Coming Soon – The Author

Prologue

She squirmed, tried to ignore the pain between her legs. She knew he was watching. Watching while this man, this stranger, paid for the right to hurt her. It wasn’t the first time.

But it was the first time she had the Thought.

When he was finished the stranger left her there. Left her to clean up, to wait for the next time. Maybe it wouldn’t be tonight. Maybe it wouldn’t be for weeks. It was the not knowing that killed. Mama wouldn’t approve. Mama would say this isn’t right behavior for a little girl. This is what grownups do. And Mama would hit her while daddy drank in the barn.

Thomas? Thomas, help me…

This is a sneak peek at a longer work that I’m trying to get edited and posted here, hopefully through this upcoming holiday weekend. I know I’ve been scarce, and probably been hinting around at it for quite sometime, but I feel like my work is pulling me in a different direction.

This work (I’m not sure how to categorize it; it is significantly longer and more detailed and story driven than most of what I’ve posted here) is a return to my roots. To my beginning. It was one of the first structured, plotted stories I wrote, with the date on the working draft 1997. I was 22.

It’s heavily influenced by the old gumshoe detective novels, with a touch of mystery, some romance, and my signature dip into the darker corners of the human psyche, something of a taste of what was to come for me. And I think also there is a sensuality running beneath it all, a hint of sex and lust and other forces that drive people to do the things they do.

It is rough, but I am posting it mostly as it was written back then. I feel it’s time to share it, and time for me to branch out. I would enjoy any feedback you have to offer.

Wishing all of you a safe and happy July fourth weekend.
Felicity

Bar-stool Confessions

He wanted to watch her.

“Watch me what?” A soft smile curved her lips. She enjoyed teasing him, seeing just how far he’d let her go before his face darkened and his lips formed a tight line. She would push just a little further than that, because she liked making it up to him, liked when his gruffness turned back to tenderness; usually after she was bound to the four-poster with his cock softening in her ass.

He didn’t play along this time. “In the shower.”

“Okay.” He had watched her in the shower before. She wasn’t sure why the sudden interest.

His fingers toyed absently with the base of his glass. It was sweating on the scarred and polished walnut.

“Anything specific you’re hoping to see?”

He didn’t hesitate. “I want to watch you pee. See how you enjoy it.”

She wished she’d chosen the high-collar over the scoop. It might have concealed the hot flush. “Daddy-”

“You don’t want to show me? Tell me why not.”

He was a handsome man. An intelligent man. He always wanted to know why. She’d often thought over all else that was what attracted her to him. He was in all things insatiable.

She played with her drinking straw. She had no good reason, other than it was a private thing. “It’s a private thing.”

He smiled then. “There’s to be nothing private between you and me.” He motioned the bartender and touched the rim of his glass.

“No.”

“It makes you uncomfortable. It shouldn’t. Why do you think it does?”

She squirmed. But the arousal awakening in the pit of her stomach was undeniable. “Because it’s new?”

He shook his head and sipped from his glass.

“It’s… dirty.”

He smiled his approval. “Do you think I think it’s dirty?”

She kept her eyes down. The crystal bubbles in her vodka and soda chased and raced one another to the surface.

He reached across the space and tilted her face up. “Well, baby girl?”

“No. You don’t.”

He let his thumb pass over her lips before he took his hand away, and his pupils dilated at the sharp intake of her breath. “No, I don’t.”

“Is it…”

He waited. Then, “Go on. Ask me.”

“Would it excite you? Sexually?”

His face relaxed and his eyes crinkled. “Yes, baby. Anything you find exciting excites me.”

The internal flush spread, encompassing her limbs and cheeks. She felt it manifest as a tingle into her toes and fingertips. He could have her, right here, right now. They both knew it. “It’s not just the peeing that is exciting.”

He propped his chin on his hand, as though settling in. “Tell me.”

“I mean… it feels good, right? It’s nice. A relief, and the warmth.”

