Not safe for most workplaces. Age 18+. Scarleteen is great for under 18.
It took me a bit to decide what I wanted to share, but I figured getting my post set up was better than struggling to finish the figging scene I'm currently writing in "Out of the Night: Book One." Yes, I said a figging :D It's not until the end of the book though and I may say that you have to read the book to get it :D hehe I love being a tease!
So yes, this is a little bit further from what I shared last... week, I think. They're still settling into The Queen's Manhattan loft after he went to the coffee house to bring Mearr home.
"The Queen and most of his boys aren't really typical men and the lofts have gotten a few women's touches." Ailee shed her boots and thick winter jacket before sitting on a large, comfortable-looking black sectional.
"So, Mearr, how about I put you on the couch next to Ailee? I need to take care of some things while Tommy runs a bath for you." The Queen struggled with his combat boots and then tossed his own trench to the floor.
"Uh... I..." Mearr sputtered, absolute terror entering her eyes upon seeing the massive, silk-covered bed in the far right corner of the room.
The Queen laid his hand on her cheek. "Stop," he commanded. "There is no reason for fear. I am not going to take advantage of you."
Mearr nodded her head though her fearful expression didn't change. Her arms wrapped around his neck as she clung to The Queen. She pressed her face against his neck.
"Hon, he's not going to rape you," Ailee soothed. "Why don't you come sit with me?"
"Okay. Shit, that bump on the head must have fucked me harder than I thought." Mearr released The Queen's neck and slipped to her feet. She shrugged her trench off and sank to the couch beside Ailee. Shivering, she huddled close to the corner.
"Let me grab you a blanket," Dr. Karl offered.
"I take it that this chaos is regular?" Mearr asked Ailee.
Ailee leaned her head back against the couch. "His sub Simon tries to keep order, but yeah, it's regular. Well a regular under the ceremony The Queen loves and Simon's order. Somethings can be depended on like if The Queen is going to call a formal dinner, it'll be at six."
As The Queen settled in to use his computer, Mearr studied the packed bookcase between the desk and the couch on which she and Ailee sat. Her gaze eagerly moved over a few intriguing titles: Anthem by Ayn Rand, The Chalice and the Blade: Our History, Our Future by Riane Eisler, Beyond Good and Evil by Friedrich Nietzsche, The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein.
"Do you remember the last time you ate?" he asked offhandedly.
She wrinkled her nose. "Uh... not really."
Dr. Karl approached with a red afghan. "Maybe you can tell Tommy something small you'd like to eat?"
The Queen snorted.
"You were about to go dom on her and you know that doesn't help usually," Dr. Karl scolded.
"I'm not hungry!" Mearr glared at The Queen.
The Queen spun around in his chair. "You have starved yourself for far too long and you will not be allowed to continue that in my house. You will eat by your own will or will be forced to eat. Do you understand?" he questioned with tight lips and furrowed brow.
"Ye... yes," she stammered, her eyes wide with fear and astonishment.
"How about a smoothie?" Tommy asked.
"Oh, okay, thanks," Mearr said and sank back into the couch. Her mood changed again, her fearful expression melted into a pensive frown. She watched Tommy cross the loft again.
The center of the room contained a full kitchen with a stove, refrigerator, an island with cupboard space below its Formica counter top, and a freestanding basin; Ailee patted Mearr's knee before saying, "How ever long you stay, enjoy yourself. The Queen will fix anything you let him."
"Can I get a break?" The Queen grinned at Ailee. "And it is not just about fixing, but empowering people to utilize agency we're all born with but oppression strips from us. And Mearr, you are a gorgeous woman."
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