“Ha! Come on, it couldn’t have been that bad.”
“He was tiny! And…weird! And…smelled like burritos.”
“Was he Hispanic?”
“No. At least, not that I could tell. But he did seem to have a fascination with the chupacabra.”
“What the hell is that?” Mona asked.
“I Googled it after he left. The translation is… No, no, no. It’s too embarrassing,” I cried, pounding my forehead against the counter.
“I’ve got it up on Wiki right now. It’s uh, um… Goat sucker? Christine! That’s just—”
“I know,” I snapped. “Beyond disturbing.”
Mona laughed hysterically into the receiver, which made me thump my head back down. After her laughter subsided, she chimed, “Okay, Christine. I think it’s time I take you to the club.”
“No. No more of your suggestions. I’ll just go to the rectory on Bingo night and find a good man there. As it is, I’m pretty sure the eighties haven’t come full circle yet. People were staring at me on the street—”
“Chris. No. What were you wearing?”
“I’m not telling. I’m just gonna—”
“Meet me at the corner of Columbus and York tomorrow night, wearing something simple. We’ll go to a club called The Black Orchid. Plenty of men our age willing to show a girl a good tim—”
“A good time? Mona…” I said, accusatory.
“No, no, no. It’s a totally legit thing. No prostitution. No bondage. And no small mythical creatures with large teeth.”
We laughed, and wrapped up our conversation after agreeing on eight o’clock the next night.
~*~*~*~
“Whoa!” Jake whistled. “Where are you off to?”
I giggled, trying not to make eye contact with Watson stirring next to Jake on the couch. Both boys looked me over, and while Jake looked proud and happy, Watson’s face was harder to read.
“I’m going out with an old friend.” I blushed. “But I’ll be home early. Just an hour or two.”
“Is this old friend…a guy?” His eyebrow quirked.
Watson hung his head low, keeping his ear slanted in my direction, anticipating my answer.
“No, honey. Just an old girlfriend from high school. I’ll be back before eleven.”
I saw Watson sigh and his shoulders drop. After giving Jake a kiss goodbye, I got in my car and headed downtown.
~*~*~*~
I stood in the long line that traveled around the corner of York Avenue. When I looked around, there were several middle-aged, good-looking people standing in line, waiting to get in. But the club must’ve been at capacity, because the line was delayed in inching forward.
I glanced up at the large, dark building. It stood about four stories, with more doors than windows. Black brick, it loomed over the city street, begging for you to stare at it; and the neon sign on the corner was classy with an elegant script.
Peeking down the alley, I saw a bouncer standing at an alternate entrance into the club. Score! I casually looked at the people around me and snuck out of line, padding my way toward the back of the building.
It’s gonna take Mona forever to get into this place, but at least I can get good seats. The bouncer was a large man, with a graying beard down to his chest. He looked at my attire and scratched his chin. “Have fun,” he mumbled.
“Thanks!” I replied and found my way through the dark hallway into the bar. It was a lot smaller inside than it looked outside, and I quickly understood how this place could’ve been at capacity already. Pulling up a stool against the bar, I signaled the bartender and he walked to me.
“What’ll it be, beautiful?”
I giggled. “Um, white wine spritzer, please.”
A loud laugh bellowed from his chest. “Sorry, beautiful. It’s beer, tequila, whiskey, or rum. Take your pick.”
That’s disappointing. “Oh. Hmmm. Well then, do you have any Coke?”
“Yes, but that’s in the back room.”
“Oh.” I looked toward the back hallway and saw people flowing in and out, laughing and having a good time.
“Just give me a shot of rum then, and I’ll get my Coke back there.” I smiled as he nodded. After setting a full shot glass on the counter, he winked. “That’ll be four bucks.”
I put a five on the counter and told him to keep the change, after stealing a wedge of lime from his stash. Just as I was about to go into the back, a large leather-vested chest appeared to my right, startling me back to my seat. I would’ve spilled my shot, but I was able to balance it bringing my other hand underneath it.
