This is my very first attempt at this sort of writing, and also my first submission. Please go kindly on me. Marphisa looked at her toes, so unfamiliar in these shiny, black, patent leather shoes. How could this happen? How could fate be so cruel as to make her live through this day, when she hadn't yet reached her eighth birthday? As Marphisa looked out...
CHAPTER 1 I met him in Paris, the most romantic city in the world. We were both spending a bit of time after finishing school. I was taking a year before university, he had just the summer after leaving school and before starting work. Two eighteen-year olds out in the world. He thought I was French and local because of the way I was talking with some othe...
Maman Brigette: a selection of entries from the journal of Gerard D'Estaing, mid-shipman on the slave ship 'Le Saphir' . Sanatorium for the Insane, Paris, 2 Feb 1788 I cursed the day that I met Captain Bernard Dugarry. What a fateful decision, made over too many cognacs in a tavern in La Rochelle, though it seemed the right one at the time. I had been disc...
Note: This is fiction, intended to entertain readers. It has graphic lesbian sex scenes. There's also domination and submission in this story. If you can't legally view this, please don't! Any resemblance between these characters and any person is coincidental. o0O0o It was another 25 minutes, even with the light traffic, before we arrived at my two-level,...
I am a demimondaine, what you would call a prostitute, a whore, a harlot, but I prefer to see myself as a person who provides a service, an exclusive service to those people who need it and can afford me. This story is of how I came to be what I am. All I could ever remember from a very young age was life in the mansion in Storyville where Maman and Grandem...
"Je dois y aller, maman, sinon je vais manquer le train. D'accord, d'accord, Lisa. On se revoit demain matin. Lisa ? Oui maman ? Quelle grosseur ?" Lisa soupira. "Maman, tu sais que je n'aime pas trop discuter de ça... Quelle grosseur, Lisa ?" ... Gros comment, maintenant ? Je... je ne sais pas vraiment. Tu sais, c'est du su...
Isolde meets Baron Samedi I woke up in a Graveyard. I was not in King Henry's Court at ALL! Somehow I had been summoned and many people had their bodies up and dancing...Chanting in a strange language I couldn't understand...beautiful bursts of song and laughter. An exotic and beautiful black woman was leading them. She smiled at me, and softly came to kiss...
As promised, here is the first installment of Buster's Story. It is nearly 100 years in the past. This is as much a voyage for me as it is for you. I hope you enjoy the story. It is a little slower paced. Let me know what you think. He ran through the woods, not caring that he scared deer or elk out of their daytime hides. He ran for the pure enjoyment o...
Carcassonne, Chapter Three – Come One, Come All © Bad Hobbit I called for Rodrigo. The women began to grab for the bedclothes to cover their nakedness, but I reminded them that my manservant had closely inspected their most private regions earlier this very evening. When Rodrigo entered, he brought hot water, wine, cheeses, bread and fruits that had been p...
This is part 2 of the very long writing spree. Good times and bad in this section, so I am not responsible for your Kleenex bills. Once again, thank you Mazuri, Mokkelke, Wolf and the readers on my blog that have helped shape this story. Please remember to vote and comment. Jaisen 1952 "George! You as bad your Papa, that damn Henry!" yelled Brian. "You no...