Aisha's Ambition - June/July Community Contest

[RapeU]

Teaser: I was lying on a bare mattress, my wrists and ankles each cuffed individually to a cold metal bed frame, the steel biting into my skin. My legs were spread wide. I was completely naked. My heart struck the inside of my chest like a fist as the full shape of it settled over me. This was exactly what Wendy had lived through.
-------------------------------------------------------------

The author of this story has read and accepted the rules for posting stories. They guarantee that the following story depicts none of the themes listed in the Forbidden Content section of the rules.

The following story is a work of fiction meant for entertainment purposes only. It depicts nonconsensual sexual acts between adults. It is in no way meant to be understood as an endorsement of nonconsensual sex in real life. Any similarities of the characters in the story to real people are purely coincidental.
-------------------------------------------------------------
Title: Aisha's Ambition
Author: RapeU
-------------------------------------------------------------

It's an Aisha story from The Life and Misadventures of Hannah and Wendy universe! This story takes place either during or after Four Friends, One Business.. FFOB is currently unfinished (hence why I said during or after because I don't quite know yet) and does not need to be read in order to enjoy this story. Enough background information is given for readers who haven't read any Hannah/Wendy stories yet.

This story is also an entry in the June/July Community Contest

-------------------------------------------------------------

Aisha's Ambition

As far back as I can remember, I’ve always been the most mature out of all my friends. Once when I was six, a girl my age called me a wetback. I could have gotten angry, but something about the way she said it felt different. I’d heard the word before from people trying to bully me and her tone lacked venom. When I asked if she even knew what the word meant, she admitted she didn't. When I explained it to her, she was horrified. That’s how Hannah Thompson and I became best friends.

Several years later, a boy named Armando called me the same thing behind my back when I was home sick with the chicken pox. Hannah wouldn’t stand for it and confronted him. They got into a fight and Armando gave Hannah a black eye. Armando got suspended, eventually moved to a different town, and was never heard from by any of us again.

Somewhere between grade school and high school, Armando became Amanda Barkley.

Hannah and I never made the connection between last names. It wasn’t like Armando disappeared one day and Amanda appeared the next. It was several years before we met Amanda in high school. I could tell something was off about her and didn’t like her from the start. Hannah liked her though, and they went to prom together. Just before graduation they broke up. Hannah has never mentioned what happened, but I fully supported her through that time. Amanda tried to bully Hannah into taking her back, but I stood up to her and didn’t back down. She backed off. Hannah moved on and met Wendy her freshman year in college where they became a couple.

The next I heard about Amanda was when Hannah mentioned Amanda trying to get with her before Hannah and Wendy’s wedding. It was complete lunacy for her to try and do that. We planned ahead for disruptions and sure enough, Amanda dramatically objected during the “speak now or forever hold your peace” moment.

Things changed after that moment. Amanda chose to pursue Wendy. She kidnapped Wendy, assaulted her, and insisted it was a consensual relationship. After making bail and being placed on house arrest, she sent dozens of messages to Wendy from different phone numbers despite a court order prohibiting contact. The court order felt like useless paper. Every time Wendy blocked a number, Amanda somehow found a different one.

The police officer assigned to the case was doing the best she could. Her hands were tied due to the FBI’s involvement. The FBI agent in charge was difficult to reach. We all attempted to leave messages and never got a response from him. That’s how I ended up in Amanda's neighborhood. I’ve always been the mature and practical one. The one who solved problems instead of creating them. At the time, driving to Amanda Barkley’s house to try and find a peaceful resolution felt like the adult thing to do.

I told myself I wasn’t going to Amanda’s house to be brave. I was going to be practical. Amanda couldn't leave her house. She had an ankle monitor. It was the middle of the afternoon. I wasn’t going inside. I would stand by my car, say what needed saying, and leave. She had backed down from me before.

Amanda’s house was on the corner of a street that ended in a cul-de-sac. For some reason it had a driveway on two different sides. I approached the house from the main street. Amanda was already visible through the windshield, doing something with the chain link gate to her backyard. Her hair was longer than it had been in high school. Everything else felt exactly the same. I sat for a moment watching her before I got out.

“I’ve been waiting for so long,” Amanda said with a sorrowful tone after I shut the car door. She looked at me and blinked. “You’re not Wendy.”

I nodded and took a few steps toward her, but kept close enough to the car that I could leave if I needed to. “That’s correct. You need to leave Wendy alone.”

