Nandita To Nandini
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"Samuel?" President Atkinson called to his Chief of Staff, motioning with his finger as they left the press room following another meaningless news conference. "Follow me, we need to talk." The president wasn't fond of these Press events. The reporters felt free to call out any question they wanted, even though they'd called the event to announce a single issue. Although they'd come in handy during the election, he hated the press with a passion he sometimes found hard to conceal. Still, his patented smile was almost permanently etched onto his face.
"Sir?" Samuel White, his Chief of Staff, asked as he caught up with his boss.
"I need an update on those 'Anton tickets'." Atkinson stared forward as always, not bothering to glance at anyone surrounding them. "I haven't heard anything for several days and they're going to be 'in town' any day now."
Samuel glanced at those accompanying them—people he wasn't sure were authorized to overhear their conversation. "Uh, are you sure now's the best time to discuss it? I mean, you wouldn't want to spoil the girl's surprise."
"Hey, we only have so much time remaining, and I trust my people not to blab news about something which may never take place." The president spoke loudly enough for everyone around them to overhear, though his glare was reserved for Samuel alone. "You really don't need to make such a big deal about every little thing."
"If you'll remember, it was you who... , never mind. You're correct, sir, it's not worth sweating over," Samuel said, backtracking when the big man wouldn't stop glaring at him. As disconcerting as being ignored was, having the President of the United States glare at you like a bug on the wall was worse. As long as he'd worked here, he hadn't gotten used to either extreme yet. "So far we haven't been able to get solid confirmation about the date and location of the concert," he explained, quickly extemporizing.
"Really? Even after all this time? What's the use of having all these 'Hollywood connections' if they can't answer a single essential query?"
Samuel glanced once more at the people trailing them, trying to determine if anyone was taking notice of the code words the two were using. "It's not really about our resources, it's about the weather—which we have no control over."
"Come on? Still?" Alan asked, shooting his Chief of Staff another ominous look. "With all our modern technology from Weather satellites, 'commercial pilots' to those little automated planes they fly into storm clouds; you're telling me we can't determine whether we're going to have a 'major storm' or not?"
"Well, it's not really so simple. It's a major front which hampers the normal measurement apparatus. What's more, while we were hoping it would blow through by now, the front seems to have stalled in place."
That little tidbit riveted Alan's attention and he glanced at Samuel a bit less ominously. "You don't think they're controlling it, do you? I mean, it seems awfully convenient it would simply stall in place at just this point in time, doesn't it?"
"Now that's just silly," Samuel replied, leveling a warning glare at the president. "Clearly Anton's people have no control over the weather. I can understand your frustration over this little impasse, but trying to blame them for a natural phenomenon is going a little far, don't you think?"
"Still, you understand why I may think that, don't you?" President Alan asked, clearly requesting either a confirmation or denial.
"I understand, but these are established weather patterns which have been in play for some time. The problem is the high pressure system ahead of it, stationed in the Midwest. It's stalled and is blocking the low front behind it from advancing."
"I still don't see how that can be such a limiting factor," the president pressed. "Don't they have airplanes flying in and out of storm fronts all the time?"
"They do," Samuel responded with a sigh, "but the planes stay above the clouds until they're ready to land. When they do, they don't remain in the lower elevation for long, just enough time to touch down."
"OK, so planes can fly through it," Alan continued to press, ignoring everything which didn't agree with his initial point. "So why can't they report on its progress?"
"It's not that straightforward," Samuel replied, struggling to keep his replies within the context of their cover story. "The problem is 'larger planes' or faster jets can't fly slowly enough to take the proper recordings. Smaller planes, especially the 'model' kind, aren't stable in the heavier winds below the cloud cover."
"So you're suggesting they need eyes on the ground?" Alan asked, apparently giving up on phrasing it within the confines of their cover story.
"Well, it's always problematic involving too many individuals. They tend to report wildly divergent things and also 'prerelease' preliminary results."
"Ah, I can see how that would be an important issue," Alan responded. He stared off into space as they rounded a curve on their final approach to the Oval Office. "Maybe if they kept people handy so they could respond quickly once they detected something?"
"That sounds like the best solution, but that's something for the weather forecasters to decide. It clearly has nothing to do with either Anton's people or ours," Samuel replied with a smile.
"Well I'm glad we had this little talk. I was worried about the hold up about the concert," Alan responded, turning and addressing Samuel directly. "As you know, this is vitally important to the girls. They'd be very disappointed if they missed the concert. Let me know as soon as we have any information, would you?"
