The Wrong Roadie
I'm Riley, I'm thirty-four, and I've been thinking about this for longer than I want to admit out loud.
Stories in BDSM tagged dry and wry, ranked by how many readers finish them. Reads run 13 to 19 minutes. Writers to know: Solstice Story, Lantern of Kestrel and The Slate Grammar. Readers usually start with “The Wrong Roadie” and “The Glycerol Ratio”. Some are free to read in full; the rest open with a free preview.
I'm Riley, I'm thirty-four, and I've been thinking about this for longer than I want to admit out loud.
I am on my back on the cold stone floor of the archive kitchen with my arm up to the elbow in the sink drain when I hear boots in the…
Kimmy, twenty-eight, dispatcher for a construction materials supplier, sat in her car outside the trailhead and thought about cargo.
Zara Dempsey was twenty-nine years old and had sworn off romance back when she was twenty-three, after a hotel guest named Glen had seemed…
I moved to the island in October for a film shoot, which sounds more glamorous than it is.
Don Carroll was fifty-four years old, and he had spent most of those years holding the needle instead of the rope.
Milo Kerr had lasted exactly forty minutes into the reception before the small talk got to him.
Katrina Mueller had won the club championship seven times, and she had torn the seat seam of her tuxedo trousers during a practice swing…
The car had been making that noise for a week.
I signed the lease on a Thursday and slept on a mattress on the floor that same night, and I have never in my life felt so pleased with…
Marian was twenty-eight and Ren thirty-five, and both of them were old enough to know their own minds, which mattered later, but not yet.
I woke up on the leather bench with a blanket tucked around me and a dull ache everywhere that mattered.
I'm fifty-four years old and I've been nervous about this Tuesday night for two weeks.
Rafael here.