Email this sample to a friend




Copyright Cassie Caine 2012

All rights reserved.


Adrian Kent stood patiently, waiting to be called into service. He was completely nude. His posture – feet slightly apart, hands behind his back – showed off his rounded belly, spongy midriff and droopy two inch penis. He seemed all the more naked for being utterly devoid of hair. These days even his head was shaved, although he had been allowed to keep his eyebrows.

Seated in front of him at a table decorated with candles and bunches of anemones, his beloved mistress Imogen, the Bitch Goddess, was enjoying a farewell dinner with her paramour, Norbert Fischer-Dieskau, who was returning to Germany for the Easter holiday. Adrian had slaved over every detail of the meal, which was taking place in his flat.

For several months last year, Adrian had lodged with Imogen and her mother, but then the Bitch Goddess had decided she wanted him to get a fuckpad of his own. So Adrian had found himself some rooms in this lane off the High Street, up a creaking wrought-iron staircase over a shop selling souvenirs and greeting cards. It was cramped, and in the mornings he would sometimes have to turf sleeping tramps off his steps, but it made up for it with charm. Narrow windows provided glimpses of the cathedral steeple to one side and the crowns of the trees in the municipal gardens to the other, there was a living room crammed with his books, a bedroom just big enough for a double bed, a reasonably well-equipped kitchen and a bathroom where he had hung a framed aquatint of Coventry Patmore.

Previous Page Next Page Page 1 of 50