The Awakening of Angel Ch. 01

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Angel begins a journey of discovery of her dark secrets.
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Part 1 of the 18 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 02/17/2016
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This is my first attempt at erotic writing and I do appreciate constructive criticism and helpful hints. My intent was to write something for the ladies. Truthfully I like the idea of getting a woman aroused by what I have written. If you are looking for slam-bang-thank-you-ma'am sperm shooting on the walls sex this probably isn't for you. Although it may turn into that by the last chapter.

The Awakening of Angel

Chapter 1

5 June Brannon Tillman

She walked into my club just a little after sunset on one of those early summer days where the temperature was just right and the breeze carried the scent of flowers. But mixed with the light floral tones I sensed a slight hint of muskiness. Was it her? There was something in her walk that caught my eye. A slight sway of hips and a determined placement of steps that exuded confidence. She had a little bounce, an internal rhythm that kept time to the beat of the dance music as she made her way to the bar.

Many of the men, and quite a few of the women, either stared directly or stole sideways glances as she passed by. There was a very palpable femininity that was enhanced by her small frame, ample curves, and luxurious brunette hair. It was very apparent that she had chosen each item of clothing and her makeup with the express intent of accentuating each of her features.

Then there was what I call the bubble because she literally bubbled, like a freshly opened bottle of high quality champagne. The effervescence overflowed when she laughed. It was an intoxicating girlish giggle that carried a fresh sense of innocence. But there were undertones of something hidden. Something dark maybe? Or possibly some deep insecurity? For sure it was there, whatever it was, and she did a good job of hiding it. Most people wouldn't pick up on it, but I did.

My reserved seat at the corner of the bar allows me to watch my employees and guests without appearing conspicuous because it sits in a sort of stagnant dark space away from the main serving area. It just doesn't get lots of traffic. It was a busy night, the drinks flowed freely and the music pounded out a primal beat. You wouldn't say I am wealthy by today's standards, but I do well and my businesses and investments are successful. It helps to have a great staff because it frees me up to pursue my hobbies and passions. Nevertheless, I like being at the club for many reasons, one of which will soon become very apparent.

In any given night there will be a handful of women who try to catch my attention. Some are subtle and others are very overt in their approach. Some are beautiful, some are the girl next door, and some are drop dead knockouts. But I look for certain special little nuances in a woman that indicate hidden things which need to be brought to the surface. Elements that are a hindrance and keeping her from being that complete perfect blossom of womanhood. That's my passion.

This night was no different than so many others, the approach of interested females, some polite small talk, and an eventual wandering away to more fertile pickings when I didn't return the correct signals. Meanwhile my item of interest had taken a seat at the other end of the bar and was engaged in some light conversation with the people around her. I decided that it was time to make my rounds of the house and made may way to a number of guests, welcoming them and making sure they were having a good time. I purposefully circulated to the customers in her general area but made sure to not make eye contact. A few feet away from her I leaned over the bar and told the bartender to send a round of drinks on the house to table 12 for the bachelorette party that was well underway, and then made my way back to my secluded corner.

That short foray accomplished a few things. She noticed me, and saw that I didn't notice her. It also confirmed that my initial assessment of the source of the muskiness was indeed her. There were some crazy endorphins at work with her. I have to be honest that it was purely intoxicating but there was no way she was going to know the effect it had on me. Not now anyway.

As the evening progressed she danced and talked with a number of men, all of which took a shot, and all of whom were subsequently rebuffed. Unlike lesser women, whose rejections were often harsh, she seemed to have a way of sending suitors off feeling better for having met her. It was intriguing to watch the way she interacted with people, yet I still sensed a secret being hidden deep. A number of times she looked over to see if I was looking her way, but my observations were always out of my peripheral vision and there was obvious disappointment and confusion on her face.

Last call eventually went out and she was still sitting at the bar, talking to a few couples waiting for the valets to bring their cars around. I made my way over to her as the couples exited and asked her if I could call her a cab to which she answered that she was a little buzzed but would be fine to drive. My response was firm that I took very good care of my customers and that a cab was coming and one of my staff would follow in her car.

