Science Fiction Short Story Submissions Novels & Stories

I stared at him, my mind a complete blank. “I find you intriguing,” he continued, his voice a low, hypnotic rumble. “And I am a man who acquires things that intrigue me. I’m prepared to make a considerable donation to your little journal. Enough to fund it for the next decade. In exchange, I don’t want an interview. I want you.” My heart stopped. “You… want me?” “I want your submission,” he clarified, his tone leaving no room for misunderstanding. “I want to explore that… responsiveness. I will teach you about your own body, about pleasure, about pain. It will be a dominant/submissive relationship. Governed by rules. By a contract.”

Madeline’s POV I’m almost losing it. Tears prick the corners of my eyes, hot and insistent, as I feel a strange force wrap around me. It pulls me from the cold, ceramic emptiness of the bathtub after hours of just lying there, wasting away. It’s a violent, gentle tug back into my body, a feeling like the life that had drained out of me is being forced back in, molecule by molecule.

She could barely believe what he was saying. “That’s… that’s insane,” she breathed. “You want me to be your personal whore for research?” “I want authenticity,” he corrected, stepping closer. “Your writing is good, but it can be legendary. I’m offering you the chance to live every fantasy you put on paper. Sign, and your financial ruin disappears tonight. Refuse, and you can go back to wherever you came from." Ara’s hands trembled as she took the contract. She read it carefully. The terms were exactly as he described, precise, and unbiased. One month. Total submission to his control during that period. All debts cleared. The allowance was more than good.

He kisses my forehead and then my cheek. He said he could make me a shifter if I'm willing to spend the rest of my life with him. Where's the negative in that? Is there something I'm not seeing? I could change into a snow leopard and spend my life with the only man who has ever shown me so much kindness. He waits for my answer, but once again, the nurse interrupts us. This time, she brought the doctor with her. What should I say? Am I ready to trust another man?

Sloane wakes up to her phone blowing up. The blurry tunnel photo has gone semi-viral on soccer gossip accounts. Sloane jolted awake in her bed as her phone vibrated nonstop on the nightstand. The screen lit up with dozens of notifications. She grabbed it with a sinking feeling in her gut and clicked on the first link. The blurry tunnel photo stared back at her from multiple soccer gossip accounts. Two figures locked in passion, one clearly on her knees. Comments flooded in fast. Some mocked the rivalry, others speculated wildly about secret affairs between coaches. Her stomach twisted with fear. This single image could destroy years of hard work. Sloane sat up quickly, heart racing, and thre