Publicaciones en Contemporáneo

I almost spit a mouthful of oatmeal back into the bowl when the coldest, iciest blue eyes I’ve ever seen fill my line of vision, their piercing quality effortlessly standing out against the backdrop of the enormous room, making even the most impressive aspects of the custom dining area pale in comparison. One minute I’m by myself and the next I’m not, the sight of his towering, imposing form too abrupt for words, his presence beyond startling, literally making my heart stop. Frost walks into the dining room, the casual… Leer más

I step out of the bathroom, bypassing the blow drier in favor of air drying my hair even though I’d normally never do that in winter. Then again, I’d normally never wake up in an unfamiliar house feeling like road kill, either. I make my way back into the room with far more ease than I did exiting it, only to find my bed perfectly made up, graced with fresh silk sheets and a gazillion throw pillows, looking like something out of a magazine. The blinds are drawn, the entire… Leer más

As usual, all good things—no matter how small—come to an end. Often much too soon. And my bath is no exception. Well…I suppose it wasn’t so much a bath as it was a sit-and-soak. Not that I could help that. Even the smallest attempts to lather my body resulted in nothing but a butt-load of discomfort and pain that I just gave up trying altogether, even though I would love nothing more than to vigorously scrub every last trace of yesterday away. Water that felt incredible seemingly just a moment… Leer más

Any thoughts of introducing myself for the sake of politeness catapult themselves right out the window. Fuck. Me. I didn’t recognize her at first—and I probably wouldn’t have without the black and white uniform—but now I think I recall seeing her in the distance back in the dining room briefly, not that I could focus on anything other than my inflamed bladder for more than a nanosecond the entire time. But it doesn’t erase the fact that she was there; there to witness some part of the most humiliating experience… Leer más

My eyelids feel heavy. Insanely heavy. Swollen. Burdened. Like they each have anvils sitting on them. It’s the most unusual sensation. And, for some reason, everything feels slow. Lethargic. Disoriented. I vaguely register the sound of soft knocking in the distance. Gentle taps come in five at a time, followed by a long pause. I think I’m imagining it, almost positive I am, until I hear the sequence of knocks again; still gentle and soft, but my awareness of them increasing each time they come through. A sea of nothing… Leer más

God, this blows… That’s all I can think. How much this all just fucking blows. Seconds march on in silence, but I don’t count them. I have no need to. Monitoring time won’t change the outcome of my fate. It won’t save me from the inevitable. In fact, the only difference it’ll make at this stage is wear me out even faster. Still, the time passes, quietly and unmeasured. That’s all I know for sure, and only because I’m still conscious. Barely. Join us or log in to read more.

My eyelids peel back as far as humanly possible—and then some. My lungs turn flaccid, my breath halting on autopilot, my pupils dilating as the daunting thought plants itself firmly in my head. I know I don’t always succeed in not taking the name of the Lord in vain—the way my late mother taught me to—but Jesus. Motherfucking. Christ. Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God… No, no, no, no, no, no, no! This cannot be happening! Continuous wheezing suddenly fills the room, the simultaneously high-pitched and strangled sound… Leer más

Twenty-three. Twenty-four. Twenty-five… For the first time since this damned “ritual” in the name of punishment began, I’ve been forced into starting a ritual of my own; counting up to the next rotation of the make-shift clock. Seventy-one minutes times sixty seconds. Four thousand, two hundred and sixty. That’s the number that separates me from my next play-date with Satan’s toy—or my potential victory over it if I play my cards right, paltry as they may be. Forty-two. Forty-three. Forty-four. Forty-five. Forty-six. Forty-seven… I’m surprised I can even manage basic… Leer más

Absolute certainty isn’t guaranteed. Not for anyone. Never has been and most likely never will be. That’s a universal truth. I know that. But for me, in particular, even temporary assurance has been nothing short of a luxury, no matter how much I craved it. There are far too many variables, too many curveballs that life loves to throw in spite of the most careful planning to think anything is truly set in stone for any length of time. In fact, the only thing you know for sure is that… Leer más

There are times in life when absolutely nothing makes sense. When nothing goes right. When everything seems out of place. Wrong-side up. Inside-out. Surreal. Impossible. And, yet, you know it’s real. That it’s happening…to you. Even though you can’t truly comprehend how it could be. For me—Ramona Georgette Gallo, a simple, twenty-four-year-old college student—this is one of those times. Join us or log in to read more.