Dear God, it was good to be home! Rachel looped her purse around the doorknob as it swung closed, and stepped gaily into the kitchen of her single-bedroom apartment. This night’s gig had been a slog – a nearly empty bar, and those that had stayed through the night had only done so to try to cop a feel of her ass as she tore down. Sometimes she thought she hated her job. If it wasn’t the drunks or the frequent, pounding he...

She wiped at the sweat coalescing on her forehead, sitting off-kilter on the stump outside of the barn. The summer heat was unbearable for a young woman who’d only just recently left the comforts of city living, and the stink of warm hay and manure assaulted her nostrils. Some of her sisters, she was told, had learned to ignore the stench. The homespun sundress she wore clung insistently to her body at her chest and thigh...

There was no doubt about it, they were an odd couple and had been right from the beginning of their courtship. Bertie had a degree, worked as a restaurant manager, and spoke with the tone and elocution of a university lecturer. Rachel worked part-time as a DJ, had never gone to college, and seldom got out of bed before noon. Those who speculated about their relationship supposed that Bertie’s attraction to his petite, you...

“Rachel, we’re going to be late.” He spoke as evenly as he could, but Rachel could still sense the tension in his voice even with her eyes glued to the screen. Bertie could be such a stickler for punctuality. He stood in front of the door to their apartment, swaying slightly in his shoes. “I’m going to be another minute,” she responded, her focus still confined to the laptop in front of her. Unlike her boyfriend, Rachel w...

She had spent most of Saturday afternoon picking the perfect outfit. She’d started one of her old band t-shirts as a base, but had trimmed off the sleeves and cut strips into the shoulders, which she had then braided and accented with wooden beads. The black corset did a beautiful job of showing off the curves of her bust and hips, even if it wasn’t one of the more striking pieces she owned. The studded choker was a Valen...

Her name was Sophie, and she’d worked in the restaurant for as long as Bertie had been around. She’d worked as a table greeter and a waitress, and had even put in shifts cleaning dishes when the job had demanded it, working her way up the chain of command for the last ten years. Now, at twenty-seven, she was a fixture of the dining room, with her own regulars and even some smitten customers. Sometimes he wondered, in a di...

Rachel had found herself in the dark, praying for illumination as to what could possibly be wrong with him. Bertie had been withdrawn for the last week, quieter even than usual, and while her boyfriend was a classic introvert at the best of times, he also didn’t tend to hide his feelings from her. Rachel took pride in that aspect of her relationship, there were few secrets that Bertie had tried to keep that she hadn’t ded...

He rubbed his eyes. From the distant kitchen, he could read the glow from the clock on the stove – 3:25 AM. Soon, he’d have to be up and active anyhow to make the drive to work. Soon – but not now. He debated crawling back into bed, but Rachel had only drifted off to sleep a few moments ago, and it wouldn’t be worth the effort if he managed to doze off at the cost of waking her. He shook himself, still dribbling uselessly...

Rachel whistled. The volume of the snow outside her apartment window had doubled since the last time she’d looked out, less than a half hour ago. The sounds from other tenants spinning their wheels in the parking lot was becoming irritatingly familiar, and had already interrupted her phone call twice. “So,” she asked playfully, “What are you wearing?” “Right now, my work uniform… and in a minute I’m going to add a parka a...

The sky was clear, the sun shone, and Bertie was standing back in the apartment that he shared with his girlfriend. He rolled his neck as he stepped through the door – the heavy snow had forced him into staying at his mother’s house for the last two days, and her guest bed was far more rigid than the mattress he was used to. While he appreciated having a place close to work where he could stay, he was far happier getting...

Rachel stood next to naked in the corner, considering her options. She begrudgingly admitted she’d put herself in this position, but by her count, she still had several hours to find a solution to the problem she’d created. It was Bertie’s birthday – not a significant number as he saw it, but Rachel had argued that as a musician, she recognized twenty-seven as a milestone. That meant celebration, that meant drinks, that m...

It wasn’t often that nights could be this quiet. His restaurant had recently made the decision to hire a manager specifically for the kitchen on weekday nights, and for the first time in years Bertie was able to relax in the evening, even switching off his phone once he left at five o’clock. He looked to the clock on the dashboard. Even with the hostile flow of cars around him, he figured that he’d be home in about twenty...

Rachel glanced again at the clock. Where was he? She’d expected Bertie to be home almost an hour ago. She acknowledged that it could be traffic keeping her boyfriend out of her arms, but for this long? No, something was up, and Rachel had to consider, not for the first time, if she should be considering another form of behaviour modification. Bertie’s spanking fetish had been introduced early in their relationship – when...

Nine o’clock. Despite the (relative) earliness of the hour, she could see that Bertie was getting tired. His eyes were beginning to show that glazed look, and his attention was wandering. “Are you ready for bed, sweetie?” she offered. He shook his head. “No, I’m going to the night shift by the day after tomorrow. I need to start keeping later hours.” If that was his goal, they’d started on the wrong foot. They’d spent all...

Rachel had been getting little hints for almost a week now. The first sign had been at the club a week ago – one of the women attending her friends’ second bachelorette party had spent twenty minutes trying to recall the name of a song she’d wanted to request, a memory made all the more hazy by the previous hour spent downing shots from cock-shaped glasses. The forty-something partier had paused for a moment, her mind on...

It had been weeks since Rachel’s last gig. It was the beginning of the summer season, and the university students who had packed the club to hear her spin tunes and sing every weekend since September had gone home. Her business was quiet, and she’d only recently started to search the want ads looking for something to pay the bills for the next handful of months. Bertie knew from experience that little was going to come fr...

The nearly inaudible click of her key in the front door was Bertie’s first indication that Rachel was home. He rolled over in bed to glance at the alarm clock on the table beside him – nearly 4 AM. That was late, even for Rachel, and as he listened he could hear her clomping around in the kitchen, even as she was trying to be silent, punctuating her noisiest moves with a loud “Shh!” and muted giggling. Bertie had been hop...

Rachel squinted against the dim ring of lights surrounding the bathroom mirror. In front of and around her, the walls throbbed with the heavy beat of the music she’d left playing before she’d slipped in here to “freshen up”. The face that stared back at her was damp with sweat, her mascara dribbling in a line that threatened to lead to her upper lip. Her short shock of green hair lay flattened against her scalp. Not the c...

He could feel the ache in his corneas even after pressing his eyes shut. The glowing screen sat squarely before him, waiting. Judging him. He’d told himself that he wouldn’t go to bed until he’d put something down, justified the day somehow. That had been four hours ago. Folding his hands behind his head, his gaze drifted to the doorway at the periphery of his vision. The only other light in the apartment came from the be...

Bertie sat waiting, even if he hadn’t known where he was. The room was spacious and gray, the carpet was gray (With a spiral pattern if one looked closely enough), and he sat in one of two gray armless chairs that faced a desk. He assumed it was an office, though he couldn’t tell whose office it was. Not his own, of course, as a restaurant manager he was lucky if he could fit two people seated comfortably. He couldn’t see...