Beach Baby

by Lynn Lake

  “Care to dance?”

  What? I glanced at the dance-floor. Most of the girls were dancing in the same tight cliques they maintained at work – a barrier against outsiders like me. Was Danielle insane or simply trying to upstage everyone else and humiliate me? Out on the dance-floor I would be even more exposed.

  I shook my head. “I don’t.”

  “Nonsense! Those ruby slippers were made for dancing.”

  Danielle grabbed my hand, pulled me reluctantly onto the dance-floor. I was petrified! Everyone stared, including Barry and Sandi. I’ve always disliked people looking at me. Wallflowers stay shy of the glare of publicity. We tend to hover on the periphery, blend in to the shadows. Under no circumstances do we venture into the limelight – never! Danielle sensed my discomfort. “Ignore them.” That was easy for her to say. She had legs that reached her armpits. Mine barely left the floor.

  I shuffled them anyway, but I was too self-conscious to relax. Next to Danielle my movements appeared stiff and wooden. She danced with the self-assured confidence of a beautiful woman. Beside her I looked even more hideous than usual! I was confused why she had chosen me to dance with. Often girls befriend me to make themselves look good. Danielle had no need of such underhand tactics. I didn’t know then that she had an ulterior motive. Office tattle had her marked as a lesbian. She must have heard the gossip, although malicious tongues didn’t seem to bother her. If anything, she walked taller, an amused smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. I had dismissed the rumours as just that. Now though, I felt a little concerned. Why had she singled me from the crowd? It didn’t help that as we danced Danielle studied me intently. I had to fight the feeling that she was hovering close like a graceful vulture. I grew suddenly anxious. I liked my new job, wanted desperately to make friends even though I already knew I didn’t fit in. Association with Danielle could only exasperate the situation. I briefly caught her gaze and something in her eye made me uneasy. Recognition perhaps? All of a sudden I wanted to lose myself in the throbbing mass of dancers, to hide from prying eyes – to hide from Danielle.

  Yet, there was no escape. It would be like running from a lone wolf towards the pack. Instead I lost myself in the music. Actually, it felt good to be out of the house, away from Mother and the constant tension that had existed between us ever since I had moved back home, tail between my legs. We had argued before I left. Mother didn’t approve of parties, didn’t approve of dancing, disdained life in general. The music played relentlessly, all the while Danielle watching me too closely, her penetrating stare making me ever more uncomfortable. I wished for the music to stop. At least then I could make some excuse, break free from the intensity of her gaze. Mother always says to be careful what you wish for. The dance music did stop then, only to be replaced by a slower ballad. The change in tempo was too abrupt for most and the dance-floor became strewn with self-conscious bodies trying to slink into the surrounding darkness. Danielle smiled. “Don’t you hate it when they do that?”

  I was too intent on escape to reply. I made to leave the dance-floor, to follow the herd. Danielle was too quick for me, again caught hold of my arm, stopped me in my tracks. She placed her hands on my hips, turned me towards her, continued to dance, swaying gently to the music, moving ever closer like a hunter after her prey. I was thrown off guard by her persistence, by her closeness, by her sweet perfume. By now most of the other girls had left the dance-floor or had been collared by one of the lads. For once, I fared no better. Danielle drew me into her web like an unsuspecting fly and once she had me she was reluctant to let go. So, I danced on, my only alternative an inelegant dash for safety. Thankfully the lighting had dimmed significantly, leaving the dance-floor in virtual darkness. Surely, no one would notice? No one would pay attention?

  Still, I hardly dare look at Danielle as we danced together in slow rhythm. Instead, I found myself absently staring at the floor, downwards at long legs, at smoothly gyrating hips moving sensuously in time to the music. I looked up quickly when I realised I had become hypnotized by them – directly into those captivating blue eyes. If anything, they were brighter now. I could feel them boring deep into my soul. Danielle moved closer still, so close I felt her breasts pressing gently against my own larger bust. I swallowed nervously, my throat impossibly dry, although my palms were moist and tingling. Then, with calculated ease Danielle placed both her hands firmly on my bottom, claimed me as her own. Despite the deliberate and slow movement I jumped, my mind lagging by several seconds. “What’s wrong? Never danced with a girl before?”

