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Anna looked through the icy glass of her bedroom window. Outside the garden was quickly turning white. Snow filtered through the trees, ivory-coated branches crisscrossing into a ghostly spider net against the greylight sky. A single sparrow fluttered by, alighted on a frosted branch and flecked its wings in a silvery shudder.
Anna stared into the deepening white veils that covered the earth. Images of the night flickered through her imagination. His strong hands, the burnished wood of the brush, her cries, his dark eyes, the reddened skin in the mirror, the stinging pain, the lips ….
With each image she felt vibrating within feelings that slipped from one emotion to the next. Regret moved to sorrow, coldness melted into warmth, pain became anger only to become contentment. And through the shifting sands of her soul her body ached with a burning she had never known. She sighed, attempting to break free from the clasp of the liquid pool of her own senses. Yet beneath these currents there was a feeling of peace, the undeniable knowing that she had found something she had never known before, a coming home, a rightness of what had happened ….
S & M
S and M. These initials, emblematic of their nomme de plumes, were a calculated choice. Simple in their design and elegant of voice, it allowed both reader and writer to choose at any moment whether tales told was of person or not. For a single letter can represent a thousand words — much as a single picture from another angle is also worth a thousand words. So the letters could be themselves or not. The beauty of it all is that the choosing of the letter’s meaning is dependent on nothing more than whim or mood, a time in one’s personal history, or a simple reflection of present past. The tales could be read — and re-read — and as all stories are, be seen from completely different perspectives — at times simply a tale, a childhood fable of distant lands and people — princes and princesses, castles and palaces, or it could be seen as the most striking of autobiographies; or better yet prophecy — a future forward of a most intimate sharing of delicacy and hurt. The irony that the two names reduced to S and M was not lost on either. For who they were, was well known to both, and a single letter was as much truth as metaphor — an endless mirror in which to see each, the other, and the self ….
Eighteenth Birthday Blues
By Phil K
At the sound of her father’s car in the driveway Katie froze. All day she’d known she was in deep trouble – and now it was here.
This wasn’t at all usual. Normally, her Dad getting home was one of her favourite moments in the day. She’d run downstairs as he opened the front door, straight into his arms, and he’d hug her and say “Hey Katie – how’s my favorite girl?” But today seemed likely to be rather different.
And it should have all been so wonderful, too – because this was the week of her eighteenth birthday. An event she’d been looking forward to for ages.
How could it all have gone so wrong? ….
She glanced over at the passenger seat. He slept peacefully … his head cradled in the half circle of the little polka-dot travel pillow he had scoffed at when she had bought it … but now insisted it be part of the “packing list.” She smiled and shook her head … both in amusement and to try keep the cobwebs from becoming any worse. She was sleepy and suddenly she heard his voice echo around in her head.
“When you get tired … WAKE me up!”
She smiled again. Always the dominant one. Well, she would NOT awaken him for at least another hour. He was exhausted and deserved this time of respite ….
By Phil K
I’ve known Adele since we were at school together. She was only a month or two older than me, but with her long-legged elegant looks and sophisticated attitude she seemed far more mature. The boys all flocked round her, but she treated them with a cool disdain which, of course, just made them all the more eager. And me? Well, I was Addy’s best friend. Why she chose me, I’ve never been quite sure. Except that, as you’ve maybe noticed, exceptionally attractive girls quite often like to have a less attractive one tagging along, just to make them look all the lovelier by contrast. Not that I’m hideous, not by a long way. Being as objective about it as I can, I’m actually not bad-looking. But I’m not in Addy’s class. As the saying goes, she’d fallen out of the drop-dead gorgeous tree and hit every branch on the way down ….
Never Say No
She was curled in a ball on the bed, sobbing, one hand on her red, sore bottom. She didn’t know what happened. She had no idea what had come over her. How could she POSSIBLY have been that stupid?
She thought back to earlier tonight. She had gotten in his face, challenging him in every way, shape, and form, and very, very clearly spoken.
Shock flashed across his face and then passed. Cold determination settled into place as he took in her exceptionally belligerent, challenging body language. Her glare dared him to move ….
Hand-in-hand, they walked barefoot down the beach. The sand was soft and warm, the sunlight reflecting in gorgeous oranges and pinks off of the water, and the waves were gently lulling as the rolled and rumbled up over their feet. He pulled her close to his side, and she nestled into his embrace as they continued their stroll. Going nowhere in particular, they simply enjoyed the sense of love, peace, and joy.