"Absolutely, Sir. Just as we have been."
"Very good. I'll speak to you soon. But now, it seems I've got an economy to rescue again," President Alan said as he strode into the Oval Office.
"Hey, could you do me a favor?" Josh asked, approaching a young man wearing a wool cap despite the intense heat of the Arizona summer. The man just stepped from his truck and looked to be a bit of a slacker. He seemed to be Josh's ideal candidate.
"Huh?" the guy asked, caught off guard, glancing at Josh in confusion.
"Could you help me out and mail this for me? I'll give you twenty bucks to do it."
The kid, his face still bearing teenage pimples, just stared at him for a few seconds.
"Uh... , excuse me, but when some stranger approaches you in the Post Office parking lot, offering you money to mail something, it's usually bad news. What's in the envelope? Some kind of poison or drugs?"
"Nah, it's nothing like that," Josh hurriedly explained. He'd been prepared for this reaction. As long as he got this far he figured he could explain himself. The problem was finding someone who would listen to him at all. "Here, see, there are two envelopes," he explained, opening both envelopes for the guy.
"See, the inside envelope just has a bunch of handwritten notes and a couple of old-fashioned cassette tapes—mixed tapes, as it were. Here," he added, closing the smaller envelope and making a point of licking it to seal it to prove there wasn't any poisonous powders inside. "This envelope fits inside the larger one, which only has a short note inside." Once the guy looked at it, Josh made a point of closing the larger envelopes' self-seal adhesive. When the guy raised his eyebrow, he raised his hands, revealing his well-worn work gloves. "I'm only wearing gloves because I've been working in the field. There's nothing illegal or worrisome inside."
"Then why can't you mail the damn thing yourself?" the guy asked, tilting his head and looking Josh up and down.
"Look, the problem is the guy behind the counter. He's the ex of the girl I'm sending this to. I've always had a thing for her, so I'm sending her a package of love notes I've written her over the years, along with some mixed tapes of romantic music which made me think of us over the years. Because she was with this other guy I never acted on my feelings before. I decided now that they're broken up I'd take a chance. The short note explains I'm interested in her. If she's interested too, she can open up the smaller envelope, but if not, she can simply throw it away, and at least I'll have made an attempt. But I'm not looking forward to handing this guy an envelope addressed to his ex-girlfriend. He's known I've had a thing for her, even though she never quite figured it out. Chances are he'd see it and either demand she tell him what it was, or take it in a back room and open it himself."
The guy, easily within a few years of Josh, snickered. "Yeah, I can picture that. OK, you've got a deal. Personally, it sounds kind of lame assed as she'll never look at it, but as you said, at least you'll have made the effort."
"Here, here's twen—"
"Hey, don't bother," the guy responded with a grin. "Now that I know what's up, I'm not worried. As one lonely guy to another, I figure it's part of the guy code. Help a brother out when he's trying to make a connection. I'm glad to do it."
"Look, take it anyway. I want to send it priority so it gets there as soon as possible, hopefully before she hooks up with someone else. There probably won't be much change, and if there is, buy yourself a soda on me," Josh offered, pushing a folded bill into his hand, though he didn't mention he'd included an extra twenty.
"Hey, thanks man. I really appreciate it." Josh gave him an honest smile of appreciation as he took it. He really felt like a creep lurking outside a post office approaching strange men, but he was well aware most modern post offices are equipped with video security cameras. If the authorities were ever alerted about what he was doing it was one of the first places they'd examine.
Whether his attempts to avoid future detection worked or not was anyone's guess. It largely depended upon how the authorities decided to handle it. If they decided to keep the news of aliens walking among the populous quiet, as Josh was assuming, he'd be covered. If they played up people's fears though, then it would all be for naught. The kid would see Josh's face plastered in the papers and would likely come forward admitting he'd mailed something. Then Josh's package would ultimately be discovered. But if it came to that, Josh's number would be up anyway. Yet it was important to get this envelope mailed, for him not to be associated with it, and for it to get there as soon as possible. And Josh wasn't about to send it electronically, as it would likely be intercepted if he did. This way, even if they discovered he'd mailed it, it would be in the recipient's hands. It would then be up to him whether he handed anything over to the authorities.
As Josh watched the kid head into the building and get in line he turned and headed back to his car where Cynthia was waiting.