“Hello,” the man said. His voice was deep, guttural, and oozed out from his throat like Sam Elliott’s. To look at him, his voice didn’t match his body. In his late fifties, he was tall, but seemed to have a fetish for leather, as his entire body was covered in it. The smell was pungent, that smoky aroma that accompanies a new Coach purse or pair of boots.
I smiled and glanced around at the other patrons, now realizing that most of them had some sort of leather garb on. Some it was just a black hat, but others were draped in it from head to toe.
Mona didn’t tell me this was a biker bar.
“Whatcha doin’ here, sweetheart?”
“I just noticed…” I began, looking down at my pink cardigan and black jeggings with a nervous smile. “…I don’t exactly fit in, do I?” Laughing nervously, I stood, feeling suddenly intimidated by his height—not to mention the oil that he’d used to polish is outfit was making my head spin a little.
“No worries, sweetie. We get a lot of newbies curious about our club here. Would you like the grand tour?”
“Well, I’m waiting for a friend. But I’d love some Coke.” I raised my rum, smiling.
His eyes opened a little wider. “Well, the Coke is back where the parties are at.” He nudged his chin toward the back hallway.
“Yes! I hear that’s the place to be. Seems as though people are really enjoying themselves back there.”
He scratched his chin, looking down at my clothes again. “Well, the heels can stay, but we’re gonna have to get you a costume if you want to fit in back there.”
“A costume?” I asked. “Like, a nurse? Or Princess Leia? A cat?”
“The tiger costume might be available, but I think we might have something else back there that you’ll feel comfortable in. I’ll have Shelly help you out.” He winked. “I’ll send her out.”
While he walked away, I looked down to my phone. No missed calls. Technically, Mona was only seven minutes late, but since I knew the line was long, I figured she was still waiting to get in. Sucker. She’s gonna miss the party.
Wanting to tell Mona of the back entrance, I began texting, but was interrupted by Shelly.
“Hey there. I’m Shelly.”
I canceled my text and shoved my phone in my purse. Shelly was interesting, indeed. She had enough metal on her face to be stopped at any airport, and the ink on this girl was amazing—a bit much for my taste, but the flower artistry was beautiful.
“Hi, Shelly. I’m Christine,” I said, smiling.
“Of course you are. Gary told me to give you the full tour.” She eyed me suspiciously and jerked her head, signaling me to follow her. “Come on. What size are you? About an eight?”
“Good guess! How’d you—”
“I do this all damn day, sweetheart. So, what’ll it be?” she asked, turning toward me before we entered a room in the back. The sign on the door said Dressing Room. “Furries, Leather, Superheroes, Celebrities…” She continued, counting each word on her fingers. “Ghouls, Vampires, Fairytales…”
“Why don’t we just go with leather? That seems to be pretty popular,” I said.
“You got it.” She opened the door and there were racks of different costumes on display. She quickly grabbed an outfit from the size eight section and threw it down on the couch. “Here you go. Try this. When you’re ready, you can go to suite 104. That’s three doors down the hall on
your right. Understood?”
I laughed, still holding the rum in my hand. “Good. Where’s the Coke?”
“It’ll be in suite 104.” She sighed and shook her head, tugging at the three steel rings poking out of her bottom lip. “Good luck. Oh, and you can put your purse and other clothes in one of the lockers over there,” she said, walking out the door.
~*~*~*~
I twisted and contorted my body, trying to squeeze my hips past the reigns of the corset, but once I secured it in place I was feeling great. My breasts were lifted, firm, and I thought it was a shame I hadn’t thought about using one of these until now.
Oh, how fun! A costume party!
I slipped on the black fishnets and pleather shorts Shelly had provided me, and slipped on my black heels. Giving my reflection a wink, I shuffled out the door with my shot glass and wedge of lime in tow.
I knocked once on the door to suite 104, but no one answered. I slowly turned the knob and peeked in, hoping to see the room filled with others ready to show off their costumes, but the room was empty.
