The Journal 9 (Patreon)

I flip to the next page. I read:

No, do not seek me

Lace bound, stilletoed, i bleed

Razor smooth, i tremble

The sounds of traffic outside the Uber fade. I see Mike in the bathtub, shaving those long legs, soapy bubbles dripping from the curve of his calf. I run my fingers over my smooth skin, and I tremble.

"Hey, buddy," the Uber driver says, snapping me back to this body, this life.

"Yeah?"

"We're here."

I look out the window. A low, windowless building, like so many strip joints along the Sunset Strip. A sign on the roof reads Transformations. I can picture it at night, lit up, neon excitement. 

"Thanks,"  say, getting out, holding the journal over my crotch. The vision have given me a boner, seeing myself in that bra, feeling my smooth legs.

The driver pulls away. I hesitate, standing in the parking lot.  No, he wrote. Do not seek me. But I know he -- she-- is in there, and i want that gorgeous body. I mean, I want to make love to the gorgeous body.

Yeah. That's it. Mike is a hot piece of ass now, I want him.