"You going to explain what that was about?" she asked as he climbed behind the wheel and buckled up.
"Nope. At least not now. I don't know if it will work out or not, but if we're lucky, we might get some help from an unlikely source," he answered before starting his truck and slowly backing out.
It took a little searching to find the next alien. Like the others, they found it on a lonely piece of private property with only a single house near it, making Josh think this had been their intent. But in this case there was no one in the house, and the alien's craft was buried in some dirt and weeds a ways behind the home.
The craft was shut up tight when they got it uncovered and Josh and Peter looked for some release lever as the others brushed the dust coating it off. Finally Josh waved the others back. "I should have known this," he told them. "When I was looking for where to come, I noticed this one was a different color. It was brown instead of yellow like the others. I hadn't thought much of it, figuring it was just how I was viewing it, but I think it denotes the occupant has died. Let's get this loaded onto the truck and get out of here before the people who live here return."
"Should we ... you know, offer a prayer or something?" Cynthia asked.
"I have no idea what we'd say, nor even what God they may or may not pray to," Josh countered. "But if you want to say something, go ahead. But I'd like to get this out of here before too much time passes."
Cynthia glanced at the others, looking for some sympathy and support, but both Peter and Fred shrugged. So Cynthia stood up and stormed off, upset at her friend's callousness.
"You know, you could probably have handled that better," Peter suggested.
"Yeah, I know," Josh agreed as they watched Cynthia walking away, creating a little dust trail in her wake. "I'll try to make it up to her later. But for now take my keys and bring my truck around. Fred and I will continue digging it out."
"What are you going to do with it?" Fred asked, looking at him curiously.
"Well, I'm not leaving it here," he answered a bit shortly. "But I guess I'll bury it on my property somewhere no one will find it," he answered more quietly a moment later once he'd calmed down some. "I doubt his friends will be in any shape for a memorial. I don't want to risk a sky satellite detecting it with some advanced technology we're not aware of."
Fred started scooping dirt out from under it, hoping they could roll it to a better position. "Well, they won't pick it up with infrared."
"No, but we don't know how it's powered. If it's got some kind of fusion or fission engine, it might show up like a beacon on instruments designed to record possible nuclear testing," Josh reminded him. "If nothing else, if we're discovered, they'll likely search our property for anything metallic, and while I'm willing to pay for trying to help wounded people out, I'm not anxious to hand advanced technology over to a government I can't trust not to abuse it."
"Amen to that," Fred agreed, remembering the many times that same government had screwed his own people over.
Josh and his friends made much better time extracting the craft with its deceased occupant than they'd made locating it. Thanks to the pulley system they used on the farm, Josh's truck was able to make short work of the job. The crafts were actually quite light, so much so that Josh doubted there was actually any metal in the small vessel. However, the lack of anything to hook a cable to on the otherwise perfectly smooth craft proved problematic until Josh pulled out some old netting he'd found in the barn that morning. Using that and attaching the hook to the netting strands, they could easily drag the ship anywhere they wanted. Erasing the drag marks with tree branches was simple enough.
Now that they were on their way to the next rendezvous, Josh checked the alien device on his arm once again. He sighed in frustration. Despite having checked it multiple times, the light hadn't shifted from brown back to yellow, meaning their next target was as dead as the previous one. Still, even though he'd prefer finding living creatures to help, he also wanted to remove all evidence of their existence, and it was important to get rid of any this close to the larger populated areas close to home. If the survivors had to wait in the isolated mountains, then at least they'd stand a lesser chance of being accidentally discovered. But again, Josh realized they were dealing with a very limited window of opportunity. There was only so long they could keep a secret this big hidden, and it wouldn't take much to make everyone sit up and take notice.
Taking the last couple turns leading to their destination, Josh started growing more concerned.
"There seems to have been a lot of traffic through here," Cynthia observed, noting the recent ruts and muddy depressions in the road.
"Yeah, I've noticed. I just hope it's not police or military vehicles. Keep an eye out, will you."
"Oh, don't worry, I'm not about to let anything slip by. Not when my ass depends upon not missing the truck that's going to drag it to jail," she snapped, her mood not having lightened since the silly incident at the last place.
