Jack and I had gotten away with the perfect murder, so why did I feel so shitty? And, as Jack had said, "The bitch deserved it!" She did, if anyone did, so why did I feel so shitty? The police were at a complete dead end, no closer now to solving it than they were last week. So why did I feel so shitty? I just did is all.
The luscious, highly oversexed Malomar Twine. My Malomar Twine. Our Malomar Twine. That Malomar Twine! Maybe that's why I feel so shitty . . .
Drawn home by Lavender Town's anual Halloween festivities, Miranda, Misty and their pokemone find themselves standing alone against the vengeful fury of an evil older than the Tower itself...
In the privacy of an interview room, the host of a syndicated televison show is asked to appraise some things, a woman brings in, which are a little out of the realm of this appraiser's expertise. The story is written in dialogue form and it should be simple enough to follow. Your feedback regarding my story: "When the Men Come Over" was most appreciated. I invite your e-mail feedback on this one as well.
One of the SF authors posted something about the Golden Age of Science Fiction. Sounded a bit pompous to me so I decided a pardoy was in order. Imagine a high school boy with a mind control machince. Yep, every guy's fantasy, if you ask me.
That classic fairy tale of witches and cannibalism, "Hansel and Gretel" (you know, for kids!) has FINALLY been updated for modern times, and especially for Femdom fans. With a side serving of incest, too!