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competition

Stress

Submitted by System on Wed, 03/18/2009 - 19:44
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Lilly's tired of her roommate Kirsten always flaunting her figure, and finally decides to put her in her place.

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Average: 3.8 (19 votes)

adgirlsble002

Submitted by System on Tue, 12/02/2008 - 16:07
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adgirlsble002
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Average: 4 (7 votes)

Night of Spectacles, A

Submitted by System on Thu, 08/28/2008 - 16:01
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One lady aims to steal the Prince's heart, the other his wealth. When their plans clash, a dangerous competition ensues.

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Average: 4.2 (15 votes)

Lucha de las Globas Hermosas, La

Submitted by System on Sun, 05/25/2008 - 19:04
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or, "The Battle of the Beautiful Balloons"

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Average: 3.9 (17 votes)

shineofrain

Submitted by System on Sun, 05/11/2008 - 22:03
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shineofrain
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Average: 4.1 (10 votes)

PumpContest3

Submitted by System on Sat, 11/17/2007 - 15:41
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PumpContest3
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Average: 4.2 (24 votes)

PumpContest2

Submitted by System on Sat, 11/17/2007 - 15:41
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PumpContest2
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Average: 4 (22 votes)

Stefi

Submitted by System on Tue, 10/16/2007 - 18:10
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I rushed in and grabbed a soda from the fridge, smiling to myself as Stefi entered the room.

"So how was class?" she asked.

"Oh, pretty good I guess. Same 'ol..you know." I said as I plopped on to the couch grinning.

"What's so funny?" she said. "Oh nothing, I just saw the biggest blimp overhead." I remarked.

"Really? Well...how big?" she questioned with a growing frown.

"Big..really big." I said as I continued to smile and flipped the remote.

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Average: 3.8 (5 votes)

No Competition

Submitted by System on Fri, 10/12/2007 - 16:10
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A man sat in a booth at the dark end of the bar, a clutch of balloons drifting back and forth above his head as air currents from the heating toyed with the pretty rubber globes. His posture and alert response every time the door opened denoted he was waiting for someone with great eagerness. The perfect victim.

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Average: 3.5 (8 votes)

Racer X

Submitted by System on Sun, 07/08/2007 - 13:56
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Three days before the race and I was incredibly nervous as I stood with the other unhired racers in a row, hoping to be hired. My black rubber gas suit bore my pressure stat “425” in large proud white letters across my swollen belly as I stood with my hands behind my back. Problem was, so were my other eight competitors, six women and two men. Women had more natural adaptability for this than men did; among men, I was a minor celebrity. The crowds were still milling around as a young debutante—tight sweater, tight jeans--strolled up to me, all hips and lips and boobs.

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Average: 4.2 (6 votes)
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