1 Liner Wednesday: Really Short Stories

Four of the five people who went to search for the missing daughter of Lord and Lady Mannheim didn’t return…eight years later and no one knows what happened to them.  The fifth member of the search party for the child returned, but had to be committed to an insane asylum  for the rest of his days.  As  for the child of Lord and Lady Mannheim, I can’t tell you what happened to her…if I tell you, YOU may need to be committed to the asylum yourself.

Dead Man’s Eyes

It was dusk and I was at the cemetery, putting flowers at my grandmother’s grave.  I was on my way out of there when he just sort of appeared out of nowhere.  White guy, about 5″8, medium build, wearing sunglasses with Wrangler jeans and a plaid button down.  he seemed to be walking aimlessly.

“Closing time,” he announced, “main gate will be closing and locked in ten minutes.”

“I know that,” I said, wearing the nasty look I wore any time a complete stranger proceeded to give me orders, “and anyway, who are you?”

“I’m Jake, I live here.”

“You what?”  My eyes all but popped out of my head.  “This is a cemetery, NOBODY lives here.”

“”My dad maintains the property,” he said, “I worked for a hedge fund right out of college but I got laid off last year, so I came here to help my dad, and we live up at the main house.”

“Oh,” I said, “I thought you were having a go at me,” I smiled, “my grandmother’s buried here, I just came to put flowers on her grave.  But like you said, closing time, so I’ll get out.”

“I didn’t get your name,” he said.

“Cara,” I told him.

“Well, Cara,” he smiled too now, “I hope I see you around sometime.”

“That’d be nice,” I said, “I live right in town, if you ever get into town.”

“Nah,” he said, “I don’t get into town…I’m kinda tied to this place.”

“Your dad keeps you pretty busy,” I said, “I get it.”

“Pretty busy indeed,” he nodded, “but it’s not all bad.  Maybe you’d like to come around sometime, round sunset or a little bit thereafter, I’m not so busy then.”

“Yeah, maybe,” I said, thinking he’s cute…kinda attached to home and family, but cute.  In a way, it was refreshing to see a grown man so attached to home and family.


A week later, I was back at the cemetery, at dusk.   My earbuds in my ears, The Rasmus playing, I walked through the boneyard looking for Jake.  Once again, he appeard out of nowhere.  How does he do that, I thought.

“What’re you listening to?” he asked.

“The Rasmus,” I said, “d’you like them?”

“Never heard of them,” he cocked his head sideways at me, “you got any Rolling Stones on that thing?”

“Rolling Stones, huh…you like to kick it ol’school,” I said, “I don’t, but I could get some.”

He took my hand and led me to an open area where no graves had been dug, no headstones planted.  I was surprised to see a picnic blanket spread out there.

“The perks of having my very own field,” he said.

“A picnic at sunset,” I said, “me and Morticia Addams are the only ones who appreciate it, and she’s married, so it’s a good thing you met me.”

“Yeah,” he said, “the Addams family is my favorite show too.”  You mean MOVIE, I thought, but didn’t say it.

The picnic consisted of fried chicken, watermelon for dessert, sweet wine, and Jake rubbing my feet.

“Do you mind if I smoke?” I asked after we ate.

“Not at all,” he said, “it’s not like you’re going to kill me with it.”  I couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not, but technically he said he didn’t mind, so I took that as tacit permission and lit up.

“Do you ever take those sunglasses off?” I asked him.  “I mean, it’s pretty much full dark out?”

“Yeah Jake,” a voice from somewhere behind him said, as a teenager, a blonde kid of about 15, strolled out from behind a tree, “tell her why you can’t take your sunglasses off.”  the kid was wearing sunglasses too.

“Go home, Nicky,” Jake said.

“No,” the kid said, “I wanna stay and have fun.”  He sat down on the picnic blanket with us.

“”Cara,” Jake said, “this’ Nicky, he’s…well, he lives here too.”

“Are you two brothers?”

“Oh not by blood,” Nicky chimed in, “but yeah, you could say that in a way, we’re brothers.”

“I get it,” I said, figuring they were step brothers, “and I’m sorry I asked about the sunglasses, really, it’s none of my business.”

“No, it’s OK,” Nicky said, “go on, Jake, tell her.”  Jake glared at him.  “If you don’t, I FUCKING WILL.”

“Language, Nicky, there’s a lady here.”  Jake said.

“”What’d he tell you,” Nicky demanded, “that ol’bit about how his father maintains this property and he helps out?”  I stared at Nicky, then at Jake.  “Yeah well, it’s all bullshit, honey.  His father don’t maintain jack shit, and neither of us LIVES here or any damn where else.”

“OK,” I stood up, “what in the hell is going on here?”  I heard the chirp of crickets.  “Somebody answer me, goddamn it!”

