Monthly Archives: October 2008


The door swung open with a fury and her momentum carried her swiftly out of the cage.  It was a dash of luck that her flailing hands struck the hard edge of the floor to which she now clung.  The edges of the last plank dug into her calloused palms but she’d learned to ignore pain in almost every situation.  This was merely an inconvenience at the moment, no need to panic.

She surveyed the distance between her dangling feet and the sandy beach below,  “Perhaps I should have waited after all,” she mumbled through clenched teeth.

Unsure of the day or time, she counted back to her last clear thoughts.  It was like any other assignment she’d been asked to carry out – discover, distract, destroy.  Discovery was easy.  The brown gray stacked stones of the castle rose from the Earth and shone brightly in the sun, there was no attempt to hide or even cower against a hillside.  This stronghold stood proudly and bare-chested, without so much as a moat to protect its walls and gates, just as he did.

She found him sitting in the study, his tanned fingers sliding methodically along the pages of a book.  He knew she was there, so she spoke as if she was expected.

“Do you leave all of your guests standing for hours on end at the door?” she said, folding her arms across her partially bare chest.

His fingers stopped and his head did not move but his eyes cut across the room to survey her.  He stood up and took one slow step toward her, his cloak falling quietly from the chair to the floor.  He held his palms face up and out toward her and started to speak.

“I am terribly sorry; I must have been absorbed in my reading.  Do accept my sincerest apology.”

He spoke in a deep and smooth voice that rushed over her like a raging river; she certainly felt like her head was underwater.  She wanted to respond by capturing his gaze but her eyes were transfixed on his chest that appeared to be chiseled from the finest stone. She willed her hands to stay close to her sides lest they reach out and trace the deep lines set into his skin.

“Your apology is duly accepted,” she stammered a bit but set her jaw tightly as she refocused on the assignment.

Silence strolled into the room and filled up the space between them for what felt like days. It made her twitch, but he appeared to revel in it.   A half smile crept onto his lips.

“So tell me, what brings you to me?  Are you a scholar? a trader?  messenger .. a .. slave?” he spoke again in smooth waves.  The utterance of “slave” snapped her back into focus and she raised cool eyes to meet his.

“None of those,” she said sternly. “I am on a spiritual journey and I’ve found myself a little off course. If you could entertain a visitor for the evening I would be thankful and indebted.”

“A spiritual journey you say? I’m intrigued. I’ve never had a visitor, much less a traveling spirit seeker, but you are welcome to all the comforts I have to offer,”  he said with a smattering of mockery in his voice before once again the smooth river rose from his chest, “Are you weary from your journey, or shall I show you around the place?”

She tipped her head a tiny bit, unfolded her arms and stretched her tawny limbs out before her.  “Thank you for the offer; I would be pleased to accompany you.”

It was at this point her thoughts started to blur into a fog.  Their footsteps fell rhythmically on the stone walkway winding through the garden.  Fountains splashed and fragrance swept over her while she marveled not at the blooms, but at the brown hair that spilled over his shoulders.  He knew the names of every plant and every exotic stone, and he had a story for every one.

There are gaps from there to where they were last, standing out on the southern facing wall looking over the churn of the ocean.  There they stood talking quietly about the sea, how the foam pools against the crags in the rocky shore, how the kelp dances seductively in the tides and sea birds defy the laws of gravity.  She drank his words until she was drunk and light headed, she remembered his hands following the edges of her body and lifting her up to what she then assumed would be his bed chamber.

Her mind left her, her eyes closed and her breathing slowed. She wanted him to take her to the far away places to gather stones and clip flowers.  Then she heard the bright clank. She wanted to recover her senses, but she was too far gone and she drifted into a deep sleep.

She awoke in a panic, not on the wide berth of his bed, but on the cold floor of a cage.

Inspired by Rustica and Arcana Nuevo by Maxwell Graf and Pierre Roelofs

Inspired by Rustica and Arcana Nuevo by Maxwell Graf, Angelica Zuma and Pierre Roelofs



On the wall the clock seemed to crawl. The office was cold and sterile; she had been typing all afternoon. He insisted that she actually type on bond paper. Her toe rests on the bag under her desk absently. Her eyes spark as she smiles wryly and folds the piece of paper in not quite thirds. The time had come. She finds relief in changing from her scratchy wool suit into her outfit for tonight. No one even notices her dash from the bathroom to the door in order to grab a car. One hand was already taking out her tight bun to let naturally wild hair loose while the other worked at the coat which hid her from prying colleague eyes.

The taxi pulls to a stop in front of the neon lit building; the ocean blue glow on the front mesmerizes her. She could feel the tension slide from her body as she hands the driver cash and steps from the vehicle to stand in front of the club. As if her body was responding to unseen cues it took stock of her black leather pants, the sky blue, slick top she wore and the black heels that she would only regret when the adrenaline subsided.

A transformation had already taken place. Slender fingers brush her hip as she walks up the illuminated stairs, breathing out and in with each step that brought her closer. Blue eyes trace spiral sculpture as it spins just inside the entrance and her lips were already molding to the half smirk she would wear the rest of the evening. Her gaze begins to flit through the entry way into the leather and plush performance room to the right, then to the dance floor.

Not yet, she tells herself. Patience. Walking through the club she takes in the pulsing lights, heated bodies, and the smell of want filling the large room. Finally she sits, in the sheer curtained lounge to the left, on a white leather couch and she waits for the evening to bloom.

What occurs are these things that slip into saved sensation.

It was dark, the kind of dark where everyone looks good and skin is tan in the flickering low lights. This darkness she wears like a gift and becomes something all the more entrancing, all the more captivating. There was a woman against the round pillar; her black short hair and her hungry look enticing.

Standing she moves like a cat across the room, red hair kissing bare shoulders. Her club siren watches her and then the matches the beat, beat, beat rhythm of swaying hips and suggestion without touch. Here in the dark with music as her guide she closes her eyes to feel the thumping in her chest, the movement of her secret self.

Her eyes lock on brown ones as her knee slides between legs so the smooth, smooth, smooth insides of their thighs kiss. The body responds and the only thing she notices is the dark haired woman in front of her, against her, moving with her. Somewhere behind them the DJ spins at his high station. Her smoldering partner leans in to seemingly speak over the music but there is silence and only hot breath against an ear. The woman’s face brushes hers, soft, damp skin against skin. Hands reaching into hair, pushing the red mass back so she is pinned with those intense eyes.

There was so much talking without words.

Lost in the rhythm, heels on a floating glass floor, she was bewitched and bewitching. She swallowed down the music and let the desire flow forward.

Inspired by the club PulseXtrem, built by youyou0FR Yao

Inspired by the club PulseXtrem built by youyou0FR Yao