Ron McIngle

oo- Prolog -oo Samantha Henley balanced precariously on the kitchen chair, trying to clean the upper right most corner of the window. The large window, the one that looked out onto the front area of the house. It wasn’t a bad view, although a bit more cluttered than looking out the back, but Sam had always thought that with just a little work it could be transformed into a peaceful and serene view. But she was never allowed out there unescorted, he never had any interest in landscaping, and when he did escort her out there, it was for something very different than cleaning. ...

11/30/2018 Excerpts from the diary of Tania Ferguson: “It’s time,” my father announced. It was no surprise, the three of us had been sitting, watching the clock, for almost an hour. It would take 20 minutes to walk to the town hall at the pace a family typically walked at. Less if done at the pace normally I used coming home from school. Much longer if dad wasn’t there to prod me along. ...

Grand Junction, Colorado Margie finished strapping the kayak down to the roof rack, then clipped the bicycle into the hitch carrier rack. After making sure that all was secure she went back into the house to collect the last of the items that she would need. The last step was to empty the ice maker into the ice chest. From her house in Grand Junction, Colorado, it was a 32 mile drive to the miniscule town of De Beque along Interstate 70, which took only 25 minutes, given the 75 MPH speed limit. From there it was a short drive down Old Highway 6 to where the highway crossed the Colorado River, where she left the bicycle locked to a tree. Another 9 miles up Old Highway six was another spot where she could access the river, via the road that led to the stone quarry, where she parked the car and unloaded the kayak. Within minutes she had transferred everything she needed into the storage compartment of the kayak and had started paddling downstream. ...

“Mr. and Mrs. Petersen, come in” the doctor said. “I am Doctor Lewis and I’ll be handling this case. This is regarding your daughter, Carla?” “Yes.” Mr. Petersen said as he extended his hand for a handshake. “We are so relieved that something is finally being done.” “I still think it’s a bit extreme” Mrs. Petersen said, the disapproval clear in her voice. “Honey, we talked about it.” Mr. Petersen said in exasperation. “It’s for her own good. Better to have her in a mental hospital where she can get care than with an abuser!” ...

Tammy greeted the technicians with a mixture of relief, trepidation, shame and arousal. The relief was in anticipation of getting the creditors off her back, as the installation of a MARD-5000 would pacify them for a bit and they would extend her credit. The trepidation was simply from fear of the unknown. The shame was from admitting that she was in this mess, and the arousal was from the online reviews she had read. ...

Mark Sorenson typed furiously, trying to complete the document prior to his 10:30 meeting. His subordinates kept trying to convince him that it would be faster if he simply dictated and let the computer do the work of getting it down into letters and words, but he was “old school”. While voice recognition had come a long way he still preferred to do it himself. “Old fashion” they call him. That’s okay, at least he knows that what gets written was really what he wanted to say, and not what the computer thought it heard. He was proud of being ‘old fashion’ in other areas. ...

The lights in Linda Slater’s cabin came on, as they were programmed to do, and along with a gentle beeping awoke her much earlier than her assigned schedule suggested. Even though it was 18:00 (6 PM) she still preferred to consider it to be “morning”, although in space, “morning” and “night” no longer had any meaning. Schedules for the 300 passengers and crew were divided into shifts, each staggered so that the load on the kitchen and recreation areas would be distributed. During most of the voyage there was nothing to distinguish one time period from another. No day, no night, no weekends, no Friday nights. A few “days” at the beginning, and a few at the very end of the voyage were the exception. ...

(story continues from Oberon 1: Fresh From Auction) Part 2: The Glass Wright’s Daughter Varina was accustomed to labor, having helped her parents in their shop since she was very little. The duties that her mentor showed her were mentally challenging, which was good, but not very physically demanding, which was also good. During her training period there were two doing the work of one so they usually finished early and then went about helping others in Lord Oberon’s house. ...

Sometimes you’re given lemons and you can make lemonade. Sometimes the lemonade just gets made for you. Take my in-laws moving to the desert for example. They retired, sold their Los Angeles area home for an incredible amount of money and bought a brand new house in the desert for 1/10th the amount. It’s great if you don’t have to work. The bad part was that family gatherings continued to be at their house. The problem was that it was no longer an afternoon affair; we had to pack up and make a journey. And stay a while. ...

(story continues from Pony for Rent 1: Training) Part 2: Competition “I’m afraid you have a bit more work ahead of you than I thought” Stephen confided. “As I said before, Showmanship is more about the handler than the pony, so I was thinking that we would automatically qualify for the semi-final round. But the judge’s decision is that because we haven’t competed together before we need to work our way up from the bottom. “ ...

Mary had been wearing the collar and wrist cuffs since she went to bed last night, as she found it easier to commit to a course of action when the ramifications were still a day off. Plus they often brought her interesting dreams. But now it was a new day and procrastinating would only make things worse. The padlocks were in place, assuring collar and cuffs would not be removed until she completed the program. The wrist cuffs could be cut off, as they were just leather, but at significant expense. The collar, on the other hand, was a heavy stainless steel model secured with a high security padlock. No tool she had access to would get that off without the key. Sooner or later, she would have to visit her personal trainer. ...

Some true self bondage experiences Bondage has been a kink of mine since I was very young. Self bondage is something I started playing with as soon as I moved out of my parent’s house. I am 54 years old now so I have been doing this for quite a while, although lately it has been getting more high tech. I have decided to share some of my more memorable experiences. ...

Part 1: Fresh From Auction Katrina said a silent prayer during the moment of silence that followed her bid. Somewhere behind her there was a rude comment that she ignored. The flies biting at any exposed flesh they could find were harder to ignore and she swatted at them subconsciously. Her nose wrinkled and eyes watered from the ammonia stench of livestock dung and the body odor of the predominantly male crowd. She was thankful that the slaves were the first items on the docket, ahead of the livestock. She was anxious to be on her way, not only because of the long trip ahead but because this place awakened bad memories. ...

Part 1: Training Thirty-seven and 29/100 Dollars—- Stacy wrote out the check, sealed it into the envelope and subtracted the amount. Balance = $18.47. Looking at the remaining stack of bills caused her stomach to knot and a general sense of despair to overwhelm her. The joke is that there is too much month left at the end of the money. In her case, there was too much semester left. During the summer she would find full time work to build up a bit of a buffer and wait tables during the school year to tide her by. But this semester, classes required for graduation were only offered at night, interfering with her waitress job. Now it was early spring and her summer savings had been consumed. ...

“So, what did you get on the test?” Karen asked as she caught up with Teri as she headed out of school. “An 89.” Teri said, the tone of her voice indicating disappointment. “Good for you!” Karen praised, although there was a bitter edge to her voice. “I got a 67!” “Ouch!” Teri said sympathetically. “Ah, not a problem anymore!” Karen said smugly. “Once I turned 18, my parents were locked out of my school account! Now it’s nobody’s business but my own! What’s even better is that they can’t beat us anymore! Once you turn 18 your parents can’t legally touch you! We’re adults now, responsible for our own selves.” ...