Jake took off his sunglasses.  “Look at my eyes,” he said.  I looked.  His eyes weren’t brown, hazel, green, or blue…they were black, like one would expect a crow’s eyes to be.

“What the…what ARE you?”

“I died in 1976,” he said, “been buried here ever since.  I wasn’t telling a big lie when I said I live here, or the lie wasn’t that I don’t live here but rather I don’t live, or at least not the same way you live.”  I could feel my own eyes getting bigger and wider.

“Yeah, if you’re dead, how the FUCK are you walking and talking?” I asked, half terrified.

“”We can all walk from our graves after dark,” he said, “me, Nicky, all of us…it’s been a well-kept secret for hundreds of years, and with good reason.  That’s why people are so scared of cemeteries at night, why so many ghost stories center around kids who hang out in the cemetery at night, where the whole myth of the undead came from.”

“This makes no sense,” I said, “no sense at all.”

“What, and McCain for President in 2008 made sense?” Nicky asked.

“Yeah, I see your point, a lot of things that don’t make sense happen, they happen whether we believe them or not.”

“You don’t believe, just wait,” Jake said.  So I sat down in the grass and waited.  About five minutes after I sat down, I saw a shape moving towards me…it came closer and I realized it was an elderly woman in what appeared to be the tattered remnants of a tea length dress.

“Holy shit,” I said, “OK, I believe, this is really happening.  But why, if this has been a well-kept secret for hundreds of years, have you opened up and shared it with me.”

“I like you, Cara,” Jake said, “and eternity gets very boring when you can’t leave this property.”

“You cant leave, but I’m in no condition to move in yet.”

“I know that,” he said, “but you can visit.”

“So…you want to date me.”

“Yes, exactly.”

“It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing I’ve done,” I said, you’re attractive, and I love the way you treat me.”

“****************************************************************************************************************************The next morning it was me walking forth from Jake’s gravesite, after a night of passions I didn’t think a clinically dead man capable (but somehow he WAS capable).  I had to keep the secret, I had to not disclose to ANYBODY the fact that Jake, and others like him could walk from their graves after dark, which meant I couldn’t tell anyone about the great guy I’d met.  I slipped out the main gates of the cemetery as people were streaming in for a morning funeral.  No one paid any attention to me.

They made a video for this one


Apocalyptica finally made a video to go with their song House of Chains, and it’s S & M themed, it’s dark, edgy, glam, a bit disturbed/disturbing…it’s EVERYTHING I love.  Yeah, I know, a video like this will never get any play on MTV, but MTV doesn’t show videos anymore, all they show is episodes of Teen Mom, so this video is all mine to watch on Youtube.

30 Days of Submission/Being Little

Day 30: Is your need to submit being met?  If not, or if your situation changed, do you think that you could continue in your life and still be happy/content  if you were never able to express your submission in the way that feels best to you again?  What makes submission special to you?

My need to submit isn’t being met 100%…I have no Dominant partner to submit to.  I have a great community of like-minded people, some of whom I know in real life, others I only know online, with whom I discuss BDSM, my need to submit, what it means to be a Little (specifically what the differences are between a Middle and other types of Littles), .  I re-read the novel Lolita from time to time, I re-read The Story of O, because I want to be with a Dominant partner in whom I trust so completely, the same way O trusted Rene.  I go to play parties every once in awhile, but the truth (well, MY truth)  is that while it’s wonderful to play strip poker or watch pony play couples engage in a chariot race (and everyone else cheers them on and places bets as if it’s our own personal Kentucky Derby), that whole idea of “yeah I went to a play party, I located a set of male genitals, and I fucked them” isn’t what I’m looking for at this point in my life.  I want a real, loving, lrelationship.  I want to know someonw before I fall into bed with him, know what he likes and doesn’t like, know how he takes his coffee so I can bring it to him in bed the next morning like a good girl.  So I’m looking for a person who wants that with me.  My need to submit will be met 100% when I find him.

30 Days of Submission/Being Little

Day 29: Is pain or humiliation (spankings, for example) a part of your submission?  What is your relationship to it?  Do you embrace it as part of your submission, tolerate it necessary, or have some other type of relationship with it?

Pain…spankings…uhhhhhhhhhh yes and HELL YES.  I have a masochistic streak in me, but it ranges from the “Oh please hurt me” to the “I’m gonna mouth off to you UNTIL and/or UNLESS you discipline me with corporal punishment” (or as I call it, the smart ass masochist) type of thing.  So yes, I embrace the spanking, choking, flogging, caning.

As far as humiliation goes, my own mother has been humiliating me for as long as I can remember and I don’t like when she does it.  Some would say being walked around on a leash by a man is humilating, but I don’t see it that way…I see it as he loves me so much and wants to protect me so he put me on this leash to make sure nothing happens to me.  So maybe I don’t have the same feelings about humiliation, what constitutes humiliation, that others in this lifestyle do.  I mean, if my partner were to spend 45 minutes explaining how and why I’m stupid, in a room full of people, that would be humiliating, and I wouldn’t enjoy or consent to that.  But the leash, I WANT that.

