Mrs. Jones is a 42-year-old physiotherapist, married to a wealthy lawyer whom she had a son with. She named her son Jimmy and he is currently 19 years old. Despite giving birth at a young age and unlike most moms, Mrs. Jones had a great tendency to improve the look and feel of her body. Many years have gone by and not a single time where her husband, Jared w...
Author's Note I recently started a loose set of dystopian, near-future, speculative fiction stories in a series called 'Sara's Secret War'. The overall collection focuses on an all-female group of revolutionaries, as they take up arms in a fight against a corrupt and oppressive government. The first tale in the series, 'Sabine, Mother of the Revolution',...
My Dearest Rachael, When I can, when I am not chasing down Tyrell's latest creations, I spend my time daydreaming of you and our brief time together in 2020, whenever I walk through this crowded, congested, dangerous, neon-lit, cyberpunk dystopian metropolis. Where did the time go? Even though it is 2033, I can still see us in 2020, shortly after you esc...
A Sara's Secret War Story * Author's Note The first story I ever wrote on this site was a tale called Sara's Secret Crush. It eventually evolved into a trilogy and a prequel. But as first efforts often go, it was not my best work. As cringe-worthy as that first effort was, I do like the speculative future aspect of the story and the dystopian world in whi...
**It takes a while, because it sort of a MF love story, but one with a big twist. And it follows the contours of a very much true story** * The academic job market is tough, especially for an English major. The problem is that one becomes invested, you catch the learning bug. Luke caught that bug early. Coming from a small town like Robins, Iowa, there was...
In a dystopian future, women sell their bodies and their breast milk to help feed a starving populace. Desperation causes many women to sign up for a well paying job involving being impregnated and eventually milked. Anna opened her eyes but could only see blackness. A soft, silky blindfold covered the top half of her face. A ball gag was pressed between he...
“Stanley Kubrick’s dystopian masterpiece – Beethoven, ultraviolence and the old in-out in-out” was how it was advertised. The midnight showing had definitely attracted quite a crowd. Everyone was in an excited mood, chatting with their friends, looking forward to the film. There was, Lara noticed, a preponderance of men. Quite a few of them wore their ‘droog...
CAUTION: This story is totally unlike most of what I write on this site. It is about slavery and abuse of women, but it might come to happen some day in a dystopian society. Hopefully, the circumstances described here will never be a fact of life in this country or anywhere else. "This one runs even slower than the last one," Ted shouted. "That's probab...
Author's note: This story is mainly a description of what it might be like to be a ponygirl slave, for which purposes it is set in a vague dystopian world in which ponygirl slaves are objects of use, and not selves to be cared for. There has been a conscious attempt to cover all aspects of such a life, including those that I would have been inclined to shy a...
I was on a flight from Vancouver to San Francisco feeling restless and I was anxious to get back home. I tried to get some writing done on the plane, but I couldn't concentrate. There was a father with his young son in the seat behind me constantly crying and kicking my seat. I tried to type, but my energy was gone, so I just stared at the blank screen in fr...