Mia's Journey: An Erotic Thriller (10 page)

“Follow your bliss and the universe will open

doors where there were only walls.”

Joseph Campbell

Chapter 27

They lay together on the cum soaked sheets. Daddy still hadn’t gotten off, and didn’t seem to care. Mia reached down, but his cock was limp.

“Do you want me to get you off, Daddy?”

“I did, through you. I got off when you did.”

Occasionally, Daddy would reach between her legs, get some cum, bring it up to his mouth, then smear it on her lips as well. Mia was also starting to like the taste of her cum and would start sucking his fingers. It was slightly salty, but not unpleasant at all. It tasted like…an old friend.

“After you get off, or after masturbating, scoop out your own cum and taste it. It’s delicious.”

“Daddy, you are so, so, gross, sometimes,” said Mia. “You really like it, don’t you?”

“Like nectar from the Gods.”

“Daddy! You always say that,” elbowing him in the ribs.

“Because it was always true. That is what it tastes like to me.”

“No really, what did it taste like?”

She could feel a big smile on Daddy’s face.

“You know what I mean!” Another elbow.

“I don’t really know. It is sort of beyond taste, or I don’t notice any taste when I’m doing it. It doesn’t ‘taste,’ it feels. I’m kind of wrapped up in it too, you know.”

Mia giggled. “Daddy, you are so weird, sometimes.”

“Am I?”

“Yes. Definitely.”

Long silence. Total peace. They lay all over each other. Mia wrapped herself around him, entwining herself around his legs, holding him tight.

“Daddy? I went somewhere.”

“I know.”

“Where was it?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you know?”

“Like I said, just that it exists. Isn’t that enough?”

“WHAT is it?”

“I don’t know for sure. However, I think it is where you came from. It is your origin. It is the place of your creation, before birth. It is the truth of everything. I think it also might be where you go when you die. But I don’t know.”

“It’s beautiful. It’s beyond words.”

“Ohhhhhh, yeah. I can also tell you, you will be forever changed. You will spend the rest of your life, searching, trying to find a way back to it.”

“Can I go back?”

“Yes, some people live there. Buddha called it ‘bliss’ or the State of Nirvana. Other religions call it other things. All religions speak of it. I think maybe sex is a pathway to it, or a road of some sort. But through the extreme pleasure of sex, you can touch it, or glimpse it.”

“How do you find it?”

“Again, I don’t know. I’m looking for my way back myself. What I know is that it has something to do with living your life completely in truth. That your entire life, and maybe hundreds of lives, are designed to lead you to this truth.

Understanding that this IS YOU, you are a part of it, it is a part of you. It is infinite love and creation. This is what your soul, in perfection, looks like. I think also, that if you do find your way back to it, and you’re able to stay there, you will vanish out of this world.”

“You mean die?”

“No, I don’t think so. I don’t think there IS such a thing as death. Only more creation in another form. I think maybe you are allowed to create art in a universal form, because you really are, a creator. Or maybe, you are the art you create.”

“You mean like God.”

“No. I don’t like the word. It is so misleading. God is some old guy with a white beard, sitting upon a throne, scowling in judgment, throwing lightning bolts at sinners and casting them into hell for eternity because they masturbate. As you can see, it’s not like that.”

“Well, when you put it like that…it does seem sort of silly.”

“It’s worse than silly…it’s a lie. It leads you away from the truth, not towards it.”

“We’re adulterers, Daddy.”

“Yes, we are.”

“I’m married, so are you.”

“Does it feel like you betrayed anyone?”

No answer. Long silence, total peace, then…

“I’m tired Daddy. Will you hold me really tight, and never let me go?”

“I’m gonna try, Baby Doll. I’m gonna try.”

Mia’s head was resting on Daddy’s chest. One of her legs was wrapped around his.

“Daddy?”

“Yes sweetie?”

“Why do you say you love me?”

“What do you mean?”

Mia lifted her head to look up at Daddy. Her eyes were very serious, but she could tell that he was looking at her with humor.

“Daddy, you barely know me. You don’t even know all the bad things I have done before I met you. How can you love me?”

