Wednesday, March 30, 2016

Jarod Black, Chapter Two Part One

Greetings and happy Wednesday. Sorry about missing last week's post. Denver got hit with a blizzard and I had no power for 36 hours, which meant no internet access for my laptop and no way to transfer the story to my phone, which did have power.

Still no title for the story yet, though I'm kind of leaning toward just calling it "Jarod Black". That's not too cheesy, is it? Anywho, here's this week's story chunk. Enjoy!

~Rebecca

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *



Pain was an interesting thing, Jarod thought. It could manifest in many ways, sometimes all at once. While bound in ropes with his hands tied behind him, the pain in his shoulder had been cold and jagged, like ice crystals. When they spread him and tied him to the bed, the pain of having his arm pulled out and up away from his body became a tearing burn. With that tearing burn, though, had come icy jagged ice crystals in his ribs and left hip, the same side as his damaged shoulder. He guessed that meant he had other damage there, too, which explained why the healer had looked so worried.
All of that was forgotten when the sensuously beautiful healer disrobed and climbed atop him, straddling his waist. Her delicate frame was child sized atop him, her long wavy golden hair tickling his hips when she arched back. Her luscious breasts were anything but childlike. They were large for her frame and tipped with pouty pink nipples. He was so entranced by them, thrust out like an offering to the Goddess, that he didn't notice the dagger plunging down until that pain ripped him apart.
He had only vague impressions for a long time after that. The stab had started off like any stab wound, with a sick flicker of pain. Then liquid fire poured through the wound like scalding blood escaping in rather than out. The burn spread through his veins, pumped along by his racing heart. Finally, it reached his brain and he passed out.
The next time he became aware of anything, it was the smell of something so delicious that he could feel his stomach cramping in anticipation. His mouth was watering as he wondered what something that smelled that good would taste like. He felt something cool and moist touch his lips and he snapped for it. The flavor filled his mouth, even richer than the scent had promised. Ah, it was heaven! He wanted more! He sensed that another piece of food was close to his mouth and snapped again, snatching the offering up. He felt a sharp blow land across his nose. He opened his eyes, startled.
Beside him sat the man. He felt like he should know this man but he couldn't think past his hunger. He growled and the man tapped his nose again.
"Behave or you'll not get anymore," the man said. It was a struggle for him to understand the words. But as he watched, the man reached over to a platter and picked up a long strip of red, bloody meat. The scent of the meat was like a hit of ambrosia! There, he thought as he struggled. That was the source of the heavenly scent and amazing flavor!
He growled again, his teeth bared in a snarl. Another tap on his nose startled him into silence.
"I said," the man began, "behave or you'll not get anymore."
He stared at the food, refusing to meet the man's gaze. He understood now. The man was trying to assert dominance over him. The man wasn't going to give him that tasty meat until he submitted. He didn't want to submit but he did want more food.
The man began waving the food slowly back and forth, filling the air with its succulent smell. As his stomach cramped with hunger, he tried to remember that being dominated by the man was bad. Or was it? He wasn't sure if it was bad or not. He didn't want to submit but he didn't think it was wrong to do so.
The meat strip crept closer to his mouth. He fought the urge to snap at it, suspecting the man would pull it back if he did. He waited until it was almost to his lips and then met the man's gaze reluctantly before slowly drawing the food into his mouth with his tongue. The man smiled warmly.
"Very good, Black," the man crooned as he picked up another strip of meat. "You have the instincts of a beast now, but you are still a man."
Beast? Yes, that sounded right. He was a beast now but also a man. The thought drifted through his mind as the man—master—fed him another strip of meat.
His master put a cover over the platter, cutting off the smell of fresh meat. He growled, not satisfied with how little food he'd been given. Master tapped his nose again, so he chuffed his annoyance instead.
Then Master did something unexpected. He touched his cheek softly and caressed him. It felt so good that he lifted his chin, begging for more. Master smiled and lightly scratched his chin. Ah! That was wonderful! He closed his eyes and setting in to enjoy the sensation.

5 comments:

Pat C. said...

Blizzards? Power outages? Yep, it's spring.

This one's just chocked full of savory imagery goodness. So what kind of animal is he now?

Rebecca Gillan said...

I can confirm that Jarod is not a hamster. ;)

Pat C. said...

You have got to keep this up. You're getting serious reader hits on this.

Rebecca Gillan said...

I have no plans on stopping. In fact, I've already scrapped most of the ending of the "original" 6k word short story because the characters have been filling me in on more of their story.

Pat C. said...

Yay!