"Look, I'm sorry if I seemed dismissive about—"
"Will you just shut up about that already?" she insisted, her voice rising as she lost it once again. "I'm not upset that we didn't say a damn prayer. I was just upset at the uncertainly and the fact this is taking a lot longer than we'd originally planned. It's only a matter of time until we're found out. I don't mind helping you, but it's looking more and more like it's going to be a fool's errand. If we can't get all of them before word leaks out, they'll probably imprison all of us, discover the aliens on your property, and then all of this will have been in vain."
"Don't worry," Josh tried to assure her. "It'll all work out. It's got to work out," he finished, whispering the last bit to himself, though Cynthia arched her eyebrow at him as she'd overheard it anyway.
"There, there's something up ahead," Josh said, pointing at an area flattened out in the standing grass surrounding a quiet little house back in the woods.
As they drew near they could clearly see what had caused so much disruption to the road. Sitting in the clearing was an ABC News truck, a couple cars and there appeared to be a full news crew clustered around some people.
"That doesn't look good," Cynthia suggested.
"No, it certainly doesn't. Look, let's not get too paranoid just yet. Let's quietly investigate. Hopefully we can minimize any damage. If nothing else, we can always claim we saw the commotion and were drawn by simple curiosity."
"Curiosity killed the friggin' cat, remember?" Cynthia reminded him as she swept a stray hair out of her eyes once again. Her hair always took a lot of conditioning and treatment. While she liked to ignore it as much as possible, when she left it for too long, like she had that morning, it soon proved unmanageable.
Getting out, they approached the news crew who were in the process of recording their broadcast. There was a fresh faced news reporter—trying overly hard when a simple reporting would have been much stronger—two video cameramen and two technicians.
"Good afternoon, I don't need to tell you that this is a significant event," Martin Schmidt, the White House Press secretary announced, glancing around at the assembled press corps. "In order to determine what happened to unleash a mysterious unidentified plague at a classified military base a few days back, President Atkinson met with Colonel Whitacre. He was the officer in charge of the base who was en route to a briefing here when the plague spread, killing the remaining occupants of...
Sounding the horn as they arrived, the front door flew open and Frances and Melissa, Josh's sister and mother, came running out. It had been a long day and the sun had set some time ago. It took Josh and his friends a long time to move the capsule, even with assistance. They then took their time returning, not wanting to risk getting stopped for being careless. The sky, which threatened to fall all day, finally opened up. The teens drove through a downpour on the way home. Josh worried...
"Alright, let's get out of here," Cynthia suggested while their teammates were still scrubbing up. "Don't forget, we're on a military base and they may change their minds about allowing us to leave at any moment." "Just a minute, there's something I want to try first." Josh took a moment to examine the console in front of his chair, searching for something. "I want to try one more thing. I need to find a city but I've got no way to explain where it is. It's basically...
"It's down this way. We're close, but we need to get near enough to walk to it." Josh was concentrating on his surroundings, making turns while glancing at his arm to orient himself. "Let's try this next left and see if it gets us any closer." The road he selected was a narrow unpaved private drive, but so far none of the others they'd tried led in the right direction. "What do you think her name is?" Cynthia asked, trying once more to uncover some private detail he hadn't...
Jeffery checked his watch once again before pacing inside the shuttle. "Man, how much longer are they going to take?" "Hey, how should I know?" Josh replied from his command chair where he had his feet propped against the ship's control board. "They'll take as long as they need to." "Are you sure you should be doing that?" Becky asked, fretting he might accidentally launch them all into outer space. "How can you be so relaxed?" Jeffery pressed. "You know better than anyone...
I slid the report into the proper file just as he walked into the room. Dennis Butz stood there wearing his three-piece suit, looking as handsome and charming as any man could. But I was not to be tamed by his charm. "Hello, Linda," he said with a friendly grin. "Judge Herns isn't in today," I replied back in a frosty tone. "I'm not here to see her." "My plane leaves in less then an hour Dennis, what do you want?" I slammed the file drawer shut and walked past him to my desk...
"And then, when the teacher asked Martha for her answer—" "Pardon me, Mr. President," the president's Chief of Staff said, entering the room and interrupting the president's daughter, Felicity, "we have a situation on our hands." "Of course," President Atkinson responded, getting up without further preamble. "Sorry, Felicity, but as you well know, this job awaits no man." "I understand, Daddy," Felicity responded, even as the door closed behind her father and his security...
Detective Thomas Andrews leaned forward despite everyone else at the table leaning back with their arms crossed, scowling at Josh. The detective glanced towards the door as if expecting someone to sneak up on him in the locked interrogation room. "As you may have noticed, we were ordered to simply hold you. The Feds have specifically asked that we keep no records. That's why we haven't charged, fingerprinted or photographed you." "So I can leave now?" Josh asked just to be an ass since...