“Baby Doll, I don’t need to know your past. I know your soul. You are good. You are mine.”

Mia rubbed her nose through his chest hair. “But Daddy, how do you KNOW you love me. Maybe you are making a mistake.”

Daddy grabbed Mia’s chin and lifted her face. “Never say that to me again.”

His face was so stern, Mia felt a little scared.

“Daddy,” she whispered.

“No, Mia. I love you for you. Never question that and never call it a mistake.”

Tears filled her eyes. She roughly pulled her face away from Daddy and laid it back down on his chest. She was confused, worried, and happy all at the same time. How could she believe him? His words were strong, but she still worried. What had she done to deserve his love?

Daddy lay back. Feeling exhausted at the enormity of the journey he’d chosen. How could he make her see what he saw? How could he explain to her that there were no mistakes in life?

That there were only actions and the results from those actions, freely chosen. And that she had freewill and free choice in choosing what those actions and results were?

How could he explain to her, after a lifetime of brainwashing and cultural conditioning, that everything she knew was wrong, and designed to control her? And as a woman, for the most part, it was designed to control her sexuality.

That yes, there was right and wrong, good and evil. However, they existed to balance each other. Not to punish her. There would be no such thing as good, if there wasn’t evil. The same as there would be no such things as light without dark, or hot without cold. That didn’t make hot “bad” and cold “good.”

That all of her actions, the good ones and the bad ones, were designed to bring her to a state of bliss and self-acceptance that she truly was an image of her universal creator. She was a Goddess, and Goddesses can do nothing wrong.

All of her actions, the good ones and the bad ones, were nothing more than a lesson to be learned in a universal classroom. There was no retribution for past sins. T

he same as she would never punish a child for an unintentional accident. The universe wasn’t concerned in punishing her. The universe wasn’t interested in revenge, or controlling her.

But she could find hell if she wanted. It was right here on earth. It was right in her own mind. It was her constant companion in life until she learned to reject it herself from her truth, and instead, live in truth. The same as heaven is.

Daddy understood clearly he could not show her what he saw in her. He didn’t have that ability, or any answers on that scale. She would have to see it for herself. And she would see it when she truly, honestly, wanted to, when she was at the point that truly opening her heart and soul were the only paths left open.

Because she exhausted all the fake ones. He pitied, and loved her at the same time. Pitied because he had walked the same path, once upon a time, and understood too well the pain, the confusion, not being able to believe in the perfectness of herself as she already was.

He loved her, for the courage it took to even BEGIN such a journey of self discovery. Most people couldn’t, he knew that. Instead content to live in their own private hell of illusion. He could not explain it to her. It was so far, far, beyond words he had, and the answers were only available by feeling the truth for herself. He could just open the door and invite her in.

She would have to take her own journey towards the truth.

So instead, he said, “Baby Doll, we are all flawless imperfections. We are all absolutely perfect mistakes, every single minute of our lives. That’s why I love you. If I am making a mistake, it is a mistake I freely choose, and choose to learn from.

“You are in my life for a reason, and I am in your life for the same. I freely choose to make the mistake of loving you. And I freely accept the results of that decision. Now go to sleep.”

“Group conformity scares the pants off me because it’s so often a prelude to cruelty towards anyone who doesn’t want to

- or can’t - join the Big Parade.”

Bette Midler

Chapter 28

Prescott was starting to get curious about the whereabouts of his wife.

She had been gone for two days. There was no sign that she had returned to the house. Her clothes and jewelry were still there. Only her purse, and her car were gone. He sat in his chair in the living room, twisted off the cap and reflected that was the first time in ten years he had gotten his own beer.

He replayed the events in his head. Yes, he had beaten her, but it was nothing unusual. He had beat her harder in the past. What he didn’t understand in the slightest was the look of pure hatred in her eyes. He wasn’t prepared for that.

He hadn’t been prepared for her picking up a knife either. Somehow, in the space of only a few hours, she had either grown a set of balls, or found a new fountain of strength.

