Daily Prompt: floor

From Protector of the Grey House:

Charlie, afraid of what the vampire would do to her, finally tripped Natalia and held her to the ground. Whatever had happened to her it was clear she was in a heightened state of out of her mind. He held on to her, and crushed her to the floor as she screamed her frustration. Why the vampires weren’t getting one or both out of the room was beyond his comprehension. He thought of taking Natalia out of the room himself, but knew he couldn’t handle her on his own.

Joseph tried to understand what was going on with Natalia. She enjoyed being with Vincent and would often indulge him in his baser tastes. To try and take him on when he was in this state was beyond reasoning. All present knew she didn’t want to be changed; yet she was willing to risk her life to please him. Joseph thought back on the evening, to the point when she had taken Vincent’s blood.

Daily Prompt: attractive

From Protector of the Grey House:

It was three a.m. before the text came. Natalia nearly jumped out of her skin. Orlando, who was sitting to her right, opened the door and stepped out. He held the door open for Natalia then helped her on with the scabbard as the others left the car. Once the sword was strapped on, she stood a little taller. Orlando took a step back; a little disturbed by the way she looked. He still wasn’t used to seeing that look on a human. It was an animal look: the look a cat gets right before it pounces on the unsuspecting mouse; meaning to toy with it until the poor thing is dead of fright.

It was also the look that made her so damned attractive.

Orlando shut his eyes, took a deep breath and closed the car door. All were ready. Orlando led the way with Rebecca and Doug behind him walking side by side. Natalia came next, with Charlie bringing up the rear. Orlando made an impressive figure and easily intimidated the doorman, who simply got out of the way of the five approaching creatures. The group was through the door and in the house before any of Edwin’s people noticed.

Stitch

As I don’t have an April Fool’s story, I’m sharing a story that’s more fitting for Halloween. I may have shared it before, but I really like it and I hope you do to.

Without further ado, here is: Stitch

Stitch.

Stitch.

Stitch.

The old woman sits in her musty smelling sewing room, putting together her son’s costume for the ball. He’ll look quite dapper, she thinks as she smiles. The needle sticks a bit and she tugs gently to pull the thread through the delicate material.

Stitch.

Stitch.

Stitch.

The second floor room is filled with sunlight. No one can look in, therefore the drapes are open wide and the sun streams in uninterrupted. There are dust motes dancing about, as her son will undoubtedly dance tonight at the ball. She smiles as she thinks of him in the tuxedo, dancing with his favorite girl, as the music urges them to continue.

Stitch.

Stitch.

Stitch.

She’s almost done now. She’s been working on this for a while, almost a week. It’s nearly perfect. The final touches will have to wait until he tries it on.

“Mom? I’m home!” Thomas calls from downstairs.

Agnes doesn’t respond. Her voice no longer carries, but he knows this and will come up. The front door slams and a moment later, she hears hurried footsteps on the stairs. He comes into the sewing room, her favorite room in the house and plants a gentle kiss on her cheek.

“I can smell dinner from a mile away, mother. Thank you.”

She lifts her head and smiles to him. “Anything for you, dear.”

She indicates the costume on the large round wooden table. The table has been in the family for generations. Many costumes have been made on it. He looks down and his eyes open wide.

“Mother! It’s…”

“Not finished yet. You’ll need to try it on.”

“How did you get the height? Randy’s shorter than I am.”

The old woman carefully gets up from the table, and gently stretches the costume out to show him everything. She uses cautious movements to make sure not to rip the fragile material. She stops at the legs and traces delicate stitching on the skin. It’s obvious it’s from two different hides.

“I had to add some extra.” She looked up at him. “We need to make sure it fits. I haven’t finished stitching it all closed.”

He reached out and touched where the two skins met. It was a close match, but one was hairier than the other. “Who did you use?”

“Vagrant, but don’t worry, I washed everything before the kill. You won’t catch anything from wearing it.”