Sandy couldn’t sleep. She hears slight snoring coming up from the bottom bunk. Even with air conditioning, it is hot inside in August. She only has a sheet over her and no PJs, just panties and tee. She is also restless. Lightly touching herself, she slides a hand down under her panties to her mons and quickly to her pussy. Rubbing her clit slowly, then a little faster, she heats even more. She feels unsatisfied. It has been a few busy days since her brother had last been inside her, and it...
Josh took a deep breath to calm his fluttering nerves before approaching the Clearance Wood Denny's where he'd agreed to meet whoever Jonathan McCreary sent. He realized there was a good chance they'd report him to the government, if they hadn't already. If he said the wrong thing they could either make a citizen's arrest or place a simple phone call bringing the authorities to his door. He may very well have signed his own arrest warrant, as well as those of his family and those he was...
As the President entered the crowded White House Press Room it was obvious the assembled press reporters were edgy. They were anxious to understand what the White House was up to so they could report it to the public, and so far they had no real clue what was real and what wasn't. President Alan Atkinson, however, appeared unconcerned. He walked into the room without even glancing at anyone, not wanting to encourage them. Striding to the podium, he pulled out his prepared notes and finally...
Entering the shuttle, Josh closed the door right away and quickly sat down. "Up" is all he said. "Up?" the craft responded, not understanding the request for the first time. Josh realized that every time he'd used it before it took him into the overhead clouds, and there were only scattered clouds today, which the ship might not consider reliable enough at the moment. "Outer space," Josh insisted. "Take me to your ship." "Ship?" it asked, seeming especially cranky today. "The...
The television display was normal, broadcasting an innocuous program few cared about, but millions were sitting in rapt attention. Warnings had gone out for the past couple days, alerting people that the 'aliens would finally speak' as part of the ongoing YouTube video releases. The public was hungry to learn more about what was actually going on, and this was their one chance to finally decide for themselves. The government, despite the widespread rioting in the streets, continued to...
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By the time Margo and I finished dinner, we'd made each other horny with a series of stories: Margo sharing some of the cases her private investigation agency had conducted, many about various infidelities she'd investigated and how they turned out; and me sharing some stories from my road trip across America. I think we both had the expectation of making love in her apartment that evening. Margo kept checking her watch even though we ate dinner on the early side. We left the restaurant,...
Parking Area by Sammy’s Guest House 5:28pm, Thursday, November 15, 1979 “Hi, Dr. Candi,” I said after my computer materialized with her call as I stopped behind Cano’s Chevy Nova. “I’m doing well, thanks ... Yes, I think I’ll only miss the first quarter of the game as Mr. Williamson, our vice-principal, arranged for us to play a half-hour earlier, as well as get me a police escort to our game ... I guess you can cheer for Todd until I get there, but then you better be one-hundred for the...
Andrea On Her Own (Part 3 of Andrea's Stand) A Note Before: If you have not read parts 1 and 2, please go back and do so. I have spent some time trying to develop the characters involved and a brief description of the plot so far will not help you much. Chapter 1: Needing More I leaned back in my chair and stretched. It had been a long hour and a half finishing the homework from my calc. class. As I stretched I felt the sweater pressing against the breast forms and glanced...
This story is about the storm from januar 18 2007 over the european mainland. It describes the story of a man stranded by the storm, unable to get home and finds shelter in a youthhostel. The first part is true, the second part of what might have happened if I had decided to wear panties that day (which I almost did). The Storm STRANDED The storm is raging over the land. The railroads have just announced to stop all traintravelling due to the storm. In a few hours they...
This introduction story is based on true events. All the characters mentioned are above the age of 18. For personal reasons, the names of the characters have been changed. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The writer does not believe in any kind of discrimination or disrespect towards women. The story has been written for sexual satisfaction and should be held in the same regard. “Aah!” Nandini moaned as my thick member entered her...
IncestThis introduction story is based on true events. All the characters mentioned are above the age of 18. For personal reasons, the names of the characters have been changed. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The writer does not believe in any kind of discrimination or disrespect towards women. The story has been written for sexual satisfaction and should be held in the same regard. “Aah!” Nandini moaned as my thick member entered her...