There was a smile and a little blush, followed by a cute, if not slightly slurred giggle. She reached out and touched my elbow and said, "Thank you for being such a gentleman. My friends call me Angel." I returned not quite a smile, but more of a knowing and friendly nod. Leaning in close to her ear I spoke a few words and then straightened up. She had a somewhat stunned but quizzical and look on her face, froze for a moment, then quickly turned and got in the taxi.

5 June Angel

It had started out as just an evening to have a little fun, dance, and have a few drinks. Some friends had told me about this club so I thought I'd give it a try and maybe meet a nice guy. My last relationship had ended about eight months earlier. It wasn't a bad breakup and it wasn't sad. We had just reached a natural conclusion, so we hugged and parted ways, promising to stay in touch. All my relationships seemed to follow that same pattern and I was fine with that.

That all changed within minutes of walking into that club. He was sitting at the end of the bar. Even in the dim light I could see these piercing sharp eyes. I shuddered a bit because I felt like they could bore into my inner soul. And there was something else. Confident power might be the right words. Not arrogance though. Arrogance always has something faulty underneath that makes it fall short. Maybe it's hiding a fear of failure? Confidence is where ability has already been proven time after time and the outcome is never in question. This guy commanded the room like the Alpha Wolf and even the men seemed to skulk just a little. And it was just his presence. He never even looked at me and I felt weak in the knees and was slapped with that sharp internal surge of endorphins you get when you meet someone you are attracted to.

I asked the bartender who he was and she just said that it was the owner, Mr. Tillman. She went on to explain that he was a great boss, very hot, and single, but that nobody knew much about him. She added that he's a very generous man who helps employees and charitable organizations but also very, very private.

I felt drawn to him and scared at the same time. Feeling like I was standing on the rim of an active volcano staring at the boiling lava. Almost wanting to jump into the mesmerizing roiling flames knowing full well that I'd be consumed in the process, but hoping that I might come out the other side refined and purified. Purified! Ugh! Why would I pick that word?

All night he ignored me but welcomed lots of other people and asked if they were having a good time. He even sent free drinks to a bachelorette party. But when he got near me it was like I was invisible! It made me mad and a little hurt. Lots of guys are attracted to me, and I usually can get any one I want, or at least get them to look my way. I even used some of my tried and true methods to get his attention but I might as well have been a picture on the wall.

Then at the end of the night he finally came over and my heart jumped up in my throat, thinking that he had noticed me. But that high was instantly smashed when he just asked if I needed a cab. In one last attempt I smiled and touched his arm in a gesture of thanks but there was no reaction. I was screaming on the inside when he leaned over and whispered in my ear, "You are a beautiful girl but there is something dark deep down inside of you. On some level you know it's there and know it's holding you back. If you want to discover what it is and get rid of it, come back tomorrow night and ask for Kim at the bar." I was angry, stunned, hurt, scared, and confused all at the same time. The cab then arrived and I all could think to do was get in and go home.

On the ride home my head was swimming, some from the alcohol, but mostly from the events with Tillman, whatever his first name was. His words kept echoing through my head. How dare he? What could he possibly know about me? Something dark? What bullshit! And yet there was this nagging feeling, something I couldn't put my finger on. And there was a tingle of excitement and warmth spreading through my body, and it wasn't the alcohol.

The cab pulled up to my house and I took my car keys from the bartender who had followed and I offered my thanks. Once inside I shut the door and headed to the bathroom to take a much needed soak in the tub. After turning on the water I stripped off my dress and bra and then peeled off my panties, only to find that they were sopping wet.

6 June Angel

To say it was the worst night of sleep I've ever had is a complete understatement. Tillman kept invading my thoughts. He was a good looking man of average height and everything about him seemed to be perfectly ordered. His clothes were not expensive but they all seemed to fit perfectly. They might have been tailored but it seemed more like his body molded itself to fit the clothes. And there was this underpinning strength to his movement. Not really like a bodybuilder but more like someone who trained to the limit and then tested themselves under very dangerous and trying circumstances.

