Two Months of Writing Prompts: Day Fifteen
August 29, 2013 Leave a comment
Now, I don’t normally do this, but sometimes a writing prompt just fits with something I’m working on in story. This is one of those cases, so you get a little bit of a sneak peak *rough and unedited* into Vertigo because today’s prompt is: I found the strangest thing in my pocket. Since there’s nothing more to this prompt, I let it take me somewhere. Enjoy!
He was gone before I woke up. The rumpled sheets and teeth marks on my body were the only evidence he’d been here with me. I admit, I was disappointed. He hadn’t said whether or not he was pleased, nor did he allow me to see his face. Did that mean this was it?
I sighed and stretched my aching limbs. So much for getting back into the dating scene without a hitch. I slid from the bed and started to gather the velcro straps. Next, I picked up my scattered clothing from last night, which had managed to be flung in every direction. I panicked for a minute when I couldn’t find my underwear. The corset had draped itself over the headboard, my flimsy silk dress was below the window, and my stockings were hanging from a framed painting and tangled in the discarded comforter, respectively. I’d torn the bed apart twice before realizing that I hadn’t worn any.
Deflated, I gathered up my toiletries, my pen-camera, and pulled out my change of clothes. Shower be damned. I wanted out of the room. I’d take a shower at home where I could figure out how, or if I should message Draconis.
I pulled on the cotton sports bra and panties I’d packed in my suitcase, shrugged into a nice pink and black blouse, and wiggled into a pair of worn denim jeans, ignoring the bunched cloth in the pocket and slipped on some sandals.
I was out of the room, down the hall, and nearing the reception desk when I couldn’t stand my pocket any longer and shoved my hand in to straighten it. My fingers met with something firmer than the cloth of my pocket. I pulled it out and in my hand I found a green polyester dog collar with “training” written in black permanent marker by the buckle. I frowned at it. We only had one night, though we had been talking for a while. Still, a collar was a big deal I’d thought. Maybe the “training” meant he was still interested and wanted other Doms to know that I was being courted? Perhaps the cheep nature of it was as much symbolic of how temporary the relationship was. I decided to put it back in my pocket till I could talk to him more about it. Whatever he meant by it, the collar obviously meant this wasn’t over yet.