Hmmm. I must be early. Ah, just the way I like it.
The small room was barely lit. The lighting source was unidentifiable, but it seemed to bounce from the ceiling, giving the room an ambient glow. Two couches, two chairs, a black rug, and a coffee table sat in the center of the room. The walls were concrete, giving it an edge—like The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air meets The Addams Family.
I heard shuffling outside the door, and the knob began to turn. Setting my glass on the table, I parked my butt on the sofa and crossed my legs.
A man walked in slowly and shut the door behind him. When he turned, I was pleasantly surprised with what I saw. In his mid-thirties, he stood about six feet. His hair was dark and disheveled, and his face was young and clean shaven. He also chose to go with a leather costume. No shirt, but leather chaps and a collar.
I can work with this.
“Hello, mistress.”
I laughed. Mistress?
“Hello,” I said, setting my elbow on the couch’s armrest.
“Shall we begin?”
I looked around the room, not sure what he meant. My brow puckered and I scratched my forehead. “Ah, um…”
“Oh, good.” He sighed. “You’ve never done this before, either?”
“No! But I’m having a lot of fun! When do the others get here?”
“Others?” he asked, the corners of his mouth turning downward.
“Well, this is a party, isn’t it?”
He walked toward me, stopping a few feet from the couch. “Well, it can be.” One eyebrow rose. “But I didn’t pay for a ménage session.”
“Pay? What?”
“Here.” Throwing something on the couch next to me, he winked and turned around, fumbling with items on the table in the corner.
I studied the object in my hand. The handle was thick and porous; the leather looked old and worn, but the dangling strings and crusty feathers at the end were darker, with a sheen to them. I wasn’t sure what to do with it, but all I could think it might be used for was a flogging.
Oh, shiiiit.
I looked back up at the man, who was now draped over the edge of the couch, with his bare ass sticking up in the air. I could see his scrotum squishing against the arm of the couch and his eyes were fixed on mine. In his mouth was a red rubber ball that he had securely fastened around the back of his head.
I stood, recklessly knocking my shot of rum over onto the rug.
“Arg we gekking don to bidness?” he tried to speak with the ball invading his mouth.
“What! No!” I threw the whip thing back on the couch and marched for the door.
How humiliating! Mona, I’m gonna kill you. This is beyond embarr—
“Wait, mistress. Please, please don’t go,” he said, after removing the ball from his mouth.
“You’re horrible!” I hollered.
“Yes!” he shouted.
“Despicable!”
“More! Yes!”
Oh, no! I gotta get out of here!
“Call me naughty, too!” he shouted again.
I shook my head and grabbed the handle.
“Please, mistress. Don’t make me beg. Please! Just one good smack is all I need. Don’t leave me like this.”
“Dammit!” I marched back over to him, annoyed and embarrassed. I grabbed the thing—whatever it was—and pretended his ass was Mona’s face. The fact that ball-faced-scrotum boy was asking for it only fueled my fire.
I gave him three hard thwacks on his ass, and as the whip flew back after the last, it grazed my chin. I flinched and took a step backward, disgusted with the fact that I’d just given this pervert what he wanted, or with the fact that the flogger had previously been on his asshole—and likely several others. I winced and marched back toward the door.
Walking toward the dressing room, I bumped into Shelly. “I brought your Coke.” Shelly lifted her hand with a small plastic bag, waving it in the air.
“Jesus! What is this place?”
I heard her laugh as I shoved past, and got undressed as quickly as I could. Just as I was opening the door to race out, Shelly stopped me. “Christine, there you are. Gary says you haven’t paid yet. A hundred bucks.” She held out her hand, smiling.
“What? I’m not paying a hundred dollars!” I shoved past her into the hallway.
“Was the experience not what you’d had in mind?” I heard her say as I began a light jog toward the entrance.
The air outside was a welcome change from the thick odor of leather, oil, and sex from inside the club. The Black fucking Orchid. Dammit, Mona!