Amanda returned to tinkering with the gate of the chain link fence, completely ignoring me at first. “Wendy loves me,” she said in a whisper so soft I almost missed it.

I shook my head, “She blocks your texts. Wendy wouldn’t do that if she loved you.”

Amanda picked up an oil can near her feet and carefully poured some oil on the hinge of the gate. She moved it up and down. It let out a soft squeak. “She doesn’t know she loves me yet,” Amanda whispered. “She needs to be shown.”

“Amanda, that’s not what love is,” I said. “I’ve seen others confuse infatuation with love. That’s what you’re doing.”

Amanda looked at me again, tilting her head. “You’ve seen others?”

I nodded.

“Who?” Amanda put more oil on the hinge of the gate.

“A classmate. Everyone could tell he liked her immediately. He was awkward around her and followed her around whenever he got the chance.”

Amanda smiled and continued to move the hinge up and down. It was silent. “Did it work?”

I shook my head. “No. She had a boyfriend at the time. He was upset for a day or two, then moved on and eventually found someone who liked him back.”

Amanda set the oil can down and stared at me. “How interesting. It sounds like he didn’t try hard enough,” she said, no longer adjusting the hinge.

I shook my head “That’s not the point.”

“I know,” Amanda said. “I can see. Have you ever been in love Aisha?”

I felt the back of my neck prickle. “This isn’t about me. This is about Wendy. Leave her alone.”

Amanda gave me a wide toothy grin. “You’re jealous of what Wendy has.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “No, I’m not jealous of Wendy.”

Amanda shook her head. “You want what Wendy has. Someone who loves her.”

I opened my mouth, but couldn’t think of a reply to that because she wasn’t entirely wrong. I did want someone who loved me the way Wendy and Hannah love each other. Amanda of course noticed my hesitation.

“You can’t deny it,” she said with a sparkle in her eyes.

There was an awkward silence. This wasn’t how I pictured the confrontation would go. I thought I could get her to back off like I had done in high school.

“What stops you,” Amanda asked breaking the silence.

I frowned. “Stops me from what?”

“From finding someone.”

I hesitated. “I don't know…”

Amanda let out a soft giggle. “I do. You keep coming back.”

“What?”

“You came to me when Hannah broke up with me.”

I frowned. “I supported my friend.”

“But you still came to me.”

“Because you were harassing her.”

Amanda smiled faintly. “You came to me during the wedding reception.”

I shook my head. “I prevented you from coming to the wedding reception because you weren’t invited.”

Amanda replied, completely ignoring what I said, “And you have come to me now. Alone.”

Something about the way she said “alone” felt creepy.

Amanda continued. “Most people run away from me. You don’t.”

“Because I want you to stop harassing my friends.”

“No.” Amanda shook her head. “You don’t know you love me. You just need to be shown.”

The words felt like a kick in the chest. I felt my heart thud faster. She said the same thing about Wendy.

“Oh shit,” I whispered.

I realized too late that there was no reasoning with Amanda. My body felt frozen as my mind raced to find an exit strategy out of this confrontation. I got Amanda to stop obsessing over Wendy, but at what cost?

Amanda took a step toward me away from the gate. “I expected someone else, but you came instead.”

“I came here to tell you to leave Wendy alone.” At some point I had taken a few more steps toward Amanda so I could hear her better. The distance to my car no longer felt safe.

“Of course you did,” Amanda said with another step. “Because you want what Wendy has.”

I took a step back. “No, I want you to stop.”

Amanda shook her head. “You don’t see yet. I do. I see clearly now.” She took a step toward me.

I took another step back.

“Where are you going, Aisha?”

I didn’t answer, already afraid I had lingered too long. Amanda moved so quickly I barely registered the shift. In one moment she was smiling, eyes fixed on me with that glittering, searching light, and in the next she closed the distance, hands outstretched. I twisted to run, but she caught a fistful of my shirt at the shoulder and yanked. The collar bit into my throat, cutting off my gasp, and I stumbled backward into her, off-balance.

I yelped as my arms were twisted painfully behind me.

“Help,” I screamed out, “HELP!”

Amanda’s chin pressed into my shoulder. “I will help you see, Aisha.”

