Any Resemblance to Actual Persons, Living or Dead, is Purely Coincidental The small town of T counts just 2900 inhabitants. Actual it’s not more than a village, with a limited number of shops, one restaurant and two pubs. As always in such a small, close-knit community, everyone knows each other and this provides an excellent breeding ground for the gossip c...
Copyright Oggbashan August 2019 The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons. +++ "Ow! That hurt. It isn't large enough for my wrists, Alice."...
"I'm here for the tour," James said with his dangerously addictive smile. Belinda looked up from the reception desk of the old gaol. He was wearing a different suit, this one wasn't covered in dust, but otherwise he looked just as good. The punishment she'd inflicted on him on his last visit didn't seem to have affected his confidence as he sat on her desk...
* * * * * Copyright Oggbashan October 2005 The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons. * * * * * We were running late. We had intended to m...
James was exhausted after meetings in two continents over five days. He had missed Belinda, he always did, and the thought of seeing her smile loomed large as he walked up to the front door. He realised that he didn't yet have a key for the new security lock, and so had to wait patiently for her to answer the door. When she did, she was wearing only a sheer...
"Go ahead. Touch it." Richard leaned over her shoulder, his breath hot by her cheek. Bridget pulled instinctively away from his rancid, scrubby beard, but she couldn't help reaching out with a horrified fascination. "Go on," Richard breathed harshly. It was cold and rough under her fingers – hard, rusted, eaten away by time and ground to dullness with...
The sound of Belinda locking doors, turning and jangling keys had almost brought James to climax. Almost. He just needed to touch himself, but unfortunately that was impossible while his whole body was tightly shackled to the wall. His excitement was heightened by an edge of fear. Belinda had been right, if she chose never to release him, his skeleton would...
************************************************* Copyright Oggbashan February 2016 The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work. This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons. *********...
Leah. Leeeee-ah. She moaned fitfully, emerging from a sleep that felt as deep and dark as Goodman Miller's millpond. Leeee-ah. The voice, crooning. And then a laugh. A laugh that seemed familiar. High, shrill, tittering, a laugh like rusty nails and icicles. Pain. Sharp and twisting. At the tip of one breast, then the other. Leah gasped. Something w...
Saturday morning and Belinda rolled over in bed and arched her back which ached slightly as it always did in the morning. She knew she should do some yoga stretches, but right then nothing was further from her mind. She rolled over and pushed her unbrushed and tangled dark hair out of her eyes. Still only half awake and with her head pounding, she reached ou...