Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Quiet One
   by Nysidra
   Erotic Fantasy (MF, magic, Fdom, Msub)
Summary: A woman finds a mute creature in need of rescue.
   <->
   The fog was so thick I could see the water droplets shift in the breeze.
   Shrill laughter peaked in volume from inside the house.  My baby sister
and her friends played a game only made amusing by the addition of alcohol.
   Ice clinked in my glass as I finished the last of my red snapper.
   I fished out a cube and tossed it into the dark.
   The deck groaned to my right.
   A young man with spiky black hair, brooding dark eyes, and pouty lips
emerged from the fog.  A few inches taller than me, lean.  He didn't have
the typical frat boy gloss of my sister's crowd.  His dark jacket hid the
finer details of his body.  He had a gorgeous face though, chiseled jaw,
sharp cheek bones.  His eyes seemed both hawkish and far away.
   Delicious.  My belly fluttered as I took him in.  "Hello there,
gorgeous."
   His dark eyes locked to mine.
   More drunken laughter from the living room with some low howls of
amusement.
   I reached out and took his left hand, gave it a proper glance.  No ring.
Large, soft hands.  I could eat him up.  "Do you have a girlfriend?"
   He shook his head.
   I set my drink down and stepped close to him.  I leaned in and brushed
my lips to his, those full, soft, warm lips.  He didn't step away from me,
but he wasn't exactly throwing himself on me.  Shy and silent.  This was
going to be a good night.
   Fog danced around us as I pressed my lips to his.  Once, twice.  I
brushed my finger tips along his cheek and jaw line.  No stubble.  I traced
his bottom lip with my tongue.  Maybe I was being too forward, a little too
tipsy, but he didn't protest.  He didn't tense or back away.
   I took a step back, light headed from more than my drink.  His behavior
made me feel twice as dirty, and exponentially horny.  "I like you."
   A woman's voice rang out from the dense fog.  By her inflection, it
sounded as if the family pet had gone astray.  Good luck finding an animal
in this weather.
   I took his hand.  "Come with me?" His fingers wrapped around my hand,
and I led him inside the house.
   ***
   She smelled like citrus flowers, tasted like tart red berries.  Eyes
excited, warm brown and green, lashes long.  Soft touch.
   I climbed the stairs behind her, leaving the night and loud people
behind, sneaking away.
   Needed to get away.  Perfect time to hide.
   Up stairs, back room, left side.  She opened the door.
   Bed, half made, lavish sheets.  Stereo on, muted music.  Lap top closed.
Closet half open.  Curtains shut.  Daybed near the wall, clothes folded on
top.
   She shifted books, magazines, and papers from the couch to the floor.
   On the couch we sat.
   Back on her feet.  Her hair swished back and forth.  She grabbed things:
white shorts, dark red bra, mail torn in half, white and brown bikini.
   Hair moves like her body, lush, soft, and full.  Bracelet knocks against
the dresser.
   She sat.  Flushed in the face, breathing faster, nipples tight and
round.
   I like her.  Smelled nice.  She talked like a soft coat.  Protect.
   Her hazel eyes dart to her bed, back to me.  She touched me along the
neck.  I bend to her.  Delight faded.  Creeping nerves washed in. 
Trepidation.
   "Something's wrong.  Are you supposed to be here?  Are you really so
obedient?"
   I am.  I would be.  I would follow.  I nod.
   Next would come the test: the pain.  Always this way.  They always test
with pain.
   She took my hand, pulled me close.  Legs on either side of her.  She
leaned back and grinned.  "Prove you can be led, quiet one." Head up. 
Dilated eyes on me.  "Do something you want to do to me."
   I wanted to hold her.
   I guided her onto her back.  I wrapped my arms around her body: warm,
comforting, soft.  My head to her breasts.  Deep breath.  Citrus. 
Heartbeat.  Hands on my head.  Nails along the back of my neck.
   "Oh, you gentle creature.  I feel like I'm dreaming, but if the sun
rises on this, I'm not going to regret one second."
   ***
   I got up and locked my bedroom door.  He remained on the couch.  His
eyes watched me like those of a predator, but with the disposition of a
kitten.
   A little tipsy, a lot horny, but I hesitated.  I didn't know if this guy
could speak.  Goodness help me, I didn't care.  He understood me well
enough.
   "Undress." I turned my back to him and tossed off my shirt.  A stranger
in my room, door locked, whose name I didn't know.  My pulse kicked up from
the adrenaline rush.  I stepped out of my skirt and turned to him in my bra
and panties.