“Who helped you?” Thomas knew she was too weak to skin someone herself.

“Your brother came up from the city. He’s having trouble finding a job and needs the meat. He has five mouths to feed.”

Thomas nodded as he looked down at the face of the costume. Randy was shorter than Thomas, but height didn’t matter. Thomas was smarter, more determined, and his mother made great costumes. Thomas knew he would win Jasmine’s affection tonight, he was sure of it. The height wasn’t that much of an issue. He could say he was wearing tall shoes. Once he won Jasmine’s affections, they could laugh about the costume. It would be their first date, their first laugh. He smiled at his mom.

“I can’t thank you enough, mom.”

“Oh, nonsense. Try it on and see how it fits.”

Grinning like a schoolboy, he stripped and sat in the chair. Agnes took a small bottle of spirit gum from her sewing basket and moved it closer to his chair. She helped him put on the skin, making sure each toe went into the right place. The heel was left open, to help the skin fit. Agnes ran her finger down the stitching on the bottom of the foot.

“I had to put the stitch here.”

He smiled in pleasure. “I like when you do. I can feel it when I walk. I like the reminder.”

“Stand up and I can help you with the rest of it.”

He did as told, and she placed her hands on either side of his left leg, carefully pulling the skin up his calf. Agnes placed little dabs of spirit gum on the costume to help it stay in place. She made sure the skin fit correctly, then moved to the right leg. He carefully took the edges of the costume between his legs and adjusted his genitals. A little spirit gum made sure the costume didn’t flap open. He wished wistfully that the costume included all of Randy’s parts. Some skin was too delicate to include.

Piece by piece, Agnes moved up his body, moving her hands lovingly over the costume, making sure it didn’t snag and didn’t bunch, adding spirit gum as needed. It fit him well. She measured him every six months, even if she wasn’t making him a costume.

Once the costume was high enough on his torso, she helped him slip into one arm, then the other. As she was adjusting the left hand, he looked at the right. Randy had a birthmark on his right hand. It was large and obvious. The red wine stain was still there, and it looked like Agnes did a fine job in hiding the extra skin on the hands.

She saw him looking and smiled. “His back has the mark too. I took some of his skin from the back and added it to the hand to help it look right.”

“This is beautiful, mom.”

She smiled and continued to adjust the skin. Once everything except the head was on, she had him turn around. She used a quick stitch to finish sewing up the back of the costume. Done, she turned him around and smiled. The head went on last.

“Will I be able to breathe in this mother?”

“There’s a mouth guard, like usual. Just fit it over your teeth.” She sighed. “You always act like it’s your first time.” She muttered under her breath. She looked in his eyes. “I thinned out his lips. They should fit over yours.”

She helped him place the head over his. With the guard in place, the lips seemed to slip over his. He had to sit down to have her help make sure the head was secure over his. Once it was, she nodded.

“All right now. Just let me close the back of the head up. Let me know if it’s too snug.”

“Yes, mom.” He adjusted the hands as if they were gloves. Randy’s birthmark stood out, but it had to look right. Thomas pictured it in his mind and made sure the skin was right before the spirit gum dried. Thomas wanted to make sure Jasmine saw the birthmark. It would prove how far he was willing to go to impress her. She liked Randy, but she would see that Thomas was the better choice after tonight.

“All set.”

He stood and went to the mirror. Randy was three inches shorter than he, but Thomas still looked like he was staring at Randy through a window rather than staring at himself in a mirror.  The costume was stupendous. He turned to his mother. “Mom, this…this is…I don’t know what to say. You’ve outdone yourself.”

She gave a smile that he knew meant something more was coming.

He grinned, happiness making his eyes blaze. “What? What is it? You have something else?”

“Usually, there are parts that don’t make it. This time, because I know how much you like the girl, I tried very hard to keep something intact. I had to cut it off and prepare it separately, but I think I can make this work.”

As he watched she went to the table and opened up her sewing basket. She took a handkerchief and opened it up. Agnes turned to her son and showed him the prize.

