Disciples of Pleasure
By
Desiree Erotique

Chapter One

    The sigh of the breeze through the Smoky Mountain pines was cruelly seductive. It had often urged Elsa to run to the mountains and disappear there into the lush and wild darkness; to abandon all for the possibility of fulfilling a fantasy she'd long dared not look at but for cautious glimpses. Even those glimpses had left her bereft most of the time.
    But tonight, on her break, Elsa had escaped to the parking lot and the need for a cigarette blocked out the woeful glimpses that the mountains so often stirred in her. She drew her lighter from the pocket of her uniform dress and a cigarette from the pack stuffed deep in the bottom. The first inhale of the cigarette was the first calm breath she'd had since coming to work that afternoon. She had started smoking only days after starting work as a waitress at Thomas Family Steak House. The cigarettes settled her nerves, eased the strangeness she still felt now and then to be in the real world, and out of the stifling feminist regime of the Sisterhood community in which she'd been raised. Most students at ASU didn't smoke except pot, but she found she needed something—and preferably legal—in order to deal with the harpy who actually ran the steak house. Donald Thomas had hired her as he hired all employees, and it was he who had to deal with the deliveries and ensuring the restaurant ran as smoothly as possible and squeaked past the requirements of the health department. But it was Cynthia Thomas who was the real power, handling the books with all the efficiency and patience she never possessed for the employees. The leaving of a light on in the restroom or accidentally ladling an ounce of gravy more than what met Cynthia's stingy ordinance had already cost more than one job. And heaven forbid any female employee cast an eye toward Donald that she could possibly construe as anything other than professional.
    Not that Elsa or any other waitress was interested in pussy-whipped Donald Thomas. He was as undesirable as the general male patrons, whether the tight-assed Fundamentalists or one of the hippie professors who regularly showed up to pacify their munchies at the salad bar. Once in a while a good-looking business man came in for dinner, and sometimes even the correctional officers came in while escorting prisoners back and forth between the county jail and their last trek to the state prison.
    One of these officers in particular Elsa had enjoyed many tantalizing fantasies over. His first name was Robert, he was husky and dark eyed, always had a joke to tell and tipped better than most.
    She thought of Robert now as she drew on the cigarette. She admired the thick bulge of his crotch, and she wondered if he was as masterful in bed as he was in managing his prisoners. She had asked his fellow officers if they'd seen him, and they replied he must have taken an unexpected vacation. She'd even called the prison once and asked if he was on duty, but of course they weren't about to give out information about one of their officers to a non-family member. So many times over the last few weeks she had gone to sleep with potent images of him in her mind. The fantasy of him handcuffing her to the back seat of his vehicle and ravishing her with a bestial and remorseless passion was still with her.
     Shooting a look about the lot, she rubbed her breasts and imagined the officer's lips chafing their bare skin, his tongue prodding the nipples, his teeth nibbling until  more >>