   My quiet stranger was naked, standing in the middle of my room, clothes
folded on the couch.
   Something about a gorgeous nude man that takes away all the threat and
fear.
   I walked over to him.  "Take off my bra."
   His right hand eased under my left arm and with a pull and a pinch he
eased the straps off my shoulders.  Just that effortlessly.  He's done this
before.
   Did I find another woman's toy?  What a sinful delight.
   I turned away from him and pulled the sheets back.  I put him on the bed
and straddled him.  He was slightly stiff, but I could work with that.  I
leaned over and rocked against him as I stared into those piercing, dark
eyes.  I kissed him again, delight in the way my breasts pressed to his
lean chest.
   ***
   Heavy.  Soft.  Tasting her tongue.  Feeling her lips.  Drifting away. 
Rocked like ocean waves.  Melodic tone.  Hypnotic moan.  Teased by heat and
moisture.
   Pleasant.  No violence.  No fury.  No threats or yelling.
   I would take either if it pleased her.
   Open, easy, accepting, willing.
   Her control soaked into my skin.  Wet fabric pressed onto me.
   She stopped, slipped the panties off.  Fragrant fabric tossed onto my
face.  I smelled her strong and pungent.  I ached with want.
   Arousing warmth.  Delicious smell.  Blood flowing hot.  I lie with her
scent filling my lungs.  I want to moan, cry out, but I cannot.
   Hot, wet sliding over me.  Please let me in.
   My hands on her breasts.  Hard nipples, large breasts.  I caressed,
played.  I enjoyed, suckled.
   Relax, forget.  I desired to serve.  I rose into her.  She sank onto me.
   Beautiful sounds: her moan, her sigh, the catch of her breath.  I
cherished each note.  Sinking, rising, deeper, higher.
   She removed her panties from my face.  Whispered profanity between
hungry kisses.  Skin slapping skin.  Moist, snug, clenching muscles.
   "Been so long." She trembled.  Her nails dug into my shoulders.  Deep
shudder.  Building, imminent earth quake.  Insistent, rising moans.
   Ridden wantonly until her eruption, but I choked back my release.  She
was quiet but physically loud.  On me.  Against me.  Around me.  She rested
on my chest, petting me.  Sweat dripped from her onto me.
   ***
   I hadn't come like that in ages.  I took my time coming down, caught my
breath.  He was stiff inside me, and yet ever so still.  He lasted through
my orgasm without a sound.  I rose off him, looking for protest or
irritation in his eyes.  I saw neither.
   I turned and straddled his chest, coming face to face with that
beautiful cock.  I licked the swollen tip and tasted myself.  He didn't
even twitch as I sucked him into my mouth.  I swished my tongue back and
forth as I slid him back out.  He pulsed in my mouth, so ready, throbbing
and swelling and begging to shoot off.  I caressed his scrotum as I sucked
him.  I worked my hand back to his perineum.  I pressed down as I sucked
and that was the only trigger he needed.  He spilled into my mouth, poured,
wordless, soundless, but I felt his tensing and writhing body under me.
   He pressed his cheek to my thigh, tried to pull my hips down, but I
pulled away.  He couldn't have that yet.  He was such a good boy to wait.
   I kissed him.  He didn't balk or hesitate to thrust his tongue into my
mouth.  Our tongues wrestled and hands explored.  I wanted him again, and
now.
   ***
   Tasted myself on her lips, in my mouth.  I memorized her tongue, lips,
fingers.  She had been kind, wonderful.  I ached.  Kissing.  Caressing. 
Rolling together.  Wanting each other.
   Spider webs formed.  Doubt glistened off the strands.  How could I clear
them?
   Stop kissing.  I looked into her eyes.
   Enjoy you.  Kind woman.  Beautiful.  Understanding.  Passionate.  Let me
serve you.  Make me yours.
   She smiled as I looked at her.  "You are so handsome.  I want you
again."
   She fucked me.  No sleep for us.  Words from her mouth, none from mine.
My bottom lip sucked between her teeth.  Her voice, melted chocolate.  I
tingled.  We tangled.  Over hours.
   Forgot everything, followed her lead.  Followed her lust.
   She would not let me taste her, and how I wanted, needed to remember her
always.
   She never hurt me, but she tortured me.  The perfect kind of pain.  She
needed.  I filled.  Hours passed.  Night disappeared.  Morning threatened.