IncestThe John Labatt Center, London, Ontario 10:53pm, Friday, January 4, 1980 ... With our mics ‘not-hot’ according to Devin’s earlier message, Eda said, “As we were playing that song, I was thinking it sure would be nice if Cathy and Paul joined us on Danger Zone. They helped us write it, so...” “That’s an awesome idea E. Devin, can we do that?” Sammy said and immediately sought out permission from our concert producer. “Ha! Didn’t you young’uns just kinda brow-beat me into letting you do...
Sant Ghoshal-Anand Goswami ‘pahunche huye’ siddh purush ya mahatma hn.Sundar Van ke ghane jungle me Aadiwasi basti se sata unka ‘Slddhashram’ h.swami ji vese to Raam Bhakti ki rasik shakha Sakhi Sampraday ke bhakt hn lekin vo Shiv Bhagvan ke nagn rup ke upasak bhi hn.Isi liye unke Ashram me ghuste hi ek sundar Shiva Ling sthaapit milta h. kaha jata h ki yeh ”Swaymbhu Lingam” h, arthat iska nirman kisi kaarigar ne nahin kiya, ye to uska apne aap bana prakritik rup h.ye nitya ling h. Swami ji ke...
Mandy's sickest stories - Mandy reloadedAuthor: SickoChickMandyAuthor's email: mandydarkfantasies [at] gmail [dot] comTags: F/f, torture, snuff, feet, nc, cannibalismProofread by EmmaPNote, that English is not my native language, so my writing will surely have many grammatical and syntax errors just as improper usage of expressions. I can only hope someone will still find it exciting. Be aware, this is graphic, brutal and extreme. I read it after writing and scared of myself.DisclaimerThis...
Andrew Running (part 1 of Andrea's Stand) Chapter 1: Running I called my Aunt Clara from the bus station. She didn't seem that surprised to hear from me and when I explained why I was there she told me to walk a couple of blocks to the local diner and get myself a cup of coffee. She'd pick me up in about half an hour. I sat and sipped chocolate milk and tried to eat a pastry while I glanced nervously out of the window waiting for my father to show up and force me into his...
My name is Rebecca. Everyone calls me Becca. I entered the police department right out of college. I progressed rapidly, through different divisions and assignments. I always had my eyes set on Robbery-Homicide and after six years of hard word and dedication, I finally made it. At age thirty, I was youngest female in the division for such a coveted assignment, but I was superb at my job. I made it because of my skill not my gender. It was Saturday. Dispatch called our number just after we had...
TabooApt. 1903, One-London Place, London, Ontario 5:22am, Sunday, December 2, 1979 Candi’s, mine and possibly Lynette’s deep and well deserved sleep was abruptly ended with Lisa’s plaintive, escalating cries of, “Candi, Candi! Candi! Candi!“ filled the good doctor’s apartment. I hate to say this but I nearly tossed Candi’s light weight body off the bed as she roused from her deep sleep on top of my chest. I had to get to my Bricky as fast as I could to see what was making her scream bloody...
by Millie Dynamite Jaden and I meet a few weeks after he transferred to the Naval base just outside of town. I sat on a bar stool sipping my Pappy Van Winkle when this tall African-American man in full dress uniform sat next to me. He whore captain’s bars. He possessed an air of authority. I nodded to him when perched on the next stool. He returned my nod with his own acknowledgment, in a deep voice he said, “Yo.” He spoke without looking at me. “I’ll have bourbon, make it a shot of Evan...
This is a story about seduction and transformation that’s written about a real-life sissy named Brandon Hippel, Brandon’s a cute little limp-wristed sissy-faggot from Abington Pennsylvania that loves to be humiliated and exposed online. She loves feminization, crossdressing, being exposed online, humiliation, anal play, degradation, being captioned, taking pictures, and talking to new people, so feel free to contact her through these various social media; Her kik is; HumiliationSlut2Her email...
Armand Wilson sat in his home office/study sighing. From the office, things had looked pretty good; business was on track, and Sharon appeared to be handling her new situation well. But in the car on the way home, Armand began getting bad vibes, and when he arrived at his mansion, things were even worse. Everyone on staff was walking around as if on eggshells. It took Armand about twenty minutes' worth of snooping, but the situation resolved itself -- the Hernandez' quarters were an armed...
