The Crimson Z

by Robert Cloud, Lee Rush, Richard Savage

  She saw a smile brighten his face as he looked at her and his eyes gleamed then her heart filled with joy as he spoke, “No sweetheart, I want to tell you the stories. I enjoy having you here for one. I also found I really did enjoy telling you that story last night, especially when we got to a few of the more vivid scenes that made your face turn redder than the rubies in that cabinet."

  Melanie giggled. She could feel her heart fluttering. She had truly not known how to handle those scenes when he had told them for she had not thought very much about sex at all. Until last night she had never pictured a sexual act at all and then to have one explained to her in such detail that it was impossible not to picture it was unbelievable. She looked at him and said, “Well Papa Zach, I turn eighteen at midnight on Halloween, so I do not see anything wrong with you telling me those kinds of stories. Besides in New York the legal age of consent is seventeen so if I can legally have sex at seventeen I should be able to hear stories about it.” She could feel her face turning more brightly red than it had the night before. She turned to try to hide her face as for just a moment she had pictured herself in the arms of Papa Zach and as those images had caressed her mind she had realized it was someplace she really wanted to be.

  Thankfully it was Papa Zach's question that pulled her mind from those thoughts and brought her back to the moment helping her to recover from the blush she'd hoped he had not seen, “Did you say eighteen at midnight?"

  "Yup!” She smiled, “I was born at the stroke of midnight."

  "That is interesting, and on All Hallow's Eve"

  "That is right. My first breath was taken on November 1st."

  Zach smiled. “Well you are a special little girl then aren't you? Perhaps I should call you my lil golem?"

  Melanie laughed and hugged him, “Papa Zach, you may call me anything you wish, but ummm ... What's a golem?"

  Zachariah laughed for a moment and rubbed her hair, then said, “A golem was a creature formed from mud or clay that a Sorcerer breathed life into. He was supposed to do it at the stroke of midnight and they were very special creatures.

  "You could not tell them from real humans, or whatever other creature they were made to represent once life was breathed into them. They were guardians, protectors of their maker, or they were their maker's companion and friend."

  Melanie giggled and smiled at him. “Nah! I am not a golem. I am more the Sorceress,” Melanie said then she wiggled her fingers and acted like she was casting a spell upon him just before bursting into laughter so hard she had to hold her stomach. Zachariah joined her laughter. As Melanie watched his face fill with a smile there was also some kind of shadow that hid behind his eyes.

  It was like her little joke had hit a spot in him that was too close to home. She did not really believe the jewelry was magical, yet the stories were nice. Still, something told her that there was more to all of this than just stories, that somewhere there lay a lot of truth to what Papa Zach was telling her and behind that was a darkness that was eating away at his soul. She did not know if she could help but her feelings for him were growing stronger and she desperately wanted to try to free him from whatever it was that was tormenting him.

  Slowly he caught his breath and smiled to her, though his eyes still held that shadow. He laughed a little and then asked her, “Do you want that story?” then he pointed to the cabinet.

  Melanie did not want to let him know that she suspected anything at all was wrong, and besides she truly was excited about hearing another one of his amazing stories. She felt like she was floating on air as she bounded over to the cabinet and opened the doors. She scanned over the pieces and then saw something that caught her eyes. Most of the pieces were singular, just one item, but in one slot there were five pieces that were almost identical. Two large pendants of two toned gold, a yellow gold, and then upon it and slightly raised a rose hued gold that formed a stylistic P. There were three smaller pendants that matched the larger pieces perfectly.

  "Papa Zach, will you tell me about those five pieces."

  He looked where she was pointing and could feel a flush cross his own face. Melanie giggled and said, “Now look who is blushing."

  Laughing loudly he said, “Then so be it, Melanie, I will tell you their tale, the tale of Peter and Evelyn."

  The Anniversary

  A Short Novella by Richard Savage

  Chapter One

  The brilliant white headlights from Evelyn's Jaguar cut through the darkness as she drove through the night. Her only companion on this cold night was a single red rose, which sat on the passenger seat. Her knuckles were tight, as her nervous fingers gripped the leather-covered steering wheel.

  Her sumptuous, silk stockinged, thighs rubbed together pleasingly as she changed gears. Wearing silk stockings had always aroused her. The tightness of the darker band at the top of her thigh and the way it hugged her securely made her legs feel lovingly restrained, making her whole body pulse and tingle with excitement.

  It had been twelve months to the day since she had last met with her clandestine lover. The tension that was coiled within her was beginning to show as she neared her destination. She checked her clothing for the thousandth time, since getting dressed that afternoon.

  Peter's instructions had been precise, what to wear, and when to change into it. This had done nothing to help her nervousness and anticipation of their meeting.

  Peter was a stickler for detail, and she found it easy to comply with his dress code. Her crisp white, linen blouse and smart black A-line skirt did not look out of place from her normal office attire. For many years now, she had worn stockings and garter belt, so that was not unusual either. Late in the afternoon, she had changed into the final items. These she only wore on this day of the year now. Their touch on her skin felt unusual now, yet strangely comforting.

