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Home Again Home Again

I am sitting in an American airport on a layover before making the final flight home. I will be waiting in the Indianapolis Airport for a few hours to pick up my wife, and then I will be home with my kids. I really enjoyed Ireland but I gotta say,


That really about sums it up. Although I do wonder if anyone enjoys reading the random bits that I always start with. I am thinking of switching the posts around so that the story comes first. I am also thinking that I should title the posts with the story title. If any of you have an opinion, I would love to hear it.

I will be posting other bits about my trip but for now, I am tired and I am going to keep this short. I just want to share one bit of good news.

I have received confirmation of one of my new stories, “Wild Feast”, being selected for inclusion in an Upcoming anthology from Siren’s Call Publications. This marks my fourth piece with that fantastic group and my first acceptance of 2013. It was a great piece of mail to get while I was on my trip and I can’t wait to share the details with you once I have them.

Until I do have them, cheers.

L. E. White

Foreign Fare

As my wrists burn from the strain, I am forced to admit to just how much of an idiot I am. You always hear stories about stupid tourists, but I always thought I was too smart for that. I always thought that I would be smarter than that.

Now, as I hang from the ceiling, I realize that I am just as stupid as every other penis carrying card member of the, “I think with my dick” club.

She was so beautiful, walking towards me in that skirt, her hips swinging from side to side so much that I thought about the time when I got two cats to fight inside a burlap sack. Her hair was long and curly and it bounced up and down on her shoulders as she came closer.

When she got closer, I noticed that the bouncing of her hair was matched by by the bouncing of her breasts. I assume my jaw must have dropped open when I realized that she wasn’t wearing a bra under that thin shirt. I know the rest of me reacted to that knowledge but I figured she noticed my gape mouthed stare when she asked me if I saw something I liked.

It was cold, but she still stopped to talk to me. I don’t remember saying much that made any sense, but she laughed and asked if I wanted to join her for a drink.

I was so focused on her body, I can’t remember if I answered or just nodded.

The rest of the night was a blur. I have images of drinks and flirting and gentle touches where finger tips brush the back of one hand or another but nothing more specific.

Until I woke up in a drafty old castle, chained to a ceiling with a nasty headache and the realization that I was in serious trouble.

I hear the clicking of heels on stone as she approaches. I don’t want to show any fear, but I am shaking so bad my teeth are chattering when she comes in.

“Oh, you poor darling, are you cold?” She walks over, and runs her hands up and down my back. Looking into my eyes. “Would you like me to let you go?”


She smiles and her eyes smolder. “First things first, I think I want to warm you up a bit.”

Her hands are wandering around to some of the most distracting places.

“Would you like me to warm you up?”

“Please let me go.”

She stops allowing her hands to wander and undoes my pants. The change in tactic is sudden, but she is really giving it her all to change my mind. I can’t help but to react when she raises up from where she was kneeling on the ground. “Are you sure you want me to let you go right now?”

I answer without thinking. “Please don’t stop.”

“Are you asking me to warm you up?”


She kneels back down and pulls my belt out of my pants. Then, this angelic looking creature shoves it into my mouth as a gag before she walks away.

I am hanging, gagged, with my pants around my ankles, as I listen to the clicking of her heels fade away and return. She walks around the corner and that is when I start trying to scream around my gag. I realize how stupid I am and it is too late to do anything about it.

She is wearing a hungry smile and carrying a gas can.

Categories: Horror, Writing
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