Archive for the ‘Roulette’s Fiction’ Category



Man, look at me re-post.

This was also from that old blog somewhere on the Interwebs. 😉 A piece of spontaneous fiction of which I’m still pretty fond. Little vignette, due to listening to ‘The Twilight Zone’ by Golden Earring far too much on repeat one evening. I’ve decided to share it with you here today.

Have fun.

Found inside the wall of a recently demolished hostel, eastern Kosovo, 1999. The handwriting analysis returns no match on any INTERPOL database network. The paper is worn, the ink fading before disappearing completely in the light of the sun.

Spies should never fall in love.


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Vigilance [working title] – Chapter One


[working title]

(c) 2009 M Roulette Chatelaine
(Steal my shit, and I’ll be hunting YOU down.)


. use me

I dig my heel deeper into the soft pouch of flesh between his legs, protected only by a thin layer of fabric, thanks to my generosity of allowing him to leave his pants on. Trust me, I didn’t have to. His eyes are wide, and he’d be begging and pleading with me to spare him the pain and humiliation, were he able to. I’ll have to remember to buy a new pair of hosiery in the hotel lobby, I mentally note before alleviating just enough pressure; it should allow the man to speak. Oh, except for the hose. I yank that quickly out of his mouth, enjoying the nice red lines that have formed at the outer edges of his lips due to him having to accommodate the big ball of lingerie.

“Well?” With my other arm casually against my thigh, pistol in hand, of course, I look right at him. Ready for my answer. Too bad for him, it appears he has nothing. Nothing doesn’t fly with me. Not in my work, and not in my play. I hate that I keep getting the two mixed up.

“She said … ” He begins.

“That’s right, Jimmy. You take a nice deep breath and think carefully about your words.” Somewhere in the back of my brain, I realise Cassandra would kill me, if she knew I was here. Not that I cared, or that it would stop me. Cass and I were friends. This is what friends do – when one of them gets date-raped, at least. “Do you think I have all day?”

“What?” He sputters. “I, I … I don’t even know who you are!”

Well, that’s a no-shit. Nor will he ever. If he wants to live. Against my better judgment, I’m not always a sadistic hell-bitch. I do ensure that the punishment fits the crime. And, well, California, and thereby, Los Angeles, isn’t going to make rape a capital crime anytime soon. Regardless of my own personal, albeit biased, feelings toward the subject matter. (more…)

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Pretend Play

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This is what happens when I can’t write, and I really am needing to.

At first, he couldn’t believe it. After all of the years of carefully constructed identity concealment – the aliases, the false starts; the red herrings. In fact, he wouldn’t. It couldn’t be that now she would drop her guard. Drop everything. That now, after so many years of waiting – searching, and failing, that he could try again. And this time, he wouldn’t fail. But it was impossible. How? She had all but vanished. Disappeared. Gone – without a trace. He knew she had meant to be. Why. And that he was the reason.

Extinguishing his cigarette upon the soft flesh of the woman currently bound and gagged at his feet, he half-wondered why more individuals like himself (multiply murdering psychopaths) hadn’t gotten into this whole Master-slash-Dom business. It was almost too easy. Almost as easy as her becoming a dominatrix. To piece back the remnants of her shattered personality, he figured. Rebuild her confidence, and somehow, regain her esteem. After all, he’d worked rather diligently to destroy it. He had little doubt that someday she’d attempt to reclaim herself. He was almost proud of her. Strange … Of course, had she only complied the first time around, he wouldn’t be hating her now. Had she not refused him, done what he said, and made him part of her life as he had so very much wanted, he wouldn’t be continuing to seek her destruction.

Alas, he had learned in the time in-between that we are indeed each responsible for our own actions, and cannot expect to control or ensure the actions of another. Though, as he looked into the pleading eyes of the young woman in front of him, the rope beginning to tear at the edges of her mouth, staining the soft nylon with the faintest shade of pink, he had come to admit this was somewhat folly. In this context, at least. This stupid creature was willing to do anything and everything that he wanted. Fuck, she even asked to be tied up! It almost took the fun out of the entire experience. He knew she was pretending and secretly loving the pain, but if he only used the fullest extent of his imagination, he could fancy with lesser fervour that she was really in terrible, horrible pain, silently praying for death, and his unwilling, desperate captive. Too bad he’d never been that good at pretending, despite his quite vivid and definitely terrible imagination. (more…)

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How to Subscribe to Content Using an RSS Feed


Mistress Roulette just posted the conclusion to her first erotica piece, “If You Only Knew.” I hope you enjoy it.

I have also updated the Erotica RSS Feed to include this latest submission. However, I realize that a lot of you reading this site don’t really understand what that means. In fact, ad admirer of Mistress Roulette recently asked me during Dom Con to explain exactly what RSS is and how to use it.

In essence, RSS is a technology that allows you to subscribe to web content. This website currently offers three separate RSS feeds:

So you can subscribe to any or all of those RSS Feeds and receive immediate updates whenever there is new content for you. (more…)

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Fiction Updates! If You Only Knew, Part II

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Just a quick note to let everyone know that the second part of If You Only Knew, a small piece of writing based upon my actual experiences has been uploaded to the site.

As always, I welcome feedback. So, feel free to comment as desired.


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