  She squirmed against the Jaguar's leather seat, as the chain caressed her intimately. She looked at the amber lighted digital clock. She looked at the mileage counter willing it to speed up. Time passed incredibly slowly making her feel like a small child on her way to the seaside; constantly asking are we there yet?

  Her mind drifted back over the challenging day she had spent at the office and the assortment of problems she had tackled. She contemplated the duality of her nature, her assertiveness in the office and the passivity when she was with Peter. She drew similar parallels between Peter and James, the two men she loved, but who were so different.

  This early evening meeting had been her main focus for the past week and she had hardly been able to think of anything else. As the amber digits ticked relentlessly by, and she neared her destination the tension she felt rose to a crescendo.

  As she drove, Evelyn went through her mental checklist. Had she dressed correctly? Was she fully prepared? God she hoped so. Peter had always been a stickler for detail and would notice a hair out of place. Yet again, as she went through her cerebral preparations, she felt a moistness, a liquid glow, like her very core was melting and with these feelings of desire, came a gut wrenching pang of guilt.

  Suddenly a cold rush, swept over her. How could she betray her husband? How could she be unfaithful to such a good man, for this one night of passion? With a lump in her throat, she thought of James, and their three-year marriage and the vows she was breaking. Yet tonight, as she had done for the past four years, she would give herself totally to Peter and nothing on earth could or would stop her from making that rendezvous.

  She loved James dearly. Their three-year marriage was a happy one. James was a good man, a loving and caring partner. He was a very straightforward man, uncomplicated. He was the type that if he said something, you knew he meant it. If he promised to do something, he would do it. She loved James for all that he was, yet there was one thing he was not, and could never be. He was not her Master. She had only ever had one Master. Peter.

  Her love for Peter was not the same as her love for James. She loved James with her heart but Peter she loved with her very soul
.

  The one thing that had united her two lovers was their love for her, but the two men in her life were entirety different in nature and temperament. There was a hard edge to Peter, something uncompromising. He had a natural authority about him. He was and always had been every inch the man in control.

  The flash of a rabbit darting across the road brought her back to the here and now. The rumble of the tires on asphalt lulled her back to her thoughts.

  Evelyn had been married to Peter when she had met James. She had known James for years before she had married him and until then had always thought of him as a good friend. Their three-year marriage had only deepened her feelings for James.

  James was altogether softer and a much more tender person, a man that loved her unconditionally just as she was. In return, she loved him. She knew he loved every inch of her soft rounded body, by the attention he lavished upon her. Yet, he was not a demanding man. He always put her needs first, which was very nice, though slightly irritating at times, as she much preferred assertive men.

  Her mother had described him once as “Low maintenance” He was a man that despite her flaws would always be there for her. Making love to James, was soft and tender, he never neglected any morsel of her. His tastes though were pure vanilla, missionary with the occasional oral gratification, which he was happy to reciprocate.

  They first met at work. James worked in the same office block as she did, though not for the same firm, and their lunch hours had coincided. She soon came to think of him, as the big brother she had never had. Their shared lunches had been a pleasant thing to look forward to each day. They laughed freely over a coffee and sandwiches for years. That had been a happy time, which she always looked back on with fondness.

  Then there was a time when they no longer met for lunch. Dark Clouds had descended in her life. It had been a bleak and stormy time, and Evelyn had retreated to a place deep within herself. It had been a time when there was no light in the day, a time when she had wanted to die. A time when she had been a soulless shell. It was in this that depth of despair that James had found her. He had breathed life into her again, bringing her back from the edge. He had brought her back into the light, helping her to see the joy of the new day and helping her to laugh again. That was four years ago now.

  The engine growled and Evelyn changed to a lower gear, as the road became more winding. She knew she was close to her destination now and she felt the pang of hunger in her stomach and the all too familiar ache between her thighs. She could not wait to be with Peter.

  Peter, had been and still was, her passion. Evelyn had known him for what had seemed like forever. She had known him for years before she had ever met James. Theirs had been a whirlwind romance, flowers, candle light dinners, moon light trysts. As their relationship deepened Peter's nature and his strength came to the fore. Evelyn swallowed, as she heard the words in her head “Love, honor, and obey."

  Evelyn had been brought up to believe in sexual equality, and she did believe, but there had been something missing in her life when she met Peter. From the very start, there was a power with Peter, not a menacing power to be sure, but an authority. This was not a simple macho manifestation, but a deep-rooted natural power, a light that drew Evelyn like a moth to a flame.

  It had started easily enough at an electronics trade show, she was there as the personal assistant for a corporate buyer. The meetings that she had attended had finished and she was free to browse around the exhibition. She looked around curiously although in truth electronic gadgets left her a bit cold. Across the room, she saw Peter. Their eyes met and there was an instant connection. There was a delicious flirtation as they played from across the room. Eventually Evelyn made her way to the stand where Peter was giving a demonstration of a highly complicated piece of equipment. The customer moved on, Peter stepped up to Evelyn and introduced himself. His smile that day would be burned into her memory for all eternity.

