Scheduling Conflict

The first thing Becky noticed about the bar was how everything seemed to have an amber glow. The dark flocked damask wallpaper, the dark wood of the bar and tables, the candlelight reflecting off the mirrors behind the bar. It was a beautiful place, filled with glimmering bottles of mysterious elixirs and rows of empty leather topped stools. Becky had to imagine in a few hours the place would be packed, but it was only 5pm on a Tuesday, so they had the place to themselves.

The woman she was supposed to meet was sitting at the end of the bar, finishing a ruby colored cocktail. As she put down her empty glass, the handsome bartender in the white dress shirt and black tie and vest shook up another drink and replaced her glass with a new one, filling it and topping it with an orange peel with a flourish.

It was hard to approach someone who looked so unapproachable, but Becky had a task to complete. read more


We are adults. We are responsible. We respect each other. We are kind. We are fair. But the other morning I saw you in that little pink dress and your eyes were wide and your smile was sweet. You looked so innocent and pretty. You looked fresh and bright and happy. And I just wanted to ruin you. I wanted to break you and watch you crumble. I wanted to mark your skin. I wanted you to cry until your makeup was gone and your ego was gone and you were just a mess. And then, when you had nothing left, I wanted to use you for every disgusting thing my body hungered for. A limp wet broken toy.


Purity Ring

He held her hand in his and slipped the ring onto her finger.

“And you understood what this means, right sweetie?” He asked, putting his hand on her chin and lifting her gaze to his.

“Yes, sir,” read more

Or Else

She said if I didn’t do exactly what she said, she would scream.

She would scream and scream and then tell everyone how horrible I was. How I looked up her dress. How I showed her dirty stories.

She said I had to stay still and let her do whatever she wanted. I had to let her smack me across the face. I had to take it. I had to let her hit me until her hand hurt. read more

Never Sir

The coffee dripped into the glass carafe. Kay leaned against the counter of the kitchenette and watched each drop, inhaling the scent deeply. Everything would be better after coffee.

Not that the morning was going poorly. She was standing in a beautiful hotel room and Henry, the man who had done wonderful and unspeakable things to her the night before, was a few feet away, naked, under the spray of an overly elaborate shower.

Still, a question hung in her mind and she needed an answer. A question that arose a few weeks before, on their fourth date. read more


I stood in the corner of the small room, tense, ready, waiting. I wore a simple black suit with a white shirt and a black tie. My jacket was a little tight, it made me feel like a caged animal. I was ready to pounce.

Jane was sitting at a small card table with the girl in a chair in front of her. Jane was dressed in a simple black suit as well. Her hair was copper red and tied in a bun, her face was a warm brown, her cheeks splashed with freckles. Her eyes narrowed on the girl, waiting for her to answer the question.

The girl was a mess. Eye makeup running down her face, her short curly hair a mop on her head, her cheeks and neck splotchy blushing red, her body was wracked with little sobs. She was stripped down to nothing but a thin light blue bra and panties set. She was tied to the chair with thin black rope. Her arms were behind her back and her legs were spread, ankles tied to the legs of the chair. We had only been in the room for 15 minutes, but she was already broken. Pretty girls never take long. read more


Ms. Elevator

There are those strangers in your life whom you constantly bump into. The people who you see around town, but for whatever reasons never introduce yourself to.

Among that group there are the pretty ones whose eyes you seem to catch over and over again. Interaction that you are never sure are flirtatious, but always get your heart racing. read more


He was never content to receive. He was never happy with just one form of stimulation.

If they kissed sweetly, his hand would inevitably find her breast. If they cuddled, his palm would find the roundness of her ass.

Not that she minded. She liked to be useful. She liked to be desired. She liked to be his. read more


She doesn’t do things spur of the moment. If it is a date or a meeting or coffee or what ever, it goes into her calendar. She is composed, she is punctual, she leaves parties when she is scheduled to leave.

“Come over when your date is through. Bring coffee ice cream and eat my pussy,” says the text message.

And she continues to have a good time with Brad or what ever his name is, but when he goes to the bathroom she googles where the closest supermarket is and makes sure she has enough cash for a cab and texts “yes Miss.” read more


When Margaux bent forward, nude, her thighs together, a split peach appeared between her legs, or so I said to Rose, who sat next to me.

Margaux laughed when I told her this and corrected me.

“No, no, it is my little macaron,” she said with her somewhat vague British accent, looking back at us over her shoulder, still in the position, arching her back to give us a better view. read more