I screamed again and wondered how no one heard me. Amanda dragged me backward through the gate. I couldn’t see where she was taking me. I tried to stomp, kick, twist, but nothing worked. For a brief moment my arms were free, but then some stinky cloth covered my face. I gasped out of reflex before my brain told me why the cloth smelled bad and drifted into unconsciousness…

***

I had a dull migraine. Hopefully a Tylenol and Ibuprofen combo would do the trick for this one. I tried to reach for the medication bottle on the nightstand and realized I couldn’t move the way I wanted to.

“Wha?”

My initial thought was sleep paralysis. But I was able to wiggle my fingers and toes. That normally doesn’t happen with that condition. Then I remembered: I had gone to Amanda's house to confront her, and I had lost.

My eyes dragged open to a dimly lit basement, the air heavy with damp concrete and something faintly chemical. I was lying on a bare mattress, my wrists and ankles each cuffed individually to a cold metal bed frame, the steel biting into my skin. My legs were spread wide. I was completely naked. My heart struck the inside of my chest like a fist as the full shape of it settled over me. This was exactly what Wendy had lived through.

“You’re awake,” Amanda’s voice came from somewhere I couldn’t see.

I answered, “Amanda you’re going to get in trouble again. Let me go.”

“Trouble,” Amanda replied stepping into my field of vision. She wore just a bra, panties, and the ankle monitor from her house arrest. I gulped when I noticed the unmistakable shape pressing against the front of her underwear.

“You came to me, Aisha. How can I get in trouble?”

There was no point in trying to reason with Amanda logically. Could I perhaps get away if I aligned with her delusional world? It was a gamble, but I didn’t have any better ideas.

“You’re right,” I said.

Amanda tilted her head. “About what?”

“I do want what Wendy has.”

Amanda smiled. “So you do see. Good.”

“I see,” I agreed. “Can you unlock the cuffs so we can go somewhere more comfortable than this basement?”

Fire flashed in Amanda’s eyes. “You’re trying to trick me.”

“No, I want to be shown. Show me where we can both be comfortable.”

Amanda laughed softly. “Oh Aisha, It’s adorable how you think you’re pretending.”

“I’m not pretending.”

“Armando knows you are. Armando wants to meet you Aisha.”

I frowned, “What?”

Amanda pulled her panties down. An erect cock stood at attention in her middle. She tossed the panties towards me. I realized the panties she wore were my own. She took the bra off next and let it drop to the floor, her ankle monitor the only thing left on her body.

“Armando wants to meet you. To be inside you.”

My breath caught in my throat and fear gripped my body. I wanted to throw up, but the bile stayed down, as if it, too, were shackled to the mattress. Could I scream again? Would it even matter? No, it wouldn’t. I had to be clever. I needed to buy time. I blinked, desperate to keep my panic inside. Amanda wanted someone that loved her. Maybe if she thought I did, she would slow down.

“Amanda?” I said, fighting for control over the quiver in my voice. “Will you kiss me first?”

She paused, arms slack at her side like a doll. “Kiss you?”

I nodded vigorously. “Please, can we just start slow?”

Amanda tilted her head again, and her face actually flushed. “You really do want me.”

“I want things done right,” I said, which wasn’t a complete lie. “Actually what I really want is to talk first. Can we cuddle and just talk?”

Amanda blinked. “No one has ever asked to just talk to me. They either want to fix me or run away.” She studied my face. “Do you really want to just talk?”

I nodded, “Yes. I like it when things go slow.”

Amanda stared at me for a few moments, “You’re telling the truth,” she said. She crawled onto the mattress with me and lay her head on my breast. One of her hands rested against my other breast. I felt her cock poke at my thigh. It wasn’t comfortable, but it was better than the alternative.

I let her lie there, uncertain of my next move. Was this a moment of warmth or the eye of a hurricane? I wondered if Amanda was capable of tenderness, or if my compliance was simply stoking her hunger, giving her justification to follow through.

“I haven’t listened to anyone’s heart like this since high school. Except we weren’t naked then.”

“Is it because you wanted to keep something secret?” I asked.

One of Amanda’s fingers circled around my nipple. It was difficult to not react to it, but I managed. “Yes,” she said. “Nobody knew. I didn’t even tell Hannah.”

“That sounds lonely,” I said. Amanda’s finger continued the slow circle.

“Not as lonely as the boy who hit a girl.” Her finger froze. “The story always found the boy no matter how many times the boy tried to get away from it.”

“Is that why you transitioned?” I asked. She scratched at my nipple, making it difficult to not react.

