Chapter 2: Shaking In Los Angeles

Around Dawn, Monday July 21, 2008

The Mansion

I woke up from a very deep sleep with the bed shaking. I am very aware of my sleep state, I have done studies with brain wave gizmos. I had been deeply asleep. But somebody or something was making a type of commotion I am usually concerned about, and I naturally wondered about it.

Non-Angelenos must understand that, living in LA, one is very sensitive to vibrations of one’s bed. Earthquake scientists, who pretend to know about such things, tell us the “the big one” is only a matter of time and a shaking bed is the way some folks will learn about it before the horror and the screaming begin.

I mean, where would you rather be when it happened? In bed with a special friend and a new vibration feature, or in the panicked, irrational crowds on Sunset Strip, with all the usual LA venomous reptiles who hang there? Or maybe within the I-5 / I-10 / 110 Interstate parking lot, baking in the sun helplessly, watching as the expressway in front and in back of you goes to pieces?

When the big shake happens property values will change radically as many of the high-priced parts of LA slide west beyond the beach to become one with the seabed, taking along with the unimaginable wealth, the beautiful people, and the tons of coke they contain. I expect that, for a time it will become an all-you-can-eat buffet for sharks, which seems strangely appropriate. The other side of the fault line will become the Nuevo Cali coastline - until the next one.

However, as I came to the surface of my sleep I realized that these shakings were not the great earthquake, I figured that out before I opened my eyes. Instead it seemed that somebody was enjoying the heights of sexual activity in my bed. But this was itself very confusing to me. It was my bed, I was sure of that. But the usual rule is that when there is active sex going on in my bed, I am very particular about enjoying some of the fun. Was that happening this time? I thought a moment, took a little internal inventory. After due consideration it just did not feel like I was one of those enjoying it.

I was very comfortable in my less-deep sleep, I really did not want to break the surface of my sleep to wake up even a little bit. But it seemed that I driven by curiosity.

There was another piece to the puzzle, something at the edge of my mind which was probably relevant but which I could not quite recall. It was a deep sleep, one where dreams and memories were piled in a jumble.

I thought maybe I should open one eye, to get a look without really waking up. That way it would be just that much more relaxing to close it and return to sleep afterward. I thought about that some more, I knew it never worked before, but I had to try it anyway, just to reassure myself.

Resolving what I saw was not that difficult. It seemed I had left Zar tied to the bed in bondage when I was done having too much fun with her body before I fell asleep. I was tired for the long day. Her hands were locked in these elbow-length gloves that were in turn attached to a solid steel ‘handle bar’ that was used to suspend her from one of my sex machines. The thing is, that took place in a location downstairs. Yet now we were in bed, which is not downstairs.