I turned the corner and saw Mona at the main entrance to the building. Stomping my way toward her and pointing my finger, I screamed, “What the hell are you trying to do to me?”
Her shoulders hunched and her hands flew up. “What are you talking about? I’ve been looking for you everywhere! Don’t you answer your texts, calls?”
“I’ve been inside that damn place for the past hour,” I yelled again, now just a few feet in front of her.
“I’ve been in there too. Where were you?”
“In the ‘back.’ Attending a cozy party for two. With leather and whips! Dammit!”
“Chris, what happened to your chin? It’s all red and swollen!”
I bent over on the side of the street, trying to catch my breath from marching and screaming. “Why didn’t you tell me what kind of club this was? I was scared to death!”
“What do you mean? It’s a dance club, Chris. Where the fuck were you?”
“In there.” I pointed toward the alley. “When I saw the line, I decided to go in through the back entrance.”
She shook her head. “There is no back entrance, Chris. Here…” She grabbed my hand and yanked me down the sidewalk. “…show me.”
When we got to the end of the alley, I pointed toward the bouncer with the gray beard. “Right there.”
Mona’s eyes went wide. “No, you didn’t.”
“Oh yes, I did.”
Her chin began to quiver and she grabbed her stomach. And before I knew it she was bent over, laughing hysterically on the sidewalk. She couldn’t even breathe, let alone speak. I waited patiently until her chuckle fit ended.
Once again—laughing at the naïve, ignorant, stupid one.
“That’s The Dark Side, Chris. A to-ta-lly different kind of club. I don’t think much dancing goes on in that place.”
“Yeah, no shit!”
“You can not pin this on me,” she retorted, still chuckling.
I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest. “So humiliating, Moan.”
“Aw.” She wrapped her arm around my shoulder and tugged me toward the parking garage. “Come on, Indiana Jones. Let’s go get us some food.”
Chapter Nine
The next evening, I had just finished cleaning up my dinner plate when I turned to the sound of my front door opening and closing. Expecting Jake, I felt my s
mile slowly fade when Watson walked in. I choked on my words, unable to find my voice. But after I willed my heart rate back to a reasonable speed, I finally muttered, “Where’s Jake?”
Watson stood staring at me, smirking, with his hands loosely in his jean pockets. He slowly unzipped his jacket and shrugged it off his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor.
I took a step backward, trying to distance us even farther, but the thick cloud of immeasurable sexual tension consumed the space between us no matter how far back I stood. I was now backed up against the refrigerator, clutching my stomach while Watson remained at the front door.
Without a word he stomped quickly toward me, and I jerked my head to the side, still trying to find a way to move farther backward. But there was no place left to go. He stopped abruptly at the kitchen island and propped his elbows on the laminate countertop.
I opened one eye to find him ten feet in front of me. Taking a deep breath, I relaxed slightly, knowing that he was keeping his distance.
“Do I scare you?” he asked.
I nodded quickly. “A little.”
“That’s okay. You scare me too—”
“Hey, Ma! I’m home,” Jake called from the front door.
Watson smiled, never taking his eyes off mine. “Do you mind if I spend the night?” he asked, allowing the corner of his mouth to perk up while he scraped the countertop with his fingernail.
“Yeah, is that cool?” Jake asked. “Watson’s Jeep is in the shop,” he added, throwing his jacket on the railing. “I know it’s a school night, but since we live really close, it would be easier for me to drive us tomorrow from here—”
Oh, hell no! “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, honey,” I interrupted him.
Watson’s head flicked upward and Jake continued. “Ma, come on. There’s only a week left of school, and Jake needs help planning his valedictorian speech, anyway.”
“Valedictorian?” I shot my eyebrows upward, questioning Watson’s impressive title.
“Yes. Just announced today.” Watson nodded. “I need to come up with a ten-minute speech for graduation day. I was hoping that Jake could help me with it.”
“Please, Ma? His mom said it was fine.”
Forbidden Fruit Vol 2 Page 45
