|Blogs > unleashedwildkat > Writing Naked in the Dark|
Slap me! he said. A gray haired fifty something, John Deere hat wearing, pot-bellied man stood beside me at the beach bar. I took a sip of Yuenling Lager and look at him a second or two and then slapped his grizzley chubby cheek. He grinned as the loud sound of skin making contact with skin echoed in the darkness of the scummy bar.
"Do it again," he pleaded with a hungry gleam in his eye. This is not my thing, I don't enjoy slapping strange men in bars. But I do enjoy pleasing people. So I am happy to make him happy in such a simple way. I don't quite understand it but hey what ever floats your boat. Pain holds no pleasure for me. But it is very evident that it does for this redneck country boy. So I slapped him again. And again.
I should have had a clue, back a month ago he wanted me to bite his arm. I thought he was just kidding, but I bit him anyway. Hard enough to leave marks on his arm all night. Oh my god! What next?