Whoever decorated this office sure loved their weapons, books, and... lingerie? There are glass cases scattered along the office with lights illuminating the display’s insides. Each one showcases a plaque detailing a weapon from a particular era and its coordinating lingerie, more like a BDSM outfit, if you ask me. The display directly in front of me catches my eye.
Leaning against the case, I try to get a closer look. There’s an item that looks like a wider thong but is made of black metal. The legs’ area can only be described as small teeth or fangs coming out of the bottom and a small hole in the back. Reading the plaque has me letting out a loud gasp.Holy shit! That’s a chastity belt?A chill runs down my back at the thought. Thank god I wasn’t born in that era, damn. How the hell did they take a shit, and what about the sanitation issue?
Eww. My whole body cringes at the concept of it altogether.
Searching the room, I can’t find the light switch or windows, so I move closer to the lit fireplace to continue my perusal. The fire, thankfully, gives off enough light to browse around the back wall. I notice other weapons lining the top of the bookcases and more lingerie with a few sex toys lining the walls in decorative glass cases like rare art. Maybe it is? How would I know what’s considered priceless from another era or to the creatures who are supposedly fictional characters?
Inspecting the bookshelves, I notice popular books that look to all be first editions, and I fall into nirvana as I read some of the titles. "The Art of War", "The Iliad",and "Pride and Prejudice"are just a few that I can read off the spine and are in Modern-Day English. Surprisingly, there are many genres along the shelves. They range from “Art History”to the "Harry Potter"series and "The Magic of Discovery,"to the "Hunger Games". I shouldn’t be surprised to find a whole section dedicated to erotica when there are sex toys hanging on the wall, but it’s enough to make me blush. I continue browsing until I find something worth my time.
Jackpot!
Looking for a good reading place, I notice a deep seat sofa, looking more like a bed than anything else, and immediately nix it. It’s facing the fireplace, so it would throw shadows over the book I’m cradling to my chest like a baby. There! Next to the fireplace is a cozy nook area that stays in the shadows and looks inviting. Sitting down on the lounger and getting comfortable, I’m happy to find myself at the right angle from the fireplace. There’s enough light for me to get lost in the “History of the Supernatural”book I picked from the shelf.
The first supernatural creatures or the originals were the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse. Death could take any life he wanted just by a thought, and he alone had control over souls and what was done with them. His desire was to create instead of destroy, and in his misguidance, he made Vampires. In turn, they craved a second life and could only receive that through the life essence of others. The stronger the bloodline, the less blood was needed to sustain themselves.
War was dominant, calculating, quick to anger, and started bloodbaths as entertainment. His rage manifested into Shapeshifters and required them to shift during pulls of the tide. It was said that their rage demanded an outlet; therefore, they had different forms to shift through. All shapeshifters had two forms, but the most powerful and purest bloodlines were said to acquire more.
Famine was a greedy creature and pulled power from the Earth, leaving devastation behind in his wake. Because of his consumption, his soul was ripped in two, and Mages were born. Their power required that they take from the land to survive, but too much would blacken their souls and consume them from the inside out; theirs was a delicate balance to uphold.
Pestilence had the darkest soul of them all. Some say he was a demon since only one would take pride in the fact that he tricked and persuaded people to spread his plagues. His pride became his downfall and had warped into a new species called the Fae. Pestilence’s tendencies to conquer and deceive were still a part of the Fae, but they were bound by honor. No amount of land, power, or knowledge would ever be enough.
Bang!
I jump, nearly dropping the book, and look up as I see the door bounce off the wall and into a couple as they stumble against it. At least I think it’s a couple. I squint to get a clearer look, and yep, there seem to be two bodies and two pairs of lips devouring each other. The only thing that I can make out in the tangle of limbs are the bright red six-inch heels wrapped around a tight waist as moans float through the room.
Frozen in place, I watch as the heels reach the floor and the mass of limbs kick the door closed, shuffle, and trip its way around the room. They bump into display cases and random objects around the space until they start on the path towards the sofa. I have no idea why they took the long route to the couch, maybe to give me a show? Who knows, but don’t judge me for being a voyeur here. I just found out that supernaturals are real, and I might be one, so I’m a little late on the firing of brain cells as I sit here on the lounger in shock.
When they finally make it to the sofa, falling onto it, and start taking off their clothes, two things occur to me when a blouse lands on my legs. For starters, I now realize why the couch has deep cushions, and two, they seem to be planning on going further than just a heavy make out session. Unfortunately, before I can decide on the best way to sneak out of here without getting caught, they unhinge their jaws and open their eyes. The red heeled barbie doll notices me first, and believe me, if looks could kill, well… shit. She might be able to kill me.
