Midnight Ep. 004: GOSSAMER

(This series is a collaboration with my good friend Sanchez. His ideas, I ran with it. We will see how it evolves. He has a sound concept, and characters, I'm primarily piecing it all together and seeing how it plays out. We hope you enjoy our efforts.)

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MIDNIGHT Episode 004: GOSSAMER

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"Clam chowder for table two is up Midnight!"

Naomi Walker, soon to be Culpepper, a fellow waitress reminded the girl who appeared lost in her job the last two hours. Unresponsive Naomi slapped the girl's ass hoping that might lure her back to reality. What it did though was make Midnight moan a soft unexpected thank you by arching her back as if hoping for another. Naomi narrowed her eyes at her co-worker, "What's gotten into you lately? First you let those Tuna Boat Bastard's paw you up yesterday, now you act like you want me to paddle your bottom."

"Just...being silly." Midnight Amador attempted to talk her way out of any real answer.

"No, you weren't! Soon as business slows down you and I are having a no nonsense talk Critter." The 35-year-old waitress knew better. She had kids of her own at home, she knew lovesick when she saw it. Or at least a worthy fancy.

"I have a..." She almost said date but slowed down, "...meeting tonight."

"Surely not AA! You don't drink. What kind of meeting?"

"Someone." Her soft-spoken voice led to an unblinking stare. Her gaze almost hoping Naomi might read her mind. The longer they glared at one another it dawned on Naomi who reacted with awe, then worry.

"That fella yesterday in black? Tats all up and down his arms? Isn't he a tad old for you? He's my age or older."

"Does it matter? Age?" The raven-haired beauty let her eyes seek answers, sparkling orbs with so much curiosity it was almost a childlike sympathy ploy.

"Well...no! I guess not, but sweetie...you're an angel. I see Satan in that guy." She sighs loudly, "Maybe not Satan, but surely a protégé."

"He was nice."

"He didn't lift a pinky to defend you against Pete Barstow's mitts. A real man would have stood up to them." She hadn't heard Nick Sanchez share a threat when Pete had pushed his limits. That was for men's ears alone. "It almost looked as if you...wanted them to feel you up." Shrugging shyly Midnight slipped past Naomi and claimed the clam chowder taking it to table two. Naomi still expressing awe in a more loitering manner watched Midnight deliver the bowl then keep her distance. "She did. I better keep my eyes on this girl."

********

Five miles down the road...

Nick Sanchez spent the remainder of his afternoon brooding. He hoped that he might get a call back from Tilly Cooper over speaking with the bank about the foreclosed-on property and his counteroffer. With no reply in the last three hours, he dove into his daily workout just to occupy his mind, nude to feel comfortable, he enjoyed his privacy. Swatting and slapping at a Wushu Wing Chun practice dummy that his buddy Marcus had on hand in his beach house gym kept his physical process at peak performance. After a good thirty-minute workout he took a breather and grabbed a bottle of water to hydrate against the Carolina heat.

From there he did chin ups in a door threshold amounting to 100 repetitions, Nick Sanchez was hardly a lazy man. Ending that dedicated pleasure, he took another breather to get some air, stepping back out to the back deck to take in the ocean. Crisp clean air filling his lungs he chose down time. Going back indoors he sat at a circular dining table with his journal and as every day wrote what was on his mind. After getting a good look at the island home Harbinger Shoals he opted to design rooms in his mind, then simple drawings on the blank pages in the back of the book. From there he jotted down a list of needed items to fix and complement its refurbishing, that is what he was aware of. This was going to be a big project, hiring locals seemed smart but at the same time he preferred his privacy. Letting too many people know his business and how he lived would not serve him well.

"Six!" He decided upon. "I'll hire six professional carpenters, no more. They do it all or I finish it myself." That decided he began making small sketches into a secondary art pad for interpretations of each individual room. "I'll need an electrician too. Someone who knows more than just wiring." That meant a seventh employee. "Guess I start getting recommendations from locals." That could wait until he was certain his offer would be accepted. Being vacant so long he was pretty certain the bank wanted to unload the burden. Yet, it was prime real estate with the ocean behind the property. Even he was shocked it was going unnoticed. Perfect in his mind. Their loss his Empire.

