"Anal Retentive "Hey! I just found a use for that story." I'm laughing as I stick my head part way up my current lover's cunt. "What's that?" She speaks in a bored tone. "Aren't you doing anything yet? I had the impression from your posts that your head would be big enough so I'd at least feel *something* when you inserted it. I've had more feeling from popping a zit on my cuntlips." "Yeah, well, your cunt's the only part of you that's bigger than *your* head. I can't help it if you always stick your head up your ass and miss." Hell, what am I going to do? I certainly don't have a penis big enough to do more than feel inadequate about it. I thought my swollen head would work but this bitch is beyond anything I've ever seen. "Try this." I grab the printouts of our latest posts, roll them up - and insert them. Just as I thought, the whole huge roll is stretching her a bit. "Unnggh!" What the hell did you do?" She's actually writhing in ecstasy. "Simple, bitch. I stuffed a roll of our posts up that cavern of yours." "Feeding off our own egos. I like it." She's spasming and the paper is getting soggy. "Yeah. You're a lousy fuck and I ain't got shit for a tool but at least we have our minds." "So who we gonna rape next?" My question is casual but it has the desired effect. She arches her back and screams as her orgasm intensifies. That's the wonderful part of having egos big enough to think our opinions are important. We don't need physical sex to get off. The orgasms *we* have are much more intense and longer lasting than any *mere* physical grunts and groans. She's gasping for breath. "Hell, I don't know. Lots of new folks to choose from. The old timers are getting too savvy about things and not giving us what we want. How the hell can you deflate egos big enough to swallow us up and spit us out?" "Yeah. The more we hammer them, the better they get. No fun when they keep improving instead of ignoring us." I wander over to the computer and look at some of the stories posted. "Hell, I'd love to nail this guy. Problem is, I feel like I'd be waking a sleeping giant if I piss him off." I hear a thud as her bulk hits the floor. Hot breath pants in my ear as she studies the screen. "Who? Oh. Him." I can hear the contempt. "Yeah. I have the feeling even if we used swords instead of potato peelers, he'd turn us to thin-sliced sushi without turning a hair. I'm egotistical, not stupid." I'm glum. "Damnit. How the hell can you masturbate if the other person doesn't play by your rules?" "What about?..." I point to some of the other people. All are regulars and all have average or thinner egos. "Possibilities I guess." She's thoughtful. "Most of them are too easy." "Yeah. Good point." I start scrolling through the list of authors we've made. "How about?" She points to one group of authors. "Are you crazy? We go after those folks and if we even hint they are doing better or worse than usual, we're going to confirm our lack of credibility. We'd have to admit we read stuff in the more obscure genres and actually enjoyed some of it. You want to make that mistake, feel free. But I'm not going to pull your head out of your cunt if you do." "Umm. Damnit." She's scratching herself absentmindedly. "Yeah. You know who I hate the most? The ones who do a decent job no matter what genre they write in. We can praise them or pan them but nobody cares." I sigh. "Now there's one I'd *love* to hammer." I point to a name. "Except you took a shot and he ignored you. Not only that, there's no way I want to give him a shot at me. He doesn't use a sword. He uses a damn rapier and he's so damn skilled you seldom see it coming in time." "What about her? Admits she's sensitive." I'm getting desperate. My ego needs a fix and it's been a long time. "Sensitive all right. But, she has a tendency to write folks who irritate her into stories. And you know what kind of stories she writes." "This is ridiculous!" I snarl it softly but with feeling. "What about some of the proof readers?" "You've got to be kidding!" She stares at me in shock. "Those folks *routinely* deal with authors. And you want to give some of them the chance to turn their skills on us?? Get real!" "Yeah. A point. Not a good one but scary as hell." I wince as the screen stops scrolling. "You know, we may have outsmarted ourselves." "How? You see something I don't?" She's curious. "Yep. We've been so egotistical about out reviews and our 'only providing a service' crap that who'd believe us if we apologized and tried to be reasonable? Let's face it. We've established ourselves too well in our own genre. If we try to write some other way, we're going to get the same treatment we've given everyone else." She nods slowly. "Hell. Well, I guess we keep on at what we do best. After all, it's not like we're doing anything anyone else isn't. If they can post for themselves, so can we." "Yeah. True. But where's the satisfaction in being ignored?" I point at some of the threads. "The hell of it is, they don't need us but we need them. And, they know it. With their fans able to post and send email to them, how could we ever really convince them we actually make a difference?" I jerk her into my lap. As she leans back against the desk, I ram a fist inside her. Damn, I feel like I could put a leg in there and it would get lost. She reaches down and starts fingering herself. "We do have an alternative. What's the one thing most of them do that we don't?" "Huh?" I stare. "Most of *them* are willing to laugh at themselves. They have egos but they still have fun." I gape. "You can't mean we actually write something?" "Worse. How about we parody ourselves? Deliberately write some reviews that are so outlandish nobody can possibly take them seriously?" I snort softly and turn her so she can see the screen. I point at half-a-dozen names. "And admit to *those* folks that we've been idiots all along? Are you kidding?" "Nope. After all, *we'd* have been the ones to set off the bomb." Her smile is evil. "Damnit but you're stupid at times. You saw what happened the last time somebody used that idea. Folks are *still* laughing about what happened to the perp. I want to feed my ego. Not have it lanced like a festering boil." I sigh. "There's only one solution I can see. We never should have knee-jerked our responses to criticism. There's no real defense when your ego gets out of control - except one." "You admit it." She says it with distaste. "Yeah. Look, anyone can do reviews if their ego is big enough. It's not about facts, it's about emotions and personal preferences. But..." Here I sigh. "It galls me to admit reviewers have to have writers around so we can play our little games." "And you have to have all types of writers to be able to pretend to being 'fair'." She sighs deeply. "We're fucking parasites. Leeches." I can't help my bitter laughter. "The only way past that is to become writers ourselves." I grin. "That's too much work. I'd have to learn to be creative rather than critical." "So." She matches my bitterness. "To get any sort of credibility back and incidentally be able to stroke our egos... We have to actually contribute in a positive manner." I nod as my fist starts moving again. "It's either that or admit we're carrying broken potato peelers." "I suppose we *could* ignore them and just keep on like nothing has happened." She's musing as my arm moves in and out. "We've had to do it before." "Umph. True." I'm not happy about that solution. "It means no ego boosting until a new group of writers moves in." "Yeah. All we can do is feel superior. Even that wears thin after awhile." She's fingering herself in an attempt to get off. Lord knows I'm not able to do it for her. Fucking cunt. Even a stallion would feel lost in her. Me? Hell, even a *small* bitch would look back in puzzlement and wonder why I was using what feels like a finger instead of a real prick. Oh well. What fucking choice do we have? I guess we'll keep writing reviews and trying to make each other feel superior. It's a sure bet that nobody else will feed our egos any more. ---