Flash Fiction Friday 2024 – Week 17
Flash Fiction Friday continues in 2024. New pieces appear every Friday on my Patreon throughout the year. The minimum pledge to read them before anyone else is $3 per month. and the number of pieces available is tied to the monthly pledge total so the more you support my efforts, the more you’ll get to read. Find out what they’re all about and check out some excerpts from this week’s update in this post.
Graduation Day
Devon Simmons was a joyous man. After a year of intensive training, Graduation Day at the Goddess Academy had finally arrived. He stood outside the main auditorium where the ceremony was about to take pace. His head hung low yet he was incredibly proud of everything he had accomplished. All his blood, sweat, and tears had finally paid off.
When he first heard of the Goddess Academy, he was skeptical, and for a good reason. A place where submissive men from all over the world could learn how to become perfect obedient servants to the women in their lives? It sounded too good to be true. In those early days, Devon believed it was nothing more than an elaborate scam, but he was wrong. The Academy was legit, and the teaching methods they employed left no margin for doubt. All men who enrolled there would have their behavior and beliefs changed forever. It was only a matter of time.
Devon took a deep breath and smiled when he heard the gong calling him inside. The red doors before him opened far and wide and he marched forward to meet his destiny.
(…)
Melody of the Goddess
Ingrid stood atop the cliff overlooking the vast, roaring ocean below. The wind whipped through her long, braided hair as she held a strange device in her hands. She had found it in her grandmother’s attic as she was cleaning up the place after her untimely demise, and immediately felt compelled to take it outside.
The device had an ovoid shape like an American football but slightly smaller. It was made of sleek, silver metal with intricate runic designs etched into its surface. Tiny buttons lined the outer rim, each one glowing softly with a mesmerizing blue light. In the center of the device was a large crystal that shimmered in various colors as if lit from within by a mysterious energy.
As Ingrid examined the device, she noticed another series of strange symbols and markings engraved around the crystal, forming a pattern that seemed to pulse and shift before her eyes. She hesitantly pressed one of the buttons, and suddenly the device hummed to life, emitting a low, otherworldly sound that reverberated through the air.
(…)
The Price of Servitude
The underground dungeon was bathed in a soft, red glow, casting long shadows that danced and flickered on the cold stone walls. The air was thick with the scent of latex and leather, a heady aroma that seemed to seep into every pore and fill the senses with a sense of illicit excitement.
In the center of the room stood Beatrix, Domme, Mistress, Goddess, her lithe form encased in a shimmering black latex catsuit that hugged every curve and stressed her ample assets. Her breasts were large and firm, spilling over the top of her suit in a way that was both alluring and intimidating. Her long black hair fell in waves over her shoulders, framing her harsh, angular features and adding an air of mystery to her already imposing presence.
At her feet lay two brothers, Nick and Silas, completely enslaved by her will. They were naked except for their red leather collars, which were attached to thick chains that led back to Beatrix’s hand, a constant reminder of their submission. Silas knelt with his head bowed, his muscular arms flexed as he bore the weight of the heavy chains. Nick lay prostrate on the ground, his back arched in a display of vulnerability and obedience.
(…)
What You Really Are
Rick dropped the glass of wine on the floor, shattering it into a million of pieces. He didn’t need to be a genius to know what was happening to him. He’d been drugged and the culprit was staring him right in the eye.
Theresa sat on the leather sofa, her long legs crossed. A friend of his ex-girlfriend, Denise, she had made it clear many times before she wasn’t happy with how their relationship had ended, but he never suspected she would resort to such a cheap trick to prove her point.
“What… was in this?” he muttered, the words dragging on his lips as the world around him began to spin.
“Just a little something for you to relax,” she smiled. “Don’t struggle. The more you do so, the harder it will be for you.”
(…)
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