Author: alfadog67

300 Words

300 Words

THIS STORY IS FICTION.

I walked in from work, and she was still there. She couldn’t get away, of course, but she certainly didn’t seem to make any effort to, either. Her bonds were burlap, and I’m sure they were quite uncomfortable by now.

I noticed that her water cup was empty, so I grabbed a fresh straw and a refill. The sheets were stained with her urine, and it was starting to smell a bit ripe, so I grabbed a new set from the closet and started toward her.

She was tied face down on the bed. That’s the way she liked it best – she liked the element of surprise, she once told me. I placed her new water within reach, and gently scratched her back.
“Wake up, honey, It’s time.” I said.

She awoke slowly and raised her head, turning toward me. Her hair was amuss, and her face was caked with dried remnants of this morning’s session.

“Good morning, Daddy”, she said, as she began to stretch her arms, then her legs, as far as her confinements would allow.

“Ready to change, my bunny?” I asked. Read more »

Hopeful

The circumstances that led me here were bleak. I had a history of being odd, or quirky as I’ve heard time and again. I just couldn’t seem to clique with my fellow man. I’d run away many times to circus after circus of disjointed but affectionate people, but each time I settled in, the expectations I burdened upon my new loves were too intense for them to bear. Each time, I could see the attention sway, and the affection drain away.

“But this time will be different.” I tell myself each time I land somewhere. I’d lower my expectations, scaffold up my feelings, and dive head-first into what seemed to be a promising swim of love and affection. And each time, she would drain away.

Here’s how the last one ended.

She was packed. All of her belongings were in boxes, and ready to be shipped. Her luggage was by the door, and she was dressed for the public. She wore a white silk blouse with a gold necklace, and a green, medium-length skirt made of tweed. Her feet were adorned with my favorite shoes. Those “fuck-me” pumps, as we laughingly called them, made her calves round and voluptuous. When she walked in them, her ass would sway to and fro, inviting me to stare. Read more »