The closest image that comes to mind are the Navy Seals or Army Green Beret's that I've seen on TV. When you just glance at them it just appears they are normal guys, but closer examination reveals the feeling that they could snap your neck with one hand without breaking a sweat. This was the image of Tillman that kept penetrating my thoughts.

Then there were those eyes! Clear, precise, and sharp. When he looked at me I felt stripped and naked. But not just externally naked. It's really hard to explain but I felt naked inside out. Like I had been laid out on a table and examined piece by piece. The sensation was unnerving. Yet when he was looking at me I couldn't look away. But I didn't want to. No, I wanted to look away, didn't I? But the thought of looking away filled me with an overpowering sense of panic. Is this what drug addicts feel like when the supply runs dry?

I really needed to get out of bed. The sheets, my tank top, and shorts were all soaked with sweat. And musk. What the hell was going on? My head told me that this guy was not going to consume any more of my thoughts as I climbed into the shower. The needles of hot water were beating a steady tattoo on the smooth skin of my back, the warmth and relaxation starting to spread through my core like a bubbling hot spring.

Then my eyes latched onto last night's panties laying on the bathroom floor. They were black and lacy. Well that was the original color. My gaze was drawn to the crotch which I discovered was completely filled with dried white crust. My throat muscles contracted along with every muscle, no that's not right, every pore contracted on my body. I quickly turned my body away to escape the evidence of my arousal but that was a mistake.

The jets of water turned their attention to my breasts, stomach, and thighs. The assault on my senses dropped me to my knees as my breathing became labored and clipped. I struggled to stand back up, but a wave of pleasure exploded from my toes and rapidly climbed my body, expanding in waves until it reached the top of my head. I swear that I felt it in my hair! It was overwhelming and all I could do was push the door open and crawl out on all fours.

Quite some time later my eyes began to flutter open and it took me a bit to figure out why I was laying on the floor naked in a fetal position with the shower running. I grabbed the edge of the tub and pulled myself shakily up. Looking in the mirror I took a towel to start to dry off, but the moment it touched my skin it seemed to be made of sandpaper. It was so sensitive that all I could do was gingerly pat myself dry. My eyes stared back at me from the mirror, accusing me of running away. They told me that I had to go back to the bar tonight and see where this insanity led.

6 June Tillman

Over my morning coffee I contemplated the previous nights events. The sun streamed into the glass enclosed garden room and bathed my German Shepherd in a pool of liquid gold. Roxie stretched luxuriously in the warmth, yawned, and lapsed back into that deep sleep that only dogs seem able to achieve. Maybe it's because their consciences were clear I mused. She had been on some tough missions with me but, unlike humans, seemed to not carry any of it with her. She had even saved my life a few times but never seemed to hold it over my head. I chuckled at my stupid joke.

My mind drifted back to Angel. I knew that wasn't her real name. It was just further evidence that she had something buried, and it was buried deep. But I also knew that she would come back to the club tonight to talk to Kim and it would be later rather than early. How did I know this? Well it's pretty simple and I've seen it many times before. There's an internal struggle where the deep dark tries to stay hidden by convincing the host that they are just being stupid and it's all a waste of time. The battle continues until the good convinces the host that it won't hurt just to go see what it's all about. Well that's what happens with women of strong character. The weak ones just allow the deep dark to win and merrily plod along the road of life.

Knowing she would be back I opened my laptop and began to type the customized documents that would guide the events of the coming months. Every element of the process is specifically designed to have a particular impact which all combine to influence the desired outcome. Some people might call it brainwashing or mental manipulation but they would be wrong. It's really a process of healing and self-discovery. Two hours later I finished the documents, which were all printed in black Gothic bold font and all caps on a rough surface tan paper, sealed them in an envelope with red sealing wax, and dropped them off at the club. And thus the journey began.

