Welcome to the Weekend Writing Warriors challenge. My hope is that over the next six months you’ll see either an excerpt from a piece I’m working on or a nice & tidy 8-10 sentence flash fiction story (like the one below). Check out other writers at the link above and the Weekend Writing Warriors twitter #8sunday.


“I am going to rip your guts from you slowly, delicately, my love,” Mischa promised her prisoner.

The red headed gaunt man whimpers silenced against the ball gag attached to a scarlet silk scarf tightly tied around his head.

Mischa fingered the flechettes hanging on the wall against a velvet background; loved the prick of the cat o’nine tails against the tips of her fingers.

The playroom her mother built for her underneath their sprawling family estate had gone unused until today; her Natal day.

The man; her new husband of only a few hours was a treat given to her when she was only 12. He thought he would have his way with her; through drunken revelry he confessed he’d been desperately waiting for this natal day to arrive.

She’d merely smiled; plied him with more wine, watched him dance with her handmaidens and flirt with the buxom bar maids she’d hired for the evening.

When he awoke two days ago strapped to the St. Andrews cross, he begged and pleaded to be released. The memory of his whimpering as delicate trickles of blood dripped onto the pure white stone drove her to near madness with ecstasy.

“Now my love,” Mischa whispered, as she reached for a spiked steel riding crop, “where shall I begin tonight.”

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