Today's song is "Simple Things" (2011) by The Tryst
Review:
ABSOLUTELY IN LOVE WITH THE INSTRUMENTALS AND VOCALS IN THIS ONE!!! This is one hundred percent a band that I'm going to return to! And it's only got 15 monthly listerners? Fucking tragic.
I've always been terrible at identifying genres but I think this is reggae? Perhaps some form of ska? Or just general jazz? Either way it's a super enjoyable combination of drums, horns, and guitar! And the singer's delightful voice is just the cherry on top:-D
Extra thoughts:
Not much to say other than I highly recommend this band from the few songs I listened to after Simple Things! But one random thought: the singer's vocals vaguely remind me of The Crane Wive's lead singer's.
You had been assigned and trained your entire life for the moment you were bought, for the ceremony, the Tryst. Expert on sex, love, scents, food, drink, companionship...you never imagined in your wildest dreams you'd be escorted away from all you knew by two gruff Storm Troopers. Maybe there was hope, maybe it had all been for nothing. All you knew is that you needed gin, and you needed it right now.
(AO3 link)
The light snap of your garter belt attaching to your lacy, thigh high stockings brought you back; Back to the reality that today, you were to be sold. Your hand rested gently on your thigh, admiring the dusty-rose colored lingerie surrendering to your curves. The fabric was both luxurious and irritating, but you looked absolutely arresting.
You had seen the other women prepare for the day they would meet their owners, all of them sauntering out of the stone walls as if to a hungry lover...but you couldn't shake a feeling of unease, a lump in your throat that no amount of red wine could tame.
You weren't allowed to know the name of your buyer, nor their gender, occupation, age...nothing. You only knew one thing: they were unashamedly, filthy rich. Your heart fluttered at the thought of what may await you. Perhaps this human who purchased you would be kind? Perhaps they would show you the world, take you far away from these dimly lit corridors and vapid trainings.
You pinched your cheeks ever so slightly, praying the pink hue would be subtle enough. You looked in the mirror, placing your hands on your chest, tracing your soft fingertips down the strong lines of your sheer bodysuit. The intricate straps attached to your lingerie led your eyes up and down, side to side. You were almost in awe of yourself.
You caressed one lock of hair, perfectly curled. You looked perfect.
On the floor were pillows, sheets, and throws of every fine fabric and fur. There was a small fire crackling in the background, keeping you company while you waited for The Tryst.
The ceremony was unable to be rehearsed, you were meant to be equipped with the knowledge to satisfy another from the start. Without knowing anything about anyone, you had to be able to work quick on your feet to pacify, pleasure, and satiate anyone's desires. You'd been training for this as long as you could remember, and though your hands were steady, your mind was a maelstrom.
The first order had made your practices illegal, but the majority of buyers were Commanders, Generals, and other First Order officers. Their money made your perfection a reality, and your mind a seductive weapon. However, most of the women you'd trained with who were bought by First Order were never heard from again. You were nervous that if you were to end up in their hands, you would share the other women's fate.
You decided to slip on your Navy blue wrap dress, careful to tie the fabric at your waist properly. The material was substantial yet draped over you like flowing water. The pin cushioned chaise near the fire beckoned you and you submitted. All this preparing had drained your energy, and you deserved to prop your feet up for a moment…
The heat of the crackling fire lulled you into the twilight zone when you heard the whoosh of the powered doors. Your heart jolted your body forward and you ruffled your hair, hoping you still looked as you had before. The footsteps coming from the hallway sounded heavy, masking the faint click of the Countess's high heels. You took a sweet breath and fluttered your eyes, sitting at your mirror with a lipstick in hand. Crossing your legs, you purposefully exposed the lace of your stockings and pretended to be touching up your makeup. The wooden door to your room swung open, you weren't expecting this moment to seem so rash.
The countess sauntered in; your heart imagined what your master must look like, hoping he was of nobility or wealth, maybe even handsome. When you turned to look at the buyer, you were in disbelief.
Two Storm troopers stood at your door, not daring to take a step further from the frame. No amount of makeup in the world could hide the disappointment, confusion, and cosmic betrayal painted onto your skin.
"Come now...y/n…" breathed the countess.
Your eyes darted from her to the Storm troopers, in search of a flaw in the reality. Were you really just purchased to become a gaggle of Storm troopers play thing?
"I beg your pardon," you uttered meekly, "are you to be my keepers?"
The storm troopers looked at each other, then back to you as if you'd said something preposterous.
"We are here to collect you, girl" asserted the deep, female voice of the storm trooper.
"For yourselves?"
They looked to the countess, who appeared rather solemn. From her pocket she pulled a small letter, sealed with a wax pressed A. It appeared she had already opened it by the loose flap of the letter, but her hand outstretched to you, letter in tow. You took the letter reluctantly, swallowing dry saliva that seemed to make your throat more scratchy.
