Watchers
Sally sits between them, her skirt an inch above her knee, her blouse buttoned to her chin, her hair neatly combed to either side of her parting. At first there is slight concern at how they might be seen; Paul … Continue reading
Sally sits between them, her skirt an inch above her knee, her blouse buttoned to her chin, her hair neatly combed to either side of her parting. At first there is slight concern at how they might be seen; Paul … Continue reading
I am at a loss as to what kind of warning I should put at the beginning of this piece. Suffice to say it was not written with any intent to arouse – as much of my work is. This … Continue reading
WARNING: this piece contains themes of incest, humiliation, and rape. Please use your best judgement in deciding whether to read on. • • • • • Across the evenly raked gravel, Irina emerged from the car and stood, with attempted … Continue reading
The building was just three floors. Three floors, three apartments apiece. Nine little habitats. Discounting her own dusty corners, that made for eight possible sources. Eight abodes which, from brief glances through left-open front doors were all fairly similar. Dingy, … Continue reading
This piece was written as part of Fantasy Pride Day, which is being hosted by Remittance Girl in order to help people celebrate and enjoy their fantasies, without shame. As it happens, I have several different non-consent fantasies that I … Continue reading
The office was high up, indicating a certain seniority, and walled in glass on two sides. The view of the Thames was usually grey and damp, but occasionally glimmers of sunlight lit up the sky and reflected in inexpensive decoration … Continue reading
The rain dripped, atmospherically, from the ripped plastic awning and her cigarette went out with a hiss. “Fuck…” She muttered, already rummaging in her bag for another. It was out of character. When asked, she described herself as a social … Continue reading
The room was white. Well, the box. Enclosed. Oh so silent. Certainly solitary. She hadn’t been sure what to wear. Did it matter? Would they be able to see? She was neurotic enough to fear the embarrassment if she overdressed. … Continue reading
“In the ocean, washing off my name from your throat” – The Shrine / An Argument, Fleet Foxes Scribe me. Spank me. Scratch me. Beat me. Bind me. Bruise me. Force me. Fuck me. Fill me. Hold me. Have me. … Continue reading
Darling, I didn’t want to wake you, but I need to run something by you before you go to work… I’ve been thinking a lot about us. About our marriage. About our home… About our sex life. Thank you for … Continue reading