   Light seeped into the world.
   I had to go.
   Fog still thick, the rising sun barely lit the world.  I left the room,
out the house.
   Torture, pain.  The bad kind.
   But not from her.  Would it have come later?
   ***
   I expected to find my strange lover downstairs with the others.  He was
not in one of the sleeping bags in the living room or passed out on the
couch.  Maybe he took off before others could notice.
   "Did you help that dude?" My sister asked as she gravitated toward the
coffee pot.
   "Hmm?"
   "Last night, some guy was lost.  We were going to help him, but we kind
of forgot.  Thought he ran into you."
   I hid my grin.  Oh, yeah, I helped him all right.  And score for him
really being a stranger.  I nodded, but she was too deep in her coffee to
catch my scarlet blush.
   They cleaned the house; I cleaned my room.  No one saw him come upstairs
with me, and no one heard him leave.  Our tryst would go undiscovered.
   My one night stand would not have a name.
   I zoned out in the middle of my room thinking of his hands on me, his
kiss, that beautiful cock inside me.  I was going to miss him.  He's the
good moments memories were meant to be built from.
   By late afternoon all the visitors were gone from the house.  My sister
and I went out to start restocking for the next soiree.
   ***
   Waiting.  Waiting.
   Time passed.
   Fog cleared.  I did not return.
   Wait.  Just wait.
   Can't go back.  Maybe should.
   Can't.
   Waiting.  Dimness.  Darkness.  Night.  Stars in the sky.
   She called to me.  I ignored.  Hiding.  Avoiding.
   Waiting.  Wishing.  Time kept passing.
   Slept in the cold.  Huddled in the dark.
   Should go back.
   Wait.
   She called, but the pull was not as strong.  Resist.  Wait.
   Time up.  Wait.
   Light in the sky.  Sky bright.
   Can't go back.  Want to escape.  Need to be safe.
   I wanted different.  I wanted soft, citrus, kind.
   Fog rolled in, I traveled with it.  Recognize the place.
   Her voice.  Listen.
   "...  were so awesome together, and I didn't even know your name."
Heavy, crushing sigh.
   Eased closer.  Me?
   Closer.  Us?
   "Okay, listen, creepy lover.  If you're out there, don't fuck with me."
   No.  Not me.  I emerged from the fog, onto the porch, close to her.
   "Stalking mother fucker." She grabbed me, held me, kissed me.
   Delight.  Elation.  Reward.  Vindication.
   ***
   He smelled like a man after a hard day's labor: rich, musky, and weirdly
delicious.  He seemed no more chatty than two nights ago.  I was happy to
play along, and I made sure to show on my face how happy I was to see him.
   I pointed toward the floor at my feet.  How much was he willing to play?
Before I could explain my request, he sat on the porch.  His head rested
against my leg.  I ran my finger nails through his oily buzz cut, petting
him.
   During our time together he'd wanted to lick my pussy.  I didn't let
him. I don't know why, but I kept denying him.  It's just my way, teasing
and refusing until I had a man begging.  I grinned, thinking about his lips
and tongue on me.
   If he could not speak, how could I make him beg?
   I picked up one of his hands and set it onto my lap.  He had shapely
nails, almost pretty.  I traced my finger over each nail.  I let his head
rest in my lap and we sat in silence for several minutes.
   His body jerked tight with a lightning rod of tension.  I sat up and
looked down to him, but he hadn't moved.  Did I imagine it?
   The front door opened and the sound of jiggling keys drew closer.
   I tapped the bench beside me and he hopped up, smartly putting a few
inches between us.
   I wasn't embarrassed by him, was I?  It's just ...  well ...  I didn't
want to explain why I had a stranger resting at my feet.
   No, even if I wanted to explain, I couldn't.
   "Hey, there you are," my sister offered me a beer.  She waved to him
then looked back to me.  "You two know each other?"
   "I met him at your party, remember?  We were just sitting here watching
the fog roll in.  He's in the neighborhood." I smiled, pleading her to fuck
off, to take the lies, resist asking his name, what we had been talking
about.
   She gave him a worried look.  "Hey, I don't know you, but I hope you
know what you're getting into.  My sister can be a hard ass." Then to me,
"I'll be heading out again soon.  There's a whole case, the ones out of the
box are cold.  Be gentle.  He looks fragile."
   My smile felt strained.  "Thanks.  See you later."
