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Kat and Brad
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
"I do not pay more attention to my cats then to you!"
"You aren't even aware of your own habits!"
God I was tired of this argument we'd been having in for the last
three weeks. Now sitting inside Harry's Bar, I had had enough.
"Look I can't talk about this one more time. I'm out of here. I'll
see you in the morning."
"Where are you going to go? To a hotel? That would be sweet!"
I left the bar without a backwards glance. My boyfriend could be
such a bitch! He stared after me as I walked out, I'm sure he thought I
would walk back to our appartment. Neither one of us could have known
what would happen.
It was uncomfortably cold out as I walked along the dimly lit
street. I was pissed and not a little buzzed. Damn him, his
life revolves around himself. If I'm not paying attention to
him something is wrong with me. I stomped on ignoring
the bums and the rude cat calls I got from the seventeen
year olds lurking outdoors for the first times in their
lives.
I was beginning to feel the cold. Shit.
A gray Cadillac Seville pulled up biside me. I walked
quicker. The driver sounded the horn. It was a slightly
gentile sound, even for 11:00 at night.
"Hey, Kat, wait up!"
Jesus even the weirdos know my name!
"Kat, stop, don't you recognize me?"
I looked closer. I did recognize him. He was a client
that came into the realestate company I worked at as a
secretary. We had spoken a few times and he seemed alright.
"Brad, hi how are you?" I couldn't force any interest into
my voice.
"Great, look what are you doing out here?"
Twenty questions, just what I needed.
"I'm walking, Brad."
"Well get in the car for godsake. I'll give you a ride
home. Don't worry, we'll go straight to your house."
That was all I needed.
"Alright thanks." I said it with less gratitude than
eunuch invited to his first bachelor party.
"Just a little down tonight?"
By his tone of voice I couldn't tell if he was being
facetious or what.
"Look you don't want to go home right now do you?"
This guy was bright.
"I know of a party going on close by, casual people, you
know, comfortable. What do you say we stop by for a while."
I looked at Brad more closely. He was forty if a day.
But he was the well-kept forty of a former athlete who went to
the gym four days a week to convince himself that he wasn't
loosing it.
"Sure, why not."
We drove past what I considered close by. Finally we
pulled up to a two and half story house set far back from the
road. The out side of the house was lit with soft red and
blue malibu lights.
There was the sound of jazz music dominated by soulful
saxophones in the night air.
"This is it," Brad said unnecessarily.
I was still in a bad mood.
We went up to the door. Brad opened it, apparently it was not the
type of party that you knocked at.
We went in.
The room was typical party. A light layer of smoke (this
was the nineties after all) and people crowded around each
other talking at once without listening at all. Brad
introduced me around then slipped away. I wondered about that,
but not too strenuously after my third glass of champagne.
I milled around talking for an hour or so, then it began to
occur to me that the faces were somewhat fluid. I mean they
were familiar, but not entirely so. The people I had spoken
to seemed to disappear for long periods of time no worse for
wear. Brad never rejoined me and I began to get miffed.
I noticed a girl Brad had introduced me to at the beginning
of the evening sitting alone on a leather couch. She seemed
quite contented to be there, with a vague smile at the cornors
of her soft mouth.
"Eva, have you seen Brad?" I was done with this party and
wanted to say a curt goodby to him.
"Yes--don't you know where he is?"
Her smile was soft, almost fearful as she looked up at me.
"No, I haven't seen him since I got here. I don't know
where he could be.
Her smile became stronger. Her attitude seemed to shift.
"Have you ever been to one of John Barclays' parties before?"
"No, I've never been in this part of town before."
It could have been my imagination, but it seemed to me
that her smile became a little bit stronger. I sat down on the
couch.
I'm sure it wasn't her doing, but the leather couch
seemed to fold our bodies closer together. Her hand fluttered
around her hair and came to rest casually, on my thigh. I
ignored it.
"I'm sure Brad's up in one of the rooms. Do you want me
to show you?"
It must have been my imagination, but I could have swore
I heard a challenge in her voice. I nodded my head.
Eva pushed herself off the couch, her hand still upon my
thigh. Her hand slid up, accidentally, and she gave no notice
that she brushed me.
It made me aware that I was damp there. Eva took two
steps and glanced over her shoulder, with the most natural air
she stuck the tip of her finger in her mouth and sucked on it.
I drew my breath but followed her.
I followed Eva into a hallway with closed doors. The
carpet was the mundane variety, but the sounds coming from
behind the closed doors were not. A high-pitched female
scream that could have been pleasure or perhaps not, echoed in
the hallway. This time, Eva ignored the obvious.
