Chapter 7 – Recovery {AUTHOR'S NOTE: - Apologies to my few ardent fans about the delay in publishing Chapter 7 of Emma's Saga. Blame holidays, pressure of work, lack of time for research, and writer's block – in no particular order. Emma doesn't get fucked a lot in the next few chapters, but I'm still developing some important characters. Chapters 8 to 11 f...
Chapter 3 -- Spokeswoman Lee-Dolkivna Upon receiving the call from the chief inspector, Spokeswoman Kimberly Lee-Dolkivna wrote down the pertinent information: that a Colombian drug courier had been arrested with a kilo of cocaine in pellets concealed in her stomach, that she had undergone an initial interview, and that a Spanish-speaker needed to go to the...
Fucking colonels. I fucking hate colonels. They're always coming up with stupid shit to do; they feel like they have to show everyone they're in charge, and so they come up with bullshit. Thanks to our fuckhead Colonel, my platoon was out in the field doing "non-lethal weapons" training. Hey, dickhead! We're Marines, remember? We're lethal. It was the s...
It was a typical weekday night as I drove home from work. As has always been the case for the past year Christina sat next to me in the passenger seat. We conversed enjoyably about the various events of our day, music from her favorite radio station playing softly in the background. She was the head of the paralegal department in the law firm where I was a s...
Simon staggered in for work the day after the slave auction, his body stiff and sore. Mr Berne and the others in the post room were shocked to see the sissy's bruised and lacerated buttocks. Barry's stiff cock betrayed his feelings; whipping and torture excited him. His sadistic nature relished the thought of thrashing Sissy senseless. Sissy was his fuck t...
Prologue Horst Wessel considered himself a brave man. He seldom experienced fear, having become adept at avoiding situations likely to put him to the test. Instead, he sought those which guaranteed him power, and exploited them to the utmost. Tonight though, things had not begun well. Not well at all. As he left the tenement in which he lived, there had b...
Sometimes major events result from the smallest of consequences. For want of a shoe a horse was lost. For want of a horse a kingdom was lost. Everyone knows that scenario. The situation that ensnared my wife Emily, and to a lesser extent, myself began with a trip to New York City. It was to be a day away from our suburban existence, the shops, a show, a stro...
I think this story has something for most people except lovers of shallow sex, willing cuckolds or 'reconciliation at no cost' types. It will particularly appeal to people like me that have a strong sense of justice. Remember the second B, in BTB can have two meanings. Like my other stories, I have taken a familiar idea and added what I think is a new twist...
Several weeks had passed since "curtain call" as I had come to refer to it. I had seen Mrs. B on numerous occasions since, briefly; just the usual greetings and comments. Nothing more was said about the incident. Danny and I were busy planning a weekend camping trip with a few of the guys in the neighborhood. This was a yearly event sponsored by one of the c...
Chapter 02 -- The holding cell The metal detector went off when she tried to go through screening. The airport employee called over the tough-looking female officer, the one who shared Trish' last name. The island cop's eyes scanned Trish with a strange expression; curiosity mixed with impatience and a hint of contempt. The cop grabbed Trish by the shoulde...