Copyright © 2006
Cupid stretched, his body waking up slowly as he yawned. Today
could languish in bed, enjoy a round of golf on the links – anything he
wanted. Today was his.
Everyone had it wrong thinking that his busiest day was Valentine’s
Day. That one day had been decreed by the Counsel as his day
off. The schedule was simple:
As he glanced around, still not knowing how the day would unfold, his
eyes scanned the bows hung neatly on the wall, quivers full of finely
crafted arrows tipped with the special arrowheads only he know how to
construct, a work bench along the far wall, his clean outfits neatly
hung on the rack. His two room cottage was small, yet spacious in
its own way. It fitted his needs perfectly.
- Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny worked outside of their home one
day a year,
- Father time covered New Year’s Eve,
- Uncle Sam worked only in the U.S. on the 4th of July
(at least since 1777),
- Jack Frost’s job was intermittent – he answered to Mother Nature,
- Leprechauns all over the world partied harder than usual on St.
Patty’s day, while Ghosts and Ghouls got All Hallows Eve,
- Punxsutawney Phil peeked out of his hole in Pennsylvania , USA on
Groundhog Day as cameras recorded his shadow or lack thereof,
- Turkeys prayed to be the single bird chosen each year and avoid
the ultimate fate as the center of a Thanksgiving feast, and
- The Tooth Fairy – 100% nighttime duty.
Cupid’s mind wandered distantly to his father, St. Valentine, who’d
been executed in A.D. 269. His mother had been the jailor’s
daughter who’d visited him while he had being held in
confinement. A long time had passed since he’d lost his parents;
he still missed them.
On to happier thought though – this was his day to do with as he
pleased. Another long slow stretch of his body accompanied by
another yawn. Maybe he’d just lounge in bed for a while; after
all, he didn’t get to sleep in that often.
Rolling over on his side, his slender muscular body relaxed. He
closed his eyes ready to grab a few more winks. He sighed.
A small noise in the other room caused his eyes to fly open and his
alertness to rise quickly. He listened intently. Maybe his
ears were playing tricks on him. No. There it was
again. A small moan accompanied by a shuffle of movement.
Someone was in his home!
Quietly getting out of bed, he removed a bow from the wall, retrieved
an arrow from a quiver and seated it. He drew back the bowstring,
the arrow pointing downward, and silently proceeded into the other
room, ready to bring the bow to eye level and fire.
He quickly scanned the exterior of the room, noting nothing out of the
ordinary. His eyes then came to rest on an object in the middle
of the room on the large oval rug. He relaxed his grip on the
bowstring and arrow, and leaned the bow and its striking partner
against the wall.
His eyes returned to the object. It was a female. Her dark
brown hair was braided and lay against her back. A black leather
blindfold covered her eyes. Her soft sensuous mouth was filled
with a red ball which had a thin black strip of leather running through
it, the ends neatly tied together behind her head. His eyes
continued over the kneeling figure, taking in every detail. Her
body was wrapped in red bondage tape, her breast area highlighted by
pink tape. Exposed pierced nipples were attached to a taunt thin
silver chain which ran to the ring of a stainless steel collar fastened
around her neck. (How had he missed that detail?) Her arms
were bound together behind her back, her palms seemingly attached to
the soles of her feet. His gaze resumed its downward
travel. The red tape continued over the slender body, wrapping
around her belly. Her legs were spread apart, a light shade of
pink caught his eye – the area between her legs was exposed. Her
legs were held in place as her captor had wrapped each thigh and calf
to its respective partner with more the red tape. His eyes also
observed the package was finished off with her ankles and feet wrapped
He signed softly, contently. The woman moaned and turned her head
in his direction. Who had brought this gift to him? No
matter. The day would definitely turn out far differently than he
could have conceived.