“Maybe. Maybe I always considered myself a girl trapped in a boy’s body.” Her finger poked and prodded my nipple, making it hard. “Maybe I was supposed to be born a girl.”

“Trust me,” I said, “period cramps are the worst feeling in the world. You got off easy.”

Amanda giggled. “You’re funny.” She then let out a soft sigh. “Life is funny. I never imagined my special someone would be you.” Her palm brushed my hard nipple like she was petting it.

“Laying on a mattress with Amanda Barkley was not on my bingo card for this year,” I replied, hoping that touching my bosom was all she would do.

Amanda let out another soft sigh, “You understand me better than anyone ever has.” Her hand kneaded my breast.

“I’ve probably known you the longest out of anyone.”

“Yes,” Amanda said, “and this time someone will truly understand.” Her hand left my breast. She lifted her head off my chest and slowly went up to my face. “This time, I’ll truly make love.”

“Amanda I…”

She silenced me with a soft kiss. My strategy didn’t work. Amanda listened, talked to me, and opened up. But it didn’t change anything. She was going to do whatever she wanted with me. But how I reacted mattered. Should I lean into it and hope it buys me more time? Should I struggle? I truly didn’t know.

Amanda kissed like someone living out a fantasy she'd replayed a thousand times. I didn’t kiss back, but I didn’t turn away, either. I couldn’t with the restraints. My arms ached to move, and when she finally pulled back I coughed out a shudder, bracing for what came next.

“You’re trembling,” Amanda observed. “It’s cute.”

She kissed me again before I could say anything. Harder this time, like she was trying to get something out of me. I held my lips still, stubborn, even as her mouth pressed harder, insistent, as if she could coax a response by sheer pressure. I felt her cock between my legs and gasped into the kiss.

Amanda broke the kiss. “I understand exactly what you want Aisha. Armando will be gentle.”

Before I could reply she kissed me again, and I felt her cock gently push inside me. My body arched against the handcuffs, which rattled on the frame. Pain shot up my shoulders, and I let out a muffled cry.

The kiss broke again. “You have to be gentle too,” Amanda whispered. “Don’t try and fight it. Embrace it. This is exactly what you want.” She slowly worked her cock in further. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to think about something else, anything else.

I wanted to float away. I’d read stories about people dissociating, their minds splitting off into cold, clinical places when their bodies no longer felt like their own. But I couldn’t get there. I felt every inch of Amanda’s body pressing me down, lips pressed on mine, and her cock going in and out slowly, gently, like a careful lover would.

Amanda took me without a true rhythm. Sometimes she would just stop, catch her breath, and look into my face before starting again. I think she wanted to see something in my face. It scared me that I didn’t know what she wanted, only that she was going to take it.

I tried to look away. Amanda cupped my cheek and gently turned my head back, kissing me again. It was the kind of thing that would've been nice if everything wasn't completely wrong. The handcuffs rattled as I tensed. Amanda held my face, barely moving now, just breathing against my lips. Her hips moved slower than before, drawing the moment out, as if she believed a careful tempo might make it romantic.

“Yessss,” Amanda hissed. “You’re the one,” she breathlessly said while thrusting slow and deep inside me. I could only let out choked sobs. They didn’t deter Amanda. She matched my sobs and grunts with moans of her own, probably thinking I was enjoying it.

Suddenly Amanda let out a deep groan. I felt my insides fill with whatever her body had released into mine. She collapsed on top of me, her sweat slick against my skin. After a few minutes her head lay on my breast again with one hand on the other. I don't know how long we were just lying there. Time stopped making sense. My heartbeat thundered in my ears. The only other sound was the soft hum of the basement light.

“Incredible,” Amanda whispered at one point. I couldn’t think. My body and mind felt numb. Something pinged in the distance. Whatever it was caused Amanda to instantly tense. The ping happened again. That time I recognized it as a phone notification.

“Fuck, it’s too early,” Amanda said as she quickly got off of me and out of my line of sight. “No! Not now! We’re so close!” She let out a groan then reappeared in my line of sight with a heavy pair of shears.

“Tell them the truth, Aisha. Tell them you want me.”

“Huh?” I didn’t understand what was happening. Did I fall asleep? Was I dreaming?

“Just tell them,” Amanda hissed. I saw her use the shears on her ankle monitor. Immediately the ankle monitor let out an agonizing rhythmic BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! She tossed it onto the mattress, where it landed next to my right foot.

