Flash Fiction Phrase – Get Up

This week’s flash fiction came about because I woke up and wanted to roll back over and go to sleep. Thankfully, there was no one there to yell Get Up. The joys of sleeping in when you are plan out lazy.

Hope you all had a great week and going into a new one with a great outlook.

Remember Let Your Imagination Soar when you read.

Julia

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Unedited Scene

Adult Content Only

References to Bondageg

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Kimberly rolled over, tucking her head under the pillow. She counted to ten then bit her jaw to keep her mouth shut when her mom came barging into her room shouting for her to get up. There was no reason for her mom to invaded her space. She was an adult, who lived at home to assist her mother. Finically. She had the right to stay out all night at a college party if she wanted to. She worked five nights a week and went to college six hours a day during the week. She needed the relaxation that the night before had given. Not to mention her thighs were soar as hell from her legs being in the air for half of the night.

“Lazy child, get up.”

Kimberly winched when the door slammed into the wall, leaving what she was sure another dent.

“I will not have you staying out all night and sleeping all day. Get up.”

“Hey.” She shouted when her mom hit her back with something.

“Don’t hey me, missy. You are my daughter. You will not embarrass me by running around town all night long, doing God knows what.”

Kimberly sucked her lower lip between her teeth and counted to fifty. Ten wouldn’t work. Her mother wasn’t going to goad her into a fight. Not then. She’d had a perfect night and was going to see Tiny again tonight. He had his own private dungeon for them to play in. From the way he talked about it, it was ten times better than the clubs. Not to mention he said he had the perfect cross to tie her to.

“Do you think I don’t know where you were all night?”

Kimberly bet her mother did. She’d seen Miss Bucket outside the alley, feeding the homeless as she entered the passageway to the Baker Bondage. Miss Bucket loved to gossip. And Kimberly had been the star in at least half of her tales. Not like Kimberly hid who she was. She’d be damned if she care what anyone in her neighborhood cared.

“My daughter will not be . . .”

Her phone rang, silencing her mother. Kimberly picked it up and saw the photos she’d taken of Tiny last night after he entered his digits.

“Who is calling you so early?”

She ignored her mother and answered the phone.