Sometimes you just have to write down the silly, ridiculous, blush worthy things that come to mind. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.
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"Look, they got her a little." I leaned forward in my seat. Even though Trixie was a huge dog, the bulls dwarfed her. The single horn on each of their heads was slender, but looked wickedly sharp.
"That's old." Carol whispered, leaning back in her chair. "Hush, and watch." Trixie barked and herded and pushed and nudged at the bulls. I hadn't been excited before, but this was amazing. A small giggle passed my lips, and one of the bulls' huge heads swung around to look at me, it was the leader. It paused, the bellowed, whipping its huge head back around toward Trixie scratching a deep red line into her golden fur. All four of us watching gasped, and chaos ensued.
The bulls bellowed together and thrashed, throwing Trixie against the stalls walls and doors. She was gored more times and scratched. It was a miracle she wasn't trampled. We all sat stunned. The sounds she made were the worst. I wanted to go grab her but I couldn't move. I could barely follow Trixie's movement with my eyes.
Suddenly Carol stood and did what I wish I could have. She opened the stall and called to Trixie who shot out of the stall like a bullet from a gun. ClichΓ© but true. Trixie went straight to a crate that looked to be made of some sort of reinforced metal bars. I wondered why she would do something like that, but when the bulls tried to follow her I wished I could have fit in the box with her. But somehow Carol managed to keep them inside. She had to be some kind of superhero.
The next moments were a blur. I heard a mix of sounds, and saw a mix of colors, but the next things I was really aware of were Trixie's whimpers next to my cheek and Carol's hand on my shoulder blade. The other two were gone. I didn't mind. I didn't really know them some random cousins of Grey.
The bulls were quiet; Carol had somehow gotten them into their separate corrals. "You okay?" She asked, I nodded. Trixie licked the fingers I draped through the bars of the crate. "You want to help me with the next bit?" I shrugged and stood. I wiped my hands on my pants. I was a bit dazed. I really hoped Trixie would be okay, but Carol didn't seem too worried.
Carol pulled another large crate from the stall we were sitting in. It held small black and red rocks. She nodded to another crate further back covered with a dark cloth.
"Those are fire iguanas, very poisonous, but they like to help us. They put a leg in the box and release some venom, we put the bull's leg in the box and they get punished. Come on we've got to do it fast or it doesn't work as well."
The iguanas were huge and stocky, but very complacent. One by one thy placed their right front foot into the box then filed back into their crate. It was very uncanny, but then again lots of things about this new life were strange and uncanny, like unicorn bulls, and well, everything else. The worst thing about the iguanas, though, was their eyes, there were almost human, but that wasn't it, it was more than that. There was definitely someone home, and yet they were going to sit in that crate for who knew how long.
Carol turned to take the box of poison to the bulls and I discretely brushed my hand over the head of the last iguana. It was warm to the touch. On of the warmest and softest things I had ever touched, nothing like the scaly cool skin I had been expecting. So, so soft. I touched my hand to my lips trying to preserve the feeling. Softer than velvet. It was how Haley had described first touching her boyfriends dick. Softer than velvet. I shook my head. Gross. That's how I had ended up at the barn at 7:30 am on a Saturday morning anyway. To avoid Grey's penis. What a douche- what a gorgeous douche. But was he really, a douche, he had been pretty nice to me, and he was so pretty-
"Alex! What are you doing, come here and help me carry!" I turned my head, oops. I stood, my fingers still against my lips, tingling slightly Softer than velvet.
The tingle didn't fade. In fact it seemed to get stronger. I couldn't seem to sit still at breakfast, I tore my croissant into tiny pieces and picked at the pulp in my orange juice, but worst of all, each time I crossed and uncrossed my legs I somehow brushed against Grey's legs. Each time his eyes would seek mine until he caught them.
Grey's eyes were his most dangerous features. They were the one that made me most want to give in to temptation. The ones I pictured looking up into as he thrust into me from above, my nails digging into his sweat slicked back as I gasped for breath- wait, what, I'd never thought that before, what was going on? I focused on separating my croissant pieces into layers, then crossed my legs, this time to fidgety and to readjust the suddenly hard flesh between my legs.
"Alex, you seem flushed, are you okay?" I blushed more and eagerly assured my soon to be mother in law I was quite all right. Carol looked at me suspiciously. I tore another bit of my croissant and pulled my legs under me on my chair. No chance of accidental footsie now.
I made my self eat, and be still. I avoided looks from all at the table and got lost in my thoughts:
Trixie running from the stall, blood dripping through her golden fur.
The bulls with single horns, their horns making their shadows look like fat unicorns. They looked magic, especially at night, everything here seemed magical at night. The rose garden, the bulls, even Grey and all his family, the house, especially when I wandered through waiting for everyone to fall asleep.
Haley. How much I missed her.
Softer than velvet, smoother than silk.
How fast everything had changed
Grey
How bad would it be to give in? To let him- take me, would it hurt? Well I knew it would hurt, how bad would it hurt, would I still be me?
Would I ever be able to go home?
Would home ever be home again?
Chocolate brown eyes flecked with gold, darkened with lust, no it was love, looking down at me-
That first night, how Grey had lit all those candles, had made up the bed with white silk sheets, the champagne and chocolate. How he knew sour patch kids were my favorite candy and how he had them there in a cut glass bowl on the nightstand. How I had cried. All the names I had called him, how patient he had been with me, how patient he was still being. Four weeks he had slept on the floor, three weeks I had built a pillow wall between us and now, with me slipping in and out of bed when he was asleep, the names I still called him.