   ***
   Warning to me.  She warned me?
   No reaction.
   Younger, flightier girl left.
   We were talking.  Yes, I knew, but she knew?
   Needed my strength.  More time.  Needed to resist.
   Shared glances.  Her cheek reddened.  Tipped the beer to her lips.
   "Come on."
   I followed her inside, up the stairs, into the room.
   She pointed to the chair.  I sat.  She straddled me, kissed the tip of
my nose, licked my neck.  She unfastened my shorts.  Cool fingers wrapped
around me.  Pulled up, gave me room.  Nibbled my neck, stroking me.
   More.  So much more.  Hurt to stay away.  Wanted more.  Needed more.
   Follow.
   ***
   Karen swallowed as her mentor walked into the house.
   Ester looked at Karen then through the room.  "Where is he?"
   "Um," Karen faltered.  This whole time she'd hoped Ester had him.
   Ester paled and shook her head.  "Damn it!  How long?"
   "A couple days."
   "This is exactly what I warned you about.  Exactly!  To the fucking
word, Karen!  You should have called immediately."
   Karen buried her head in her hands.  "I know, but it was worth it.  I
couldn't afford to see that bastard breathe another day."
   "What the fuck are you doing here?  You need to find him."
   "I told him to find you if he had a problem."
   "Why would he have a problem?" Ester stomped over and lifted Karen's
head.  "Tell me why he'd come looking for me?"
   "I..." Karen stood up and paced the room.
   "Tell me you didn't go too far, please."
   "I didn't.  I mean, he healed.  Where were you anyway?"
   "I've been home.  He never showed.  Did your expulsion fail?"
   Karen shook her head.  "I've been doing a retrieval rite.  I want it
back, I don't want to get rid of it yet."
   "He has to return, Karen."
   "I know!  I was going to.  He'll come back.  I'll do it then."
   "Soon, Karen.  He's getting too old.  I warned you.  You should have
sent him away the moment your working succeeded."
   "I needed to be sure." Karen frowned.  "He did it though.  The power of
these creatures--"
   "Is volatile, and harder to control the older they get.  Pray he's too
weak.  Pray harder he doesn't find his voice.  You cannot keep them here
too long, not that fucking old.  I warned you." Ester went over to her
cabinet and pulled out her revolver.
   "What's that for?"
   "For your stupid mistake."
   "He's like a retarded puppy," Karen said with a grin.  "He's lost.  The
fog out there has been crazy.  At worse he'll end up in a psych ward.  I
even have the local authorities on alert."
   "Worse?  At best, you mean." She set the gun aside and began to set out
oils.  "How badly did you hurt him?"
   Karen shrugged.  "He was getting ...  willful.  I did like you said.  I
gave him an incentive to pay attention."
   "Before or after he got rid of your husband?"
   "That doesn't matter.  Listen, I felt my retrieval working.  He has to
be nearby."
   ***
   I had the oddest sensation while riding him.  I had taken to teasing him
again, milking him with my body.  I could see his desire, felt him begging
me to come, but I only went slower, or I'd stop moving all together.  I
kept him right on the edge.  The longer it went on, the more I felt like a
fluffy little rodent batting at the jaws of a tiger.
   He was only letting me do this because he wasn't hungry.
   The thought made my vaginal walls clench and raised the hair on the back
of my neck.
   I rose off him.  The pain and frustration showed on his face.  I stepped
backward, not sure I wanted to turn my back on him.  My imagined
apprehension grew and became very real.  I sat down on my bed.  He had not
moved from the chair.
   How had he gone from feeling like a shy awkward young man to a dangerous
criminal?  Maybe I was too drunk the first time we were together, but I
didn't feel as confident about teasing him.  When I beckoned, he moved in a
graceful lunge, and sank deep between my open thighs.  It only took a few
seconds before he lost it.
   He really couldn't speak.  I watched those wordless moans, saw his
throat bob as tiny grunts left him.  He snapped his hips and emptied inside
me.  I rolled us onto our side on the bed.
   I took his hand and placed it to my arm.  "Write your name."
   It was the first request he did not rush to fill.  His wide eyes looked
...  stunned?  scared?
   "Um, a nickname?  I won't tell anyone if ...  if you're in trouble."
Really?  What if he was in trouble?  What if he really was dangerous?  "I
won't." I swore the oath out loud, assuring myself more than him.
   He wrote the name on my belly.  Damn, those were some sharp nails.  He
wrote deep, quick.  I couldn't see it yet, but I waited for my stomach,
like a polaroid, to develop.
