Author: laurencatastrophe

Daddy Issues

I was still in high school, when I met Alex and John in a community theater group. My school’s annual stage production had been canceled that year, when the drama teacher took a personal leave of absence and none of the other staff members wanted the vexing responsibility of directing a bunch of recently pubescent misfits on stage after class. Their solution was to recommend an all-ages theater troupe casting parts in a production of Brigadoon, in a neighboring town.

Despite having my driver’s license, my mom still drove me to doctor’s appointments and dance recitals, anywhere outside of my normal routine. I suffered from frequent panic attacks, even when I wasn’t behind the wheel of a 2000-pound automobile. The additional anxiety of being a new driver was often debilitating, and the brand-new convertible I had been given on my 16th birthday would sit stationary in the driveway for weeks on end. Read more »

Lycanthropy: A Love Song

When I got the save-the-date card in the mail, I remember thinking how well an autumn wedding would complement my sister- with her long auburn hair and New England Chic sensibilities- and by the ocean, no less, where she might as well be a vision of Aphrodite emerging from the sea foam. As I studied the folded stationary more closely, I realized the tricolored artwork adorning the embossed front cover wasn’t a sunset, as I had originally thought. Rather, it depicted a moonrise over the ocean, with its ghostly light fading in the ripples of the water.

A familiar chill ran down my spine, as the smile quickly faded from my face. I turned to the hi-tech clairvoyance of my iPhone before giving myself over completely to the mounting panic. It had been years since I last had to look up the lunar calendar, but I still had it bookmarked vigilantly in my browser, as a precautionary measure, just in case. I cupped a trembling hand over my mouth when I ultimately confirmed my worst fear: My sister would be married on the harvest moon! Read more »

Notes from my first submission

His voice. If I had to pick one thing that I loved most about our first session, it would have been his voice. He has the unique ability to convey both cruelty and compassion in the same breath, to come across as simultaneously savage and civilized, with a refined ferocity that must have taken a lifetime to cultivate.

The effect his voice had on me was hypnotic, stupefacient, almost alarmingly so. I found myself in a daze as I carried out his first series of instructions, as if possessed by him right from the start. I was amazed by how quickly I reacted and how readily I began to comply, well before my mind had time to process what I was being told to do:

“Strip naked.”

“Kneel down.”

“Bend over.”

“Present.”

Undressing, kneeling and ultimately prostrating myself for his initial assessment of me proved quite an ice breaker. Although I was eager to do as he said, the indecency of it felt, in some ways, like a small betrayal. A betrayal of myself, of my sensibilities, of my dignity. At the same time, it was wildly freeing, and it’s hard to put into words just how exhilarating it felt to overcome my own self-imposed modesty as I was made to “present” in this fashion several times throughout our session. As things progressed, I began to relish each new opportunity to open myself a little wider, arch my back a little deeper and push my shoulders a little harder into the floor. Read more »

Published
Categorized as Erotica