The Writers Rotunda

Thanks to dannythebaltimoron for his editing skills and to ringerosie this is dedicated to you M'lady.

I sat there, the spare wheel it felt like to the writers rotunda, sighing in anticipation of what was to come. There were five of us. The woman at the end of the table, the "famous" author on the panel. Three others having just been published and then there was me. I was the token local flavor, with a handful of short stories having seen the light of day. The only thing we all had in common was the genre, erotic horror. After that, there was little to distinguish me from others. I might as well be the janitor of the store.

It was a monthly ritual, the invitation extended and as the store owner began to speak I let my mind wander. I knew there would be no questions coming my way, I was simply the ballast to steady the ship. He praised the striking woman who sat at the far end, the seat of honor. I'd given her my usual look. A shy glance toward such a beautiful creature, catching a glimpse of red hair with an unusual but quite complimentary streak of not gray but almost silver running down its length. She wore a hat, a large brimmed one with a touch of a black lace veil covering her face. An air of mystery as was her latest novel which I had devoured in a single nights read.

The first question came from a breathless young woman in the front row and was addressed to the writer in question. Her response was kind in her praise, her voice soft, almost a whisper. I sat quietly, knowing the night would pass and I wouldn't even have the courage to say hello, less introduce myself. I too wanted to tell her I found her work to be incredible. A fresh breath in today's lurid gothic sex pulp mill.

I sat there a bit lost in thought as the others were queried until the moderator finally announced that there was only time for one final question. To my utter amazement, the woman stated boldly that she had a question for one of the others on the panel. "Mr. Samuels, in reading your works I notice you have a penchant for writing in the first person, especially from the feminine point of view. Why is that?"

Sitting there a bit in shock, I pondered her words. I took a bit too long for another as one of the other people sitting to my right muttered out. "Probably because he's some kind of freak."

I heard nervous laughter as I felt my face flush quickly, the crimson rising to it. Before I could voice my disapproval I heard another voice rise, this time not so much a whisper as a command. "I would think sir that Mr. Samuels sexual preference shouldn't concern you nearly as much as the potential lawsuit you should soon be in court over. Your work bares more than a striking resemblance to a novel first published eight years ago. Does the author Angela Osbourne perhaps ring a bell?"

Based on the look on his face, it was as if he had been caught red handed with his hand in the cookie jar. He quickly stood, mumbling, making his way from the panel, striding quickly towards the door. The discussion seemed to break up as I stood, seeing the throng begin to surround the woman at the end of the table, books in hand. Their adoration raining down upon her.

I on the other hand simply walked away. Making my way toward the door but as I reached to turn the doorknob, a voice filled my head. As soft as a whisper but the sound a familiar one. "You did not answer my question Mr. Samuels and I pray you will not leave me wanting." Turning, I saw her face lifted. The veil though still showing me little but I felt her eyes upon me as I slowly let the door close.

Sitting back down in the shadows, I felt my body tremble, wondering how she could have done that. How her voice could have resounded in my mind only to hear a laugh, almost musical in tone. "I will explain all in time dear boy, only know this. There is far more to me than the words one might read on paper. As I suspect there is far more to you than meets the eye."

I could not have left now even if I wanted to. I felt as if my legs would betray me if I dared stand. I simply sat there until the crowd began to wane and I saw her rise. She moved towards me, nodding and like an obedient pet, I began to follow. She went out the door, towards the vehicle waiting. The door was open as she moved fluidly inside, the driver motioning for me to follow.

Within seconds the vehicle pulled from the curb, the darkness of night throwing shadows. I saw her hand reach out, picking up a glass, taking a sip of wine before turning her attention to me. She lifted her veil slowly, her eyes in the dark almost black, in reality a midnight blue in color. The streak in her hair was silhouetted in the moonlight, the red almost blood like in color. It her was her voice though, hypnotic in sound which called to me.

"You will stay with me this night Mr. Samuels. I have questions to be answered and needs which need fulfilled. You will do this for me and more dear boy. Is that clear?"

Once again I felt powerless as her hand reached out, touching my face. Her long nails gleaming even in the dimness of the light, her touch almost electric yet soothing. I felt my head nod with a will of its own and she favored me with a smile. "So tell me, I asked you a question back there. What is your answer?"

