"Please... find my husband, Mr. Cross," the woman in white asked as she lit a cigarette. I'd rather shoot him. I reflected. He doesn't deserve you. Whoever the bastard might be. I'll admit, it wasn't the first time a dame walked through those doors. But this was different. God damn, even her scent hit like a drunken trucker. Her perfume stuck to my skin while burning into my core. Chemical warfare never smelled so good. M...

"Did you bring those references?" I blink. This conversation couldn't get any weirder. Sure it seemed like an interview. We sat in an office. I tried not to keep adjusting my tie. And she reviewed papers nearly sorted in a small manilla folder. The only clue to the utter insanity of the situation was the lack of a resume. No, instead of my work history, she perused glossy 8 by 10 photos of my nude body in exacting positio...

The following entry is reserved for the highest levels. We can only speculate as to why the creature wrote this down. Hand delivered to our agent in upstate New York. The messenger then burst into flames. This is an exact duplicate of the original note. Any further questions may be directed to Xavier Costello. I wonder at what age Mary knew. Was the knowledge always a part of her? From infancy, did the holy mother grow in...

Stupid. Crying in here is stupid. I should have known better than to come in at all today. Not after last night. How could I? How could I do my job with the image of Bryce, naked, fully erect, and standing there clueless? Same with my sister, using a velvet burgundy sofa cushion for her knees. Both are totally still. Maybe they thought I wouldn't notice her sky-blue fingertips wrapped around his cock. Or maybe it was just...

Love - Is a massive cock. A pornographic thing. Stretched, pulsing, bouncing at your eye level (or maybe mouth). Supposedly natural. But why must it be endured in the public garden? Like a detailed carving of once humble Priapus adorning the fountain. Such sights catch the eye. Inciting curious envy or wild imagining... To the voyeur. But what of the wielder? No weapon can be greater. No tempered steel compares to the sca...

Scene 1 "Are you all fucking stupid!" I was shouting. Couldn't stop myself. I'd put this team together, promised we'd be the people to get this shit done. Greg, my boss, had his fresh enema grin plastered on his face when I got the project. I thought he was jealous. But no! He knew! The bastard knew. This was a trap. Changed deadlines, conflicting expectations, and ignored requests for clarity. Greg muttered if I couldn't...

"Abby, I'm home," I wasn't supposed to be. It was going to be a great evening and a better night. My off-the-shoulder midnight-black evening gown with a delicious split for easy access was covered in mud. I picked off a burr stuck to my perfectly straightened hair. Am I proud I spent the evening hiding from Dylan's wife? No. Did it excite me? I plead the fifth. The worst part was listening to him fucking her. He had no ch...

I force obscene blasphemies from your lips. Filling your body as I will. As no other can. You and I. We. Ahhhhh... I feel them. Brittle leather straps firmly wrapped about our wrists. Irrelevant. Your limbs contort, twisting, battered by waves of wicked pleasure. Forgo faith. Banish reason. Abandon Hope. Very Good... Now You belong to me Suffer Gasp BEG Who knew you'd be such a hungry little slut? Me of course But I'll gr...

Part I- Bold “Mistress! Please, I beg you! Don’t punish the wench.” Lady Helen Paris didn’t bother turning. She knew exactly who would dare burst into her private chamber. Ol’ Nan raised Helen since childhood, sitting on her father’s dock as the seasons drifted. Teaching right and wrong. Once Helen got a little older, the wily old woman shielded the rebellious charge from encouraging various fishermen. Big men, rough, and...

Ok, so I wasn’t allowed here. Technically, I’m supposed to be caged at West Chester State Penitentiary, a dozen zip codes east. But in these woods, I’m living fine and free. Momma taught me how to forage. These plants burn, those smooth, and the red berries here coat the tongue without closing my throat. Not that I mind the occasional desperate gasp for air. Now I’d love to tell ya I’ve been totally one with mother nature...

One white plate, infused with aqua blue flowers blooming across a ceramic surface, lays discarded at the bottom of the sink. Red ketchup stains crusted over the floral pattern. At the same time, a relatively clean glass keeps it company, mere feet from the cupboard where both should live. I feel my lips stretch into a smile. I’ve asked him before, multiple times, to put the dishes away when he was done. But it would not d...

“Well, you’re a big ol’ boy, aren’t ya, hon?” Mrs. Carr’s blond curls bounce lightly as her misty blue eyes peer upwards from behind the door chain. Plump red cheeks shift as she flashes a pearl smile. “Brought me some goodies?” “Uhhh,” I offer. I’m not great at talking to people, in general, or with friends even. It's why I signed up for Grocer-E-Run. Most times, all I gotta do is drop off a few bags, blast the AC, keep...

………………………………………… CODE INTERCEPTED ………………………………………………… CRYPTO SEQUENCE INITIATED PROCESSING 01001101 01100101 01110011 01101101 01100101 01110010 00100000 01010010 01100101 01101100 01100101 01100001 01110011 01100101 …… 001001M010101E010101S0010M ME0101SMER RE01LEA0SE MESMER RELEASE ……………………………………………………….. AUDIO DECODED: DATA CONFIRMED ORIGIN - DE SADE Terrorist Cell: Subject – Psychological Unraveling Session 4 ………………………...

"He's a fucking monster! An asshole of seismic proportions. What the hell are you thinking, Lindsay?" I'm not usually so reserved in my views, but we were at work. "It's a misunderstanding," her vacant, glazed expression as she curls her disheveled hair tells me precisely what Conor did to convince her. "Right. There's some other reason you found soaked purple panties in his briefcase. Is Conor finding himself Lin? Discov...

Okay, I've got a really dark confession to make. I... hate the holidays! Okay, not hate. But I'm super conflicted. I mean, the food's great. Who doesn't want turkey, or yams, or pies? God, I love pies. Warm, wet, and sticky, what could be better? And decorating! That's my superpower. With mere printed paper and rusted scissors, I'll forge a blizzard of handmade snowflakes that will bring literal tears to your eyes. A wint...