Foreign trips are a mix of smoke and mirrors and public relations. What they usually aren’t is anything substantive. Nobody flies halfway around the planet to meet with the high and mighty without everybody knowing what is going to happen ahead of time. So why do them at all? For one reason, just like in any other form of business, it’s usually helpful to actually meet the guy you’re doing business with and look him in the eye. At the minimum you can start to get a sense of the other...
by Oediplex 8==3~ The sweetest mom discovers her boy is both convenient and delightful. [She also recounts when her dad fucked her at nineteen!] Like the name of Madame DeVille's moniker, Cruella, some names fit the personality they are bestowed upon. Disney came up with that evil woman's apropos handle. My mother's folks named their only child, a daughter, Candy. This was shortly before the infamous 1968 movie was out. Though there were aspects of mom that paralleled the...
A Foreign LandA story by Simone Locke ([email protected])FORWARD:After a long absence, here I go with another story that I hope you'll enjoy.I hit a dry spot while writing my last story "The Princess Game". I'm sure a lot of you are wondering why it ended so suddenly at the end. The truth is, my inspiration dried up as I wrote the next segment, and I thought I'd put something out rather than nothing.It's now two years and 15 failed books later. For all my attempts, I could write nothing...
“Ohh, Superman, where are you now? When everything’s gone wrong, somehow. The men of steel, the men of power, Are losing control by the hour.” (Note: Land of Confusion was written by Mike Rutherford of Genesis with the music credited to him, Tony Banks and Phil Collins. It was from Genesis’ 1986 album, Invisible Touch and reached number 4 on Billboards’ Hot 100 and number 8 on Canada’s RPM charts. The music video for this song did a wonderful parody of Britain’s Prime Minister Margaret...
I left a business seminar early with my co-worker Tom because the weather looked like it was taking a turn for the worst. It was only a 3 hour drive back to Hartford so we thought we’d have plenty of time to head off the incoming storm. Driving south through New Hampshire is picturesque any time of the year but during a fierce snow storm it has an almost eerie beauty to it. We talked shop in an effort to take our minds off the ferocity of the storm, but we had been driving for an hour and...
Stranded By Spectre Emily slammed her car door and cursed loudly. It wasn’t enough that the damn car quit on her on this empty country road, she was also out of range for her cell phone to work. She leaned against the door and looked around in frustration. She was stranded. It was all because she had become so bored. Everything just seemed so routine these days. She was tired of it. Her husband had left her over six months ago, running away with a woman he worked with. Good riddance, she...
Introduction: 3 pages, I hope you enjoy Page 1 – Blizzard – Co-worker, MF I left a business seminar early with my co-worker Tom because the weather looked like it was taking a turn for the worst. It was only a 3 hour drive back to Hartford so we thought wed have plenty of time to head off the incoming storm. Driving south through New Hampshire is picturesque any time of the year but during a fierce snow storm it has an almost eerie beauty to it. We talked shop in an effort to take our minds...
I know being stranded on a deserted island sounds far fetched but it can really happen, trust me I speak from experience. It had been my father's idea that the family take a south sea cruise to celebrate my recent graduation from college and to break in his new schooner. He had cleaned up recently on the stock market and wanted to celebrate. My mother had taken a vacation from her job and me and my sister was at loose ends until the fall semester started up again in a few months. I had decided...
IncestI had been hoping against hope that the flight would not be cancelled by the weather. They had already delayed it twice and the snow showed no signs of letting up. I had a wedding to attend on Saturday, the rehearsal and dinner and a final fitting of my bridesmaid’s dress on Friday. Plus, I had been lucky enough to finally schedule an interview with a potential client that I had been courting for over a month now on Thursday afternoon. Because the weather had been iffy, I had actually booked...
MatureDue to the limitations of plain text, I have used the accent mark, ', to denote a character's thoughts Stranded By Kellie "Cowgyrl" Thomas It was a beautiful day when we took off from the tiny airport just south of Cancun. Four of us were heading out for an expedition in Costa Rica. Our flight path was to take us out over the ocean for a quick look at some pristine islands off the Central American coast. These were the stuff of legends, uninhabited nodes of paradise in a chaotic...
StrandedBy Spectre Emily slammed her car door and cursed loudly. It wasn't enough that the damn car quit on her on this empty country road, she was also out of range for her cell phone to work. She leaned against the door and looked around in frustration. She was stranded. It was all because she had become so bored. Everything just seemed so routine these days. She was tired of it. Her husband had left her over six months ago, running away with a woman he worked with. Good riddance,...