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| Blogs > spiderj72 > Going to Hell for sure |
Sunday story time
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Sunday story time Alright folks here we are again with sunday story time. This is the continuing saga of our two main characters. No sexy time but lots of romancy love instead. Sexy time is coming as i am pretty sure someone is getting naked next time. On with the story. It was hard to watch her go out that night. I really just wanted to wrap my arms around her and hold her close. Instead I watched her go and with her gone the house felt a little emptier. It is not like she was forever in my face and space. But she was starting to get into the fabric of the house and into the fabric of my life. It seemed with this simple moment our lives got a little more entwined. Simple things like sharing the kitchen in the morning for breakfast or moving clothing out of the washing machine and into the dryer were just starting to happen. More often than not we would sit on Saturday mornings and laugh at cartoons together, It was something my ex couldn’t stand about me. She hated the side of me. Which is funny because originally she said it was what drew her to me. Funny how things like that come back to me. How those little lies that you tell your partner come back to haunt you when you are gone. I guess that she just wanted like so many other women do and that is to change their guy. I realized that my days of wandering the house naked, of old concert t-shirts and motorcycle dreams were done away when we partnered up. It sucked to me that you had to lose yourself when you became part of a couple. Had I beat the odds by just hanging out with this girl? Girl, shit she was all woman. I began to notice things about her, to burn them into my brain. More often than not, her laugh would come to me during the day in memory and make me smile. I memorized the curve of her cheek and was enamoured by the way that she seemingly kept her mouth open at all times. I learned the angle of her fingers and the delicate interplay of her hair and neck and ears. Fuck I was in trouble. Each day time passed and we grew more comfortable with each other. It was nothing then when she asked me to join her for her steam punk night. She explained that as a way to keep the group healthy and alive that they had a sort of fun membership drive/party. She said I would be her prisoner from the future. What I hadn’t realized as I helped her with her corset is that she had an elaborate backstory to her outfit and subsequent character. She was a sheriff from a world stuck in the wild west sort of time frame. I would be her prisoner. I would be a time jumping felon from the future. Or more accurately our present. This way I didn’t have to go to the trouble of getting a costume ready on short notice. I could hang out and have fun at the party and all I had to do was talk about the wonderful future and how strange they all were. That and wear a set of manacles. She explained that they were rubber and allowed me a lot of room to move around and socialize. I told her I was in and to let me get ready when Friday came around. Once again I helped get her into her corset and this time allowed my fingers to memorize the small of her back. I also helped her pin her star on and get her holsters set up. It was a shoulder holster and it did as much to enhance her breasts as the corset did. Poking out of the holster was a super sized gun butt and a leather hat and spurs were the final touches for her. I had to say that she was impressive and made the law woman character seem a reality. I on the other hand got to wear my jeans and sneakers. As a top I put on a nice dress shirt and left it open to show the plain t-shirt underneath. I felt comfortable and when she placed the manacles on me I appreciated just what another work of art they were. They were large and seemed more in place with the slave collars that you would see in old photos. The chain that held the cuffs together was a rubber and after<b> experimenting </font></b>a little bit I found that I could scratch my nose as well as unzip myself if I had to go to the washroom. I figured I was in pretty good shape. The party was in full swing and I spent the first hour just marvelling at the costumes. They were all kinds of beautiful and I enjoyed finding the little bits of the real world hidden in them. Pouches that held cell phones and music players, leather work that had been reworked to make it distressed and old looking. And goddamn goggles everywhere. I really needed to ask what the hell was up with all the goggles. Finally I found a quiet place on a couch beside another refugee from the future. I managed to drink my beer (a kickass home brew) and was surprised when I was tapped on the shoulder. I had been leaning forward to make the act of drinking easier with my chains on. I turned to join my couch mate and we made small talk for a while. She had come with a guy she knew from work. She pointed him out and I admitted that the leather duster and whip made him quite striking. She giggled and said that you would never guess he was an inside salesman. We both laughed and I felt obliged to point out my captor. I mentioned that she was going to school and we shared the house together. It was completely out of the blue when my new friend told me that I loved her. I turned and before I could mount a counter argument to her statement I let it die. I could tell from her smug look that I knew she was right. She could read people too and I asked her as much. She said that she could see it in my eyes. That I sat at the edge of the couch and my eyes never seemed to leave her. That I was in the role of protector and guardian and she could see it without much effort. The rest of the night was spent between the two of us on the couch enjoying a talented equal. We looked at the room and sized them up for what they were. It was fun and I felt a very light connection to the woman on the couch. Too soon we were done with the night and were making out way of the house. I turned on the porch to thank our hosts for a wonderful night and was soon flailing on the edge of the deck. I had been bumped by my roommate moving way too fast as usual and I found myself falling. Only falling awkwardly due to the manacles. Hours later we were home. The stop at the hospital confirmed what I felt. I had broken my right collar bone falling off the deck. It was only a three foot fall but with my hands tied at my waist I couldn’t do much more than roll to a shoulder to break the fall. My collarbone suffered and now I had a sling as my new best friend. I spent half of my time at the emergency room drying my roommates eyes. She felt so horrible about this. Every chance I had to tell her I was fine was met with new tears. I think it was when I got off the bed to get another small box of Kleenex that she realized she needed to stop. We laughed about it and after a painkiller or two the night was almost kind of fun. I had a fantastic time outside of an injury and the image of my roommate crying and her mascara running as hard as her nose was one more for the scrapbook in my head. I had her ease me down into a recliner and bring me a blanket and pillow. Her guilt knew no limit and when she placed the pillow behind my head she may as well have buried my face in her breasts. My smile threatened to break my face. I asked if she needed a hand to get out of her outfit but she smiled and told me she usually slid right out. A night of being compressed like that made it sweaty and easy to slide down and around her body. I bid her good night and slept semi upright and dreamed about her sweaty torso and more so her breasts in my face. It was a good night. It was not such a good morning however. I found that one arm did not make cleaning that easy. I could shower one handed. Drying myself was another story all together. I felt like a newborn and fumbley and stupid. Shaving was worse and after swearing loudly and often I heard a knock at the door. I was soon standing there as my roommate lathered my whiskers and took up the razor. On one hand I wasn’t going to kill myself by bleeding to death via shaving nicks. On the other hand I was about to have a woman do a very intimate task for me. One that I wasn’t entirely comfortable with her doing but had agreed reluctantly. |
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i did good then?
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i have been there and it sure as hell is. gonna try to do it justice next time.
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4/23/2013 5:34 pm |
Damn Spidey!  Very well written Sir and I love the story!
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Damn Spidey! Very well written Sir and I love the story!
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