Sometimes when I clean house, I like to say I cleaned it spotless. It's never really true. Somewhere in the back of recollection, we all think of one thing when we hear that phrase. It will never be spotless. On the kitchen floor is a dark spot on the wood. We've tried washing it, we've tried different chemicals. Nothing seems to remove it. Mr. Clean ain't...
My sister Kathleen is a real bitch. I don't know where she got the idea that she is the center of the universe, but she acts like anything she does is the most important thing going on. Everyone has to do what she wants, and she gets all huffy when they don't. Case in point: one afternoon, a few weeks ago, Kathleen came home after shopping, as I was getting...
Lisa was dressed to kill. She came downstairs wearing a short flared black skirt that was a good 4 to 5 inches above her knees. Since it was a hot evening she had a silver tube top tucked into the skirt. Her dark brown hair shined against the silver top. Very simple, yet more than hot in appearance. She has an apple ass and legs that go all the way up to it....
Helios' midday sun shone with an oppressive heat across Daleford, as it cooked the inhabitants into a lazy stupor. The Baron's guards had discarded their armour, elderly folk squabbled for troughs to bathe in and priest prayed to Ull for a cooler respite. Cole was no exception, his bovine ears flapped to try to circulate a breeze as he dragged his hooves and...
This is the third in my book club series. The book club is the same but the characters are different. All characters are over the age of eighteen. * My name is Rita. Holly and I have been friends for ten years. Like the others in the book club, we are both recent empty nesters in our mid-forties. Holly and I are good friends but have very different person...
(Thanks to Jen Lit Girl for the edit.) * A pile of shit sat on her linoleum floor. At least it looked like shit; big, throbbing, and steaming. The problem was shit wasn't supposed to move, except out of one's ass. Now, in her past, Eve had met men who held certain fetishes related to the shit pile on her floor. She usually broke up with them (almost immed...
AUTHOR NOTE: I think every female submissive has had the delicious thought (especially since Mad Men came out) of that perfect housewife image-selfless, caring, perfectly coiffed, with the perfect dinner, and completely powerless against her dominant husband...and what he might do to her because he can...Enjoy! ***** "Honey? I'm home..." He unlocked the...
Nanny's house was a small, two bedrooms, wooden framed one near a cotton mill. She and my great-grandfather had worked at the mill. Back in those days, the companies felt it was best to have workers that lived near the mills. They built what was called mill villages, dozens and hundreds of basic houses near their plants. Then they sold them to the workers, t...
What a great day I would have. I was in my room, laying in bed when my phone rang. I answered it. "Hello," I said. "Who is this?" "Hello Vinod," the caller said. "It's Aunty Manori." "Yes," I said. "I remember you. Naveduni's mom. What's up?" There was a brief pause before she proceeded with her statement. "So," Manori said. "I heard that you are looki...
Neither Tracey nor Buttercup went to work in the factory the following day: the excuse being that they needed to exchange the proceeds of their day’s labour for more immediately edible items. Neither of them could live on chicken alone. They sought out Theta Seven Six Seven Five. She was very impressed by the wealth of returns the girls had got from their s...