“NO!” I screamed, “Make the beeping stop!” But Amanda was gone.

Every second felt like an eternity of pain. All I could hear was the shrill beeping of the ankle monitor. Then, I heard a different sound. I couldn’t tell what it was over the beeping. Finally, the basement door opened and a few moments later the beeping stopped. The police found me. I numbly realized I was laying there naked with Amanda’s fluids on me. I recognized Officer Richardson, or Amber to those who were victims like she had once been. Like I just was.

“You’re safe now. We’ve got you,” Amber said. Seeing her made me feel instantly relieved.

“Thank you,” I croaked. “How did you know to come for me?”

“Hannah told us where you were last.”

“Hannah,” I whispered. After Wendy's kidnapping, Hannah had made all of us download a location sharing app. I had rolled my eyes at the time. Here it had saved my life.

“We’ll get you to the hospital. Rest now and when you’re ready we’ll talk.”

Talk.

I wasn't looking forward to future conversations. Questions. Statements. Therapy. Court dates. Everyone would ask the same question: Why did you go there alone? The question just sat there. I kept turning it over and couldn't come up with anything that didn't sound stupid. As I lay on the gurney, a blanket tucked under my chin and my wrists bandaged where the cuffs left angry burn marks, I realized I had no answer that would satisfy anyone. Least of all myself.

I’d gone there believing I could save Wendy.

Instead, Hannah ended up saving me.
-------------------------------------------------------------

[sinfulwords]

So Im Not giving any ratings for the contest, cause I’m competing too so I will simply comment on the text for now

I liked the subtle uses of two of the prompts ^.^ the court order for house arrest and the door hinges were slid in super stealthy like obviously the obsession prompt took center stage which I enjoyed.

the trans element was an interesting choice for a villainous role. Very Wild Bill in Silence of the Lambs. “It puts the lotion on its skin or it gets the hose again” type shit

In addition to that trans element I enjoyed the Sméagol/Gollum vibes between Armando and Amanda, the way they were spoken about as if they were two different people—perhaps the penis was Armando and Amanda was the person tho regardless I liked the way the two identities were utilized.

I’m afraid Imma have to agree with the everyone about asking why Aisha would go to see that psycho-ass alone like at least go strapped! or with pepper spray at the VERY least 🫪…or a knife, a sword, a dog LMAO any type of security or weapon!

Anyway! Fun read dude! good luck in the contest

[RapeU]

So Im Not giving any ratings for the contest, cause I’m competing too so I will simply comment on the text for now

Totally reasonable. Just don't forget to rate after the contest is over

I liked the subtle uses of two of the prompts ^.^ the court order for house arrest and the door hinges were slid in super stealthy like obviously the obsession prompt took center stage which I enjoyed.

Oiled was the hardest part, then an episode of an old 90's tv show Sliders just popped into my head. The main characters slide to alternate dimensions without knowing how to return home. On one episode they think they've found their home dimension and one of the characters tests the gate because it had always squeaked. It doesn't and they slide into another dimension. Later we see that it was the right one and some guy fixed the squeaky gate with a little oil. That gave me the idea and it was perfect because Amanda had something to do during the conversation.

the trans element was an interesting choice for a villainous role. Very Wild Bill in Silence of the Lambs. “It puts the lotion on its skin or it gets the hose again” type shit

Yeah I might introduce another trans character in the universe because I don't intend the focus of "Amanda is bad because she's trans." More like "Amanda has severe mental health and attachment issues." The trans part is not meant to be part of her mental health issues.

In addition to that trans element I enjoyed the Sméagol/Gollum vibes between Armando and Amanda, the way they were spoken about as if they were two different people—perhaps the penis was Armando and Amanda was the person tho regardless I liked the way the two identities were utilized.

Ooo I didn't think of Sméagol/Gollum, but this is the perfect allegory for Amanda. Amanda is dangerous, obsessive, and has completely lost touch with reality when it comes to people and relationships. But she's not evil.

I’m afraid Imma have to agree with the everyone about asking why Aisha would go to see that psycho-ass alone like at least go strapped! or with pepper spray at the VERY least 🫪…or a knife, a sword, a dog LMAO any type of security or weapon!

Overconfidence, and Aisha hasn't been a victim before this point. Had something happened to her like Hannah/Wendy/Zoe she probably would have been more cautious.

