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Sunday, December 5, 2010

Countdown to Christmas: DC Juris

DC Juris says: My favorite thing about the holidays is my sister's annual week-long visit. She actually comes for Thanksgiving, but we celebrate Christmas then, too. It's usually the only time of year we get to see each other. We try to find a new local attraction to see every year, and we go to a couple drag shows, as well as hitting all the local thrift stores. We go shopping all day on Black Friday, which is the only day of the year I set foot in a mall (I worked in retail for 7 years - been there, done that!). Then on that Saturday, we put up the Christmas tree, hang all the decorations, and exchange gifts.

"Finding Sanctuary"

Vincent is a typical, average guy who has begun to unravel. He has a respectable, mainstream life, with a solid job, nice girlfriend, comfortable house—all the material trappings. What, then, is causing this restlessness, these blackouts? The first revelation is that his best friend Eric is also his heart’s desire. But then Eric invites him to a weekend at a BDSM playhouse ... There Vincent will confront his fears and test the limits of his sexual boundaries. Eric has his needs, too—needs that conflict with Vincent’s. Will their fragile new bond survive the weekend?
Will Vincent find the sanctuary he so fervently desires?


Eric stood, reached out, and laid a hand on Vincent’s arm. “Don’t go. Talk to me. Help me understand what’s going on with you.”

“I don’t understand it,” Vincent whispered. That touch. Electric.

“Maybe I can help.” Eric’s hand moved, traveled up and down his arm. “Please. Let me help.”

Let me help. Vincent’s stomach knotted, tears stung his eyes. He was falling quite thoroughly apart.

“Easy,” Eric stepped closer, no hesitation in his movement. “I’m not trying to upset you. Please know that.”

“I know.”

Eric gazed at him, eyes big and round, full of sorrow and compassion. “Tell me what to do.”

“Help.” He didn’t know why he said it. Just that he hurt inside, and he wanted it to stop. Wanted something to fill up the hollow void in his chest that throbbed and pulsed.

“Come here.” Eric’s arms slid around his waist, pulled him close. Vincent leaned in. Eric’s body felt warm and strong. For a moment, Vincent panicked. Being in another man’s arms was not right, no matter how good it felt. His father had taught him that, taught him well. Ingrained childhood lessons forced him to struggle, though it was only a token effort.

“Shhh.” Eric didn’t let go and Vincent was grateful for that. So grateful. More than he could express.

Vincent shuddered, feeling like a wounded animal—knowing the hand that offered help would heal him, but terrified to take it. Terrified to let it get close. And he realized with clarity that he did not fear Eric, only what Eric represented. The unknown. New territory. Frighteningly intense territory. Vincent didn’t know if he had the strength for it.

“Sit down with me.” Eric maneuvered them both back to the couch and pulled Vincent next to him, urging Vincent’s head down into his lap. Keeping one arm around Vincent’s chest, Eric stroked Vincent’s hair with his other hand.

“I’m going insane,” Vincent mumbled.

Eric laughed softly. “No, you’re not. You’re just going through some changes. Trying to figure some things out.”

They sat in silence, Eric petting Vincent and Vincent letting himself be soothed by the action and the notion that Eric wanted to help him. “I want to be beaten.”



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