Let Go

It started with Jones from accounting. He was called into an office, so routine, and then security came and unplugged his computer. Donna Moore was next, she was some kind of account rep. In a week Baker, Lee and Hernandez were all gone.

They all walked out of that office with same dull numb looks on their face, like they’d seen a ghost.

They took on all of accounting and all of the account reps, cutting roughly a third of their numbers. Though I had some evidence I was safe, you never know.

Katie had been this ever-present force in my office life. Nothing serious, nothing real, just flirting. A passing glance, a little smile, a look that lasted a second too long. We never even really spoke much but she suddenly became my best friend when the trouble started.

She would swing over to my desk when the smokers went out on their breaks. We had the bond of the clean lunged.

I had always noticed her. Tallish, a little broad shouldered and obviously originally from the Midwest. Some of those Midwest girls have a certain build; a little stocky like field hockey players – and they never lose that. She was that type, but with the poise and fashion sense of someone who had lived in Manhattan for a few years. Shoulder length chocolate brown hair that was shiny and smooth, a very expensive cut. She wore designer clothes and had a million shoes. She liked to look good and smell good.
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Fiction – The Date, Part Two

Warning: This story involves forced sex/rape fantasies and role playing. Read The Date, Part 1 first.

I wonder what she saw when she looked at me. I was dying of curiosity, actually. I wanted to see the look in her eyes, study her body language, pick her apart, but we both had roles here. I had to drive. I had to look forward and clench my jaw and go.

“This isn’t the way to my apartment.” She was pouting with every word.

I didn’t have to pretend when I scoffed.

When I got to my block I was trying to formulate something that wouldn’t seem that horrific to anyone who might see us, but at the same time let her know that I was serious. I parked across the street and turned off the engine. I looked at her dead in the eyes. She had her arms folded in front of her chest and she was frowning.
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Fiction – The Date, Part One

Warning: This story involves forced sex/rape fantasies and role playing. Read The Date, Part 2 next.

The crickets chirped as I pulled the car up to the clearing. Nothing but trees around us and stars above us. I turned off the motor but left the lights and the radio on. Out there the station was a little static-y, but the smooth sounds of an old Motown song came through.

Stacy was twenty. We met online, talked a lot, hit it off. I wasn’t sure she would go for me. I was a bit older, a little awkward. Turns out she was just as awkward. Two book nerds who found we hit it off pretty well over coffee.

She was pretty; sort of fair skinned, green eyed, very short reddish brown hair parted neatly with bangs that were swept to the side and held back with a barrette. She was that perfect (at least for me) edge of just a little chubby. The slightest little belly and a plump bottom and chubby cheeks and cupid bow lips. She wore a light blue shirt with some band name on it I’ve never heard of and a smart little denim skirt. Knee high socks and Chucks. Cute. Adorable even. Big bright eyes and lip-glossed lips.
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Summer Sleeps in Winter Orbit

It had been three weeks and Mars High Orbit still just felt wrong. The sensors all checked out. Gravity was right, air mix was good, temperature was fine. Still something undefinable felt off. Maybe it was the fact that Mars was such an industrial world, not bound by the same rules that made Earth’s various orbital unions so clean and beautiful. Mars orbit was riddled with riffraff trade ships, derelict stations, various debris that formed a sort of muddy ring around the once red planet.

His name was Baker and he had another three weeks to wait until Mars was in the right position for him to start back towards Earth. Orbiting Mars was like being in one of those month long winters in cities near Earth’s poles he read about. He could quite shake the feeling of being cold, no matter how much he fiddled with the environmental controls.

As much as he hated the orbit, he couldn’t go down to Mars to sleep anyhow. Too expensive, too foreign, too crowded, too scary. His little ship was his home, anyway. His womb, his world. 90 meters long by 10 meters wide, split into three even 30 by 10 meter sections. Control and Engineering in the front, Sleep and Entertainment in the middle, and in the back was Food and Medical as well as Waste.

It was in that aft section that “she” waited.

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Science Fiction/Erotica – The Long Run

I was 20 cycles old when I got my first ship. My father did “The Long Run” just before I was born. Ten years from Mars high orbit to various mining colonies and then on to Io and back. He missed my early childhood, but came back with one million credits.

I always wanted to make the long run. There was a certain devotion it took and a certain respect you got if you made it, plus the money of course. As much as I longed for the money and the adventure I was also afraid. There were these nightmares, dreams where I was out there in the inky blackness alone. I’m in a walksuit and I have enough oxygen and water for a few days, but I am out in the big black, the space between the edge of the Asteroid Belt and Jupiter. Hundreds of millions of kilometers from any outpost. Not even a remote chance of being saved.

That’s why I vowed never to go up alone.

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