This story was the first posted at Pink Chair Diaries.The rules for the stories was just that they needed to feature a bright pink blow up plastic chair with a dildo fastened in the middle of the seat.
PCD is down as I write this and while I’m sure they’ll get back up and running, in the meantime, here’s Ryan and Jason.
Jason froze just inside of the doorway. What the hell?
The door clicked shut behind him.
Ahead of him, Ryan entered the narrow room and tossed his backpack onto the bed against the wall on the right. He spun to sit heavily next to it, immediately turning to open the mini-refrigerator that doubled as a nightstand. He took out a Coke. “You want one? Hey, what’s wrong?”
Jason blinked at him, then blinked back at… it. “What’s that?”
Ryan glanced at the thing sitting between the bed and the desk, then grinned. “A chair.”
“It’s pink.”
Ryan opened the can. “Yeah.”
“It’s got a…” Jason swallowed. “Is that what I think it is?”
The powers that be at MLR Press asked for it and I, weak as I am, agreed to do a sequel to About Something.
BLURB:
Turns out life as a drag queen isn’t what Shawn thought it would be. He loves the costumes and dressing up, but he’s found he’s better suited to performing from a script than vamping onstage. Too bad Shawn figured this out long after breaking up with Roscoe when his bossy director boyfriend told him he didn’t have what it would take.
Two years later, Shawn may not be wildly happy but he’s content. That is until Roscoe shows up to ask him to reprise his role as Beatrice in Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing. Roscoe is as magnetic as he’s always been and the spark between them is still burning bright.
When Roscoe turns on the charm for a more personal reunion, can Shawn resist? Does he even want to?
Roscoe folded his forearms on the bar before him, one of his elbows brushing Shawn’s. “It’s a paying gig. Equity. You could get your card.”
“Aha.” Shawn took a sip of his drink, keeping his eyes on the bar. “I get it.”
“Get what?”
“Why are you showing up, out of the blue, with an offer?”
Some of their audience had drifted away, but Shawn had no doubt those who remained would spread the word.
Didn’t seem like Roscoe cared who heard. “I told you. I need you. Play’s not the same without you.”
“Why that play?”
“I like that play.”
“You going to call Bonnie in California to come play Benedick?”
When there was no answer, he slanted his gaze at the other man.
Roscoe stared at the array of bottles on the mirrored wall behind the bar. He shook his head, not smiling now. “No.”
“What? You don’t think she did great?”
“I do, and you know it.”
“Right.” He took a healthy drink then carefully set his glass down. “But you weren’t sleeping with her.”
Ever aware of his performance, on and off stage, Roscoe gave it a beat, turned to face Shawn then sat back, putting some distance between them. “My offer is sincere, regardless of our past.”
Poor Nera. Quite a status she’s been given, but has the sharif made her life better or worse?
WARNING: graphic sex, lighter non-con and a little bit of m/m
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Ryun led the way back to his rooms, Aiden following with Nera bundled underneath his arm. No one spoke and Nera suspected Ryun’s angry presence was what cut a swath through the people in the corridors.
Miyn was there when they entered but wisely stayed silent and melted aside as Ryun stormed through the door. As he angrily yanked off his jerkin and boots, Aiden led Nera to sit on the wide bed. Aiden remained quiet and wouldn’t meet her gaze as he slid the cloak from her shoulders. He did reach up to smooth her loose hair and gave her a small, sympathetic pat on the shoulder as he rose and turned to face his master.
Now that Scarn’s shaken things up, what’s Ryun to do? Find out how their father reacts.
WARNINGS: non-con
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It was the first time Nera was alone — or, at least, aware of it — since her capture. She pressed her forehead to the raised arm of the couch and clutched her fingers to either side of her head. The tears stopped after only a short time, leaving behind an emptiness. Her body ached in new places but she couldn’t believe it was anything serious. She’d survive, in body if not in soul.
Why was this happening to her? Why had Buir forsaken her? Or had Buir been attacked by the gods of the sharif?
She was still kneeling on the couch when they arrived. Huddled under the cloak, she peeked up to see Miyn rush in followed by Aiden in a great sweep of light gray robes.
Aiden fell to his knees at her side, the sleeves of his robe falling back on his pale forearms as he reached to cup her jaw. She might have flinched but his striking beauty worked as a balm to her nerves. For some reason, he calmed her despite the worry lines that marred the fine arch of her brows. She saw obvious concern in his narrowed green eyes. “Nera, are you all right?” Continue reading Nera and the Prince – 6→
At long last, she continues! Please forgive if I get some details wrong between this episode and the last. It’s been two years after all. I’m still writing mostly stream of conscious, with only a vague idea of where it’s going. I’m not sure if it’s what people have expected but this is pretty much the direction I’d originally intended. Sorry it took me so long.
Still keeping the non-con warning on this one. Because it gets worse.
Also, still no one editing this one but me so any mistakes you see I can only ask you to overlook.
Nera woke alone. The heated male presence that had exhausted her the day and night previous was gone. She could not pretend it was just a dream because the gold silk sheets and plush, soft pillows that she saw when she opened her eyes could not have been in her cell a the temple.
She closed her eyes and buried her face in the pillow, willing herself to be elsewhere or, if that were impossible, to die. The attack on the temple had come in the wee hours of the morning. The men hired to defend the sacred temple of Buir had fallen quickly to the attackers. By mid-morning, Nera and her sister priestesses had all been trussed up and hauled off to the neighboring country. It had taken two days of travel, during which she and her fellow prisoners were released once in the early afternoon and once just after dusk for eating and calls of nature. They had arrived at the sumptuous palace and they’d known a life of slavery was ahead of them.
They’d all figured Jen could handle it. None of them had intended to change their friendship or turn it into anything long-term. Just friends having fun. Then Ken had thrown a wrench into the works. Or, as he claimed, Jen had mucked it up by sleeping with Jason, Bart, and Davey but refusing to sleep with him. Jason had to admit that would have ticked him off too. Looking back on the one night when the five of them had been together, Ken was the only one who hadn’t done more than kiss Jen. Of course, she’d stayed the night with him when the rest of them had gone home. That was the night Ken had seen the proverbial light and asked Jen to marry him. Jason was happy for them. He was. Looking at them now, he wondered why no one had seen that they were meant for each other before.
