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Shakespeare © Copyright 1997-2014 - Crimson Dragon All Rights Reserved Main Page · Short Stories · Snapshots · Novels · Contact |
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Snapshot #9
Shakespeare
(Ff, bd, ds, exh)
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(c) 1997 - All Rights Reserved
Crimson Dragon (dcrimson@yahoo.com)
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She'd been waiting for weeks for this excursion. Sharon hadn't played with her
since they were children. There never seemed to be time for the simple things
in life anymore. Friends. Relaxation. Clean air and sunshine. Memories.
The summer had been spent in the office; releases and other such trivialities.
Breaking away from the office, hadn't been easy. But she knew that the stress
was going to kill her if she didn't get away from it. She was going to fall
into some insanity if she didn't get out of the evil that was the workplace.
She packed a lunch into the old-fashioned picnic basket. Enough for her and
Sharon. Sharon had come in the old pickup, outside the old brownstone,
gaily honking the horn.
She had smiled and raced down to the truck, hugging Sharon as though it had
been only yesterday that they were children and best friends. She carelessly
tossed the basket onto the front seat and climbed in, revelling in the
sunshine and the cloudless sky.
After an uneventful, and quiet drive they arrived at the old abandoned farm
from her childhood. The old barn was even still standing, though perhaps
leaning a little further to the north.
The lone apple tree still stood in the middle of the field as it always had.
Though in the days of memory, the field had been a little less wild, the tree
a little smaller. Sharon raced across the field towards the tree, basket and
blanket in hand. She followed, a little more slowly, enjoying the warm wind
and the smell of the farm. Memories exploded in her mind. The freedoms of a
childhood lost.
Sharon had already positioned the blanket and was relaxing from her run in
the shade of the tree, breasts heaving as she strained for breath.
As she caught up, she cocked her head to the side and smiled at her
long-time friend. She knelt beside her and whispered in her ear.
"Remember?" she whispered.
"How could I forget?" Sharon whispered back.
She closed her eyes and rose to her feet, kicking off her shoes as she did.
Slowly she stripped off her clothing, even removing the delicate jewelery
as she went. As she finished, she slowly revolved her nude body as she had
done for Sharon so many times so many long years ago. As she pointed
to the picnic basket, Sharon opened it and smiled knowingly.
The ropes from the basket were soft but strong. And Sharon had had much
practice with her. Soon she was bound securely to the lone apple tree.
Hands crossed behind it, ankles tucked together and tied back to the old tree.
More cords encircling her body, constricting it. She felt the rough bark
against her bare back and legs, the grass between her naked toes. The warm
wind stroked her body, carrying the scents of the wild field.
Sharon gently kissed her friend's mouth and gently ran her hands down her
friend's bound form. The nude girl sighed and enjoyed all the sensations
that her exposed body sent from the light touches.
Smiling, Sharon returned to the blanket. The bare bound girl let her mind
wander as free as her body was restrained. It was such a contrast, such
a strange and wonderful feeling; being so free and yet so unfree. She could
never have explained it, not even to Sharon. She idly wondered if the
apple tree ever could know the life that it was imparting to the maiden
so securely bound upon it.
She closed her eyes as she heard the soft cadence of Sharon's voice reading
Shakespeare aloud; as though it was a voice from the past. She could feel
the stresses of life melting away from her naked bound body and into the
tree as tears ran down her face; she incapable of brushing them away.
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