners who happened to be in town to show their grudging love for their parents by coming in town for the railroad renovation/annual state fair which they grudgingly enjoyed to some degree and fondness for the kettle corn, which was a lot better than most pharmaceutical salespeople who never returned home ever because they were ingrates who didn’t care about their parents and maybe called home now and then, but probably not.

Here, at the hole in the wall, lovingly torn open by Taeryn Yewanewon’s late father, grill master Ripin Yewanewon, Taeryn was sweating aplenty as she bustled about, sweat rolling from forehead, down her neck, and then into her cleavage in the classic male gaze pan shot for the sake of the reader, but Frank simply found his seat and waited to be served, and if he looked at her he kept his eyes at approximately her eye level when he did happen to be looking in her direction.

Skipping all the charming details of waitstaff and such, Frank eventually found himself presented with a big person sized (formerly gendered as man sized prior to Taeryn’s managership due to her father’s well meaning but outmoded way of thought) sized portion of burnt ends, brisket, and a huge sausage to rival any he had ever seen before, all liberally coated with a glaze of Taeryn’s special sauce. 

Frank groaned with approval as she forced open his mouthhatch (figuratively and with his consent) and stuffed her enormous sausage into it. His eyes bulged with pleasure of the pleasurable feeling of the meat entering his mouth, as well as that indescribable taste of her enormous encased meat. A small cut made at the top of the sausage started to give way the more he tasted it, revealing an even more strong meat flavor.

It was the best sausage Frank had had in his life, and whenever someone asked him what his best sausage experience was from that day onward, it would be the one that Taeryn Yewanewon gave him.

To be continued.

Wednesday, August 19, 2015

Frank Dieselwang in So Sous Me! Part 2

Picture originally taken by Steven Depolo

Frank nodded masculinely, manfully agreeing with a grunt with the woman because he was secure in his sexuality while taking orders from a woman who was an expert on sausages on how to handle her sausages. And anyone who chose to say otherwise would be handled in a mature fashion, and he would not escalate it to violence unless it was in self defense, because that’s the right thing to do.

“Just to be sure though, I won’t let this go to waste.” Taeryn said, pulling her hair back with a delicate pull of her feminine hand, toughened and rough from her tough woman barbecue master chores, hauling around her kit, chopping her own hickory fuel, and enduring the dusky heat of the pit. This hair being pulled back like a dramatic curtain, framed the living art that was her face, a smooth angular jaw, piercing blood sienna eyes and a slightly upturned nose on her face. The kind of face that made men reach into the deep recesses of their mind for a pick up line that was not written jokingly for an early 2000s website compilation of bad pick up lines.

For Frank, her pretty face was just a bonus, as he was stirred by her spirit and barbecue sauce which was #1 absolute prizewinner material, and the fact that he was commissioned by the spirit of the townfolk of Polesbumpkitkisstown to help her out, as she had never won the barbecue sauce competition before in her 5 years of competition due to the nefarious politicking and backdoor politics of the county formerly known ad Polesbumpkitkisscounty, now known Pharmdarkistcorp, LLC.

It all started to go wrong those many many years (four) ago, which is a suitable way to start a flashback, back in the distant 2011, when the local ordinance of echoing Citizens United, BarbeCuerporations United went into effect, and dictated that corporations were Grilling Sauce Judges too, along with most other grilling, barbecuing, and for some reason industrial fencing.

Just her luck that it was in 2011 that her pappy finally passed on the grill sauce competition duties to her, when all of these cards fell on the table. Lead cards, also comprised of a proprietary amalgamation of tears, sadness, and corruption.

Since then, it was a tank rolled rogues parade of travesties of justice, the most memorable one being what was known as the Exxon Mobil Oil Spill Disaster of BBQ Grill Sauce Judging history, when local oil tycoon’s nephew Chester P. Douglasrailroad won in 2013 because the taste and quality of his sauce most closely mimicked the secret annual theme of “oil,” in both taste and quality.

That and the fact that he just brought along one blue barrel of Texas Crude his uncle had given him, for the purpose of sharing not only it’s ability to drive the petrochemical industrial complex, but also its alternative uses, including hair styling, hiding the bodies of corporate spies, and yes, barbecue sauce.

Frank was but a simple man, an American man, who also happened to be extraordinarily gifted in physical health, keen intellect, and a clear deep brutal self introspection of his position in world as well as having a pretty good grasp of his own privilege and what to do with it, but always knew there was room for improvement. And he would put all of himself against that machine of cronyism, including his perfect abs, steel pipe like arms and legs, and extremely dense skeletal structure as leverage to help Taeryn Yewanewon get to her rightful place as #1 prizewinner.


Monday, August 17, 2015

Frank Dieselwang in.... So Sous Me! Part 1

It wasn’t often that Frank found himself pressed into service, working his sausage under the strict instructions of a powerfully determined Southern woman, but since he was very much in touch with social justice and a feminist he did not mind taking these orders, and she was the boss today.

“Ohhh yeah, just like that, get it nice and slick, gee howdy whillikers,” growled Taeyrn Yewanewon as Frank ran his hands over his long thick Kielbasa. 

Frank labored in front of Tara, precisely running his hands over the engorged meat of his personal Kielbasa, the meat almost pulsing underneath the skin. 

With his left hand securely holding it erect, and an expert flick and swish of his right wrist, he basted his sausage with a generous coating of lubricating sauce before holding it to Taeryn’s mouth with pride and perhaps a bit of trepidation.

Taeryn opened her mouth  with the shape of a circle, which is an O, gasping at the size of it, and took it into her mouth, moaning at the taste briefly, before biting into it with a crisp snap.

