hands at that thought, telling it to get far, far, far away from my consciousness. Another thing I never want to be is someone’s rebound queen—ever.
Chapter Nine
It’s been an interesting week since I heard from Jonas. I picked up a couple new clients who proved to be both amusing and entertaining. They’re twins and they booked me for the entire week. Each night they’ve appeared as someone different. The first night they sauntered in as the Brewer twins, circa 2015. They were sun-bleached blond and surfer-boy buff. We did it on a surfboard in the sea, bobbing in the waves. Each guy took turns with me. As awkward as it sounds, I even went down on one of them, sitting at one end of the surfboard, while the other pumped me from behind. You can do what you want in my Headspace and defy natural laws—like falling off the surfboard when a wave hits. That stuff doesn’t happen unless we let it.
They arrived the next night as the Twin Foxes, Albert and Ebenezer Fox, famous poachers from the late eighteen hundreds. That night the avatar Juliana was to be the “game” they were hunting. A huge reward was set for their capture. An even larger reward was set for myavatar’s capture. Once they caught me, I was bound, gagged, and treated to innumerable delights by the twins.
Tonight, they promised a “special treat.” At half past ten, I’m beckoned by a silky sensation along my throat. I stroke my lips and I wander into my Headspace for some fun. “Hey, big dogs, who wants to come out and play?”
The scene immediately shifts to baked summer hills and sparse grass plains. Puffy white clouds linger in the summer sky.
Two huge roan stallions prance into the space, bearing two Greek gods, Castor and Polydeuces. Thank heavens I excelled in my Greek mythology courses. Here we are in ancient Greece again. The horses’ necks are covered with foamy sweat as if they’ve been racing to get here. They toss their heads as they stand, impatient, excited, eager to move.
I immediately split into two avatars, Phoebe and Hilaera, known as the “daughters of the white horse,” who married the twins, defying their intended husbands. I and I look at each other and shrug. It’s the first time I’ve experienced myself as two entities and I’m eager to see what happens. My avatars are dressed in simple gowns that drape down to sandaled feet. One of us wears an earthy orange chiton. The other sports a green tunic. All that hooey about Greeks wearing nothing but white is just that—hooey.
Castor and Polydeuces are built of solid muscle. Their skin is burnished gold with touches of green, like oxidized copper. They dismount their stallions at the exact same time, like it’s a choreographed dance. They strut before me—I mean us—they strut before us, giving us time to take in their strength…to admire their long foreskin-covered phalluses hanging proudly between their legs. My two avatars coo and compliment. It’s odd to have two perspectives going on at the same time but I manage to roll with it. In one mind, I’m demur and shy. The other avatar is bold and outspoken.
“What say you, maidens?” the one called Castor asks. “Think you you could find us pleasing to run off with?”
“You are fine to behold, sir, but we are betrothed.”
“We think otherwise,” Polydeuces claims. “We are here to prove you wrong. Wouldn’t you rather have us?”
“Why, yes, fine sirs, you are without a doubt handsome. Your strength is legendary. But our betrotheds will not stand for this. You must leave us and get away while you can.” I’m enjoying this fanciful play. I always was a sucker for make-believe. One of me, the shy one, bats my eyelashes and looks at my feet, dusty in the heat of the midday sun.
The horses whinny and scrape the ground with their hooves.
“Our steeds grow impatient. Let us leave. Together…”
Two horses with riders appear in the distance. They are galloping with a fury in our direction.
“Oh,
Chapter Nine
It’s been an interesting week since I heard from Jonas. I picked up a couple new clients who proved to be both amusing and entertaining. They’re twins and they booked me for the entire week. Each night they’ve appeared as someone different. The first night they sauntered in as the Brewer twins, circa 2015. They were sun-bleached blond and surfer-boy buff. We did it on a surfboard in the sea, bobbing in the waves. Each guy took turns with me. As awkward as it sounds, I even went down on one of them, sitting at one end of the surfboard, while the other pumped me from behind. You can do what you want in my Headspace and defy natural laws—like falling off the surfboard when a wave hits. That stuff doesn’t happen unless we let it.
They arrived the next night as the Twin Foxes, Albert and Ebenezer Fox, famous poachers from the late eighteen hundreds. That night the avatar Juliana was to be the “game” they were hunting. A huge reward was set for their capture. An even larger reward was set for myavatar’s capture. Once they caught me, I was bound, gagged, and treated to innumerable delights by the twins.
Tonight, they promised a “special treat.” At half past ten, I’m beckoned by a silky sensation along my throat. I stroke my lips and I wander into my Headspace for some fun. “Hey, big dogs, who wants to come out and play?”
The scene immediately shifts to baked summer hills and sparse grass plains. Puffy white clouds linger in the summer sky.
Two huge roan stallions prance into the space, bearing two Greek gods, Castor and Polydeuces. Thank heavens I excelled in my Greek mythology courses. Here we are in ancient Greece again. The horses’ necks are covered with foamy sweat as if they’ve been racing to get here. They toss their heads as they stand, impatient, excited, eager to move.
I immediately split into two avatars, Phoebe and Hilaera, known as the “daughters of the white horse,” who married the twins, defying their intended husbands. I and I look at each other and shrug. It’s the first time I’ve experienced myself as two entities and I’m eager to see what happens. My avatars are dressed in simple gowns that drape down to sandaled feet. One of us wears an earthy orange chiton. The other sports a green tunic. All that hooey about Greeks wearing nothing but white is just that—hooey.
Castor and Polydeuces are built of solid muscle. Their skin is burnished gold with touches of green, like oxidized copper. They dismount their stallions at the exact same time, like it’s a choreographed dance. They strut before me—I mean us—they strut before us, giving us time to take in their strength…to admire their long foreskin-covered phalluses hanging proudly between their legs. My two avatars coo and compliment. It’s odd to have two perspectives going on at the same time but I manage to roll with it. In one mind, I’m demur and shy. The other avatar is bold and outspoken.
“What say you, maidens?” the one called Castor asks. “Think you you could find us pleasing to run off with?”
“You are fine to behold, sir, but we are betrothed.”
“We think otherwise,” Polydeuces claims. “We are here to prove you wrong. Wouldn’t you rather have us?”
“Why, yes, fine sirs, you are without a doubt handsome. Your strength is legendary. But our betrotheds will not stand for this. You must leave us and get away while you can.” I’m enjoying this fanciful play. I always was a sucker for make-believe. One of me, the shy one, bats my eyelashes and looks at my feet, dusty in the heat of the midday sun.
The horses whinny and scrape the ground with their hooves.
“Our steeds grow impatient. Let us leave. Together…”
Two horses with riders appear in the distance. They are galloping with a fury in our direction.
“Oh,
Similar Books
