psb-kinks

The roar of conversation fell to a rumble as Lady Catherine Sutton fled from the great hall and retreated through the castle to her rooms. Her father was too busy arranging her marriage to notice that she had slipped away. It was time, Catherine told herself and ignored the shaking of her hands as she fumbled with the door. Stepping inside, she breathed a sigh of relief that Maude, her maid, was elsewhere. She’d had a lie ready, but it was simpler this way. She wasn’t a very good liar. Catherine crossed to the corner and pulled the heavy drapes out of the way. Her valise was hidden there, along with the monk’s robe that s

Elves did not feel the cold or hot like mortal men. They felt only the most intense of temperatures. What would freeze a man solid the elves would wear capes against. What would scorch the flesh off a man’s bones would redden the skin of an elf. Elves were taller, stronger, more graceful. They could speak the languages of the beasts that mortal men ate and commune mentally with the plants that grew in their forests. They considered mortals brash and foolish and spiteful. While men battled over land and honour, elves walked all the lands unheeding of borders or wars. They asked the land’s permission, they would explain, and the l

The office buzzed around her. Phones rang, voices bubbled, computers beeped alerts. The space beside her was empty, a temporary reprieve that allowed her to log into her personal e-mails unseen. She was waiting for news. Scanning the list of new e-mails, she minimised the window with frustrated disappointment. Forcing her mind to her work, she worked through her to-do list. She’d written it yesterday knowing that she wouldn’t be able to focus while she waited. It helped guide her into looking busy. The office was open-plan so it wasn’t like she could brood out of sight, biting her nails and not working. Her work barely ha

The courtroom full of monsters was quiet. Neither species was known for its restraint so the silence hummed with suspicion and dislike. Unlike mortal courtrooms, this one had a judge who could not fully understand what was going on. Or what would happen to him once the case was closed. The door at the end of the aisle opened and two figures stood framed inside it. From one side of the room, growls rumbled in chests. On the other side, fangs flashed. The figures walked forward. One was small and slim, perfect blonde curls bouncing as the girl walked silently forward. Her face was pale, her eyes wide and dark. The other was tall and hulking,

The nagging pain in Derek’s side was proof that he was alive. With the sun beating down on him and the hot sands almost burning through his clothes, he really wished he wasn’t. He had almost died on the battlefield that morning. One moment too slow and his head would have been severed from his body. But he’d been quick. He didn’t relish war. He hadn’t enjoyed killing those men. But when your King led you to the edge of the battlefield, you followed. When he made his speech and lifted his sword, you cheered. When he let loose his battle cry, you ran into the fray. Derek moved his arm slowly until his eyes were

Marilene rose with the dawn. She bathed and dressed herself under the growing strength of the day, and when she left her small tent, walked East. She would walk straight towards the sun and keep walking until it had passed over her head. When it had, she would make what she could out of what the Gods provided. If it was their will, she would walk as far, but no further, as the river that flowed still and deep. There she would find food and shelter easily. If the Gods willed it, she would cross the rope bridge and walk the plains. That would bring her to the wild hunting grounds where food was scarce and the danger of the large cats loomed l

He was sure at what point he’d just accepted that this was his life now. He distinctly remembered laughing at the ridiculous notion that the realtor had when he’d purchased the house. He had to give her credit, she’d tried her best to convince him. Cautiously he stood in the bathroom doorway. He frowned around and wondered if it was as empty as it looked. “All I want is a shower,” he said and felt like an idiot. He edged slowly into the room, and only took off his socks before getting into the shower. He pulled the curtain, and undressed fully. He chucked his clothes around the edge, revealing only his arm. H

Keeping up appearances was of vital importance to Lady Wrothe. Even as her husband snuck into their marriage bed just before dawn, she voiced no complaint that he smelt of liquor and smoke. He thought that no one knew of his penchant for dice and cards, but everybody did. When her friends – and those few vicious acquaintances that one just had to put up with – hinted at her husband’s love of gambling she would laugh gaily and pretend it was just a bit of fun. He was good in a way; he had given up control of his accounts to her so that she could protect their future. That had been long ago, of course, and lately he had trie

So. She had done it. Six months ago she’d been overweight. She’d hit her moment, as her mother had said. Her moment when she was fed up with herself and was not only willing to try, but actually ready to do it. Now she standing in front of her bedroom mirror, wearing her “goal-weight dress”. She took a long, hard look at herself. Where she’d had round softness, she now had a faint curve. She’d been bulbous where she was now flat. She’d been cuddly where she was now desirable. The material of the dress draped better on her figure. It didn’t stretch over a too-big belly, or start wedging itsel