Drawn back to his journals over abundant pages and the BDSM drawings within, he paused upon a number of designs for torture and submission. Fascinated by the visuals he had sketched from photographs he had seen in both magazines, videos, and finally in person. Having tracked down a club in New York specializing in the darker side of human slavery, the respect he sought was tantalizing. He however wanted to be his own Lord of the Manor...his way. This move in his mind was only the beginning.

"Midnight!" It was just a word. A point in time. When it was right. When...she was right. Perhaps!

********

"1.8 million?" Banker Lowell Hardwick sat back facing Matilda and Sheldon Cooper within the local branch of Santee Federal, a small outlet that rarely did more than cash checks and finance car loans. Home loans were not their specialty but what few they had in foreclosure kept them in business small scale. "That's a heck of a drop in what it's worth Tilly."

"How long do you plan on sitting on that property Lowell?" Sheldon cut in on his wife then apologized with a hand gesture.

"What he said." She scowled. "Unload it while you can Lowell. You need the money as much as we do. If Mister Sanchez thinks he can rescue that dump let him try. This is a cash sale, not a loan. How often does that kind of offer come along here in Caretaker? That chunk of change can tide us all over for six months. I don't know about you, but I could use a vacation."

"You're right Tilly. Should we at least counteroffer at 2 mil?"

"Take it or leave it said." Tilly posed her palm defensively. "We're talking about a man that killed a six-foot coral snake with a machete. Do you truly believe he won't walk away?"

"He really did that?" Sheldon looked shocked.

"Threw it on the hood of his vehicle and drove me back to the diner where we met. I should have taken a picture, but I was just happy to see friendly faces. The man is...dark."

"Dark?"

"A soldier he said. A pilot as well."

"Wonderful we have us a disgruntled vet for a neighbor." Sheldon scowled folding his hands over his portly belly.

"A very rich disgruntled vet it appears." Lowell sighed, "Do you feel he's a threat to the community Tilly?"

Mulling it over she shrugs, "He appears respectful, and he did mention hiring locals to restore the place, which helps our economy. Obviously, he has to purchase lumber, and other building needs. I say take the 1.8 and cross our fingers."

"Alright! Have him bring me a check I'll dust off the deed. He can have that hellhole."

"I'll call him from our car. Thank you, Lowell."

"Tell him to leave the snake outside the bank."

"What? No thank you gift?" She smirked.

"I'll give him a toaster if he opens a checking account."

"I'm sure he will love the gesture." Tilly and her husband got up and shook Lowell's hand before leaving the bank. Getting into Sheldon's restored 1967 Corvette Stingray convertible Sheldon looks to his wife grinning at their financial gain.

"Is this where I say Bazinga?"

"Don't start Sheldon." She had to giggle.

********

Coastal Waiter's diner by the big blue sea...

"Finally! The lunch rush is over..." Naomi kicked her heels off and threw herself into a booth to stretch out. "Sit with me Sweetie. That's an order." Midnight clearing the table next to her fidgeted and did as she was told. It seemed like the right thing to do. Saying no was barely in her vocabulary. Joining Naomi for a breather became tense, words seeking vocalization but trying to conclude how best to speak to them. Sighing Naomi just reached over the table and patted Midnight's hand, "Fill me in Sweetheart. You know you can talk to me about anything."

"About what?"

"That whole touching you, thing."

"You are touching me."

"Your hand not your bare bottom." Naomi scowled at the difference.

"You slapped it earlier."

"Outside your skirt. This isn't about me Midnight. What's going on with you and letting Pete and his dumbass crew abuse you like they did. You...into that kind of thing?'

"It doesn't bother me."

"How do you not have a man, Miss Amador?"

"I guess I'm not what they want."

"I think Pete and his boys wanted you, or they wouldn't have gotten so handsy."

"Still here." Midnight softly spoke.

"You and that Man in Black. Nick, I believe his name was? Are you...getting a crush on him?"

"No. I only waited on him. I would do it again."

"This appears to be more than just waiting on the guy Midnight. Please...talk to me."

"I... just take his order."

"You exhaust me Critter. If that man hurts, you, I'll be breaking out Dalton's shotgun and going after him."

"It won't come to that."

"You're so sure?"

"I've been hurt my entire life. I'm tough." She wanted to say try living with my father, but respectfully held her tongue.

"No... you're a soft soul Midnight. Half the time you whisper. The other half you're dead silent."

"Just shy."

"Toward me? We've worked together a year now. You know I adore you Critter."

"I adore you as well."

