Friday, January 21, 2022

Just A Sip

It was autumn now, and the days were growing shorter, but they were still unbearably long. Dark could not come fast enough for Joshua Orel’s liking. He busied himself unnecessarily, trying to make the hours of sunlight tick away that much faster. He collected rents for his family’s properties in the morning, he audited the ledgers in which he recorded said rents, and he took it upon himself to go to the afternoon market for the next day’s meat and milk–a task normally reserved for his part-time maidservant, Margaret.

By late afternoon, Joshua’d run out of things to do. His flat was clean, his laundry done, and Maggie had left his meal evening meal warm and waiting so that he had only to remove it from the cast iron cookstove that sat to one end of the modestly sized kitchen. He sat, languished, and stared at the light pouring in past the open curtains framing the glass-inset doors that led to his tiny balcony. He tried to read, but he couldn’t focus. Over, and over again, his gaze swept to the curtains, to the doors, to the bare metal chair and table on the narrow balcony, to haze of the city sky beyond.

Tuesday, October 30, 2018

Ah-ah-ah

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Sunday, September 9, 2018

Good in Rope

“You look good in rope,” Nicholas all but purred as he admired his handiwork.

“Is that some kind of colonizing bullshit?” Mayank teased, the sly slant of his dark eyes and his wide grin giving him away. “White man power tripping over my brown skin in ropes?”

Nicholas raised his brows at Mayank and put his head on to one side.

“Don’t think I hadn’t considered it before,” Nicholas replied in measured tones. “I do try to avoid fetishizing people, but I think we’re safe in any case. You came to me, after all, and you asked me to tie you up.” He leaned close, his breath tickling at Mayank’s ear. “I could untie you if you like. A few little pulls and that harness will be so unraveled it wouldn’t hold a kitten.”

Wednesday, August 22, 2018

Normal

The first thing that Devon was aware of as he regained consciousness, was the cold air sliding across the back of his leg. The second thing was the pressure of his bladder. His eyes had crusted shut the way they always did this time of year, and moving to Florida hadn’t helped that any. He rolled to his back, knuckling at one despite the fact that it tore at his lashes and irritated his lids, and forced the other to open on its own. He’d pay for that later, but he had to see the body that belonged to the weight in the bed next to him.