He looked down at her hands and his mouth and eyes flew open. “Mother! That is without a doubt the best present so far!” He embraced her, careful not to harm the last piece of the costume. “Thank you!”

“Don’t thank me until it’s on. Still not sure it’ll work.”

Thomas nodded, backed away and waited for Agnes to sew him up.

“I’ll need to sit for this, Thomas. You know I can’t stand for very long.”

“Yes, mother.”

He moved closer to her chair. She placed the gift on the table, threaded a good needle and sat down. Thomas stood still as she fitted the last bit of Randy between his legs. Randy had a birthmark on that part of him as well. Thomas didn’t know if Jasmine had slept with Randy before, but this would help if she had. Agnes fussed with the skin, stitching it into place, being careful not to harm Thomas. He was a good son, though. He knew not to move while his mother was putting the final pieces of a costume together.

As the sun set, and the time of the ball grew closer, Agnes stitched the last of Randy over Thomas.

Stitch.

Stitch.

Stitch.

Daily Prompt: class

From Protector of the Grey House:

“What’s your name boy?” He inquired, like a teacher asking an unruly student on the first day of class.

“damien”

It was a whisper. Vincent barely heard him. He wasn’t choking him, as the boy didn’t need to breathe, but he still needed air to speak. Vincent loosened his fingers and asked again.

The boy took a deep breath and in a terrified voice that was trying desperately not to sound frightened, “DAMIEN LORD OF DARKNESS AND ALL HE SEES?”

Vincent started laughing. He couldn’t help it. The boy was pathetic. Still holding onto “The Lord of Darkness,” Vincent continued to laugh. He heard Kari laughing as well. Morgan finally picked himself off the floor and stood, trying to look dignified. Since his hair was out of place and his shirt was untucked, he failed magnificently. It made Vincent laugh even harder. He heard a few of Morgan’s meals tittering nervously. Vincent felt the heat rise in him again along with a hard heavy need. He had not eaten upon waking, and his body was starting to protest. Still laughing, he looked back into the eyes of Damien, Lord of Darkness. The boy would serve as a lesson to Morgan and his ‘disciples’. Lightning quick, in the middle of a laugh, he pulled Damien’s neck to his mouth and pierced the soft skin with his sharp teeth. He drank deep, meaning to drain the boy. Vincent was so absorbed by the hot liquid running down his throat that he didn’t enjoy the screams of the other young ones.

Daily Prompt: psychology

From Protector of the Grey House:

If for some reason Donavon didn’t believe her, Natalia would step in and tell him who she was. Then she would do everything she could to get Ashley out of the house. Her priorities had shifted. The girl had to be kept safe. Although she didn’t tell Ashley the psychology behind it, Natalia knew what it was. Ashley was roughly the same age as her own child would have been, and Ashley was way too much like her. They were kindred spirits and she wanted to keep her alive. It probably wasn’t smart to use the girl as bait, but Donavon had already started a relationship with her. It might be easier to get free if Donavon thought the girl was his.

Daily Prompt: rebel

From Protector of the Grey House:

Natalia smiled. “For me as well.”

He stared into her eyes. “What else did you learn?”

“I’m bi-sexual. I enjoy sleeping with both men and women.”

His eyes narrowed a touch. “While we are together, I would prefer that I am the only man you sleep with.”

“Prefer? Or demand?” Her eyes mocked him as she ran her hands up his chest.

Vincent invaded her space and pushed her back onto the bed. He growled on her neck. Natalia turned her head and allowed him better access. “If I demand you stay away from all other men, is that really a problem?”

She laughed. It made him pull back to look into her eyes. Once he was staring down at her she grinned. “If I demand you stay away from all other women, will you listen?”

He growled. She could hear his anger. The smile on her face made him bare his teeth. She laughed again. Before he could say anything, she caressed his cheek and spoke.