"Alright!" Naomi slaps her palms on the table lightly giving up, "You do your thing... just know I'm here for you if you need me."

"I know. It's getting late, I need to clear my tables and help wash dishes."

"Go on. I'll watch the counter and clean the tabletops. Fill the condiments." She lets Midnight slip away and do her job. Naomi just couldn't shake the fear that the girl was out of her league. The next two hours led to six customers, more dishes, and a clock ticking slowly by.

********

"Mister Sanchez?"

Resting on the sink next to him Nick answered his ringing cell after a soothing shower. Dripping wet he recognized the voice. "Matilda!"

"You are now the proud owner of a 1.8-million-dollar islet."

"Bank agreed? Perfect! I'll give you a bonus for serving my needs."

"I assisted you in your goal. Serving your needs sounds...like something my husband requires." She winks at Sheldon behind the steering wheel of their car. "Bring a check to Santee Federal tomorrow morning, ask for Lowell Hardwick, he's the loan officer and President of the Bank. It opens at 9:00 AM. He said he would have your deed ready upon cashier's check."

"I'll wire it in. While I have you on the phone, would you have any references as to who I might retain for Carpentry? Electrical experience?"

"Niles Gullivant built our home, he's a master at woodworking. Electrical and landscaping I'll look around for you and give you a call back. Would you like Mister Gullivant's number?"

"Stepping out of the shower, close your eyes." He mentioned as if making a joke, "Let me grab a pen and paper." Tilly envisioned him nude suddenly and turned away from Sheldon to hide her grin, peering out the passenger side while waiting. It dawned on her that she did need to look his number up on her phone. To her left Sheldon beat her to it clearing his throat and sharing it from his contact list. "Ready when you are." Nick growled. Tilly felt a sudden dampness between her legs, strangely thinking, "What an intriguing offer."

"His number is 843-555-6996. Again, his name is Niles Gullivant."

"Appreciate it! I'll drop by your Realty office with a bonus check after I get my deed."

"Wonderful! We open at 10:00 AM."

"See you before noon." Nick hung up without saying goodbye. Tilly was almost sad to let him go. A pat to Sheldon's knee led to a, "Honey? Let's celebrate."

"Wine and dine?"

"After..." She flirted.

"Ohhh? Frisky!" He started the car, and they headed home. It had been a while for both of them. "I like your style Mrs. Cooper."

"That includes doggy...not the bag."

"You got it!"

He got it too.

********

Sunset closing in Midnight Amador found herself drawn to the windows overlooking the pier below, the beach being empty felt lonely like her soul. With her shift almost over she was becoming increasingly nervous, she wanted to be what Nick seemed to be grooming her for. Yet, she herself wasn't completely understanding what it was. She only had a single picture on a note of a nude woman on her knees, a woman that curiously looked a bit like her. She prayed she wasn't reading into the sketch the wrong way. Although earlier in the day he did coax her into showing off her breasts as he sat outside the window to the front of the diner. He seemed...pleased. Hopefully he would continue to be pleased with her.

This being all new to her yet reflecting back to her rape at age 16, her raspy intruder yelling at her by saying, "ON YOUR KNEES!" That command stuck with her all this time, as if...a calling. Perhaps even in the assailant's savage fucking of her in the weeds along the dark sand road near her home felt...right! She didn't know any better. Right from wrong was cloudy. What she did know was even afterwards she hoped he might return. Thus, she did not report it. Thankfully, she did not get pregnant.

Three years later she met Nick Sanchez, a mystery, yet an omen, be he good or bad. Her heart almost hoped he might be her past attacker. Knowing he was not by voice alone, almost made her sad. Still, the type was what attracted her spirit. Perhaps this was why boys did not chase her, they were too immature, not nearly aggressive enough to spark her imagination. To this day only that night was all she had, her bizarre comfort zone. Only two barked commands, "ON YOUR KNEES!" and "I OWN THESE HOLES!" A delight to be heard but not followed through with. She still walked that dark road fearing her home more than the darkness itself. Maybe she was fucked up. Maybe she was holding her breath. Maybe Midnight...maybe at midnight. Her name spoke to her more often than not.

"You can go Sweetie. I'll finish up." Naomi startled her.

"Okay! See you tomorrow." She grabs her bag and her divided tips, set aside by Naomi. Leaving the front of the diner she peers back to see if she were being watched. Finding no eyes upon her she slips around the side of the diner and took the sand path down to the beach. At the base of the hill, she sat her bag in some weeds to hide it, again searching the area for prying eyes before undressing. Her shoes off, bobby socks followed.