   He leaned back and placed my hand to his belly.  With a grin, I did the
same, scratching the letters into his skin.  Maybe he only seemed dangerous
because we were still strangers, because he couldn't speak.  All of that
and his strange behavior set off unnecessary alarms.
   That was all.
   ***
   I gave her my name.  My name.  My true name.
   The others were mean with it.  The others hurt me.  They imprisoned me.
   She never hurt me.  She didn't even know me, and yet she could feel me.
She knew my need and answered it.
   The others called.  I felt the pull: stronger, more insistent,
threatening.
   She held me with her kiss, her body, eyes, hair, smell, warmth,
kindness.
   I needed time.  I needed to wait.
   I wouldn't have to listen when they called.  I wouldn't have to leave
her.
   Better.  Stronger.  The longer I waited, the longer I resisted.
   She loved kissing.
   I loved kissing her.
   Comfort.  Content.  Happiness.
   I let her see.  I let her taste.
   Perfection.  I drowned myself in her: flowers and waves, hot and wet,
alive and hungry.  I fucked with her.  I washed with her.  I ate with her.
I lived with her.
   They called.  I ignored.
   I waited for strength.
   ***
   I turned over in bed expecting him to be gone.  He was curled in a ball
under the blankets.  Still with me, still mine to enjoy.  I guided his head
my belly and spread my legs.  He unfurled, kissed my belly, then down to
each of my thighs.  Those soft hands lifted my thighs, parted me.  I moaned
as his tongue, that perfect tongue, wiggled and licked from my clitoris and
back.  If I'd known he was this good, I would have let him at me much
sooner.
   I let him have his fill.  One orgasm after another, he'd ease off and
spin me back up.  I had to grab the other pillow and put it over my face.
The third orgasm wrung me dry, but I didn't stop him.  I ended up going
back to sleep with his kisses on my swollen labia.
   I woke the second time to an empty bed.  My sister knew all about my
propensities.  She never mentioned him.
   In the days that followed I thought I saw him: across the street, down
the way, in the crowd.  I got the weirdest feeling that he was watching me.
I had a stalker.  I don't know why he stalked me.  I would have leashed him
and took him with me everywhere if he let me.  He had no reason to hide.  I
never told him to leave.  I would have taken him into my home like an
adorable stray.
   I would have fed, clothed, and played with that boy for the rest of my
life.
   No matter how great the sex or adorable the man, life goes on.  A few
dozen orgasms wasn't going to slow me down.  My perversions were lucky to
see a few days of bliss.  I had no illusions of living a life with a man at
my feet.
   I walked to the neighborhood bar.  I hadn't been there in a while, and
thinking about my last 'toy' only made me horny.  It was time to do
something about that.
   I sat to the bar, some random bulky, broad shouldered man with a beard
bought me a drink.  I talked about the restaurant closing on university
drive.  He bought a second round as he looked my body over.  He wasn't
going to be the best romp, but he'd be easy.
   "Excuse me." A severe looking woman tapped me on the shoulder.  "Hi. 
Hello.  I spoke with your sister.  She says you knew a friend of mine."
   I could still feel the spot where she touched me.  I didn't like her,
not her face, not her tone, not her voice, and certainly not her lies.  I
don't know what she was lying about, but she was lying.  She radiated fake
bitch and something else that I ...  ugh.  It was the weirdest moment of
'hate at first sight.'
   "So?"
   "He's been missing, and he really needs his medications.  He can't talk.
He's mentally disabled."
   I shrugged.  "I didn't know him like that." Just thinking of him,
talking about him made me blush.  Why couldn't he come tap me on the
shoulder instead?  He may not have been able to talk, but mentally disabled
he was not.
   "But your sister ...  she seemed to imply you knew him."
   "Yeah.  I sure did." I laughed at my own joke, "but not like that."
   Her face paled.  All the fake pleasantly disappeared in favor of fear.
   The bartender set down a fresh pint and I sipped it while staring at
her. The fear wasn't a lie.  What did she think I did with him?  I could
barely wrestle a child, much less harm a grown man.  Those whom I took into
my service whether for an hour of play or a week of exploration, always did
so willingly.
   But according to a man's freely given will, I could move mountains.
   I rested on the bar, waiting for her to confess that she was his
psychiatrist and he'd escaped from a maximum security facility.  He was
being treated for making women orgasm until heart failure.  I nearly
laughed again.