Suddenly, she started tugging against his hand. She knew better than to pull away from him, but she started pulling him in the direction she was drawn. The gentle wind was blowing through the light, linen shirt she was wearing, and her capris rustled as well. Laughing, he gave in to her tug, and allowed himself to be towed along. Crouching down, laughing with glee, she offered him a perfectly formed conch shell. Still laughing as he held it up to his ear like a phone, she pretended to answer the other line ….
Emotionally spent, she watched the sunset from her picnic table perch in the middle of the park. The light summer breeze was cool against her tear-stained cheeks, and she had wrapped her arms around her legs. Sitting on top of the table, knees curled into her chest, she was completely motionless. Her eyes were puffy and bloodshot, her breathing sporadically shaky, and her pain apparent from her body language. Almost mindlessly, she pressed “Ignore” for about the tenth time as her phone rang AGAIN.
The sunset was beautiful; that couldn’t be denied. She took no enjoyment in it; instead, she simply observed it. She felt cold, detatched from the world around her, as if she were viewing it on a movie screen ….
His and Hers
“Go pick something.”
Even hearing the cue made her feel calmer, before she’d even been touched. She was not alone. At times like this, when the feelings were bad, sometimes, that was all that mattered.
She got to her feet, slowly, allowing the dizziness to dissipate as she stood. The walls seemed to back away as she passed them by, stepping towards the bedroom and through the doorway, approaching His Closet as anxious energy filtered through her veins. She felt somewhat robotic, not quite connected. She saw her hand on the knob of the armoire door and felt the coldness of the metal, but somehow, she felt separated from it ….
By Sophie Gray
The truth is, I had wanted it. Dreamt of it. Profoundly craved it.
Asked for it.
“You’ve been asking for this, little girl,” you reminded me. “Come here.” The command was gentle but held resolve.
My feet moved me timidly to stand between your knees, my eyes lowered. Somewhere between over there and right here, my want had dissolved into uncertainty.
Over there, it was just a thought. A hunger. To be taken to that blissful place beyond tears. To be taken there by you, even if it meant going against my will.
Right here, it was being given to me. My eyes were lowered, but I raised them momentarily to yours to seek my reassurance.
And your eyes communicated back. It was okay, and I was ready ….
Duke of Hazard
By Missy Doright
“What’s the matter, Renee? You look like you just saw a ghost!”
“Remember the chem exam I took hung over, last Wednesday?”
“Um, yeah,” replied a puzzled Niki. Niki was Renee’s roommate and best friend and was forever trying to get her to relax and enjoy her college years more.
“I got a 42 on it … which brought my grade to a C-”
“Yeah, so? You’ll bring it up.”
“No, I won’t, unfortunately. I emailed Professor Yarren and asked if I had any chance of bringing my grade up to a B, and he said not even if I got 100s on the last two tests. Which means I’m dead.”
Renee dropped her head into her folded arms on her desk with a deep sigh of remorse.
“Oh c’mon, Renee! You’re not gonna be dead. Your dad might yell at you, but that’s about all. Besides, your mom won’t want anything to ruin Thanksgiving. You’ll be fine.”
“You don’t know my dad ….
Man vs. Machine
All she wanted was a decent guy who would love her the way her Dad did … unconditionally. He didn’t care if she gained a few pounds or if she had a bad hair day. It never mattered to him. But what did matter to him very much was that she treat him with respect. Disrespect, he felt, was bad for her character and could adversely affect her adult life.
Being an honest man with traditional values, he believed that if you spare the rod, you spoil the child. Needless to say, Janet was never spoiled, and although they hurt like hell, her spankings were a strange mix of emotions that she would not fully understand until years later.
So it was when she was online watching an endless drivel of half-hearted, unsatisfying “self-spanking” videos on some free tube site that she saw the ad.
No cutie-pie kitchy name; it was simply referred to as the Spanking Machine ….
A Lesson Well Learned
I was driving home in Eastern Tennessee on a Friday night. It was 10:30, and I knew my wife was going to be somewhat upset with me for being so late. I had stopped by the bar with my buddies for a couple of beers after work. My wife, Betty, was ok with this but told me to be home no later than 9. I knew that I was going to get my ass blistered when I got home.
Our relationship was one that included domestic discipline, and this has always worked in keeping our marriage strong. She’s the dominant female, and I’m the submissive. And I like it that way, but I was not looking forward to what was waiting for me when I got home. I knew what I was in store for — a very hard dose of her razor strap ….