“Not a bad Kielbasa, golly Jim brick wallies, but I think you stuffed your Kielbasa a bit too generously, we’re gonna need a better balanced piece of encased meat if you’re gonna be my sous in the Big Jim Bob Joey’s Mega Meat Mountain Competition.”

Taken by Steven Depolo, borrowed under creative commons license.

Wednesday, August 12, 2015

Frank Dieselwang vs. Dr. Knotty - Part 3 - ALL NSFW Climax!

rope swing by Nate Steiner
Warning! This is entirely NSFW, and perhaps my third time ever writing erotica for a larger viewing audience!

Click here if you accept and want to read!

Thanks for visiting and stay tuned for the rest of the adventures of THE CHRONICLES OF FRANK DIESELWANG!

Monday, August 10, 2015

Frank Dieselwang vs. Dr. Knotty - Part 2!

Regina looked at the Bondageagogo with some debatably plot driven but very understandable trepidation in slight quantities, not because she was a woman showing vulnerability to appeal to the audience but because it was a freaking ten-foot-tall self-propelled rope monster. Then she remembered she had just rescued the most manly of men, who put the “men” in specimen, Frank Dieselwang, and gave him that cool nod people can do with their chins. “You got this?” her chin seemed to imply?

Frank nodded in a manly way, as though to say, “Yeah I totally got this,” in a non-verbal reply, as evidenced by the manliness of his slightly cleft chin that was indicative of manliness based on the author's experience with American media. With great derring-do and a clever plot twist, Frank Dieselwang curled his arm like something curly and straightened it, delivering a punch into the rope monster, propelling the rope monster into Dr. Knotty, which neatly TIED UP the story, demonstrating the author’s complete willingness to pick the lowest of low hanging fruit.

Unconscious, the rope monster reflexively tied itself up around Dr. Knotty’s prone form, which would tie up any plotholes of Dr. Knotty waking up and ruining the rest of this story.

NSFW WARNING: SEXUAL THEMES AHEAD, by clicking you accept that you are of the right mind and maturity to see my attempt at writing sexual themes.

 Click here if you accept the warning!

Wednesday, August 5, 2015

Frank Dieselwang Vs. Dr. Knotty - Part 1

Source: Tied up in Knots by Mary Anne Enriquez
Frank Dieselwang’s 18-pack glistened with sweat due the sweat causing weather in the hot heat of the sun. He was fit, to be tied. Because he was fit, and tied. His scrumptious form of man meat was most peculiarly specimentastic because he could not be constrained, yet there is a certain convoluted conflict presented in this story because he was in fact constrained, because of the bonds tied around that hot, muscular body of his.

The other parts of his body glistened as well, for the sake of consistency.

“You’ll never get away with this, Doctor Naughty!” said Frank Dieselwang to his captor.

“It’s Dr. Knotty, you fool!” screeched Dr. Knotty, who somehow was able to tell that Frank was punning his name with a homophone of his chosen nomenclature.

Dr. Knotty whipped his whip in a whip-like manner, menacing Frank Dieselwang with it. “You are going to get it in an extremely convoluted manner. Dr. Knotty paused for dramatic effect, because that is important for pacing. “And by ‘it,’ I mean death.” Dr. Knotty cackled with glee and whipped his whip some more for emphasis, with possibly phallic connotations depending on who is critiquing this piece of fiction, and how much research they have done on the author’s life, if they are trying to do it from a New Critical or historical frame of mind.

Frank flexed his pectorals, abs, triceps, quadriceps, and quinticeps in a sudden rage and explosive display of power because the author felt the need to move the plot along.
Causing the bonds to snap! Exclamation points for empha!s!s!!!


Wait no, that’s a bit too sudden. They almost snapped, but just barely didn’t snap because of the need for dramatic pause and suspense, as well as the author realizing there was a trope to be overturned here.

With a strong and womanly cry, Regina Fortisovum, burst through the window that is inexplicably not reinforced given Dr. Knotty’s usual overpreparation and penchant for security, and yelled. “Did someone ask for a rescue that is for once not a damsel in distress? Seriously, that gets old, dudes.”

With that she threw with expert precision a razor sharp makeup compact (that betrayed the author’s poorly thought out attempt to be inclusive and show women can be strong but still relied on female oriented knickknacks and imagery) into the last few threads of rope that barely contained Frank’s condition of being tied up.

Suddenly freed from their confinement, Frank’s hard nipples announced their presence with a hard thumbs up, which is a metaphor for how hard his nipples were in that they were erect, kind of like thumbs.

His pectorals started to sway up and down for really no reason other than the titillation of the reader if the reader is into that sort of things, and then he flexed, the cuts of his muscles and abdominals which were so defined they could apply for an unpaid internship at the Oxford English Dictionary factory.

Suddenly beset by the two heroes, Dr. Knotty unleashed the Bondageagogo, his rope golem!

Bondageagogo, which has no relationship to and is definitely not a direct reference to the show that takes place at the Kat Club in San Francisco on Wednesdays (that’s 1190 Folsom if you were curious), stirred himself to attention, the many ropes that comprised its appendages that totally obeyed the laws of physics and basic engineering principles advanced upon Frank Dieselwang and Regina in what would surely lead to a pitched battle that the heroes would only barely overcome through derring-do and a clever plot twist….


Saturday, August 1, 2015

Teaser - Frank Dieselwang vs. Dr. Knotty

Frank Dieselwang’s 18-pack glistened with sweat due the sweat causing weather in the hot heat of the sun. He was fit, to be tied. Because he was fit, and tied. His scrumptious form of man meat was most peculiarly specimentastic because he could not be constrained, yet there is a certain convoluted conflict presented in this story because he was in fact constrained, because of the bonds tied around that hot, muscular body of his.