BLUE SUN ROOM FAN FICTION - GENERAL

NEWOLDBROWNCOAT

Got No Title
Sunday, February 22, 2009

This came to me complete, as-is. This is all there is. I make no claim of responsibility for my sub-conscious. Probably should be rated R, even though there isn't a PG word in it. It's all in your mind.


CATEGORY: FICTION    TIMES READ: 2452    RATING: 9    SERIES: FIREFLY

The big man was on his hands and knees on the bare floor, naked. His belt and holster were strapped on, but he could tell by the feel that the gun wasn't loaded, and there were no bullets in the belt loops.

The young woman was wearing a collection of black leather straps held together by silver studs. It matched her dark hair and made a contrast with her pale skin. It there had been more of it, and it had covered different areas of her body, areas currently uncovered, it might have been clothing. The whip she was carrying, though small, looked effective and painful.

She spoke. "You sold us out back there. Why did you do that?"

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did." She lashed him a couple of strokes. He could tell it wasn't going to do any real damage, but IT HURT.

"Ouch!. Arright, I did."

"Why?"

"I ain't proud of it. The money was too good. I got stupid. Real stupid."

She waited, twitching the whip gently. He looked up at her. She gave him a LOOK, one of her specialties, a look he had seen before, a look that screamed out, " DUMMY!"

He hesitated. "I--uh, I reckon I'm sorry--" The whip gave 2 quick strokes. "I am sorry, gorrammit! and I won't, uh, do it again--" A quick lash cut him off. "Ever. I promise."

"Forgiveness is good. You are given a chance to earn forgiveness."

He glanced up, a wicked grin forming on his face. There was a strange, dreamy look on her face, and she was looking at him to see if he got the hint. He crawled forward, mumbling about "never kissin' 'em on the mouth," then applied his lips, and tongue to her body. She continued to beat him, with increasing lack of effect. She began to whimper, then moan, then cried out and was silent. "Your turn, " she whispered. He reached up and gently pushed her over onto her back, then began to climb on top of her--

* * * * * *

Jayne woke, alone in his bunk and sweating profusely...

COMMENTS

Monday, February 23, 2009 1:42 AM

JANE0904


What, no comments? I loved this, if for nothing more than Jayne's warped and twisted dream-imagination, letting him know what he really wants. And as for the title ... how about STRIPES?

Monday, February 23, 2009 6:20 AM

ANGELLEMARCS


"A Dream is a wish your heart makes" LOL!!! Very fun.

Monday, February 23, 2009 8:20 AM

INSTANTKARMAGIRL


Yes, This was VERY nice indeed.

Jayne is a sick, sick man. I LOVE it

Monday, February 23, 2009 3:42 PM

ADMIRALIRONWING


Oh, the things that turn up in the dreams of Jayne.


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