“I don’t want to place restrictions on you, Vincent. I understand sometimes you need someone else, for my own safety. But don’t order me to do anything. It gives me reason to rebel.”

He growled again but could think of nothing to say.

Covid-19 Vaccination Experience

Covid-19 Vaccine

Hello. This is my experience with the Pfizer covid-19 vaccine. All experiences will be different.

The first vaccine, my right arm was sore where I got my shot. Not enough to take anything for it, but it was a bother.

The second vaccine, was a bit different.

The first day, I woke with a maybe headache and my right arm was sore. What is a maybe headache? A headache that teased me and didn’t fully show itself. Because it felt like it might end up being awful and my arm hurt like a son of a bitch, I took a couple acetaminophen. That killed the maybe headache and stopped the arm. What I didn’t realize is that it also stopped the body aches.

I didn’t realize I had body aches until later in the day when the acetaminophen started to wear off. By 1pm, I hurt and thought, “Fuck it.” And popped more pain relievers. And for me, 2 extra strength usually takes care of my ills. I spent the rest of the day not really worrying about how I felt. Until around 6pm when the acetaminophen wore off again and I felt like hell warmed over.

I haven’t had the flu in a long time. In a long, LONG time. (For that I am grateful, as I have MS issues to deal with on the regular.) But as time went on, I realized I definitely did not feel good, but I’d forgotten when I took the acetaminophen last. Therefore, I took some naproxen and laid down on the couch until I felt better. Then went to bed at 10pm. And slept like a brick.

I slept on and off this morning, (second day of vaccine) until I finally decided to get out of bed near 10am. Yes, I was in bed for nearly 12 hours. I think I needed it. So far, no symptoms. I’m hoping that stays true. I’ll update this (word doc) as the day goes on and will also document day three. I’ve heard that the first three days are when people have side effects. I’ll probably post this on day four.

Here’s to all of you out there trying to stay safe. May you get the vaccine as soon as you can. For those that know me, I can’t wait to see you and hug you when it’s safe. (Yep saying that now on day 2.)

Haven’t been up to long today and I am hit with the question of, “Is my fatigue MS or a covid-19 vaccine symptom.” Ugh. Tried to take a nap, but it didn’t work as my body was tired, but my brain was wide awake. This is how my MS fatigue works, by the way. Therefore, no idea what this is a symptom of.

And now body aches early afternoon. Acetaminophen to the rescue.

By the time I went to bed last night, I didn’t have any body aches. This morning, I’m fine. Slept a decent amount, then went to Menards to pick up some paving stones. I think I’m good now. I’ll amend this is anything else happens.

Something different

Hello. I felt like sharing something else today. Here’s a full chapter of a finished work that still needs edits. I’m not even going to share the title of the book.

Chapter Four

Adrian watched the couple through the mirror behind the bar. The taller liquor bottles and the usual Saturday night crowd mostly obscured them, but Adrian could see them well enough. They were dressed more elaborately then they had been in a long time. Usually when he saw them here, she was in a simple black dress and he was in khaki’s and a black cotton shirt. Adrian had been watching them for about a year now, and he had only seen them not dress conservatively twice.

The first time was last Halloween, about six months ago. She dressed in a very short, very tight, black vinyl skirt and equally tight vinyl top that tied in front with thick red string, and two tiny red rubber horns on her forehead. It left little to the imagination. Her man had been dressed in a deep red suit with a pointed tail and rubber horns on the top of his head. He wore his shirt open to the middle of his chest. He looked exceedingly uncomfortable, trying to button his shirt most of the night. She looked utterly desirable, especially when impeding her boyfriend’s attempt to close his shirt. Almost every male hit on her that night, including Adrian. It was the first night he had been truly interested in her.

He learned their names that night; hers was Christy, his was Michael. Adrian spoke with her for about fifteen minutes while Michael used the bathroom and bought drinks at the main bar. The main bar, the largest in the place, was the only one that accepted tabs. Christy told Adrian that she and Michael had been together for five years but were not married. They came to The HH Club almost every Saturday, and never missed the first Saturday of every month, when the club held the fetish ball. They liked to check things out and have a little fun, but Christy admitted to almost never being able to convince Michael to go downstairs, where the real fun was.

