“Gather around, guys. I want y’all to repeat what I just said so I know you know what you gotta do.”

It was so dark I couldn’t see a damned thing, but I knew I wasn’t the only one Luke was annoying. I’d practically heard the group eyeroll that his whip cracking had elicited. Tonight’s challenge was supposed to be fun but, as usual, he was turning it into a military exercise. Continue reading “Scarecrow”

Just a Spoonful of Sugar

I hadn’t expected Dean to be naked when I walked through the front door, but there he was. Standing at the bottom of the stairs with his back to me, broad-shouldered, firm cheeked and tight thighed. One of his arms was bent, his hand hidden in front of him. I wondered if he was hiding something from me, or if he was…no. If he was doing that, his arm wouldn’t be so still. Continue reading “Just a Spoonful of Sugar”

One Day, You’ll Learn

My muscles twitch, making my body tremble. I shake so hard, I hear the wooden frame of the bed rattle. Sweat snakes down my ribs and waist, pooling on the sheet beneath me and making the small of my back itch. I’m soaked with the sheen of anticipation, of struggle. Of the fruitless attempts to retreat from the punishment my questionable behaviour has earned me. Continue reading “One Day, You’ll Learn”


“Just the one, today, love! Scribble your name in the box there for me, would you?”

The delivery guy handed me a little tablet, and a plastic pen dangling on a springy coil. As usual, my signature was hastily done and barely registered by the device, but who gave a fuck about that? I shoved the thing back at him and all but tore the package from his hands, saying thank you despite the fact that the door had already slammed in his face.

I know, that was super rude of me, but I’d been waiting weeks for this thing to arrive. Continue reading “Poseidon”

That Thing She Does

I don’t know why she still does this to me.

Partners come and go. They always have and always will. Some of them leave a lasting impression, whether it’s something as simple as introducing you to your favourite position to be fucked in, to the big stuff, like helping your heart heal after some careless fucker broke it. They teach you, and help you grow. Continue reading “That Thing She Does”

A Taste for the Exotic

Drawing my silk gloves over my fingers and to my elbows, I gazed out at the beautiful scene before me. From the balcony, I could see almost half of the estate. The sun was just sinking behind the tall trees, it’s last hurrah making the koi pond glitter as though it was filled with diamonds.

A faint, far-off roar caught my ear and, closer, the discordant squawk of startled macaws. It was feeding time for my beautiful pets. And it was playtime for me. Continue reading “A Taste for the Exotic”

Last Man Standing

“Okay, we’re gonna play a game!”

I paused for a second or two, teeth poised not a centimetre away from my slice of pizza. Polly was on her feet by the day bed looking as excitable as a puppy. The other guys glanced at her, then away, getting on with what they were doing. I did the same, ripping into the pizza and chewing while I watched Vince play on the Wii. Continue reading “Last Man Standing”

Laundry Day

Bare legs on an unmade white bed

Have you ever choked on your heartbeat? Has anything ever caught your breath right at the end of an exhale, making you feel faint? Nauseous and weak, like your legs are suddenly too jellylike to support your weight?

This happened to me not two minutes ago, right on the other side of the door I’m standing outside of. I’m still suffering from a riotous pulse, burning lungs, shaking legs and an ache so strong in my groin it might well kill me. Continue reading “Laundry Day”

The Confessional

God was six days sober
On the night that she was born
To the glistening star of a bible class
An icon now in religious porn
She was Alice through the glory hole
An ejaculate misconception
Disney-esque, the high priestess
Of greed and deepest dark deception

Verse from “Libertina Grimm” from the album “Thornography” by Cradle of Filth

Cum dripped down the latticed partition, making a network of sticky webs in the tiny crosses that had been carved from the wood. Libertina heard the sharp rip of a zip-fly, an embarrassed laugh, the scrape of curtain rings on a rusted metal pole. Low mumbles, soft laughing, back slapping. Continue reading “The Confessional”