Monday February 14, 2011. 5:51 PM. Verna stared at the screen until the next minute rolled, then set her Blackberry down on the table beside her. What was it that Dean Sheridan had said – five o’clock, five-thirty at the latest? Despite the date, she hadn’t expected their dinner to be anything more than professional – the Dean was a pleasant enough companion for a woman of Verna’s age even if he had ‘gone to seed’ as her...

Shortly before noon, Rachel emerged from bed with a spring in her step. After all, it wasn’t every day she woke up expecting to have a three-way. She’d packed the silky black robe to wear as a housecoat while they were staying over at Mika’s house, but without anything underneath, it was a stunning showcase for her curves – and for her small size, Rachel had a lot of those. She couldn’t find the cord that was supposed to...

The phone screen lit up again, and Bertie thanked his instincts again for putting the device on silent before he’d gone to bed. He rolled over on the unfamiliar mattress, hoping it was just his mother checking in or maybe a work emergency. If you want to catch Up, Mill Rush noon tomorrow Great potato skins He’d traveled over six hours in bad weather to be here, to spend the weekend with a friend he hadn’t seen in over a y...

Rachel had never slept well in somebody else’s bed. She’d managed to get a couple of hours’ rest in the car, but it had done more harm than good – not only was she unable to get back to sleep, but dozing off while seated had left her with an ache in her neck and shoulders that wouldn’t go away. It wasn’t fair. She hadn’t seen Mika in over a year, ever since the younger woman had graduated and moved home to start an intern...

“You know,” said Bertie to no one in particular, “ever since we’ve decided to be openly kinky, I’ve had to do a lot more driving.” Rachel snored in the seat beside him. He’d clocked her nodding off since before they’d left Toronto. The app had told them to expect a three-hour drive, but he’d run that estimate almost a week ago. He hadn’t calibrated it for a Friday preceding a long weekend, nor had he expected the snowfall...

Maybe it’s the posture. She shifts again in the oddly-shaped chair. It still feels wrong, what should be the headrest presses against her breasts, and the back forces her legs apart. She remembers being more comfortable the last time. Beside her he waits patiently, his intent unreadable behind his mask. Nearby is a tray of tools that she saw once when she arrived and from which she has averted her eyes ever since. He clea...

Leanne blinked. When her eyes reopened the little boat was still there, pinned against the wall at the point where her eyes crossed. It faded in and out of focus like it was mocking her. “Daddy…” she pouted, “how much longer do I have to do this?” “How long did I tell you that you had to hold it there?” She remembered. “Eleven minutes and twenty seconds.” “That’s right. And seeing as it’s been—“ the chair creaked behind h...

It had been an oddly calm day at the café. There had been no inexplicable imbalances in the registers, no clueless trainees in need of babysitting, no last-minute sick calls - even the ever-malfunctioning espresso machine had kept its cool. Bertie had spent the latter half of his shift waiting for something to inevitably go wrong, but he clocked out at four p.m. disappointed. Typically by this time of the day he’d be exha...

She didn’t want to hurt Bertie. But it was coming to the point where that pain would be inevitable. Two years, Rachel remembered. It had been two years since they finished couples’ counseling, two years since their therapist of all people had introduced them to a community of kinky people like themselves. Since then, Rachel had seen more red or marked butts – her own included! – than she’d ever thought she’d lay eyes on....

Bertie had been called a number of unpleasant things in his life. An ex-girlfriend had called him spineless years ago. An employee he’d fired for drinking on the job had said he was a narc, and his own mother in a moment of frustration years ago had called him an ungrateful child. But, having his own girlfriend refer to him as a ‘tight-ass’? That particularly hurt. Less than an hour before, in a rare moment of serendipity...

The moment that she opened her door to Jeff, with a guilty Leanne lingering behind him, Rachel was able to piece together what had happened. “You told him?” Two weeks ago (Two and a half now), Rachel had found a used cigarette carton that Leanne had previously hidden from her Daddy in her sister’s room. Knowing that Jeff would spank her if he found out, Leanne had sworn her to secrecy in exchange for taking her punishment...

The gray hairs had been the first sign. They’d started to sprout after Rachel stopped dyeing her hair, the occasional silver streak running through her short, dark locks. It had been endearing at first – Rachel had always appeared younger than her years, almost ethereal, and that first reminder of her years made her somehow more real. There were other signs as well – loose skin and wrinkles where he hadn’t noticed them be...

After seeing her sister’s apartment, Rachel decided that she owed her boyfriend an apology. Much as Bertie’s hyper-punctual housecleaning schedule could irritate her, it had never occurred to her that his efforts could be keeping something like that from happening. “So,” Leanne mumbled, “where do you want to start?” Even for a studio the apartment was small, and it was clear that their parents had set Leanne up with a mis...

“What have I gotten myself into?” wondered Jeff to nobody in particular. He’d put up the online ad on a lark, after a few beers and a tough-love pep talk from his buddy Carl after he’d spent another boys’ night complaining about how he’d never find anybody else like Mika, not at his age. Carl had grabbed him by the shoulder and said, “Frobie, you were luckier than any old fuck like us has the right to be. Not because you...

Have you been a good girl? Leanne refreshed the webpage, half-expecting the listing to vanish as if it never existed, either a trick of her mind or a victim of the public library’s ‘adult content’ firewall. But it returned, same as before, and she dug herself a little further into her cubicle. To answer the question – no, no she hadn’t been a good girl, not by any stretch of the imagination. Even the few friends she had l...