Double Trouble

Two shorts for you this week. One loosely based on a true story, and one a little more out there.


“More please,” he said, wriggling his foot under the afghan.

She rolled her eyes, “You’re lucky I love you,” she said. She opened the hope chest, pulling out a heavy quilt and draping it over him. He smiled but gave another little wriggle.

“And you have to promise to tell me if you get too hot,” she said, looking down at him with her hands on her hips.

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Posture Practice: Part 2

Doms scream, subs scream, we all scream for ice cream.


“Ready for your dessert?” she asked, taking his dishes with hers and walking them to the sink. She paused for a moment, then placed them in using her arms as much as possible and her waist as little as she could.

He stepped into the kitchen, leaning in to whisper against her ear. “I think it’s more of a second course,” she shivered. Which only made her whimper. “We’ll have dessert at home. I think you’ll have earned a treat by then.”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir,” she said, gratefully accepting his hand on her back as he guided her towards the door. There was a sweatshirt and a pair of loose sweatpants already folded there, which he helped her get into. It didn’t hurt too much.


“You know, your sneakers might be better since they give you support, but getting them on would be hell.”

“I’ll be fine in my sandals, Sir.”

The one block walk to the ice cream shoppe was the biggest challenge yet. Every step sent twinges of pain through one part of her or another. Even with his arm to hold on to, it was hard to keep steady footing across the uneven ground.

“I’ll get it; you just find a good spot for us to eat,” he said. “Teaberry and rainbows?” he asked.

She started to nod her head, gasping before she had tilted it much. “Yes please…”

He walked over to the line while she slid over to a countertop on the side of the building. It looked just the right height… it was! She had to stand up on her toes a bit, but it was worth it to lean in and relieve the pressure. Thank God. She glanced at the stool next to her. It’d hurt to get on, but it might be more comfortable in the long run… And that was when a kid ran by, knocked into the stool, and it hit her hip. She sucked in a long breath, managing not to scream at him and get them kicked out when a dish of ice cream appeared in front of her face a moment later.

“No cone?” she asked, surprised. “I thought you liked watching me eat my ice cream that way.”

“I do,” he said, taking a long, slow lick of his cone. “But I thought this would be easier, and even I only have so much sadism for one night.”

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