There were two levels to the HH Club. The main room, the street level, was bathed in blue lighting, low music, mostly jazz, and had overstuffed white cotton couches interspersed throughout the rooms. There were three rooms, and each held a bar. The entrance room waiting area was more alcove then room but had a small bar that only sold draft beer. People usually hung out there when waiting for their friends. The second room was the largest. It held a dance floor, tables for sitting and a large, well-stocked bar with two bartenders. The third room was mostly couches, a couple of tables and a smaller bar, which had the more popular drinks and mixers and one bartender. The bartenders and waitresses on the first floor were dressed in white, had little halo head bands, and the specialty drinks were given quaint names like Cloud Nine and the Pearly Gates. It amused Adrian that this level was open to the public and the basement was not.

There was only one entrance to the basement. Near the back of the club was a maze of mirrors with a series of stairs that eventually wound downstairs. At the entrance to the maze was a bouncer, who didn’t let a customer in unless they had a membership card and ID to prove the card was theirs. There were no exceptions. Members could not bring guests, and it was not easy to get a membership. There was a waiting list for membership, about a month long. It gave the owners a chance to get to know the applicant. The applicant could not apply for the waiting list without having been a patron for about two months. It was ultra-exclusive because the owners didn’t want to be shut down because their guests were doing something fun.

The owners learned early on that if they wanted their patrons to have as much fun as possible and not get shut down, membership was the key. Nothing overt was allowed upstairs. Downstairs, almost anything was allowed. Drugs and weapons were prohibited, but sex between consenting adults was not. The members were padded down for their own protection. The members knew this though, and it had been a long time since someone tried to sneak in a weapon or drugs.

The downstairs was one large main room with various smaller rooms off to the sides. There was one bar along the main wall, fully stocked. The specialty drinks had names like Brimstone and Hellfire. The bartenders and waitresses wore reds and blacks, and horns on their foreheads. Adrian had tasted Hellfire once: Bloody Maria made with extra Tabasco sauce. It was rather tame.

The smaller rooms held various pieces of furniture that the adventurous adults could try out. One had a leather sex swing with instructions; one had various padded wooden ramps that could be stacked in various positions, and instructions. Two or three had whips and chains, and instructions, should they be needed. One room, which Adrian greatly enjoyed, was low lit and had another smaller room in the center, which was pitch black. Up to three people could stand in the smaller room, which had holes in the wall for questing hands. He had been in there with one of his conquests; he had enjoyed listening to her moan with unsure pleasure as unknown hands touched her as they had sex.

Adrian sat back in his bar stool and turned his attention back to the couple. Christy shifted on the couch, slipping her hand between Michael’s legs. She leaned toward him and started whispering in his ear. From his vantage point, Adrian could see up her short, short dress. She wasn’t wearing underwear. As he slowly sipped his vodka tonic, he wondered where the hell Michael’s sex drive was. If he were Michael, he’d be downstairs with the tasty strumpet banging away at her in the tactile room, while random men and women touched and caressed them.

He shuddered as the vision passed before his eyes. He sighed heavily, closed his eyes, and downed his drink.

“Buy you another?” The voice was seductive, but also oddly familiar.

Adrian turned to the black-haired beauty taking the seat next to him. She had a twinkle in her over bright blue eyes: probably contacts. “Do I know you?”

She cocked her head as she smiled. “Of course, you do, but the last time you saw me, I looked very different. You didn’t appreciate me too much then.”

Adrian frowned. She could be anyone. Hopefully friendly. He hadn’t found a woman for the evening yet. “Buy me that drink while you remind me.”

“Come now, Theo. You remember me. Last time we were together was in Vietnam, during the war. We had a lot of fun, changed a lot of minds. Spilled a lot of blood.”