I also like watersports (no, not surfing and waterskiing) and I know some women think it humiliating when their man pees on or inside them, but I see it as a primal thing, much the way a wolf marks its teritory, and I very much want to be someone’s territory.

Now THIS is a live show


Ummmmmmmm, will the Miley Cyrus’, the Justin Biebers, the Ariana Grandes, the  Taylor Swifts, the Bruno Mars’, and the Nicki Minajs take note, because THIS is what a live show is supposed to look and sound like.  Rammstein at Madison Square Garden.  Till Lindemann is actually signing, he’s not relying on autotune or a backing track.  He looks……..well he wears those tight pants because he KNOWS his thighs look great, OK.  He’s wearing huge wings to perform a song called engel (that means Angel, for those of you who don’t know, or can’t get Google translate to work for you) but because he’s Till Lindemann, his wings are on fire, which goes nicely with the song, because it’s about how he’s NOT an angel.  There’s no lip synching, no auto tune, no choreographed dance break in the middle of the song, no “ladies and gentlemen, introducing my special guest [insert name of some douchebag]”, , and no “two turn tables and a microphone” it’s a guy singing and some other guys playing instruments, and, oh yeah, they happen to have stage presence.  The only fklashy trick used is the pyrotechnics, and I’d rather see that than see 20 minutes of dancers just aimlessly filling up the space.

30 Days of Submission/Being Little

Day 28: Has your submission ever let you down?  Have you ever been criticized for your submission?  Have you ever regretted being or feeling submissive in a moment or in a relationship?  Have you ever looked back and realized you made a mistake and how did you handle your submission going forward from that?

My mother, who doesn’t know that I’m into BDSM (let alone that I identify as a submissive) very often criticizes me for not being aggressive enough in life.  She’ll tell me “You’re not stupid” (which is the closest she’s ever come to complimenting me), but then follow that up with “you don’t do what’s necessary, you don’t knock people over, cut in line, to get what you want.”  And no, I don’t knock people over because, in Brooklyn, NY, you don’t know if or when the person you knock over gets up and points a gun or a knife at you (or has a family member in law enforcement and can make you go away on an assault charge).

I made so many mistakes in my last relationship.  I was always drunk, forone thing, and every beginner’s guide to BDSM says don’t play drunk.  I put up with verbal abuse in that relationship because I thought I deserved it.  I handle my submission, I handle LIFE IN GENERAL, differently now in that I’m sober (as in not a drop, not ever), and I’ve been working on my self-esteem in therapy for three years now, and I won’t put up with the kind of verbal abuse he dished out from anyone else.  Cracks about how I’m fat as a horse will not be tolerated any longer.  No, I am not the slimmest thing a man can fuck, but I LIKE MY BODY, and the requirement for fucking my body is that YOU have to like it as much as I do.

30 Days of Submission/Being Little 

Day 27: Do you have submissive desires or fantasies that you have yet to explore?  Do some of your desires confuse or frighten you?  Do they excite you?

One fantasy I’ve yet to explore is that of being a well-kept feedee, having a Daddy who loves me so much he lets me eat all my favorite foods and loves every curve, even if/when I get too big to wear shoes.  This fantasy excites me, but leaves me feeling conflicted because actually going through with it (letting myself get that big) would limit my life, my quality of life.  Of course, the fact that this fantasy leaves me feeling conflicted adds to the excitement.

30 Days of Submission/Being Little

Day 26: What are the qualities you seek in a Dominant partner and why?  Are some qualities deal breakers as in “must haves” or “must not haves”?

In all honesty, I’m not seeking anything or anyone so outrageous.  My ideal Dominant partner is male (because I’m a heterosexual female; is honest (because I’ve been with someone who wasn’t honest, and that wasn’t fun); respects me as a person & my hard limits (again, because I’ve been with someone who didn’t, and it wasn’t fun, it was a hell on earth, and NOT IN A GOOD WAY); is patient with me (because I’m not always patient with myself); owns a belt (because the masochist in me LOVES the sting of the leather against my bare bottom); has big hands to choke me with (because I LIKE to be choked); is not married (because I won’t be the other woman, the dirty secret you hide from all your “real” friends); says “Of course I’m gonna use protection”, and then uses protection (because I’ve been with guys who say “Yeah, I’ll use protection” and then they somehow forget the condom); understands that even though I’m a perpetual fifteen year old when I’m in Middle Space, my body is thirty-eight years old, and so no, I won’t be getting my legs behind my head when we make love (because it’s fun to play bossy Russian gymnastics coach & the young girl who has no money to pay for the lessons, but my body’s not as flexible as that of an actual young gymnast, or as slim); oh yeah, and someone who likes butt stuff as much as I do.