Authors Note: I ask everyone to please not take this one too seriously. I believe I am drunk writing this, at the very minimum I am tipsy. Possibly I am sloshed! I was just watching some early Warner Brothers cartoons I had not seen in years and loved them. This popped into my head and I need to write it! So bear with me, and pray my spell checker does a...
Beaver Jones was walking slowly towards the bank of the river Minge. She was a tall blonde assassin. With red lipstick, a fur coat, and a killer smile to die for. The people saw her as public enemy number 1. Her juices flowed from the de-industrialisation penis, swollen with the heady gains of a capitalist sweat-gland. It was a powerful symbol of the Soviet...
This is a very short story but I hope you enjoy it anyway. ***** When I saw you at my best friend's wedding, it was the first time I'd seen you in over seven years. We'd had a tempestuous on/off affair from the first year at Leeds University and continued to our mid-twenties. Despite the arguments and pain, you were and I guess still are, without doubt ,yo...
I was raised by my mother in a very disciplined household in Scotland in the U.K., and as far back as I can remember being spanked was quite common. As a result I think that played a big part in my 'development' by being too strict, as I became very shy and introverted, and believe I developed a high pain threshold as a result. There were times when I would...
Author's Note: Thanks again to Eclecticwoman818 for her sharp eye for errors and helpful suggestions. As always, please vote for all the stories you read. It validates the time we all put in creating our stories and helps us to figure out what was good and what was bad. Comments are also welcomed, but if you find fault with something I've written, please sta...
I was still 29. I wasn't thirty yet - I wasn't a worn-out middle-aged woman, and for the simple reason that I refused to be. I did not want to cross the thirty-border, beyond which I would be unable to wear mini skirts of wedge-heeled shoes anymore; beyond which I could no longer giggle and leave early from dinner parties - I wouldn't be a girl anymore. In...
As I sat in Mary's kitchen, naked as the day I was born, while we shared a breakfast of pancakes, I couldn't help but think how life can take sudden, strange turns. Two days ago, I didn't even know this older woman who had spanked me to tears in her living room just a few steps away. As I ate, Mary told me about herself. She was far from the "old spinster"...
Veronica Lavingham's schtick was - spinster "d'un certain age", still hot in the middle. She sent in her show reel with an introductory profile which said: "Veronica's secret appointments with the camera are treated like dates to be seduced. She bathes and then she powders and perfumes. On top, she is all elegance. But underneath is a show-all exhibitionist...
"Good Morning, this is the Governor's office. How may I help you?" "Good Morning, Leslie, this is Senator Reingold. Is the Governor available?" "Good to hear from you, sir, let me check." After several minutes, the Governor came on the phone. "Good Morning, Bruce, what's going on?" "Good morning, sir. A situation's come up and I'm going to resign from th...
Joyce 2 - Flatulent confession It was 6pm in the London offices of Clutterbuck Legal Publishers, Bell Yard, EC2. Manager Joyce Tipson was sitting in her office chatting to Julie, her secretary. The year was 1972 and the building was deserted because the employees had all gone home with the exception of Joyce, Julie and one other – your humble scribe, John...