Hallucinating Housewives: A Wicked Dress

As previously mentioned, I’ve created a series that pokes fun at married women fantasizing, specifically about anything dark, morose and preferably creepy as hell.  The first one I posted last month was called The Beast.  This installment is called A Wicked Dress.  Enjoy.

A Wicked Dress

A witch stood erect with unruly red curls, wrapped in gray clothing. Using her one good black eye, she gazed at the innocent females before her.

Bound, gagged and blindfolded, the attractive females were shivering with fear, donned in nothing but their bras and panties.

Ignoring their whimpers, the witch cursed. “They all look the same.”

A second witch emerged. She wore the same attire, except for her inky hair and eerie green eyes. She grew defensive. “It took me weeks to find these.”

“Shut up, you fool.” The head witch’s bedeviling eye scanned the group. “Bring that one here.”

The lowly witch dragged a reluctant female forward.

The unknown woman was shaking uncontrollably while praying silently. She had imitation blond hair, false blue contacts and a voluptuous set of fake “C” cup boobs – just like the others, all except one.

The head witch poked and prodded at the female, scanning her face and body, searching for signs of oriniginality. She said in disgust. “Not one is unique?”

The second witch interrupted. “This one is scarred.”

The one-eyed witch’s lips twisted. “Good.”

The second witch pushed the marred female, causing her to land on her stomach. The female writhed in pain, exposing her defect to everyone.

“Get up,” the witch snarled, pulling her up.

The female stood on trembling knees.

Both witches agreed in unison. “Perfect.”

“Anna!”

Anna shook her head, withdrawing from her daydream, hearing her husband call again. “Hurry up. We’re going to be late.”

Hurriedly, Anna glanced at her two dress choices. Should she wear the black one and be like everybody else, or should she dare to be different?

Summoning some originality, she donned the fuchsia slip dress and matching shoes.

At the mirror, Anna turned to her back and ogled at her angry scar.  With her short ebony hair, everyone would see her imperfection. She shrugged her shoulders and smiled seductively. “Oh well…I am feeling wicked tonight.”

Copyright 2011 by Mina Burrows.

All rights reserved

Mina’s Shorts: The Beast

I sometimes get lost in my imagination when it comes to writing.  As far as an idea goes, I get inspired by something as random as a passerby’s comment or words on the back of a cereal box. From time to time, an idea will throttle my brain until I write something down.  In the spirit of these random thoughts, I thought I’d start doing a segment on my blog called Mina’s Shorts. They’ll be most likely around 300 words and creepy in nature, cuz…that’s just my thing and all. Anyway, here’s one I scribbled recently called The Beast.  Enjoy.

The Beast

By Mina Burrows

“Kill the beast!”

A savage cry bellowed from the amassed crowd, followed by a surge of approving screams.

The group’s leader, a domineering hunk, approached center stage. His voice boomed across the sea of onlookers, “Silence!”

The crowd simmered as the speaker summoned the beast on stage. The beast was massive, excessively pale, and bare-chested with a nipple ring. His head covered with a burlap sack – a seemingly better alternative to his face. His black pants were ordinary except for a slit in the back, allowing for the beast’s winding tail.

Flanked with two beefy guards, the beast jerked ferociously, his tail whipping in defiance.

A busty beauty called out.

“Let me have it,” she cried. “I want that bloody tail.”

The leader's eyes honed in on the woman. She wore a tight crimson ensemble, revealing breasts begging to be touched. Lust assaulted him and he sneered a reply, “That can be arranged.”

The woman winked at him, silently agreeing to his demands, her desire increasing tenfold. The leader waved her on stage and she hurried in response, her matching Gucci shoes clicked in tandem.

The leader grunted at her enthusiasm, while the crowd roared.

The beast stilled, sensing her presence.

“I know who you are,” the beast growled, unable to see her face.

The red seductress laughed, unsheathing her dagger. The knife gleamed against the harsh lighting, making the crowd go wild.

She snatched the tail, her brain engrossed in her task. As she readied her knife, she felt a nudge on her shoulder.

“Honey?”

She ignored it, lost in her salacious mind.

“Sweetheart!” The tap turned into push. “Can you hear me?”

The distant voice finally pulled Delia, the day dreaming housewife, out of her musings.

“What?” She glanced at her husband in surprise.

“You’re day dreaming again,” her hubby replied.

Delia grinned. “Only about you, you beast…I mean, sweetie.”


The End




Until next time…read a little, write a little. Yeah, that’s my thing.

Mina B.

 
 
 
 
Copyright 2010 by Mina Burrows.

All rights reserved.