This story is a bit wordy and fairly long, so if you are looking for immediate gratification, you might want to look elsewhere. ------------- ----------------------- The following story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance between actual persons, living or dead (or just confused) is entirely coincidental. Please do not copy/redistribute the story, in pa...
Author's Note: If you haven't read the other contract killer stories, you may want to read them before you read this one. However, it is not necessary to have read them to enjoy each on its own merit (I hope). They are, in order as written: Confession of a Contract Killer Contract Killer's Next Hit Contract Killer Stirs the Pot Drop me line; let me kno...
“Start yakking, Mack. Who are you and what were you doing in that tree?” This came from thug number one. Moe brushed off the bark from his hands and straightened his jacket. Thug number two chimed in. “Maybe he’s a pussy, Al. Pussies like to climb trees.” Thug number one, Al, was middle-aged, thin-faced, and wore a permanently tired expression. He wasn’...
A Few Good Reasons to Share Sexual Fantasies Hi! My name is Bianca. I'm sorry to send you this chain letter, but I didn't want what happened to me to happen to you. Three months ago I received this letter for the first time. I thought what you are probably thinking now – it's a hoax. So I ignored it. But I found out the hard way – this is for REAL! Within...
I sat on the train, my nose buried in a book, my body cloaked in every warm item that scattered the floor of my room that morning. The Chicago weather had just turned rigidly cold, a cold that had slipped my memory with all the hot summer fun of the previous year. Once again, it was time to bundle myself to bare the frigid Midwestern air that blew from Lake...
"Where am I?" Nik slurred out, dazed and confused. The back of his skull throbbed in pain, a result of the blow that struck him without warning. The room looked vacant of people. Water dripped from a leaky pipe. Tied to a chair, Nik couldn't move. Any attempt unbalanced the chair, almost causing him to fall over. "Anri? Are you here?" he called out. "If yo...
Take a look at Sholonda Brown. She's one of my favorite young thug bitches. You've seen them before. Those tough black bitches from the hood. Lately, I've been having so much fun with her it's not even funny. Who am I? Ripley Jackson Brakes. A tall, good-looking black man living in the beautiful and sometimes dangerous city of Boston. Way down in Southeaster...
Tales from the City: Ernie's Diner My name is Daniel Archer. I am an ex-police officer from a small southern town. I moved to the city after leaving the force. I live in an apartment that is just around the corner from Ernie's Diner I've been going Ernie's for about three years now. I sit in the same booth, the one in the back corner, usually working on a c...
Chapter 5 - Life Lessons As a top predator, Minx had a highly developed killer instinct. Toying with one's prey is all well and good, in fact often quite delightful, but in the end there must be an end. The prey must be brought down, the decisive blow struck. When the coup-de-grace arrived, it should come without hesitation or mercy. Minx believed that sh...
The dark street was lit with sharp blue and white flashes as an undercover cop car screeched to a halt. The group of hoods scattered, the tall, blonde leader dropping the girl he was dragging by the hair. "Freeze! Police!" the cop began to chase after the youths his gun drawn, leaving behind the bleeding, sobbing girl to curl into a tight ball on the broke...