Heather in Haven – Complete

September 26th, 2014

Heather in Haven is now complete. Because it has been a while since the excerpt of the first chapter was posted, I’ll give you a taste of the story with it …

Music filled Heather’s senses, a smooth sensual groove that twisted around her body and caressed her neck and ears. She walked through the crowded club, glancing at the patrons as they sat at their tables. The stage and the lithe creature that danced to the sultry music held their attention. She was thin, far more so than Heather thought possible for a woman. She twisted her body as she stood; feet shoulder width apart, wearing a short red skirt that flared at her thighs. Her torso was bare, save for a single ring piercing her navel. She wore a sport bra, the same deep red as her skirt, that covered her slight breasts. She tossed her short black hair back and forth as she moved her head in time to the music. She wore no shoes and, as she lifted her left leg, Heather could see how delicate and perfectly formed her foot was. The dancer pulled her foot around and up behind her back, leaned forward over her right leg, and slowly brought her back and left leg parallel to the stage.

Heather could not take her eyes off the dancer. The woman seemed to notice and glanced at Heather, giving her a quick wink before pulling her left foot forward. She brought her foot down onto the stage floor and planted her hands, bringing her right leg back and twisting her legs around into the air, allowing the skirt to fall to her waist and reveal the bare pink lips of her pussy. Heather’s instinct to look away was quelled as the dancer brought her legs out to either side in a split and arched her back, offering her and the patrons a clear view of the pink lips that twitched slightly as she flexed her pelvic muscles. She brought her head up and met Heather’s gaze once again. The dancer blew her a small kiss and brought both feet down in front of her shoulders and onto the stage. Slowly, fluidly, she pulled her arms back, bringing her body up in one smooth, effortless motion, until she stood erect once more.

Heather felt her breath shallow and quicken, and wished she had a chair to sit in. She felt the fluttering sensation at her belly button that signaled intrigue and arousal. Around her, the tables were filled with patrons, strange faces she did not feel comfortable approaching, especially with how aroused as she felt. She felt a flush move through her body as the dancer pulled one arm between her legs, her body following as she raised her left leg into the air, once again revealing those pink lips that twitched in time to the music.

With effort, Heather broke her gaze away from the dancer and looked around her. The dance floor was empty, but clear of places to sit as well. Along one wall, plush couches and chairs created a lounge for the dance floor, but a young man and his entourage of women occupied these. Across the club, patrons filled the tables all the way to the stairway that led up to the darkened balcony. Heather had been warned that this was off limits to visitors of the club, roped off and guarded by two bouncers.

Except tonight, it seemed.

Tonight, the velvet rope hung limply to one side of the stairway and the foretold bouncers were gone. Heather made her way between the tables, ignored by the patrons who still watched the dancer with the same intensity she felt. Heather stopped at the entrance to the stairway and looked around. She had been told that the balcony was solely for the use of the club’s owner, an elusive Domme who rarely graced the club floor with her presence. Heather touched the mahogany handrail and frowned. She supposed her friend could have made it up, perhaps dreaming up the entire thing to explain a temporary closure of the area. That Heather had been abandoned in this club was enough to call any story about it into question.

“I’ll see you at the club at ten,” Olivia had told her as they walked to their respective vehicles after work. “I’ll meet you in the front lounge.” Olivia had handed Heather an invitation, a simple business card with the silhouette of a dancing woman on one side and “Haven” in bold black lettering on the other. No address. No website. The recipient of this invitation was expected to know where to go.

When Heather arrived, she found a line of people wrapping around the building and into the side alley. She was relieved when the bouncer recognized the invitation and ushered her in. She also did not miss the glares she received from those waiting outside. Many of them, she learned, stood in line every weekend, waiting in vain for a chance invitation. This was Heather’s first time.

Olivia was nowhere to be found. Heather had waited in the front lounge for a half an hour before deciding to explore the club for herself. She did not want to imagine the glares or jeers if she dared to leave so soon.

Heather glanced around one more time to see if anyone took notice of her at the balcony entrance. The bouncer on this side of the club floor, who moved his head in a slow, steady motion from left to right, then right to left, took no note of her. No patrons offered her polite warning glances. Satisfied at this tacit permission, she walked slowly up the dark stairway to the balcony above.

A plush maroon seat lined the wall to her left and wrapped around into the dark corner ahead of her. The lighting here was very dim, but it did not appear that anyone else was up here. To her right, short cocktail tables lined the balcony railing, affording her a small pathway to walk. Heather noticed that from here, she could see over the entire club and its patrons and had a perfect view of the dance stage and its contortionist performer.

Heather walked forward slowly, looking for a good place to sit, unnoticed by the patrons below but with a good view of the stage. As she walked, she reached out her left hand to touch the plush backing of the seat. The satin velveteen material was inviting, and she stopped to press her hand into it, relishing the cool surface and warm softness.

“It’s about time you came up,” a woman’s voice, smooth, light, and stern, spoke from the darkness of the corner.

Heather gasped and withdrew her hand as if slapped. She turned and peered into the shadowed corner ahead of her, trying to pull a form from the darkness there. Slowly the thin silhouette of a woman formed and walked forward. She was fair skinned with long black hair draped over one shoulder. Dark eyes, set above thin, rounded cheekbones, gazed back at Heather with amusement and something else, something that made Heather’s stomach tighten in anticipation. The woman wore a tight black sleeveless dress that hugged her ample breasts and thin torso and flared out as it trailed to the floor. The front was slit open, revealing her thin legs and long, black, thigh-high boots. Heather followed the boots up, but she walked with small steps, one foot in front of the other, and kept the skirt from opening above the meeting of her thighs.

Heather looked back to the face of the woman as she stopped a couple of feet in front of her. The dark eyes continued to study Heather, tracing the shape of her face and body. Finally, the woman smiled.

“Olivia said you were shy, but not terrified. Do you think I’m going to bite you?”

Heather traced the curves of the woman’s thin lips and let out a small sigh. If God is good.

Purchase it on StreetWraith Press.

One Response to “Heather in Haven – Complete”

  1. [...] Heather in Haven, Heather and Mistress Victoria have a very quick discussion of limits. In a real, healthy BDSM [...]

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