  Evelyn's partners before Peter had been few. In those days of stick thin models, not everyone appreciated her fuller figure. Those who had, had left her feeling unfulfilled and that sex was overrated. The early dates and dinners with Peter were much like those she'd had in the past, with the exception that Peter had not pounced on her at the end of the first date. A simple tender kiss had sufficed at the end of the date. In fact, after the third date she had begun to worry that Peter was not as attracted to her as she was to him and it had been Evelyn that made the first move.

  After dinner, she had invited him back for coffee. He browsed her CD collection as she rattled coffee cups in the kitchen. She asked him how he liked his coffee; he replied strong, black and no sugar.

  Evelyn returned with a tray, with cups and a café tire. They sipped coffee for a while. Peter looked totally at ease as he sat on the couch. Evelyn, by contrast was nervous and fidgeting. What was he waiting for? Surly he could see she wanted him, yet there he sat, pleasantly smiling and making small talk. She flirted with him, trying to add suggestive snippets like, “I have always been into bedroom design, it allows you to express yourself,” into the conversation. She had expected a response like “I would be interested to see how you have decorated yours.” However, no such response had been forthcoming.

  It was obvious to her that Peter was interested, yet he took none of the opportunities to follow up with a suggestive comment of his own. The attraction was obvious yet he did not make a move.

  They finished the coffee and she felt it was now or never. She wanted Peter and she knew that Peter wanted her. With a tremble in her voice, she said, “I would like you to stay."

  "I would like that very much,” he answered, his tone warm, yet authoritative. His tone made her tingle.

  "Shall I slip into something more comfortable?” There was a noticeable quaver in her voice.

  "I think you are fine as you are.” There was something in Peter's voice that put him firmly in control. “I would like you to stand.” The politeness in his request did not hide the fact that it was an instruction.

  She smiled and stood, a little shakily. She had always been a little self-conscious about her body. Her teenage years had done nothing for her self-esteem. Back then, she had dreaded going to the swimming pool, even though she loved the water and loved to swim. In a swimsuit, she had felt so exposed, vulnerable, and very aware that her body was not the type found in the glossy teen magazines. As a teenager thoughts of communal showers with the other girls, had made her feel physically sick. Many nights she had cried herself to sleep, dreaming of the sylph like body she would never have. The cruel jibes made her frustrated and angry.

  This was before therapy. During the many hours of therapy, she had come to realize her size 18 dress size was not at all abnormal and her Monroe like curves were not bad although they simply did not comply to the stereotypical pencil thin models in Vogue.

  Yet even with her new layer of confidence, there was a tingle of apprehension that climbed up her spine, as the fear of being judged reasserted itself.

  She looked at Peter, who was passively, yet happily, looking at her. Her confidence grew again, as she contemplated her own figure. She was well proportioned, her figure resembling an hourglass. She had always been proud of her trim well-turned ankles and shapely calves.

  She loved the curve of her hips and the swell of her bottom that had attracted more than one wolf whistle from construction sites. It was her ample breasts that seemed to attract most men though. She had no need of silicone, her breasts were totally natural and they were still firm at 30. Sure, there were things she would change if she had a magic wand. She would wish away an inch or so from her upper thighs, maybe tighten and tone in the odd area, but there would be no going under the surgeon's knife for her.

  As Evelyn stood before Peter, she assessed her own looks, more critically than any partner would. She looked at Peter, trying to read his mind. What was he thinking? She felt more than a little self-conscious. It was like stripping away the therapy sessions and going bac
k to her days at school. She felt the weight of her nerves once more. Confidence ebbed and flowed, like breakers on the shore.

  She looked to Peter for reassurance. As she looked more deeply into Peter's eyes, she bathed in the warmth of his smile. She could plainly see now, that far from judging her, he looked more like he was about to eat her up. She wondered if he knew that she could see a flick of tongue as he licked his lips. He looked as if he planned to devourer her, and she hoped to God that he was going to do it soon.

  She became less self aware as she turned her attentions to him. She felt drawn to his handsomely rugged features. He looked impressively strong and she wondered how his body would feel pressed hard against her.

  Evelyn was hungry and she wanted Peter. The wait was making her feel impatient. The anticipation was torture, the tension building, making her want to scream, if only inside.

  Her eyes had been fixed on his intense gaze, and suddenly her attention switched back to herself. She was standing there like a schoolgirl. She found herself fidgeting, smoothing her skirt to remove the creases that didn't exist; she looked at herself fiddling with the buttons on her cuffs, then played with her hair nervously and smiled at him. Yet now, in a strange way, she was beginning to enjoy this feeling of unease. In fact, she found this to be a big part of this brand new experience.

  Her reflection was interrupted by Peter, “I like things a certain way, I hope you don't mind.” Peter was calm and sat still, totally relaxed with the situation, a smile playing across his lips, “I have a feeling that you and I are very compatible."

  "I hope so.” Evelyn felt the blood rush to her cheeks as her heart pumped madly. She looked into the eyes of this tall handsome man, trying to see into his mind. She was nervous, yet more excited by this, than she had ever been with any man before. She felt her nipples dilate and was sure Peter could see just how excited she was. Her eyes flickered for a moment to his trousers; there was no mistaking the bulge. She was pleased to have this effect on him.