“Zia. Friend. It has been a long time. And I do prefer this look.” As he recognized her, he turned in his stool and took the woman in his arms. He held her tight, enjoying the feel of her body against his.

“So, does this mean I have a place to sleep tonight?”

“You always have a place with me.” He let her go and smiled at her. It had been a long time since he last saw Zia, longer still since they had been different genders.

“I like the look. What do they call you?” She spoke low as the bartender came closer. She admired her friend, who was tall and thin. His brown eyes sparkled with humor. He was clean-shaven, which showed off his almost chiseled features and square jaw. He was dressed in a simple deep purple suit, which was nicely tailored, but not professional. Probably off the rack and then taken in to fit better. It suited him well.

“Adrian. Yours?”

“Michelle.” She turned to the bartender. “Two of whatever he was drinking.”

The bartender nodded and walked to the other side of the bar. Michelle reached into her purse, pulled out a twenty and laid it on the bar. She and Adrian sat on their stools as others around them gave them a wide berth. When they were together, people tended to become uncomfortable.

“What brings you here?”

“I’ve missed you. I also had a feeling you were up to something interesting.” She turned her head slightly and started at Christy and Michael, who had gotten up to stop Christy’s questing hand. He was walking toward a recently vacated table. Christy was following closely behind, looked angry, frustrated and dejected. “Who is she?”

“An interest.” He took a slow sip of the newly arrived drink. It was stronger than his first two. Such an intriguing relationship: a beautiful woman with money and a bartender. He noticed the bartender charged her the membership price and raised an eyebrow at Michelle.

“You just never noticed her before because she didn’t want you too.” Adrian laughed once and drank another sip. She indicated the couple at the table with her head. “Does she know you’re interested?”

“I’ve approached her, but not overtly. I’ve spoken with her and her boyfriend at least once each time I’ve seen them. He’s into his work. She’s into art.”

“Is he a jealous man?”

“Not so much jealous as, well, look at them.” His face grew slightly contemptuous. “He doesn’t seem to notice how she looks.”

“They’re like that though, aren’t they? Never see what’s right in front of their face.” She very obviously looked to Michael, catching his eye and smiling politely as Christy stood and headed toward the bathroom. She turned back to Adrian. “What’s his work?”

“He’s a senior vice-president in a fairly large Milwaukee bank.”

Michelle smiled triumphantly. “So’s Michelle. Shall we play?”

“She’s mine.” He downed the rest of his drink as Michelle stood.

“Of course. I wouldn’t dream of touching her, unless she wants me too.” Michelle turned and flounced away toward the bathroom. Adrian turned back to the bartender and ordered two more drinks; paying with the rest of the twenty Michelle left behind.

                                                            *****

Christy stood in front of the full-length bathroom lounge mirror wondering what the hell she was doing dressed in this particular dress. She had seen it online and thought Michael would appreciate it. It was their 5-year anniversary. She thought the short, tight deep green velvet dress would turn him on. She decided not to wear underwear to entice him into going downstairs. They were members because the drinks cost less, and you could only have a tab if you were a member. It was easier to track someone down if the card was left behind. They used their membership privileges to go downstairs once. Michael had been hit on by a guy and freaked. He’d practically run out of the basement.

Christy smoothed out the deep green dress, then brushed her mousy brown straight hair out of her green eyes. She sighed as the thought of another wasted Saturday wafted through her head. Beside her, a taller woman with dark hair in a black silk evening dress turned to regard her.

“That’s a beautiful dress. I love the heels, very sexy.”

Christy glanced down at herself in the mirror, admiring the tall stilettos that laced with delicate string up to her knees. Another item Michael had completely ignored. “Thanks.” She glanced up at the raven-haired beauty. Christy wasn’t short, even without heels, but this woman was still a full head taller. “Ever get the feeling you’re too dressed up for an occasion?”

