Monday, August 4, 2014


by James McShane

Before you come to the realisation that you’re making this up as you go, you grab Sally’s arm roughly and drag her with you out of the attic. You have a semblance of a plan in your head, but it requires an element of luck. You hope that this is the one moment in this forsaken day that luck with fall your way.

And as it happens, it does – here comes the sheriff, and he’s brought a small posse with him. You love a good posse. You and Sally meet him at the back of the church.

“I’m going to need you to create a distraction, Sheriff,” you say hastily. “I have reason to believe that Sally here knows a good deal about what’s going down with our guest back at the town.”

“That’s why I came a-runnin’,” the sheriff says. “Our mutual friend is muttering this here lady’s name under his breath. I’m a-thinkin’ they know each other.”

This guy paid attention at sheriff school, you think. Nothing much is going to pass him by. Best make speed.

“I’ll bring her with me,” you say as you catch a couple of spare horses. “Any chance you can gain us some wriggle room?” You cock your head in the direction of Biff’s lynch mob. “They may impede our progress.” The sheriff nods his head eagerly.

“Me and the boys love us a good punch-up,” he says way too enthusiastically. “The letter of the law shall be applied this day.” He turns to his men. “Let’s go, boys. The doc and his ladyfriend need to solve themselves a mystery.”

“That’s not all they need to do,” a voice from the back says. “I think they mean to get down and dirty. I hear that Sally one has a liking for ropes and blindfolds.”

Your female companion gets a touch indignant. “Is that you, Slack Harry?” she cries out. “The last time I saw you, you were paying me very well for my services. You said I was the best Dom you ever had.”

“Yeah,” Harry says, stepping out from behind the sheriff. “And I have the bruises to show for it.”

You turn to Sally. “Now is not the time or place to discuss your peccadilloes. We have to go see that al…fellow back in my room.” You jump on the horse. Ride, Sally. Ride.”

You leave the sheriff, Slack Harry, and the rest of the posse to create a disturbance, enabling you and Sally to make it back to the wounded alien quickly and in one piece.  When you arrive on the scene, the patient is in full human form and appears to be sleeping rather than passed out. He appears healed. But you kind of knew that was going to happen.

“Do you recognise him?” you ask Sally.

She shrugs. “He looks a lot younger than he did when they took him away to hang him, but that’s my daddy.” You nod, because you knew this.  “Let him sleep a bit more,” she continues. “When he wakes, he will tell you everything you need to know.”

You go to a cupboard and take out a bottle of hooch. It’s all you can afford on your doctor’s salary. You’re not a big drinker but you keep it around – for medicinal purposes. You pour a couple of healthy measures for the two of you.

“Tell me about the ropes and blindfolds,” you say hesitantly. You swig back the full contents of your drink and then refill your glass.  Sally gets a twinkle in her eyes. You stare straight back at her. “I’m asking a serious question,” you say.

The man on the table moans in his sleep. You can see that already his form is beginning to change once more. You don’t have much time before the same thing starts to happen to you. Maybe to Sally, too, seeing that she’s progeny. You know what happens to your kind once you get, well, excited.

“A lot of my customers ask to be dominated,” Sally says. “I’m not just a songstress. I possess more than just a beautiful voice. I provide that which modern science and Christian faith does not and cannot provide.”

You knock back your second shot and pour yourself a third. Sally has yet to start her first. You are coming close to the point of no return, but you can’t contain your urges that much longer. Now you know why Sally contacted you. She knows your weakness. She inherited that knowledge from her father. But even so, you’re powerless to prevent what happens next.

“What do you provide then?” you ask in a hushed tone.

“Relief,” she whispers as she moves closer. “Solace. A place in which a person can become truly him- or herself. I provide to both male and female. Sometimes at once,” she adds winking at you. “I brought something with me.” She rummages through her bag and takes out a long black silk eye mask, a three foot length of chain, some rope, and a ball gag. It was a big bag, but you didn’t think it could carry all that. But then you realise, the material it’s made from isn’t from this planet. After your fourth shot (yes, you poured another drink as Sally emptied the contents of her bag), you’ve become slightly inebriated. Your excitement is reaching fever point; the point where your species begins to differ from humankind (aside from the odd flash of tentacle, that is). Sally knows this and you wonder why she’s acting against her nature. Surely she should be on the side of her family.

Her father opens his eyes and peers at his daughter. “Sally?” he mutters. “What is happening to you? Why are you here?”

Sally reaches into bag once more and takes out a two foot stiletto. Without engaging her father in any conversation, she plunges the dagger into his right eye. He stiffens, spasms, then falls still. He is as dead as he should have been when Sally obviously shot him earlier. By this stage you’re hoping for some more luck. You hope that the sheriff has finished off Biff and the gang, and is on his way back here now.

Sally moves swiftly. With a skill set that can only come from a true professional, she has you chained up, blindfolded, and gagged. She teases the point of her stiletto up and down your cheek. You are in danger, you know this, but you cannot help but be aroused.

“He is on his way for you now, Rachorin,” she says, using your given name. “I have you all wrapped up nice and neat. The only thing missing is a bow.”

It is then that your form begins to change.


  1. Fantastic installment, James! :D
    Now, I really can't wait to see where this is going. Damn that Sally!

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