"Please, write me the prompt," she moaned at him. This girl, calling herself Anawn, is relentless.
One day, Jones received a private message to his online alias, Writefag, asking for a particular prompt. One so utterly bizarre, so labyrinthine, so depraved that he didn't know whether to cry, vomit, or marvel. It won't be reproduced here, but a tamer ingredient of it involves an inner tube filled with locusts. He declined for his own sanity. Yet, she had kept pestering him.
"Why not anyone else?" he queried.
"I prefer how you write," she said.
Perhaps this could be advantageous. So he thought to request payment, and see how long he could string her along. Even tens of thousands of dollars was no concern for her — and she happily sent them as an advance. Well, rent isn't an issue anymore. He discovered she was a girl when he asked for nudes, and she enthusiastically sent several, alongside more begging for the prompt.
He finally told her a coffee shop's address, and demanded to meet her. She acquiesced, giving him a time.
***
A week later, an attractive young girl with raven-black hair, and baggy, masturbation-addled eyes is sitting in the shop holding a sign saying "Here for Writefag".
After greetings, she said, "You know, I've done an awful lot to get you to write that prompt."
"Your request is 19 pages, and involves several fetishes that aren't even euclidean."
"What more could you need?" she sighs.
He grins. "Well, your body?"
"If that's what it takes... Please, write me the prompt," she moaned at him.