“Yes. But there’s more.”

She drank from her glass, and he motioned the bartender again. The heat in her cheeks felt unbearably obvious. She kept her eyes down. “Yeah. It’s about what I see, when I do it.”

He made a humming, growling sound that was one decibel above inaudible in the noisy bar. “Tell me what you see, baby.”

She smiled at her glass, allowing those thoughts in. “I see you.”

“Always just me?”

He was so territorial. “Now, yes. Not always.”

“Hm. So you see your lover.”

“Yes.” She glanced at him. He was unreadable, intent but hooded.

“What am I doing?”

It took her a moment. It required getting lost in the fantasy, required drawing on her arousal in that moment to make voicing it okay. “You’re standing close, naked and wet, and watching.”

He leaned closer, began stroking her forearm with his fingertips. For all his severity, his touch was light, soft. The fine hairs stood up in anticipation of the next one. “Am I touching you?”

She nodded. Her fingers on her right hand played and twisted the tendrils behind her ear.

“Tell me how I’m touching you. Where.” This he whispered directly into her ear.

He leaned his own ear close to her mouth and waited.

“You start by touching my shoulders, playing in the suds.” She could smell his hair, his shaving cream, and let her lips barely brush against the rim of his ear as she spoke. “Your hands run down my sides, avoiding my breasts, and one caresses the low part of my stomach, above my mound, and the other traces the small of my back, just above my ass.”

He murmured an unintelligible sound of approval.

“Your touch is light, almost a tickle.”

“Because that makes you have to go.”

“Yes.”

“Mm. Go on, little girl. Then what?”

“You’re saying things to me, but it’s not the words I hear. It’s your tone. Encouraging and relaxing and assuring.”

He rested his hand on the nape of her neck, his fingers brushing hers. The contact added to her overall feeling of being heated. Or in heat. They were indistinguishable.

“You feel the shiver when I start to let go. It peaks my nipples. Then…” A pause.

“Don’t stop. Tell me. What does Daddy do then?”

Her heart did a somersault and her breath caught. The neurons were rapid-firing like an automatic, and electricity coursed over her skin. She wondered if he felt it. “You put your fingers in it.”

“In the urine?”

She nodded. He growled again. His lips brushed her jaw in front of her ear when he whispered, “I’m so hard right now. Hard for my girl.”

Something exploded in her brain. Something small that crumbled the wall standing between right and wrong, acceptable and not. Adrenal fluid flooded her bloodstream. Her juices flowed.

“Is that all?”

“No. You find my clit, while I’m still peeing, and you start to rub. You rub hard. I stop and start, but it isn’t intentional, just happens.”

“When you’re done, do you come?”

“Yes, Daddy,” she whispered.

“Do I put my fingers inside your hot little cunt?”

“Yes!” It came out as a hiss.

“What if I did that first? When you first started, so you filled my palm? So that rubbing your g-spot made it feel so good to release?”

Her words left her. She was going to come on the bar stool, in front of everyone. Her hand was in his now, and she gripped. Hard.

He pulled her head against his mouth. “Breathe through it, sweetie.”

He shielded her there for a few moments, until her breath leveled and her shoulders relaxed. He pushed the vodka tonic closer and she took a sip. Then another. He did the same. He watched her face intently. She smiled a wistful, almost apologetic smile.

“Stop that.”

“What?” she covered her cheeks with her hands for a moment.

“You were about to apologize.”

She couldn’t argue.

“Never apologize to me. This is what we do.”

“Who we are.”

“Yes.”

She smiled a real smile.

“Is that all you see when you’re there, in the shower?”

She met his gaze with a boldness so rare it caught him off guard. “Nope.”

“You’re going to make me come right here,” he teased lightly. But there was an unplumbed depth beneath his words.

“I see a lot. Imagine a lot. And have a feeling I’ll imagine much more now.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because it’s okay.”

He smiled and leaned in and kissed her. “It is. It’s more than okay.”