Note this story contains sexual scenes if vague.

While this really can't happen it does make for an interesting story.

“Oh. Hmm hmm hmm,” he hums as he zips open his bag and gets out what looks like two tickets of, hold on, I think I know that! “No way. No way! Are those...”

“Yeah.” He nods with a swagger. “Yes, they are. Tickets to Franco’s concert. I got them–Billy, you’re choking me!”

We live in a world where emotions can lift people from their sorrows as easily as drown them within. They cause you to strive for something better or hold you back, wielding control both unmeasurable and unmistakable. But what if, for some, emotions held a tangible power, if they could use the emotions of the world for their own benefit? What is the chance that someone would abuse that gift?

We live in a world where emotions can lift people from their sorrows as easily as drown them within. They cause you to strive for something better or hold you back, wielding control both unmeasurable and unmistakable. But what if, for some, emotions held a tangible power, if they could use the emotions of the world for their own benefit? What is the chance that someone would abuse that gift?

We live in a world where emotions can lift people from their sorrows as easily as drown them within. They cause you to strive for something better or hold you back, wielding control both unmeasurable and unmistakable. But what if, for some, emotions held a tangible power, if they could use the emotions of the world for their own benefit? What is the chance that someone would abuse that gift?

We live in a world where emotions can lift people from their sorrows as easily as drown them within. They cause you to strive for something better or hold you back, wielding control both unmeasurable and unmistakable. But what if, for some, emotions held a tangible power, if they could use the emotions of the world for their own benefit? What is the chance that someone would abuse that gift?

We live in a world where emotions can lift people from their sorrows as easily as drown them within. They cause you to strive for something better or hold you back, wielding control both unmeasurable and unmistakable. But what if, for some, emotions held a tangible power, if they could use the emotions of the world for their own benefit? What is the chance that someone would abuse that gift?

This story is the sequel to “A Cold Morning in Toronto,” inspired by Dorothy Colleen’s Weblogue “Minus 35 degrees Celsius” that she posted January 16th, 2012.

There’s cold, and then there’s cold!

Connor and Caitlin only moved to Toronto with their mother less than two weeks ago. Then today the schools are closed. So what can they do home alone, in the cold, with the power down?

I'm nor sure how long I was unconscious, but when I woke up, I could feel my ass was sore and sticky - it had been no dream. Before I even opened my eyes, I knew my life had changed - not because I'd had sex with a man, but because of what it had made me feel.

"You loved it."

It wasn't a question. My ex-girlfriend, now dressed again, was sitting on the bed. The men were gone.

"It's funny to think you turned out to be more feminine than me."

"Who were they? The men?"

Amiss — Epilogue.
by
Angharad.
The very last in this series.

True to the Professor's words David did return with a can of pop. Pepsi, not diet of course, however he at least managed to get her a straw of sorts. The Slurpee straw with it's spoon type end wouldn't but much use in a small can of cola. David handed it to her along with the straw. His big hands dwarfing her tiny hands as he did so. What took him less than his one hand took her two to catch. It was also no surprise that after handing over the can her own hands were a bit black as well.

Kit and Kin   by poetheather

 
Takeshi Saito was a quiet student who kept his head down in Ravencrest High School trying to get along. But strange things happen in this small town and the spotlight finds those who would rather hide. So Takeshi finds himself pulled from his happy geek corner to somewhere else, somewhere he is not sure of.

I was reading yet another petticoat punishment story when my muse wanted to know what happens afterwards. This is my attempt to answer that.