You closed the letter after reading it, sat at your vanity and began packing your things. You were not going to be passed around a gang of Storm troopers, you were now the property of one First Order General, Armitage Hux. It seemed a bit karmic that you had been feeling sorrow for the women who were sold to the first order, only to be blindly led there yourself.
Walking with the storm troopers to their aircraft, you couldn't help but see every day of your life all at once. All the trainings, emotionless hours of sexual banter, lying awake at night wondering if there was any other existence. You felt regret. Something you hadn't faced for as long as you could remember.
You attempted to ask the storm troopers about this general, hopeful that they would spare you some information on the ride, but they didn't say a word to you the entire trip. You were tempted to seduce them both, but the unknown stole your own spontaneity.
You arrived at a ship, large and bewildering. It felt like all eyes were on you, but of course they were. The area you were escorted through was all storm troopers and black uniforms, a nameless sea of bodies walking this way and that. You'd never been off your planet, and the large bay door opened to the cosmos stole your breath. Your bicep was grabbed firmly by the female storm trooper as you had lagged behind, jaw agape with the beauty of the stars and nothingness.
"Keep up, girl," she demanded.
Your deep blue wrap dress fluttered from the winds of passersby. So many people heading to and from ships, you felt like you were trapped in a beehive.
After climbing through hall after mind numbing hall, you arrived at a rather sleek wing of the ship, adorned with modern furniture and ambient light. The storm trooper released your arm and your hand rose to caress the tender area.
You looked around the foyer at the vaulted bookcases, filled to exhaustion with the spines of innumerable texts. So, he's a reader, you thought. The troopers accessed the entry way to the quarters with a code, the door whirred open and they pushed you in.
You turned around to refuse but the door shut quickly without hesitation. You heard their footsteps begin to fade as you held yourself with one arm. As you looked around, you saw an immaculately clean, slightly austere living quarters. This was nothing like your flat in the old house; no fireplace, no vanity, no personality. Your heels clicked against the sleek floors as you journeyed further in. You walked into an open room and were surprised to see some life.
Not life-life; the kind of room that feels like it's been lived in. Similar to outside the room, there were twin bookshelves in the far corner next to a window overlooking the vast expanse of stars and nothingness. Next to them was what appeared to be a relic of an armchair with a noticeable dent in the cushion.
The larger than king size bed was draped with gray and white throw blankets, comforters, and pillows. On the bed laid a perfectly wrapped gift box with a letter attached to the tight black ribbon detail. You felt nosy and took the liberty to investigate. Your fingers gently opened the small card attached and revealed your name delicately addressed.
"Y/n, I certainly wish I were there to properly welcome you. Unfortunately, I've been suddenly called away on necessary First Order business. I hope you can forgive me, kitten. I've left a small surprise for you in the package, along with a card so you can purchase anything you may need on the ship. I simply can not wait to lay eyes on you. Armitage."
🐎📚ᑎEᗯ ᖇEᒪEᗩᔕE📚🐎 the Tryst (Bluegrass Empires, Book #3) by Sawyer Bennett 𝕚ᔕ ᑎᗝW ᗩᐯᗩ𝕚ᒪᗩ𝔹ᒪᗴ!! 𝔹ᗴ ᔕUᖇᗴ tᗝ ᖇᗴᗩᗪ Tanya's 𝔹ᗝᗝᛕ ᖇᗴᐯ𝕚ᗴW!! 🎧audio book🎧is available in Sawyer Bennett’s store! ஜீ𝒢𝑒𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒷𝑜𝑜𝓀 𝒯𝒪𝒟𝒜𝒴ஜீ
New Release from Sawyer BennettThe Tryst (Bluegrass Empires, Book #3)
Synopsis:
As the middle son, Trey Blackburn dedicates his days to the family business, working to ensure that they remain at the top of the Saddlebred industry. His time away from the farm is another story. Not one to get tied up in a long-term relationship, he’s the love ‘em and leave ‘em sort of guy. But Trey’s hesitation…
I have nothing to say, really, except that even if this Fan Fiction is saying goodbye, I assure you that I'm not saying goodbye to creating stories and putting out my work. If anything, this is just the beginning of another chapter. As always, I wish you have enjoyed reading this throughout these years; loved these characters as I love writing them, and yes, may they continue to live on within our hearts. ;)
I made you my love, and it come in form of a rare bead
Which you wear in the heart of your hearts
Where memories fall and rise, play and replay in ecstacy
My own joy is not built upon your beautiful face,
I am graced to have a soul refined, pure and pretiful
Permit me to write this poem upon your back
Let my pen be your guest this evening of wonderful airs
Throw…
In the early evening rain
I leave the vault
and walk into the city
of lamentations, and stand.
I think it is September, September.
Where are you, Josephine?
It is one minute until you must appear,
draped in a grass-green serape,
shorter than most people,
more beautiful, baleful...
pressing a hand to my forehead,
slipping into my famished pocket
the elixir, the silver needle.
