Jaycee Woods

Here a bit of the beginning of “Cyn’s Trap” after its first edit pass of the draft. Not raw, but not polished either with two more edit passes as part of the planned process.

* Snip below *

Vic wakes up handcuffed to the bed again, but this time he does not remember how. His dry pasty mouth does not feel like his usual morning after, but he did not drink that much…maybe just a couple sips of bourbon before the room began to spin. Suddenly, he realizes that he is not at home; this is not his bed. Alone, he begins to worry about who handcuffed him.

As Vic’s blurry vision begins to clear, his eyes focus on his unfamiliar surroundings. The room looks like it has been abandoned for years, but the bed has been made with fresh bedding. He cannot see any other furnishings in the room. Using his free left arm, he moves himself to a sitting position with his bare feet on the worn dusty wooden floor while his right wrist remains cuffed to the old iron headboard. He tests the strength of the metal then hopes that he will not have to wait here until the headboard rusts to weakness.

Looking at the patterns in the dust, Vic sees wheel tracks leading up to the bed and tiny footprints scattered about in a meandering pattern around the room. Surprised, he notices that he wears only pajama bottoms, but not his pajamas, instead of the suit he wore last night after returning from the award ceremony.

Vic searches his memory of last night to determine how he got here, like this. His agent convinced him that Vic needed to be seen at the award ceremony to keep his name and face in front of the public. Returning from weeks of filming in Vancouver, Vic just wanted to sleep, but he did his duty to his craft at the award show. He pressed the flesh, smiled for the cameras, and appeared next to all the right people; all the stuff he hated about this business as it distracted from his art. Is he still an artist or just a product? Those lines had blurred in his experience.

Vic left the ceremony alone after turning down an aspiring actress or four longing to lift her own profile in the light of his star. He walked home alone into the hills to embrace the normal in life again instead of the Hollywood illusion. When he arrived, his empty dark home comforted him. He did not look forward to tomorrow’s return of Sid, his security guard; Vic had neglected to tell Sid that he had returned to town this morning.

Looking forward to peaceful sleep without an early 5 AM call to the makeup chair, Vic poured himself a bourbon to calm his mind for sleep. Vic tried to savor it, to fully experience its flavor. He found it uncharacteristically bitter. He swirled the liquid in the glass as he considered the change in the liquor. He wondered whether that bitterness reflected a change in himself. After a few sips, the room began to spin…and he fell. Falling as his final memory of last night.

Returning to the present, a female voice in the doorway caught his attention when she purred, “I have been waiting for this for a long time. Good morning honey, how did you sleep?” Vic does not recognize this beautiful woman with tiny feet, but he has a foggy familiarity with her voice.

“I slept better than I have in weeks. Although I did wake up confused. I guess you know what I do not,” Vic replied. He wonders whether, or not, she bites. Is she his captor or an ally who will unlock his cuff? He notes that she has that glint in her eye of an adoring fan. He continues, “Not to complain, but my head is throbbing, and I am thirsty. However, most urgently, I need to pee like a racehorse.”

The woman smiles delightfully enjoying that Vic has decided to be playful with her. She points at a bucket on the other side of the room, then instructs, “Well, if you wanna pee so bad, you can pee there.” After an inadvertent giggle, she adds, “Oh by the way, I am Cyn. What’s your name?” as if she did not know him.

Vic starts to turn on his cinematic charm, but decides instead to be authentically himself before saying, “I’m Vic. Cyn that bucket is far away when I have one hand cuffed to the bed. If I am going to reliably aim my stream, I need two hands to aim my cock. Could you either move the bucket closer or hold my cock while I pee so I don’t miss the bucket?” Vic stares into Cyn’s eyes before adding, “You have an honest face, so I trust you.”

Cyn blushes while lowering her head to hide her excited smile before saying, “I will help you.” Unable to restrain herself, she prances closer to Vic. He realizes by her confidence that Cyn is not the innocent assistant, but his captor. His heart races as he tries to understand just how dangerous she may be.