The weathered grey stone of this chapel is married to the grey hillside like a blade to its handle; I, I have been priest of this chapel for thirty years; I grow as weathered and gray as the hillside and the chapel and the walls of grey cloud which surround it. The weeks pass in peace, until my flock visit me on Sundays for a brief, climactic hour and then l...
The first thing she noticed as she regained her consciousness was the wall clock. 45 minutes. 45 minutes ago she had stepped into this house confident that she will talk to her old neighbor and ask him to give her time to pay off her EX-BF's debts. How had she managed to reach this point? Annette thought dazed as felt the old man slurp at her open cunt and f...
I'm the worst kind of FaceBook Friend you can imagine. Yup, you heard me, I'm a devil. I have multiple identities and they are all complete lies. I am not at all what I appear to be; shock, horror, I hear you say. Every identity, every address, everything I assert is a fake. I lie about everything, literally everything. I can be controlling through my pret...
I'd like to thank capecodmercury for his permission to use his characters. This story is based on the story, Truth & Consequences, which I recommend highly. It was a letter by a wife, who had cheated, to her husband. It detailed her actions and feelings during and after she was caught with her lover. This story is *my* take on the husband's response. It in n...
Chapter Three: Hale Baron Hale of Hawkshead, passed the reins of his horse to a waiting groom and, pausing to clap the lad on the shoulder, exited the stable yard in the direction of the Hawkshead Keep. Though it would have encompassed barely a tithe of the immense bulk of Castle Grey—Hale's childhood home—the Keep was still a forbidding structure. The fir...
After I'd researched the science behind it and finally constructed it, the first question, of course, was how to put it to use . . . ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The campus gleamed on this September afternoon, warm, clear and a bit breezy. I fit into the scene, my old t-shirt and jeans might seem a bit bizarre should anyone care to closely inspect m...
The sun was warm and the air, with its sweet, melodious fragrances, promised of a lovely spring at its heels. The winter was almost over, and a few leaves had sprung to life, swaying softly in little clutters spread sparsely upon the barren branches of the trees. The 'weeping' willow was the odd-one-out amid his Pine buddies but stood proudly like a rose amo...
Big booty Lisa. That's my nickname for my darling wife Lisa Tremblay Saint-Germain. The gorgeous Quebec woman who literally saved me from myself. My name is Maurice Saint-Germain. A big and tall Black man of Haitian descent living in the City of Ottawa, Province of Ontario. I moved here five years ago, just a cocky young Black guy from Boston, Massachusetts,...
Chapter Four THE LOST DECADES Eighteen years. Eighteen years. Presidents and Prime Ministers come and go. Fashions and fads peak and disappear into obscurity. Entertainers and athletes rise to high acclaim only to meld back into third-rate obscurity. The Internet and cellular telephones seemingly came out of the thin air, going from being an expensive no...
This story is not intended for children and if you are not old enough to read sexually explicit material, go away. This story features some elements of female domination (femdom), cross-dressing (CD), mild bondage, Trangender (TG) and a few other fantasies of mine. I hope you find it entertaining, but if you might be offended, stop reading and do something e...