Anyway! Fun read dude! good luck in the contest

Thanks! Yours seems to be an early favorite. I haven't read it yet but will soonish

[Shocker]

I must admit I'm slightly confused, is it Armando to Amanda or Amanda to Armando?

Those poor ladies can't get a break, being taken advantage of over and over again. Glad I finally get around reading the entries for the contest. Rating will occur once I have read them all, as always.,

[sinfulwords]

Totally reasonable. Just don't forget to rate after the contest is over

Oh don’t u worry about that bro-bot, three stars are coming your way after the contest! You know I be passing them out like candies on Halloween

Yeah I might introduce another trans character in the universe because I don't intend the focus of "Amanda is bad because she's trans." More like "Amanda has severe mental health and attachment issues." The trans part is not meant to be part of her mental health issues.

100% understood! I’m just incapable of not doing movie references It might be MY obsession LMAO

Ooo I didn't think of Sméagol/Gollum, but this is the perfect allegory for Amanda. Amanda is dangerous, obsessive, and has completely lost touch with reality when it comes to people and relationships. But she's not evil.

I feel you Although I feel like Amanda was the antagonist of this story, I find with villains, the best ones are usually not ‘evil’ per se. They often have layers that either one: justifies their actions in one way or another, or two: makes them relatable Amanda’s precarious mental state brings depth to her character and invokes empathy in the reader. obviously that makes for a captivating multi-dimensional ‘villain’.
​​

Overconfidence, and Aisha hasn't been a victim before this point. Had something happened to her like Hannah/Wendy/Zoe she probably would have been more cautious.

So this is the beginning of Aishia’s arc where she goes to get her firearm safety cert and CCW?

Thanks! Yours seems to be an early favorite. I haven't read it yet but will soonish

Well it aint over ‘till the fat lady sings But yes, thank you, I’m enjoying the positive reception. I’ll look forward to your thoughts when ever u get around to reading it!

[sinfulwords]

Nothing to see here

[sinfulwords]

I accidentally posted another comment when I was trying to edit some typos in my previous one

[MillieDynamite]

I don't understand why this one isn't in second place, or even first. It is my favorite one in the contest, excluding mine, of course, and deserves a higher score.

MillieD.

[Claire]

I have trouble rating this story.

In general, I'm not a fan of entering a chapter of a longer story or a spinoff to a larger series into a contest unless the contest is of course explicitly fanfiction or spinoff themed. To me, that goes kind of against the spirit of a contest where every contestant writes a self-contained short story based on a prompt or set of prompts. I don't like it because it creates fundamentally different reading experiences for those familiar with the larger context of the world and those who are not.

As someone who read almost all of the Wendy and Hannah saga and who enjoyed it very much in the beginning, but lost interest in it with the wedding story, I now don't really know how to evalute this story for the contest.

If I read it separate from the larger context of the universe and just view it as a standalone story, it's a decent kidnapping story with a crazy, delusional rapist. The protagonist acts like a complete moron, but that's nothing new in horror stories. I would probably give it 2 points.

But as a story in the larger Wendy and Hannah universe, the problems I have with the series since the wedding story are on full display here again.

Ever since after The Blowout, the series has no sense of direction for me anymore. Since then, it feels like this weird mixture of cozy slice of life that occasionally gets interrupted by one of the 4 main girls getting kidnapped and raped by a crazy rapist. And each of these kidnappings plays out more or less the same in the sense that there seems to be some conversation between kidnapper and victim, then the rape happens, and finally the victim gets saved by some external force - the police or the rapist lets them go - but never through anything they do by themselves. It feels formulaic. And then the slice of life resumes where, for the most part, the cast of characters seems to shake off getting raped and kidnapped like a bad cold.

If I had to rate the story in that context, it would reduce my rating from 2 to 1 points.

I thought long about whether I should write this comment because I know that it's harsher than my usual comments. But given how often the Wendy and Hannah stories pop up in contests, I'm just having a harder and harder time reading and rating them.

On the one hand, I want to read them and support your writing. And some part of me still hopes that the larger plot finds its way back to what made it work for me in The Blowout and that the whole story stops feeling so aimless. And on the other hand, I just lost interest after the wedding story and I feel the same lack of progression in all the other stories in this universe since then. I would probably no longer have read further stories in this universe if they didn't keep showing up in contests or didn't feature Mark. And that leaves me in this weird position where I keep reading and feel disappointed when I normally would just check out and say: "Okay, that's not for me."

