May 28, 2015

Once collared, she became my pet.

Oh, Writerly, you've done it again. You've given me a prompt that slow-danced in my mind for days. (Maybe weeks.) The exact wording of the prompt itself has left the building—was it "cat fight"? But the story starter burned a hole in my psyche and led to...

Once Collared

We didn't get on at first. There was competition among the staff, an aura of last-man standing that did not lead to friendly talks in the break room or gossip around the water cooler. She would cut her eyes at me in meetings. I'd leave a room when she entered. I wasn't interested in her world out of the office. I had no curiosity as to whether she went out with friends in the evenings or returned home to a barren apartment. We both desired the same promotion—and there was no reason for me to allow feelings to get involved.

And then I ran into her one Sunday morning at a cafe far from work. No power suits. No curt hellos. She was standing in line waiting to order. I stepped back and watched her. For the first time, I saw the nape of her neck, that graceful spot below her high ponytail. I could kiss that spot, I thought, and then I flinched, startled by my own desires.

She ordered black coffee to go, and when she turned around, her eyes swept over me. I felt a connection—as if we'd undergone a transformation together. But I didn't know if she sensed the difference.

In meetings, she would look away when I spoke, becoming vastly absorbed in her own notes. In the hallways, she would walk by me as if we were strangers. Now, she came to my side and there was an unreadable expression on her face. She seemed naked to me. As if I had sliced through her pale gray t-shirt, dark gray slacks. As if I had exposed her.

She licked her lip, still staring at me. I took a risk. I fisted her ponytail, like I'd imagined, and I tilted her head up. I kissed her coffee-scented lips, then bit her bottom lip, hard.

I could see the future. I could see her cuffed to my bed. I could see the pain I longed to inflict and the pleasure I would bring her.

And I knew, once collared, she'd become my pet.


350 words. Part of a longer project I'm wrangling. Thank you, Writerly.


1 comment:

Miz Angell said...

Wow. Yum. And I think I need that collar.