Started 1pm Sat, written standing up at desk ,on a laptop on top of a stand on desk,wearing my yellow satin shortie nightie and wrap, fluffy 4” mules ,my rose collar with chain attached to it running to desk fixture. For the purposes of this story I have set it in the summer.

I await excitedly, but with trepidation for her flight to arrive, standing in my short black mini, a tight white mini t shirt over a black bra and my D breasts, a short black jacket, black satin panties and 4” black heels.

To See Through a Glass Darkly

Chapter 13

Sasha dozes off to find himself dreaming dreams of what he's lost and what he's gaining.

Julian

Sometimes a name is all you need, and sometimes its the wrong name

Last Full Measure
By Ellie Dauber  © 2010

This is another story of Jakov Pauli, an assassin who specializes in identity death.

* * * * *

For the third time, Mike Ryan stared up from his booth at the clock on the wall of the diner. “14:33 hours,” he mumbled under his breath. “He’s late.”

“In point of fact,” a voice said, “that clock is five minutes fast. I am early.”

Mike spun around. A tall, slender man — about 40, Mike guessed — stood looking down at him. “Are you Pauli?” Mike asked.

By K.T. Leone

(Little Katie)

Part VIII: The Guest

Home leave.

Fiction by Johnny Cumlately

The envelope was addressed to Steve Smith, The Cottage, Combe Farm, in familiar writing and the post mark said "BFPO 952." Inside was a photograph of an attractive girl dressed in Army desert combat uniform. She wore a regimental beret, camouflage shirt with corporal's stripes, trousers and army boots. The picture was taken at an angle so that the outline of her breasts was clearly visible. Her hair was tied back and she had just a hint of makeup. Very obviously female. There was a short note:

Like all inhabitants in the Land of Dalembrine, the Maker created Foulkes to serve a single purpose, to play his role in bringing harmony for all. But in crafting Foulkes, the Maker proved to own a sense of humour. How could a discordant note fit into the symphony of life?

A twist upon a familiar nursery rhyme.

Issue 1: Enter Aria Blade

When we last left our heroine, she had just escaped the clutches of her apparent nemesis, the dark sorceress Raven Wing. A psychic shockwave disrupted Raven’s focus allowing Aria to slip free, but so wracked with pain was the villainess that she called out, begging the heroine not to abandon her.

Aria Blade bid a hasty retreat, but as the crisp night air washed over her gold-trimmed white costume and her exposed flesh, she turned to stare back at the ruin, Raven Wing’s pleading words echoing in her mind.

.

Sometimes, it is what you do that matters. Sometimes, it is who you are. Usually it is just being in the proper place at the proper moment in time with the will to act.