Teach Me to Be a Good Boy

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This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this book are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. *** "Jenny, can you to put the props in the Prop Room before you head home? You know how Alan is about things being in their place." "Sure," Jenny gave her coworker a weary smile as she went to grab the props. Working in Hollywood seemed like it was going to be a glamorous gig. Oh sure, it's the old cliche: small-town girl goes to big city to make it big. Jenny hadn't wanted to be an actor; she wanted to be a director. BIG difference. Okay, she knew it was the same trope, but no one in her small knit hometown in Missouri believed she could do it. And being the fiercely independent woman she was, Jenny sought out to prove people wrong. 'So what

In a pre-Internet world, stories like this would almost always start with, "Dear Penthouse Forum." Today, there is no universal opener of that ilk, and few are the sources of literary porn capable of triggering a horny man's (or the occasional woman's) imagination well enough to satisfy. When gold is everywhere, it glitters less brightly. Shall we revive the phrase? Can it rise like a Phoenix? We shall see... Dear Penthouse Forum, I never thought anything like this would happen to me, but I had an experience this past weekend that I had to tell you about... I moved to a new part of town recently, and was forced to find a new hair stylist. Luckily, a friend from work lives fairly close by. He gave me a referral to the girl he uses, so I made an appointment with Han. I would learn later that in Vietnamese, Han means 'moral, or faithful'. As it turned out, she was neither. Due to COVID restrictions, and because she is in demand, I had to wait more than a week t

Hello, my name is Hank, 25 yrs old and making a good buck working as a motorcycle apprentice mechanic. Dad got his sorry ass in deep trouble by embezzling one hundred grand from work to gamble on horses, ponies, dogs, just about anything, and is now serving time in the black-bar hotel. I guess when a guy has gambling in his blood, it doesn't matter how he feeds his hobby. He should have known that he would never win that money back and frankly I lost a lot of respect for him. It really stinks as we talked about getting motorcycles and riding all over but that is gone now, right into the sunset. Well if he didn't worry about doing time, I'm not. I picked up a good old 91 Harley Sportster 1200 and I'm having a great time. Mom is about forty-eight years old and recently started to don glasses while reading the paper, phone book, and Daniel Steele novels. What also makes her look so 'hot' is the neck chains of small pearls or purple glass beads, the glasses being

"Are you there?" The hoarse voice of a young man comes again in the near-dark. Scarecrow crouches low in the shadows along the fence, feels her heart thumping, wipes the tears from her nose and cheek. She tries to calm her breath, wills herself to be composed. As composed as a girl can be... like this! Naked, whipped, sunburned, sore and sniveling, a humiliating mess! The young man stands silhouetted a few meters from where she hides. In the bluish light of the moon, she cannot make out his features. "Don't mean you no harm," he says. "You still buck nekkid?" Scarecrow swallows hard, shakes her head in something like disbelief. The crickets in the grass along the tractor road are silent. There is only the whine of mosquitos at her ears, the sound of her breath, her racing heart. She crouches even lower, biting her lip to fight the pain at her rear. Wishes she could disappear. "It's okay," he reassures her. She readies herself to run. &q

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