Tuesday Tales Week 59

Good Girl

It smelled like horses. And dust.

Sun beating down, sweat pooled, slick in crevices waiting for His touch.

Behind her knee.

Inside her elbow.

The small of her back.

Underneath the scrap of lace she wore.

He wanted her like this. So exposed, where astonished eyes lingered. Slut. Whore. The anathema to everything sacred and holy.

Show me what’s mine, His eyes said. Offer me everything.

She lifted the lace, spreading her legs, waiting for Him reduce her to begging in front of the horses, the dust, God and all.

He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “Good girl.”

Honorable Mention. Judge Rebecca R Kovar says:

The build up is beautiful and the tone nice and steamy, while at the same time being profoundly uncomfortable. It reads like addiction, and I kept going back for another taste.


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