Room 2D

Short and sweet, from Blushes 11 Long summer evening; the sun’s heat through the day has made the atmosphere up in the loft room warm and humid. Laura hears him downstairs, taking his time  —  she kneels on that chair and tugs her knickers up so that her bottom will be ready for one or other of those things in his horrible box. Fresh-bared skin feels sweat-damp in the still air. He usually likes to have her like that, although sometimes  — ‘Hope you’ve got your knickers down, Laura!’  —  his voice from the foot of the steep stairs. ‘Y-yes  — ’   she calls, and slips her pants down quick as she can before his head appears at floor level at the top of the steps. Warm slidey moistness as the tugged-up tightness between her cheeks pulls from between the chubby snugness of her buttocks. ‘Now then, young lady  — ’ Laura gulps miserably, and pushes her ‘naughty little bottom’ out with uninte...

A story from Janus 47 by R T Mason Albert Higginson, staring intently, made muttered sounds of stern disapproval. It shouldn’t be allowed; it was disgraceful; it was a pity there wasn’t some kind of  law  against it. One might ask, if it upset him so much, why Albert had to  look . He could have been doing something else, various things, rather than staring so intently out from behind his bedroom curtains. And if the sight angered him so much why was he using his bird-watching binoculars, to magnify and clarify every detail? What Albert was gazing at with such concentration, such rapt disapproval, was his recently-new neighbour, Melanie Halford — Mrs Melanie Halford — 23-years-old and very comely. He was gazing at her rear view as she hung out washing; more specifically he was gazing at the tight seat of her jeans. They  were  tight, skin-tight like an exceptionally well-fitting glove, over ripely rounded haunches. So tight that at 30 yards with good binoc...

From Janus 19 White as a sheet and petrified of what lies ahead, Polly Smyth returns home from school. Not at the usual time, however, and not to ‘home’ as most of us would think of it. Polly has been sent home by her headmistress in the middle of the day after being caught cheating in a mock exam. She was spotted by the invigilator furtively consulting a pocket French dictionary concealed in the waistband of her navy blue school skirt. Appalling this misdeed may be, but it is merely the latest and most serious in an endless series of offences Polly has committed against school rules. Because of the pathetic abolition of corporal punishment at Polly’s school, all her headmistress can do is send a misbehaving girl home and telephone her parents to explain the reason. Polly’s case is slightly different because she is an orphan who has lived with a succession of foster parents who found her too difficult to cope with. She ...