Truth revealed Stories

The next morning Amanda was sitting at the table with her parents enjoying her breakfast. “How was movie night at Jenny’s?” asked her mother. “It was a lot of fun.” Amanda smiled recalling really what she was doing last night. “And how was your team-building guys night at Mr. Reynolds’ house?” her mother asked her father. Amanda's fork clattered onto her plate. "Are you alright, sweetie?" her mother asked, noticing Amanda...

Pounding music. She’s dancing, always packing, a grunge-goth Mistress of tuneless nihilism. Torn fishnets, punk attitude, air punches. Shrieking the lyrics: fuck government, fuck Jesus, fuck fake. She sneers, knows I’m that preppy princess from happy-snappy election pics. Irresistible, she circles her prey. Tongue violates my mouth. Fingers find my knickerless pussy. Stunned by oozing acceptance of subversive seduction, s...

I walked home from Brenda’s with a renewed spring in my step. My pussy soreness was now numbed, and my bottom felt warm; it had a glow within it. Playing on my Walkman was Michael Jackson’s Bad album. It was his latest, and, despite the title, it was very good; my feet popping alone to the tune. I found myself dancing into the house, which was almost the opposite of how I left it this morning. Mum was there in the kitchen...