My brain sluggishly came to consciousness the following afternoon after what I assumed was an overlong, alcohol-induced night's sleep. This was further implied by the hangover that was throwing around hammers inside my head and the flashes of a stranger in my memory that I knew couldn't have been true. The bits of conversation that I was imagining between he and I were too bizarre to be anything other than drunken hallucinations. I must have had more vodka than I remembered.
Holding my head as if it would tumble off my shoulders if I didn't, I sat up in bed as best I could and just stayed there for a moment, dreading the daylight that was going to slice at my eyes once I opened them. Preparing for the worst, I slowly parted my lids and peered out from the narrow space they allowed. To my great relief and confusion, they were not accosted by the sun's rude rays. In fact, it was down right dark. Curious, I looked to my left to find out what was blocking my window, only to find that...there was no window. A grey, decaying wall was all I saw. I looked down to throw off my blanket so I could get up and (in a way I had not yet determined) figure out what was going on, only to see a red, satin sheet in place of my usual, blue comforter. This was not my room.
"You didn't drink those beers I bought you, you know," a slimy voice slithered from the doorway.
My head spun, threatening to crack my neck, as I followed those words to their source. That man! The one from the bar—er, the dream. But how?
"I know I said you could leave, but it was still rude of you not to accept my offering," he said. "But I suppose it's beer under the bridge now. I'll get what I want anyway. By the way, you can call me Mr. D, if you'd like. I prefer 'Master' but I imagine you won't be too keen on that one just yet."
My tongue fought itself over the question it wanted to ask most. "How did—? When... where am I?!"
"My place," Mr. D answered, vaguely. "You see, after you returned home, you felt uncharacteristically tired and soon feel asleep in your own bed. That's probably the last thing you remember. However, after that, one of the spells that I placed on you when I touched your precious little tummy went into effect. You sleepwalked your way here and curled up in this bed of your own accord. Already feels like home, doesn't it?"
I furrowed my eyebrows and denied the implication pretty convincingly (I think), but inwardly, I quite enjoyed the feel of the new, satin sheets against my bare...wait a minute....
"Hey!" I shouted. "Where are my clothes?!"
"Oh, yes, I forgot to mention that part," Mr. D confessed. "When you came knocking on my door, you strolled in and peeled off your clothes, handing each article to me. You were actually quite lewd about it—something I hadn't expected. But it was thoroughly enjoyable, don't you worry," he finished with a smirk and a wink.
I felt myself flush red in humiliation, but a different feeling was overcoming it.
"Ah, I see you're hungry," Mr. D stated flatly.
It was true. "How could you possibly know that?" I asked.
"Don't you remember what I told you last night, Evan?" he asked, gesturing with his eyes toward a very obvious bulge beneath my sheet. "Those are pretty easy to see through satin. And if I were you, I'd get used to having them, because it's going to be very difficult for you to be turned off while I'm around. That's not arrogance; it's just a fact."
I wanted nothing more than to claw that smug grin right off his perfect face, but everything he was saying was true. I was horny, and MAN was I hungry! The good news was that my headache was dissipating to accommodate them. Still, there was no reason to celebrate. What was I going to do?
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
