Marcella Henry walked into the brightly-lit control room of the Prototype Living Alternate Technology Organism project and cheerily said hello to the half-dozen second-shift workers who were still at their stations. An additional dozen or so stations were already powered down for the night. “I don’t know how you are always so cheerful,” one of the techs said as she handed the shift supervisor’s set of master keys to Marce...

This didn’t start with the Super Bowl. Charlotte and I have been in each other’s faces since we were hired together six years ago. It’s just that this football season seems to have brought things to a head. We are both section heads for Pearson Consulting, and our names are almost the same– she is Charlotte and I am Charlene– but other than that we don’t seem to have anything in common. I’m from the west coast, LA born an...

A few years ago I was watching a news show on television when they did a segment with the title, “Does Your Name Shape Your Destiny?” “Damned straight!” I yelled at the television even before the announcer began his bit. The answer, by the way, was “Yes,” but I already knew that because my name is... Barbie. My full name is Barbara Millicent Roberts, but growing up, my parents, Margaret and George Roberts insisted that ev...

Marcella Henry leaned slightly forward so that her face was only inches from the huge console which formed the desk in front of her and then said brightly, “Good evening, PLATO.” There was actually a microphone in the earpiece which was hidden by her dark auburn hair, but somehow it seemed right to speak to the console rather than just stare out into the room as she spoke. Besides, there was a video screen in the middle o...

Amanda Crawford stared through the ice-covered windshield at the snow blowing horizontally across the road. She was trying to make out the side of the road... or see the center stripe... or see anything which would tell her if she was on her side of the road.  Right now, except for the fact that her tires sounded like they were on a hard surface, she couldn’t be sure that she was even on the road. This angry and slightly...

What would you do if a childhood friend sent you a long, rambling email about kinky sex with aliens? That’s what recently happened to me. The only reason I can think of that he would do so is that he knows I’ve seen a lot of weird shit and written about even more really strange stuff so I would probably believe him. Also, he knows how many stories I post and I am pretty sure he expected me to publish his email on some of...

It was 1958. Route 66 was in its glory as the primary route from Chicago to Los Angeles. While still in Illinois, shortly after the road passed through Springfield, just outside the small town of McLean, you passed by what was the premier truck stop of its day, the Dixie Trucker’s Home, usually referred to as “The Dixie Truck Stop.” This nationally-known truck stop was open 24/7, 365 days of the year. The huge sign with t...

It all started very late last summer, or perhaps I should say very early this fall. I was trying to get a very difficult article written on the Celtic myths in which humans become immortal, and my girlfriend, Annie, was feeling neglected... very neglected. I’m normally not one to refuse sex, but I had to get the article finished for my publisher, so I told her that she could speed things up by reading the article and help...

  How do you explain to your fiancé that there are dark secrets – even ghosts – in your family history? And that some of those ghosts are not fully relegated to the past. It was a crisp, but not cold, end of October evening in the “middle ground” just north of Vidalia, Louisiana, when Shelly stepped out of the woods and walked across the harvested cotton patch toward a small square of grass and weeds that stuck out almost...

I think the wee folk are playing with me, but this is the story the Pixies gave me for this year’s Halloween specials. It rolls some Celtic traditions in with some other traditions from the old times to present a tale of a witch who isn’t really a witch... except that she is.  = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = It all started when cousin Bridget made her prophecy. Bridget has always been a very weird little girl. Per...

Stan Satanowski stepped out of the state of the art spray tanning booth in his basement. It was a computer-controlled, fully-automatic model and should have cost much more than he could possibly afford, but he had gotten it basically for free. Free is a relative term. In this case, it meant that when he accepted a contract to clean up and remodel a space in a local strip mall, he agreed to store any and all equipment curr...

Captain David Humatha ran down the corridor toward the high speed gravity tube that would take him down the fourteen levels to the bridge. He shouted into his comlink to be heard over the loud alarms and the sound of running spaceboots which was echoing all around him in the hallway. Between loud squawks, the alarm was repeatedly shouting in a mechanically calm, and yet very urgent voice, “Level Three Intruder Alert. Leve...

It’s hard to believe that my summer at Pond Cove has come to an end. Things didn’t finish the way I had expected. Actually, things didn’t begin the way I expected either and the summer was nothing like I thought it would be. I thought I would have a lot of time to myself over the summer to get ready for my first year of teaching. Instead, most of my summer was taken up finding out I was a painslut, falling in love with an...

One day in early August, right after breakfast, Mistress Gloria said to Mistress Sam and Mistress Cheryl, “What do you think about going to the club tomorrow night?” She didn’t ask me or holly or puddy tat or tracy. Our opinion didn’t matter anyway. “Do we have the masks with us?” Mistress Cheryl asked. “New masks for you, weird worm, and tracy arrived yesterday,” Mistress Gloria replied. “What masks?” I whispered very qu...

Around the middle of July things started to get weird at Pond Cove. You may be wondering what I consider weird since I have been telling how I and three other submissives have been running around naked obeying our Mistresses all summer, but this is different. Something weird was happening with the Mistresses. It has to do with power... or authority... or assertiveness or something. Before this summer, I didn’t know I was...