When he walked into the room, my eyes rolled down like a waterfall, crashing and widening in response to the bulge that showed clearly through the wide netted fabric of his boxer briefs. He pulsed it a few times, causing the black cotton to expand, holes stretching, which led me to the awareness of my…
“This is where they brought me when I was sixteen.” Her touch was like subtle, continuous static electricity, as she held my hand and led me deeper into the asylum. It was empty now, twenty years later. After all the bad publicity, they’d closed their doors forever in October of ’99. “What were your parents…
If you’d rather listen… He pulled over at the head of the trail and told me to take off all of my clothes. Looking at him with incredulity, I opened my mouth to argue…but thought better of it. This was a punishment, and it was meant to be as uncomfortable as he could make it.…
Story originally published as “Traffic Stop” on the Lustful Literate website, Feb. 13, 2012.
Frigid. That’s what the son-of-a-bitch had left me with. You’re too frigid for me. You lack enthusiasm in the bedroom. You’re too formal about everything. It has to be your way…it has to be just so… I can’t take it anymore. And then he got up from the table, leaving a perfectly good, still steaming,…