   Her eyes stared at my exposed belly where he'd scratched me.  It had
been a little red lately, but that's what I get for letting people etch
their name onto me.
   "Fucking dumb luck bullshit," she hissed that and more under her breath.
"You have no idea what you've done.  You can't just ...  he isn't ...  you
didn't call him, you meddling piece of shit!" She didn't quite yell, but
the words were enough.  "He belongs to me!"
   "What in the fuck is your problem?" I wasn't amused any more.
   "He is dangerous.  You must have known something was wrong." She
tightened her fists, but it didn't look like aggression to me.  She cursed
a blue streak under her breath, the woman was scared.
   Scared and angry and crazy.
   Like I said, I'm no fighter.  I kissed the burly guy on his cheek and
headed for the door.  I could come back later for my jollies.
   Simple evasion wasn't working with the foul mouthed liar.  "Listen, you
need to help me find him."
   I kept walking.
   "I know you heard me.  He's not normal!  If you're not careful--"
   I spun on my heels.  "You need to leave me the fuck alone.  I don't know
where he is, but I hope that you get whatever hell is coming to you."
Medication my ass.  I knew her type, taking out her frustration with the
male gender on any willing placeholder.
   I couldn't help her even if I wanted to, and I did not want to help her.
I walked fast.  A few blocks and I could run the rest of the way and call
the police.
   She gasped.
   I stopped and looked around.
   He was down the block leaning against a tree.  As sexy as the day I met
him, but something more.  He stood a bit taller, his shoulders more square.
The shy, needy mute from weeks ago had changed.
   "Haven't you heard me calling you?" The woman ran past me toward him. 
"What happened to you?"
   I did think he belonged to someone else when I met him, didn't I? 
Handsome men like him didn't just come into the world perfectly trained and
experienced.  I walked towards them.  She spoke to him, but out of his
reach, like she was trying to calm a rabid dog.
   I stood between them, put my hand on his cheek and pulled him into a
kiss.  Damn.  I missed this man.  He kissed me back and one of his hands
squeezed my ass through my skirt.  He seemed bigger since I last saw him,
bulkier.
   "Please.  I just want to get you back where you belong."
   He laughed.
   Not like a soundless laugh.  It was deep, throaty.  Pure sex kind of
laugh, but ...  sinister.
   She took off down the street at a full run.
   What the fuck was I doing?
   ***
   She was mean.  Cruel.  Undeserving of my service.  Undeserving of my
gifts.
   Anger burned.  I watched her run, but I did not pursue.
   I lay poison in the cruel one's mind and called for justice.  I sent
warning.  There she is, in the open, in the street.  Cruel and undeserving.
   I revoked my gifts.  I revoked my protection.
   I kissed the woman in my arms.  I had her now.  I could protect her,
serve her.
   Would she stay nice?
   Did I chose correctly?
   She held me close as we walked back to her house.
   She showered.  I waited.
   What would I do if she turned mean?  Would I endure?
   No.  Not to worry.  I was not bound this time.
   Free.  My decision.
   Citrus.  Flowers.
   I lay on her bed, eyes closed.  Smells in the air carried by steam.
   The bed shifted.  She smiled down.  Sultry, warm.  Hair damp.  So
beautiful.
   "I missed you." Lovely words.  Waves of calm.
   I should tell her.
   ***
   He looked nervous, and every bit as dangerous.  He wasn't weak or shy
now.  Had that woman drugged him?
   "So, listen, that bitch earlier?  Forget about her.  I'm here, if you
need me, and if you don't, I'm still here.  If we're going to do this, be
together, don't run away again, okay?  I like you, and I'd rather be with
you."
   He nodded.
   He felt so strong, powerful.  Almost like a different person.  Maybe he
left to detox from whatever she'd done to him.  Being near him was
intoxicating.  He came back with me.  He wanted me.  Dangerous or not, I
didn't have him on a leash.  I traced his lips with my finger.
   "I heard you laugh.  Can't wait to hear you moan."
   I didn't care about danger.  He was mine.  I found him.  I cared for
him. He came to me.  I wanted him back.  He trusted me.
   The predator off his sedatives.
   "You're going to be good for me, aren't you?" I whispered against his
neck.
   "Yes."
   <->
Epilogue: Who says demonic creatures can't be sexually submissive?
Written: January 2009
   Contact: nysidra at hot mail dot com
  
QuietOne