Before you judge me with her nickname, she really looks like a barbie doll sitting there in her red lace bra with some black leather pants that make those heels pop. Her long, wavy, ash blond hair cascades down her back, framing a heart-shaped face, and splits around her long ears. I swear she’s an elf, but they look too small compared to the ones I’ve seen today, though still longer than mine. She has long black lashes, gray eyes, a button nose, and a sneer pasted on her plump, shiny lips.
“What the fuck, Ry?! What’s she doing here?” she shrieks, pointing at me and pushing the guy off her. She sits up and looks around for her shirt, which, of course, was thrown and is now laying across my legs. I pick up her red silk blouse and hold it out for her. She snatches it up without looking at me, but you can’t say the same for the man on the sofa. He should be dead too from the daggers she glares at him while she roughly turns out her sleeves.
The man in question is still sitting on the sofa with a predatory look in his eyes, glancing over at me with a smirk that only promises trouble. “Must have been a present from Murmur. The mischief demon owes me one and it seems he knows how to pick them. Of course, I like my presents with less clothing, but she will do,” he purrs seductively and winks at me. He continues to unbutton his shirt further, while the red heeled barbie doll finally gets her shirt back on and buttons it up. She sneers at me once more and glances back at Mr. Trouble as if she doesn’t believe this is happening.You and me both, sister.
I have no idea why I’m getting dirty looks; I’m utterly lost here. I know my face is showing a mixture of confusion and amusement. I’ve been told I have a very expressive face. Hell, that’s why I used to get in trouble as a kid. The saying, “I’m not responsible for what my face does when you talk,” is my damn motto.
Holy shit! Did I just ruin someone’s sexy time? My first day of being in purgatory, and I’m already cock and vag blocking people. Would that be cog blocking? Vick blocking? Or is it a pink taco jizz kill? Hell if I know, but this is awesome! A small smirk graces my lips, which is probably the wrong thing to do if the fire in this lady's eyes is anything to go off of.
“What? You think this is funny?” She turns to glare at me. She does a double-take between Mr. Trouble and me and then gasps. “I don’t think so, Ry. I meant what I said last time. Never again. I’m not falling for this shit,” she bitches. Red heeled barbie shakes her head so hard I’m afraid it might fall off her shoulders. She points her long manicured finger at him and growls, “Fool you once… shame on me. Fool me twice, shame on keys, and um, fool me three times and shame on your family. Call me when you’ve maturinated and take me seriously,” she snaps, totally fucking that quote up.
I try to hold in my laughter, but a small snort escapes me. Maybe my innocent look will save me. The scowl she throws my way says I’m not pulling it off and speaks of reciprocating pain though. But seriously, guys, did she just say that? I promise I didn’t mean to judge her, I don’t know the girl, but even I can tell that no one can take her seriously, especially after what just came out of her mouth. She storms over to the door, giving me another death glare before she reaches it, and proceeds to flip the bird in our direction, the door slamming in her wake right after. The only sounds in the room are the small crackling of the fireplace and my breathing.
Welp, now that I ruined that, maybe I can apologize and make my escape. I stand up from the lounge, grabbing the book I was reading, and look over at the man on the couch. Evidently, the so-called red heeled barbie doll running out didn’t faze the man at all. His shirt is fully unbuttoned and hanging loosely off his shoulders. I unabashedly watch as his muscles move over his bronze skin while he kicks off his shoes and socks before he tosses them in a pile at his feet and turns his gaze my way.
Soulful green eyes capture and ensnare mine, holding me hostage as they take their time drinking me in. Long thick lashes give the term ‘bedroom eyes’ a run for their money. A devious smirk draws my attention to his sinful mouth with a full bottom lip that begs to be nibbled on. His strong angular jaw is covered with a five o’clock shadow that makes me want to lick it, and high cheekbones bring me back to those hypnotic eyes. Wishing not for the first time I had found those lights, I’m left wondering if his hair is long enough to run my fingers through and pull him down to my mouth.
He flicks out his tongue, wetting his bottom lip, and plays with his hoop lip ring that I missed at first glance. Holy shit! That moisture on his lips sends my pussy lips clenching, my mind reeling in directions of what else his lips and tongue can do.
My greedy kitty needs to calm down. Maybe that’s my superpower? The insatiable pussy from hell. I swear she has a mind of her own.
Down, you greedy hussy.
Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not a virgin, but I don’t go whoring around either. I’m not saying that’s wrong; I’m in no way slut-shaming. It’s just not me. I’ve only slept with a handful of guys over the years, but most of them said I was worse than a teenaged boy.
My last ex broke up with me because he didn’t feel comfortable with my need for more than vanilla sex. Thank God for the energizer bunny. Hoppy is my favorite toy, and Wiggly, the hose is a close second. I wonder if there’s a place where I can pick up replacements.Omg, what if my family finds them when they go searching for me.They might look for clues and search my room.
Holy Shit!