“Never.” Michelle turned back to the mirror and applied some very red lipstick. “And besides, you’re not too dressed up. Why do you ask? Not meeting anyone?”

Christy blushed slightly and looked down, pretending to pull lint off her dress. “No.” She gave an embarrassed laugh. “I’m here with my boyfriend. It’s our first date anniversary. Five years. I want to go downstairs. He’s not inclined to do so.”

“Hence the risky dress.” Michelle continued to apply the perfect lipstick to her perfect lips. Christy looked up at the gorgeous woman with near envy. “Why don’t you go down yourself?”

“Um…well,” she blushed fiercely, gave the beautiful woman an almost suggestive look. “It’s…more fun with a friend.”

Michelle caught the look and understood the woman’s blush. She realized why Adrian wanted to play with her. He had called her his, but if Christy decided, Adrian couldn’t get mad. She smiled down at the pretty woman. “I haven’t been down yet tonight. I could go with you.”

Christy watched as the tall woman screwed the lipstick back down and capped it. Her nails were as red as the lipstick. Christy tore her eyes away and lifted her head to look into the stranger’s eyes. “Sure.” She shook her head and briefly closed her eyes. “I don’t even know your name.”

“Michelle.” She held out her hand.

“Christy.” She took Michelle’s hand and gave an appreciative nod when Michelle gave her a firm grip.

“I’m with a friend. Let me tell him I’m going downstairs. Shall we meet at the entrance?”

“Sounds good.” Christy was grinning from ear to ear. With another nod she turned and waltzed out of the lounge.

Michelle turned back to the mirror to allow Christy a few minutes with her man. As she carefully wiped away some smudged lipstick with her ring finger, she wondered, not for the first time in her life, at the obliviousness of humans. She and Christy had had the lounge to themselves the whole time they were preening. The lounge was connected to the bathroom hallway but was not part of the bathroom. There were two small couches and various free necessities, such as lotion, pads, tampons and condoms. One wall was pure mirror. It was usually packed and impossible to talk over the chattering of catty women. Christy hadn’t even noticed the lull.

Michelle smiled to herself and took a step back. Christy had come in here first and Michelle stepped in some seconds later, uttering an incantation. As usual, most of the women parted within the first minute; all but Christy left by the end of the second. Michelle wondered about that; her ability to clear the room was rarely discriminatory. She usually just cleared everyone out. She had learned over the years, that those who did not clear out were either too stupid to feel it, or too interested. Michelle had a feeling Christy wasn’t stupid.

Feeling she had given the woman enough time to start an argument with her boyfriend, Michelle turned and left the lounge. Three women entered it as she left. She went to Adrian first, smiling as she downed the drink he had ordered for her, while ordering two vodka cranberries. She wasn’t sure Christy drank, but she liked the drink enough to have both if the woman didn’t.

“What did you just accomplish?”

“I’m going downstairs with Christy. Stay here until we leave. Then try and get him to come downstairs with you.” She winked as she took the vodka cranberries. She left ten on the bar, leaving a hefty tip. Drink prices for members were simple: domestic beers, $1; imported, $2; mixed drinks $2 and straight drinks or shots, $3. Michelle’s bill came to $4. She left a six-dollar tip.

Adrian shook his head at the money and wondered what his friend was into.

Michelle smiled as she approached Christy and Michael.  “Christy! Thought that was you. I bought you a drink.” She handed the nervous woman a glass. “Vodka cranberry. You like?”

Christy reached out and took the glass, nodding as she did so. She downed half the drink quickly, possibly for courage. One glance to Michael revealed all. He had never told Christy about Michelle. He was keeping the fact that they knew each other to himself. She would play along. The handsome man had his legs and arms crossed tightly, and he was scowling.

“I’m Michelle. And you are?”

He gave her a hard look. “Michael.”

Michelle held her hand out. Michael ignored it. Michelle gave him a cold look. “So I suppose it’ll just be Christy and myself going downstairs.”

“She’s not going downstairs. We’re going home.”