Yet another inspection of her surroundings, including the partially obscured diner, she takes off her uniform and folds it neatly, placing it inside her bag, exchanging it for her see through dress. Her...veil more aptly described. A breeze launched over her almost tugging at her body, nipples reacting by reaching their full potential. Pussy wet she closed her eyes and stood nude without the dress feeling the momentary freedom. Generous though it was, the dress would be what little prison it was designed to be. Merely, a pale comparison to her flesh beneath she put it on, tying it about her waist with a sash made of the curtains, keeping it in the family. Hood added she drew it over her hair and smiled. It was time to take a walk.

Risking bare feet, she strolled the beach until entering the cusp of the pier. Looking out over blue sky with the falling sun at her back she took one step at a time, hearing the waves creaking the decades old pier. With the Man in Black nowhere in sight she pouted but stayed on course to the very end of the pier before a rail halted her step. Wind whipping at her hood she held it tightly to keep it on her long raven tress. Alone, silent save for the shrill sounds of gulls settling in for the night. Peace!

For ten minutes she stood peering out to sea like a sailor wondering if the world was really square. The unknown drop-off just over the horizon expected at any minute. Not even a sigh escaped her lips. No words. Her eyes wide and hopeful. Something was coming, her heart felt a resuscitation from its waver. He was near, she just knew it. Afraid to turn around she remained vigil. Calm before the storm.

To her left a fish flew skyward and over the pier's rail, landing on the planks with a thud. She could have screamed but resisted. While shock was within her realm so was a fearless nature. Finally, opting to turn and face the dancing Red Drum, observing its zest for life. While exploring its relentless fight she heard a creaking behind her and froze, knowing something larger was behind her.

"Is that you floundering? Gasping for life? Fighting to survive?"

"Yes." She spoke without facing him. It was obvious to her that the Man in Black had emerged from below the pier, having gone fishing by hand perhaps. It made her eyes flare knowing that he too was fearless, dominating, taking what he wanted, capturing it knowing its life was in his grasp.

"Do I throw her back? Or keep it?"

"That is your decision." She mumbled.

"Louder."

"THAT IS YOUR DECISION."

"Too loud!"

"Sorry!"

"You have an amazing body."

"Do I?"

"You know you do; you just choose to feel you don't."

"I am nothing special."

"You're right! You never will be. Does that matter?"

"No."

"The scholars say life sprang from the sea. I tend to believe that. Let the strong survive they say."

"They must. Those that are not...fall." She drops slowly to her knees, her back to him.

"That would likely be their first reaction. Is that a curtain?"

"Caretaker does not have much to pick from. I made the dress. Have I... failed you?"

"Not yet! Ingenuity keeps you afloat." He plucks the fish up from the pier and hurls it back into the water. Saved by the hand that took it from its world and thrust it into another.

"I did not want to fail you."

"I said not yet. There's still time." She remains silent as he circles her slowly, her eyes refusing to meet his. "Forget something?"

"Did I?" She nearly shed a tear in that moment.

"You didn't shave."

Huffing loudly, she whimpers, "I... forgot."

"On your back...or I throw you back like that fish." He instructs. The second he finished his command she dropped backwards and lay flat on the planks as if the fish. "Legs wide." Parting her legs, she trembled at his approach. Afraid to look up at him she feels him kneel between her legs and touch her with something cold. "If you move you have no one to blame but yourself."

"I won't move."

Feeling his left palm on her belly she feels the cold abandon her. Suddenly a scraping sensation graces her thighs. He was shaving her pubes with a hunting knife. Awe setting in she froze, even her lungs afraid to inhale, for having to exhale. Tenderly, his razor-sharp blade eliminated the majority of her thick bush. There was no silky smoothness, but it was better. Once done to his satisfaction he stabs the tip of the blade between her legs a mere inch from her pussy, the edge of the knife facing her. "Which would hurt more? The blade or my leaving you to your life?"

"If you leave, I might as well use the blade to end my life."

"Suicidal?"

"No. I... have no life as it is."

"No purpose?"

"None! I... exist. That is all."

"Virgin?"

"No." She swallowed dryly.

"So much for being a sacrifice." He attempted to make her laugh; she did no such thing. "Pussy looks really wet from here."