Linda
Conscious once more of the passage of time, Linda went first to the powder room where she washed her hands and checked herself in the mirror. Returning to the kitchen, she then sat down on a chair near a window that overlooked the driveway, and waited for Patty to arrive with Julie.
Thankfully the voice was quiet now. And although, as always, the reasons for its comings and goings remained as much of a mystery as ever — the turmoil that it left behind was as certain as the knowledge that it would soon return.
The Girl Next Door
Mark paid little attention to the concept of morality. It seemed so malleable; one thing one moment, and another the next. However because he saw himself as an intellectual, he’d always been able to explain away his lack of commitment to it by convincing himself that he was philosophically bold, and intellectually fearless enough to discard old values in the face of current circumstances. But that was never really so. Instead it was the result of a weak, vacillating and narcissistic character that bent in whatever direction the prevailing wind was blowing. In the end making him little more than a social misfit with a self-inflicted case of moral entropy.
Now he was willingly giving up what little he still retained of it for the chance to possess a willful, egotistical, and dangerously intelligent child-woman who could destroy him with a few improvident words.
And he wasn’t even her first.
Alana
“Do you know what you need?” she asked.
“What?” he replied angrily.
“You need to hit me.”
Wordlessly, Alana then knelt on the floor and gazed up at him with a look that was an invitation.
“You know you want to,” she prodded.
Paul felt himself uncontrollably flexing and relaxing his muscles, as he readied himself to strike her one moment, only to recoil from it the next.
“You can do it,” she said encouragingly. “You want to. I want you to.”
The Glass Room
“Do you know what domination is?”
“Domination?” he asked incredulously, as he spun around to look at her.
“Yes, domination,” she said forthrightly.
“I’ve heard of it.”
“Have you ever done it?”
“No.”
“Ever thought about it?”
“No.”
“I think you have.”
She gave him no time to deny it.
“I want you to dominate me.”
Although Ben was shocked by what she said, the thought of rejecting the idea outright never occurred to him. Instead, to his surprise, something in the possibility of it immediately fascinated him.
Sara
Mona worked her hand back and forth, watching him carefully for signs beyond what she could feel that his passion was rising.
Although for Steve one moment passed fluidly into the next, Mona studied each blink of his eyes and twitch of his face until at last she was sure his time was rapidly approaching.
Then, suddenly letting go, she backed away.
Startled by the abrupt cessation of her touch, Steve gazed uncomprehendingly at her, only to see her staring back at him, her own face devoid of either passion or even interest.
Renovations & Reckonings
Dinner, which Mrs. Barici served in a congenial, but somewhat robotic fashion, was a tedious, yet for me, oddly entertaining mixture of forced friendliness and contrived conversation, punctuated by awkward silences during which only the sounds of forks clicking on china could be heard. Indeed on more than one occasion I caught my hosts exchanging sidelong glances that betrayed their impatience with the process of playing the roles required of them in order the lend an air of authenticity to what was in reality nothing more than an entirely fictional social event.
Their discomfort delighted me.
Sean & Katrina
“Oh God not that,” she said, averting her eyes in horror. “I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.”
“This is ruinous for everyone,” he replied, as one does who’s gazing towards a desperate future. “Us, our families, everyone,”
Just then, an old man with a little dog on a leash walked by, and noticing Katrina’s distress, paused to stare at her.
And though the look he gave her was undoubtedly one of curiosity, to Katrina it felt as though somehow he knew what they’d done.
The Vacation
Every night that Susan and I were together always ended in the same way. We walked hand-in-hand down the path that led from the clearing to the road, where we embraced, kissed, and went our separate ways home.
One night however, soon after we parted, I snuck back into my aunt and uncle’s house, and as usual, crept down the hall to the downstairs bathroom to wash up before bed.
Then, just as I began rinsing the soap from my hands and face, I thought I heard the distant sound of someone scream. Pausing for a moment, I listened again, but could hear nothing over the rush of water pouring from the faucet. Quickly turning it off, I stood motionless in the semi-darkness waiting for a sound, any sound, to come again.
But there was nothing.