Christy ducked her head, looking angry, hurt and disappointed. Michelle placed her glass on the table, bent over the table, placed her hands on the small table, eyes level with Michael’s brown eyes.

“Christy wants to go downstairs. You do not run her life. She will go with me if she pleases.” The two locked eyes. Her look turned decidedly seductive as she lifted one hand off the table and traced one finger along his jaw line. “Do you really have any objection to your woman going down on another woman?”

Christy did not hear Michelle’s words correctly. She seemed lost in her own thoughts. Michael’s scowl broke as Michelle pulled away. He grabbed hastily for his beer and drank it down quickly. Michelle turned to Christy, smiled, and held out her hand. Christy looked at her longtime boyfriend, looked to Michelle, looked back at Michael, who was pointedly ignoring her, downed the rest of her drink and took Michelle’s hand. Christy stood and smiled.

“Let’s go.”

Michael watched the women walk away, scowling. When the women were out of sight in the maze, someone pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. Michael looked to his left and nodded to Adrian, who held out his hand. Michael took it and shook it.

“You alone tonight?”

“No. Christy just went downstairs with a woman.”

Adrian smiled lecherously. “Sounds interesting.”

Michael grunted.

“Not interested in seeing that?”

“It’s not right for her to do this.”

Adrian gave the man a look wondering again if the man had a sex drive. “So go downstairs and stop them.”

Michael finally turned to him and acknowledged him. “That’s the first intelligent thing I’ve heard you say.”

Adrian held his tongue, stood and indicated the maze. Michael stood and gave him a quizzical look.

“Never asked you. What is it you do for a living?”

“Spend my inheritance.”

Michael gave Adrian a hateful envious look. “Lucky bastard.”

Adrian simply smiled.

Daily Prompt: adjust

Will probably write later about my covid vaccine experience. I’m blaming it for my late post. For the moment, here’s the usual.

I said this before, and I’ll probably say it again: there’s a good three chapters that are going to be changed drastically. This scene is part of that.

From Protector of the Grey House:

Surprised the door did not closed on its own, she looked around the entrance of the room and saw the lit keypad. The numbers were lit from underneath. The keypad was on the same side of the wall as the one in the bathroom. She entered the code again and the door slid shut. The room brightened but only a little. It was unnatural light, but she couldn’t see the source. She put out the candle, placed it on the floor and waited as her eyes adjusted. When she could see, she looked around and saw the boxes piled high. The boxes started at the wall next to the door and headed straight for a few steps then ended at a t-intersection. She rubbed her hand against her forehead and glanced down in frustration. Damn him for his paranoia.

The spot on the floor stared back up at her when she opened her eyes. She frowned, knelt and touched the spot. Dried blood. She glanced further up the walkway and realized the irregular blood trail would lead the way. Natalia wondered whose blood it was as she started down the hall. She heard her name being called through the wall as she followed the trail. She ignored it and jogged through the maze sure the voice was Joseph’s. Natalia knew he would be able to follow her through here. Probably created it with Vincent or for Vincent. To not lose her way, Natalia cleared her mind and followed the blood trail.

Daily Prompt: laboriously

From Protector of the Grey House:

Natalia turned her attention once more to Vincent, whose eyes were roaming her body. She saw his eyes move laboriously to Anthony: as if his loyal friend was displeasing to his eyes. “You have something to tell me?”

“Vincent wait.” Her voice was strong, not panicked. She felt all eyes on her; anticipation filled the room.

His eyes darted back to her. “You feel you need to speak first, lover?”

“Not a chance! I demand to speak my mind, before she can turn your head again!” Anthony stormed forward, pushed her aside roughly. Natalia steadied herself and gave him a pitying look.

“Sir. Please.”

Vincent looked back and forth between the two trusted members of his household, trying to determine whom he was going to listen to first. He looked to Natalia last. “Is this pertaining to where you’ve been spending your days, my love?”

“Yes.”