He adjusted the crotch of his pants, unzipped his fly and pulled his cock out. All these thoughts of beating Mia made him horny. He stroked his cock, with one hand, and drank his beer with the other, thinking about what he was going to do to her when she returned.

There was no doubt she would return. He ejaculated on the floor and didn’t bother cleaning it up. He’d make Mia clean it with her tongue.

Another question that entered his mind right then was,
where had she been staying?
Maybe she was at a homeless shelter downtown, or one of those pathetic halfway houses for abused women.

He made a mental note to check both. That gave him an idea. He pulled out his cell phone and called the office.

His secretary answered.

“Layla, I need a list of all the homeless shelters around the city along with all the spousal abuse halfway houses. Can you get me those in a hurry?”

“The homeless shelters are no problem. But not the halfway houses.”

“Why not?”

“They’re secret. Only law enforcement knows where they are.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“No, why do you need those?” her curiosity peaked.

“A new case I’m working on. A man’s wife disappeared, and he wants to make sure she didn’t get amnesia and wander off the street.”

“I didn’t see any new cases come in…”

“Will you just do it Layla? Save me your pithy comments.”

“Yes, sir.”

Prescott drove to the homeless shelters, showing a picture of his wife. The bums of course, wouldn’t talk without a financial inducement, usually consisting of a ten or twenty spot and he soon ran out of cash. So he went and bought a case of rotgut wine and passed that out instead. The people running the homeless shelters weren’t much help either.

Most said they gave up looking at the lodgers a long time ago and Elvis could come in holding hands with Marilyn Monroe, and they wouldn’t notice. Prescott tilted his head towards an Elvis impersonator nodding off in the corner.

“See? What did I tell you?” the woman said.

So Prescott sat in his Lexus, in the poor part of town getting stink-eyed by gang bangers, and called a cop buddy.

“Flynn, you fucktard. It’s Prescott.”

“The King of the West-Side Weenies. Did you cry when the economy tanked your trust fund?”

“Very funny. Did you cry when your wife came home dreamy-eyed and my cock on her breath?”

“Look, Prescott, I’d love to shoot the breeze all day, but you know, I do have citizens I need to beat the shit out of. Maybe taser a couple of grannies to keep them in line, so…”

“I need to know the addresses of the spousal abuse shelters.”

“Yeah, well, good luck.”

“You can do it. I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Why? Did you lose your wife into one of them?”

Oh, that stung. Flynn always was quick on the uptake, the bastard.

“It’s for a client, so it goes on the expense account.”

“Let me get back to you.”

The line went dead.

His cell phone beeped a couple of hours later and some addresses rolled up on the screen. Flynn came though. Now he wondered what it was going to cost him. He cruised over to the first one, drove past slowly checking it out, then pulled in up the street, so he could watch it in his rear-view mirror.

Within minutes, the cops arrived. Luckily, it was Flynn. He hit the siren, and kept the blue lights flashing.

“You aren’t too bright, are you Prescott?”

“I was just checking it out. I thought citizens had a right to be on city streets.”

“Not since the Patriot Act. Citizens are tax paying terrorists now. Didn’t anyone tell you? So move your ass off this street before I taze you along with Granny.”

“Thanks Flynn, I owe you.”

“Oh yeah, you do, buddy. I’m going to collect too.”

Prescott pulled away wondering what his next move was. He drove around town about an hour or so and called the office.

“Layla, do we have any investigators on the payroll? Who are we using now?”

“We got a couple of ex-cops we use from time to time, but no one permanent.”

“Gimme their numbers would you?”

She read them off her Rolodex.

“You know if you need me to work late, and help you relieve some stress, I could. You sound like you’re under an awful lot of pressure,” she inquired helpfully.

Actually, the stress was building up in Prescott, and he wanted to see if Miss Layla might be the new and improved version of Mia.

“You know, Layla, there is an awful lot you can help me catch up on. Of course, I’ll be working out of my home office. I hope that doesn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“Not at all, Mr. Prescott. Should I bring some takeout?”

“An excellent idea, Layla.” Thoughts of Layla’s cute round ass raging through his head triggered his blood lust, and he started rubbing his cock in anticipation.