Anyway, the larger point is: If you don't see me commenting on the Wendy and Hannah stories anymore, it's not because I'm not interested in your writing anymore. I had fun with your "Back Home" story for the last contest for example. I just don't want to say same thing over and over again why this universe stopped working for me. I think that would just become too negative.

[RapeU]

I have trouble rating this story.

In general, I'm not a fan of entering a chapter of a longer story or a spinoff to a larger series into a contest unless the contest is of course explicitly fanfiction or spinoff themed. To me, that goes kind of against the spirit of a contest where every contestant writes a self-contained short story based on a prompt or set of prompts. I don't like it because it creates fundamentally different reading experiences for those familiar with the larger context of the world and those who are not.

An interesting way to view contests. You're probably right, it might be better to write stories that aren't too deep in an established universe. Two Broken, One Whole worked well because it was the second story instead of the 8th story.

As someone who read almost all of the Wendy and Hannah saga and who enjoyed it very much in the beginning, but lost interest in it with the wedding story, I now don't really know how to evalute this story for the contest.

If I read it separate from the larger context of the universe and just view it as a standalone story, it's a decent kidnapping story with a crazy, delusional rapist. The protagonist acts like a complete moron, but that's nothing new in horror stories. I would probably give it 2 points.

Sounds about right. It's not by any means perfect, but it's a solid entry as a standalone story

But as a story in the larger Wendy and Hannah universe, the problems I have with the series since the wedding story are on full display here again.

Ever since after The Blowout, the series has no sense of direction for me anymore. Since then, it feels like this weird mixture of cozy slice of life that occasionally gets interrupted by one of the 4 main girls getting kidnapped and raped by a crazy rapist. And each of these kidnappings plays out more or less the same in the sense that there seems to be some conversation between kidnapper and victim, then the rape happens, and finally the victim gets saved by some external force - the police or the rapist lets them go - but never through anything they do by themselves. It feels formulaic. And then the slice of life resumes where, for the most part, the cast of characters seems to shake off getting raped and kidnapped like a bad cold.

If I had to rate the story in that context, it would reduce my rating from 2 to 1 points.

For the most part it's told through Wendy's eyes. Wendy has natural optimism and is doubling, maybe even tripling, down on it when bad things happen. That optimism is going to crack starting in Four Friends One Business. Then it's going to completely shatter after Hannah and Wendy find themselves in a perilous situation again.

I thought long about whether I should write this comment because I know that it's harsher than my usual comments. But given how often the Wendy and Hannah stories pop up in contests, I'm just having a harder and harder time reading and rating them.

On the one hand, I want to read them and support your writing. And some part of me still hopes that the larger plot finds its way back to what made it work for me in The Blowout and that the whole story stops feeling so aimless. And on the other hand, I just lost interest after the wedding story and I feel the same lack of progression in all the other stories in this universe since then. I would probably no longer have read further stories in this universe if they didn't keep showing up in contests or didn't feature Mark. And that leaves me in this weird position where I keep reading and feel disappointed when I normally would just check out and say: "Okay, that's not for me."

Completely understandable, and I know exactly what the issue is. So far I've gone with the optimistic endings or "things go back to being ok" because that's who Wendy is, and her optimism helps the entire group. I also want the reader to genuinely like these characters, similar to how when you watch the movie "Marley and Me" the whole movie gets you to fall in love with a dog. That was the general point of the wedding story and also the general point of the business story. Not to advance major plot points and have a major shift in the universe, but to get the reader to enjoy these characters to the point that when suddenly a character's plot armor is gone, it's completely devastating.

So, in the next story I'll escalate things to shatter Wendy's optimism. I had actually planned on doing that already, but in a more subtle way. Now I see that it's probably better to use the subtlety in Four Friends One Business and completely shatter the optimism in the next story.

Anyway, the larger point is: If you don't see me commenting on the Wendy and Hannah stories anymore, it's not because I'm not interested in your writing anymore. I had fun with your "Back Home" story for the last contest for example. I just don't want to say same thing over and over again why this universe stopped working for me. I think that would just become too negative.

Try Four Friends, One Business when it's complete or nearly complete. Then, the next story is going to completely shatter Wendy's optimism. In a way I did that here with Aisha's bitter thought about how she knew people would ask why she went there alone and realized all the practical logical reasons she had at the beginning were too absurd as an answer.