I started to speak, to weave words which would really not answer the question, merely give that illusion. For some reason what came out of my mouth was precisely as she had commanded. I spoke calmly, precisely as the monotone sound of my own voice, as if dulled by either drink or drug explained. Speaking of that which I had never dared speak of in the light of day or in this case dark of night.

When I finished I shook my head like a dog trying to clear the water from his fur. In my case I was trying to shake the feeling of the almost dreamlike state which I found myself in. I did this only to hear that voice, her voice inside my head again. "To fight me is useless Mr. Samuels. I can read your true feelings, your true desires and if there is one thing I can not abide is for someone to speak to me with lies. Let me make that point clear to you."

She reached out, her touch light, soft but when it made contact with my skin my body reacted as if it had been pierced by a thousand needles. I would have screamed but the pain was so overwhelming I could only sit there frozen to the spot. My body shaking violently, her voice now like that of a patient teacher saying, "There can be pain for pain's sake good Sir or you can find pain will lead to great pleasure. The only question is, which do you require?"

With that, a second touch. My body began to calm, the nerve endings which had been so raw beginning to close. "We have quite a journey ahead of us Jonathan Samuels, perhaps it would be best if you were to rest." Her words had no sooner filled my mind than my body obeyed. My head falling forward, my eyes closing as I slumped over. She gently moved me as if I were as light as a feather. My head resting in her lap as she smoothed a lock of my hair from my forehead. A slight smile playing upon her lips as her fingers then trailed across my neck.

When I awoke, it was to find myself in a room, a huge four poster bed its only piece of furniture. I heard a seductive voice say softly, "Undress for me Mr. Samuels, I desire to see your flesh."

I moved slowly, woodenly as I began to comply. It was like an out of body experience. My mind seemingly unaffected but incapable of any action except that which this woman desired. She watched me with a calm, almost detached look upon her face. Waiting until I had neatly folded all of my items, then standing again for her approval. My look like that of a victim of some kind of shock, uncomprehending, helpless.

My mind seemed to be playing tricks with me, her body almost shimmering as she removed her hat. Her long hair spilling forth. The clothes she wore seemed to disappear, her skin almost translucent in texture and tone. It was in her eyes though that I found myself lost. They called to me like a siren's song and all I could think of was I wanted to hear that melody until the end of time.

The words I heard again filled my mind. She had only shown those at the book store what they wanted to see. There was a reason her works were so widely acclaimed. She wrote from experience, having lived for thousands of years. Her body was in appearance young and vibrant but her spirit was an old one. One that was drawn to pain and sorrow. She would look to grant peace to souls such as that but as always, at a cost.

As she approached me I heard, "You will lay down on the bed Jonathan Samuels. I will guide you, show you your path. You have strayed from it for so long you are lost, so very lost good Sir. Grant me what I desire and I shall give you the peace that you have prayed for. Take away the pain which has been your constant companion for far too many of your years on this earth."

I obeyed as she moved fluidly to join me, straddling my face. Her sex, its perfume filling my nostrils, covering my mouth. She let her nails rake at my chest as I cried out. The sound muffled, the command unspoken as I let my tongue began to bring her the pleasure she demanded. Using her hands like a lash, she drew streak after streak down my chest. Each jolt of pain spurring me on as she raced for her own climax. The skin finally relenting, drops of blood appearing near my right nipple. She took it in her mouth, biting harshly as I felt her whole body shudder. My face quickly drenched with the reward for my efforts.

The blood painting her lips, the look in her eyes orgasmic as she reached down, allowing me to feel the liquid velvet of her opening. A promise of the pleasure which awaited within. I heard a sound, soft whimpers unaware they were coming from my own lips as she smiled and she granted me entrance. My eyes closing, the feeling like nothing I had ever experienced before.

My body felt so alive, my spirit seemingly floating above, seeing the vision of the red haired beauty as she rode me, her body once again moving so fluidly as if to be dancing. With each movement I fell deeper and deeper into her spell, her eyes, her words, her body promising me the best was yet to come. I heard the voice, the single query asked. "Do you desire my gift that I would bestow upon you Jonathan Samuels?"

She saw the answer in my eyes as her lips found my neck, the bite sending me over the edge of the abyss, falling to the rocks below. I saw it from above as she drank greedily from the well, my long brown hair turning to match her own, the silver shining brightly. My desire spilled forth as she leaned in, her lips almost pressed up against my ear. Her breath was warm, her voice filled with a mixture of lust, power and most importantly, control. She spoke only a single word. "MINE."

THE END.

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