6 June Angel

It was about 9:30 when I got to Tillman's club. I had spent hours arguing with myself about going. One minute it seemed like it was a big waste of time and then the next I really wanted to go. Eventually I just decided there would be no harm in just going and checking it out. If I had really been honest with myself I would have admitted it was more than just checking it out. I was in fact dressed to kill and my bedroom was living evidence of my efforts to pick just the right outfit.

I settled on black stilettos and a black skintight dress that ended right below my ass and wasn't quite sure what to do with my breasts. The dress just sort of meandered around covering a little of the sides and front. But I have big boobs and the girls for sure had a full ocean view if you know what I mean. The dress was even lower in the back and I chose a necklace that dangled down into my cleavage which normally achieved the desired effect with guys. The girls were supported by a crimson red lace bra which matched my lipstick and my hair cascaded freely, draping my shoulders and framing my face.

The club was busy but there was a noticeable drop in the conversation when I walked through the door. Yep it had the desired effect. I even heard the thwack of some poor guy getting belted on the arm by his girlfriend. As I made my way to the bar I noticed that there was only one female behind the bar and the embroidered name on her polo showed I was right. "Hi Kim, I'm here to meet Mr. Tillman" "And you are....?" "I'm Angel and he said to talk to you when I got here." Kim reached under the bar and handed me a large envelope sealed in red wax and added, "He isn't here but left this for you."

I was dumbfounded. "What the hell!!! He tells me to come back and he's not even here?!?" Kim just smiled and shrugged as I turned my back to the bar and stomped out the door. I got in my car just fuming mad, threw the envelope on the passenger seat and started the engine. As I headed home, with my fury showing in my driving, I kept looking at that envelope. The red seal was unsettling and I also thought it was mocking me. But the most annoying thing was that the seat cushion under me started feeling damp.

Arriving home I slammed the front door open, and began kicking off shoes and flinging stuff out of my hands. After changing I plopped roughly down on the couch and started flipping through TV channels like a demon possessed. Nothing but stupid romance shows! After stabbing the off button on the remote and tossing it across the couch, what does it do? Of course it effing lands on that effing envelope and the blazing red wax seal. I tried to ignore it, but the harder I tried the louder it screamed.

In a flash of anger I snatched it up and ripped off the seal. Inside was a sheaf of heavy fiber papers which were printed on a computer which made me mad in itself. He couldn't even write something by hand? The paper was rough in my hands but there was something else. Something faint. Was it a scent? Holding the papers close to my nose it was definitely there, a recognizable citrus scent. Was it bergamot? Yes bergamot, with tones of musk and sandalwood. That would make it Bulgari Man.

Unbelievable! How did this guy know it's one of my favorite men's colognes? What was going on here? The guy's a no show, computer prints some stuff on some crappy paper and then scents it with my favorite cologne? I was off balance for the second time in 24 hours and sure didn't like the feeling. Disgustedly I tossed the stack in my bag and went to bed.

7 June Angel

It had been a busy morning at work and it was time for a little break and my mouth was dry so I reached into my bag to grab some mints. My hand brushed against some rough paper and I quickly withdrew my hand as what felt like an electric tingle shot up my arm. I sat frozen for a few seconds as I contemplated the snarling mouth of my bag. Why was this so compelling and yet so unsettling? They were just papers. My inner voice just told me to be a big girl and read them so that we could move on so out they came and for the next half hour I read and re-read the contents, not quite comprehending the implications of what they said.

The first page was a note and some instructions which said,

"Angel, I can tell that you are an incredible woman with lots of things going for you. But I can also see that there is something, or things, that are deep down holding you back from your full potential. And they may be also causing you unhappiness that you only sense in your subconscious. I have helped many people and I can help you. But it will take your complete trust and you will have to put yourself in my hands. If you want to proceed then please review and complete the enclosed documents. It will be necessary to sign them in the presence of the noted attorney who will keep all but one which you will retain. You are welcome to have the documents reviewed by counsel of your own choosing prior to signing."

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