I began to feel a little bit nervous, but it was a
pleasant sensation, contrasted as it was with my day-to-day
life. I was sure, in my naivete that I would be able to back
out of whatever was in front of me. I was getting wetter.
Eva and I approached a stairway. She moved up gracefully
as if in her own home. I began to notice the quality of the
carpetting and the furnishings, and I clutched my fluted
champagne glass, the sixth of the evening, closer to my body.
We came to a landing larger than most rooms. It was
exquisite. It was a soft ivory complemented by a blue and
ivory silk wallpaper. There was a couch of matching blue silk
nestled in the landing and Eva indicated with a dismissive
air that I should wait there.
She was challenging me! I knew that she was manipulating
me, but my ego still had to respond.
"I'll follow you up, thanks."
Eva allowed herself the smile of a slave who's become a
master, to rest on her lips.
We mounted the rest of the stairs. The light from the
wall fixtures was very subdued, as if adjusted for
eyes that would have come out of a darker light.
The hallway consisted of closed doors, about five on
either side. We past the first door. No obscene noise
greeted us, just the soft, muted music from below.
Eva glanced back to see if I was following her. I gave her
my best impassive smile, which she returned with what must
have been her best "you ain't seen nothin' yet" grin.
We paused in front of what I took to be a mirror at first.
Reaching for a switch, Eva adjusted the light around us. The
"mirror" resolved into a one way window, behind which was one
of the most beautiful women I have ever seen was pacing. I
felt a momentary stap of sheer female jealousy looking at her.
Long black hair fell in curls down her back to her waist. Her
face, perfectly oval, needed no make-up or other tricks to look
luminous. She was tall for a woman, and looked even more so
because of the high black heels she was wearing. Oh! And what
she was wearing! It was a black negligee as they were meant to
be. Silky lace covered her body and melted into a sheer
black fabric that fell to her feet.
I looked away, feeling as if I was intruding on another's
privacy.
"Look", Eva commanded.
I looked.
A slender dark-haired man was entering the room. He was
dressed in a leaf brown robe made of shiny material, silk?
He didn't approach the woman and her pacing became more
agitated. He walked instead to a small bar inset to the far
wall.
"Who are these people?" I asked, whispering for no
apparent reason.
"Other guests like yourself who've come, or been brought
here for fun."
I was distracted. This kind of voyeurism made me
uncomfortable.
The man set down his glass and looked at the woman. She
stopped pacing, stopped moving at all, in fact. She watched him
as he crossed the room towards her.
He stopped within inches of her face. They stood staring at
each other, testing, challenging. Her eyes dropped first.
She backed way from him, her legs bumping againt the large
four poster bed that dominated the room. She shook her head
twice, as if she had just realized what she had lost by
dropping her eyes first.
She tried, in a flurry of black lace, to roll away from him
on the bed. He reached for her, easily grabbing her left
ankle and pulling her back across the satin bed spread. With
his left arm he pushed her body back onto the bed, with his
right he exposed her thigh. He reached down with his mouth
and kissed the exposed flesh.
She tried to squirm away and he grabbed a hand full of
black hair. She relented and he gave all his attention to the
thigh that had become his captive.
He sank down to his knees and divided his attention
between the two legs now exposed for his pleasure.
The woman's body relaxed. She began to move in rhythm
with the one his tongue had naturaly taken up. She pushed her
body towards his face, eager now to participate.
With his left arm he pushed her back, teasing her, giving
only as much as he wanted.
She snarled in frustration and violently pushed herself
away from him. Sitting back on her heels she regarded his
amused expression with malice. She launched herself forward
at him, too quick for him to respond. Helpless he found
himself beneath her. She moved quickly, angled his body to
the head of the bed, and snapped his left wrist in a handcuff
that had lay hidden in the covers. While he was recovering
from the shock of this turn around, she took his right wrist
and treated it the same as its brother.
The black haired women stood away from the bed to survey
what she had done. With two sure moves she secured his legs
in straps there for just that purpose.
Her smile was exquisite. Slowly she reached for his brown
robe, parting it at the chest.
Although the man was slender he was by no means small and
the chest she exposed was well muscled and strong. She leaned
her head over enough for her hair to brush his skin. He
smiled at her benevolently as the illusion of control still
rested in his brain.
She smile at him, and reached down to his chest with one
manicured fingernail. Still smiling she twisted one of his
chest hairs around her finger and pulled it out.
His grunt of surprise was inaudible, but expressed
completely on his face. The change in his position was
starting to dawn on him.
I looked over at Eva for her reaction. Her eyes were
trained on the glass.
"Watch", she commanded.
I did as she said.
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