Short Story, Anti-Hero
Always Leave Them Smiling
Tying Susie up and whipping her until she screamed stimulated more areas than I thought possible
The wind howled around the corners of the cabin.
I looked at the cover of the book, “Terror at Bobby’s Lodge.” A trashy horror story. I mean, a well-structured sentence would surely read:
The wind whistled through the rafters.
Laying down in the compact bed of the lorry’s cab I thought back to my English teacher. He’d encouraged my thirst for literature and acting. My family couldn’t have cared less. I should have studied English A’ level but instead was working at sixteen, in a knicker factory, packing. Any free time I had was spent at the local amateur dramatics group in Leeds.
But it was at work I discovered my real talent — making women happy. I would get heckled whenever I went to collect the lingerie from the machinists,
“Come on cutie, wanna get your hands on my knickers?”
Initially I blushed, but soon retaliated, “As long as they’re clean, love.”
Always leave them smiling.
Can’t tell you how their faces shone. I possessed the power to give them that moment. But it was…
