By Mina Burrows
“Kill the beast!”
A savage cry bellowed from the amassed crowd, followed by a surge of approving screams.
The group’s leader, a domineering hunk, approached center stage. His voice boomed across the sea of onlookers, “Silence!”
The crowd simmered as the speaker summoned the beast on stage. The beast was massive, excessively pale, and bare-chested with a nipple ring. His head covered with a burlap sack – a seemingly better alternative to his face. His black pants were ordinary except for a slit in the back, allowing for the beast’s winding tail.
Flanked with two beefy guards, the beast jerked ferociously, his tail whipping in defiance.
A busty beauty called out.
“Let me have it,” she cried. “I want that bloody tail.”
The leader's eyes honed in on the woman. She wore a tight crimson ensemble, revealing breasts begging to be touched. Lust assaulted him and he sneered a reply, “That can be arranged.”
The woman winked at him, silently agreeing to his demands, her desire increasing tenfold. The leader waved her on stage and she hurried in response, her matching Gucci shoes clicked in tandem.
The leader grunted at her enthusiasm, while the crowd roared.
The beast stilled, sensing her presence.
“I know who you are,” the beast growled, unable to see her face.
The red seductress laughed, unsheathing her dagger. The knife gleamed against the harsh lighting, making the crowd go wild.
She snatched the tail, her brain engrossed in her task. As she readied her knife, she felt a nudge on her shoulder.
She ignored it, lost in her salacious mind.
“Sweetheart!” The tap turned into push. “Can you hear me?”
The distant voice finally pulled Delia, the day dreaming housewife, out of her musings.
“What?” She glanced at her husband in surprise.
“You’re day dreaming again,” her hubby replied.
Delia grinned. “Only about you, you beast…I mean, sweetie.”
Until next time…read a little, write a little. Yeah, that’s my thing.
Copyright 2010 by Mina Burrows.
All rights reserved.