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Dominance in Despair: Chapter 8Chapter 8: Discovery
The lights in the living room were turned off, the massive bay windows leaking in the dim light outside through the falling mountain snow. A young man, no older than 10, sat expectantly on the floor at the feet of an older man, easily in his early twenties, sitting in a plush leather seat. The older man's face was chiseled and firm, like something only seen in the movies. His short black bangs hung over his eyes as he looked down at his younger counterpart, whose own black hair was spiked up.
Between them was a young woman, couldn't be over 17 years old. Her long blond locks hung over the front of her body, the hair obscuring her nipples the only thing that covered her. She clinged to the older man's leg like a whipped dog, her fingers digging into his slacks.
"You see, Little T," the older man started, "That's our family legacy. Dad taught me, just as Grandfather taught him, and so on." He looked down at the younger counterpart, ruffling the woman's hair.
Dominance in Despair: Chapter 4Chapter 4: Breakdown
Marge blinked as she opened her eyes. She glanced at her alarm clock. 6 PM. She sat up, shaking her head, her beehive waving like a ship's mast in a stormy sea. "Must have drifted off..." She remembered lying down in her bed to collect her thoughts, at some point she must have fallen asleep.
Standing up, Marge felt the fabric of her dress with her hands. Feeling a little dirty from sleeping in her clothes, Marge winced a little and opened her closet. Reaching behind her, she unzipped her green dress and let it fall to the floor.
The setting sun cast slanted rays of light across her silhouette through her drawn blinds as she leafed through her selection, settling on a white t-shirt and blue work out shorts. Selecting a plain white bra from her underwear drawer, Marge sat on the edge of her bed. Laying back and stretching a little, feeling the comforter crawl against her back, she sighed a little happily from the feeling of the warm rays of the sun splashing across h
Dead Man's SwitchIn control, then not -
Sudden loss of grip.
Headlong to where?
Details lost, smudged, streaked.
Careening; no system of
No dead man's switch,
On a fast track -
With or without a god?
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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More