In the year 1008 as reckoned in Rome on the Julian Calendar, Brother Cyryl Procopius was given a writ of Accession to take over the Parish of St. Adelbert in the Polish town of Virlun at the edge of the God-forsaken Wood of Mldawa. It was well known that the world ended at the Bug river, and that the Woods of Mldawa were the beginning of the Great Wilderness that surrounded the realm of Blessed Christendom, a place where Satan and his minions held sway out of the reach of God and his all his angels;
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You pour me another glass of wine, the night air is cooling but the water in the hot tub is keeping us from getting chilled. The party has moved inside but there are still three of us left. You sit snuggled up beside me, legs intertwined under the water. You have one leg over mine and the other spread out to the side, exposing your pussy without being too obvious about it. S sits across from us, we are talking quietly, enjoying the sounds of the night. I had turned off the lights earlier so we could see the stars but the moon and the light from the house allows us to see each other well.
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"Hey, Tom...er Mr. Fairchild. Did you catch the Ajax ad in the Trib?" Bob Haml stuck his head in the door of the walnut-paneled conference room.
Tom Fairchild looked up from the papers on the table and grinned. "Yep. Star night. The wicked wheel strikes again. I'm on the wheel committee this quarter so I was a witness. I wish I could tell you the name of the lady with such bad luck."
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Doctor Charlotte Preston sat in her grey wing back chair and lightly tapped her pen across her folio papers. She was listening to her patient Gabriel relate a new story, one about his positive progress. Veterans Day had just passed and every previous year Gabriel had been asked to make an appearance at the local remembrance ceremony but he had always declined. But this year, despite his paralyzing fear, he had gotten out his Dress uniform and he had gone to the ceremony.
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After my long and dull meeting ended I was eager to get away from the clichéd business speak and settle into a quiet bar stool for a slow gin and tonic. Maybe chase it with a beer. I took a walk several blocks from the convention center in hopes of not bumping into anyone I'd know and found a quaint little establishment that seemed perfect for what I was looking for. The lights were down low, the music not deafeningly loud and a cute bartender to boot. Perfect.
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It was a Thursday morning. I had just gotten to the office, my cubicle was on the south side of the third floor. I booted up my computer, got some coffee, and sat down to catch up on the daily slew of emails that waited for me when I arrived. I had a busy day of meetings and I had been up late the night before, so I was braced for a long day.
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A few months ago, I had my friend Alex over to help me break in a couple of slaves. He is a big, sensual Dom who, although he can be very rough, can also be very gentle. As we enjoyed our slut-girls, he made it somewhat clear that he wanted to use me as a sub sometime. I felt strangely drawn to him and couldn't stop thinking about his offer. He really turned me on and thoughts of being bound and made to service him constantly haunted my thoughts and dreams.
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Kate double-checked her hair in the glass window of Professor Foster's front door. She wasn't sure why, but the 18-year-old wanted to look her best for her teacher. Probably because it was her first day on the job as his babysitter.
"Normally, I'm reluctant to do this during the semester," he'd said at the end of his last lecture, "but my wife and I are really in a bind.
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She entered the stairwell and launched herself at the stairs, taking them two at time. She reached her apartment in no time, and was soon inside her place, locking the door behind her. She shed her clothing as she moved through the apartment, freeing her long, dark hair. She shook her head back and forth gently, causing the ends to caress the soft skin at the small of her back. She shivered slightly, nipples hardening, and made her way to the phone. She dialed her best friend's number and started to sing as it was answered.
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It is Saturday, mid-morning.
My cellphone rings, I pick it up and see that it is my answering service. I take the call.
"Yes, speaking...What are the symptoms?"...looking for a pen and paper.
"What is her number?...OK. Thanks."
I jot down the number.
"Stephanie! What have I gotten myself into now?" I say to myself.
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