  I didn’t answer, couldn’t answer. If only Danielle knew how desperate I was for physical contact – for contact of any kind. Maybe she did. Maybe my desperation was that obvious. It was certainly such that I didn’t complain, didn’t pull away, didn’t care who watched. For a time I danced like a string-puppet, my arms limp and awkward at my sides. I shuffled my feet slowly but my mind raced, trying to catch up with events out of my control – uncertain what to do. Then, still in a state of indecision, I felt sure hands grasp mine, place them on Danielle’s pert bottom in a mirror image of her own embrace. They shot to Danielle’s waist as if her bottom were the burning fires of Hell. Actually, I had danced with other women before – at ballroom classes where there was often a shortage of male students. This felt completely different. Danielle stood too close, her contact too sure. She was embracing me, encouraging me to reciprocate.

  Suddenly, her cheek was against mine, her pretty mouth close to my ear, “You’re so sexy,” she whispered. I danced on in stunned amazement. Had I heard her correctly? No one had ever proclaimed me sexy. I willed Danielle to whisper the words again, to shout them aloud for all to hear. It felt so good to be wanted. The dance-floor was still in relative darkness, muted shapes shuffling, gyrating all around, yet I felt as if a spotlight shone directly on Danielle and me, searching with its powerful eye, picking me out from the darkness, pointing its long finger – look, there she is! There’s the fat lesbian.

  I was broken from my reverie when I felt Danielle press her body sensuously against mine. I felt guilty then as if I had somehow stolen her affection. I had obviously sent out the wrong signals and would have to set Danielle straight. Later. After this one dance. She felt too warm to resist, so soft I could not let go. I pulled her closer, felt invigorated by my bravado – excited even – more excited than I had felt in a long time, more excited than I cared to admit. Danielle seemed to melt into my body, gently directed me with her hands, encouraging me to sway my hips in time with the music. She was playing me like a marionette and I followed willingly. Our eyes met often. I knew she wanted me, but did she know how she made me feel? For the first time in my life I felt desirable. Tonight of all nights! One dance, I reasoned. What harm could one dance do? The music played on and in my dream state what could only have been a matter of minutes seemed like blissful hours. I didn’t want it to end. I was lost in time and space and when the music stopped, I was surprised by the depth of my disappointment.

  “Dorothy?”

  The question made me start and I realised with horror that the lights had gone up. Lost in the moment I had continued dancing with my eyes closed, soaking up the intimacy missing from my life. I felt confused and disorientated, unsure what to do next. It was as if I floundered in a sea of jumbled emotions, the turbulent waters dragging me ever deeper. I searched the horizon for my supposed workmates, for some lifeline of support. They looked on as bemused as I. No one came to my rescue, not even Barry. Then they were gone, had again closed ranks, and I realised in that instant that I no longer cared.

  Danielle smiled, squeezed my hand and then headed towards the bar, her stride so confident it was almost a swagger. I followed in a daze, my legs weak and unsteady.

  We settled at a small table in a secluded alcove away from the dance-floor and prying eyes. I sipped my drink nervously, enjoying the cool feeling as the iced liquid soothed my parched throat. The dancing had made me so hot. Or was it Danielle? I felt a
bead of perspiration run down my throat and disappear between my cleavage, watched as Danielle follow it with her hungry eyes. “I’m not a lesbian!” I blurted rather louder than I intended. A group of young men standing close by fell silent and turned to stare at the plain girl in the curious outfit. They gave me their usual brutal appraisal before moving away, sniggering to themselves. I blushed, my cheeks glowing so hot I felt as if I were on fire.

  Danielle found it impossible to suppress a chuckle. “I know,” she answered matter-of-factly, “and strictly speaking I’m not either.”

  “It’s just you... I thought...”

  “I do fancy you. It’s just that I generally prefer so-called straight girls. Most lesbians expect meaningful relationships, whereas I’m just in the market for some hot pussy.” Danielle waited while my cheeks turned a brighter red. I was certain she was revelling in my embarrassment. I wasn’t used to people being quite so frank about sex. None of my acquaintances talked so openly. “Anyway, I prefer to corrupt innocents such as you,” Danielle continued softly, “it’s deliciously debauched. You’ve probably guessed that I didn’t approach you by chance. I’ve been watching you all evening, ever since the outfit caught my attention.”

  “Oh...”

  “Oz is one of my favourite films. I’ve always had a perverse fantasy about getting into Dorothy’s knickers. Perhaps you understand now why I’m so looking forward to making you come on my fingers.” She held out her hands in an act of supplication. “What can I say? Beneath this angelic exterior is a wicked witch trying to get out!” She smiled warmly and despite my unease, I couldn’t help but smile also. “Beautiful smile,” she whispered. She was definitely toying with me. This was some sort of mating game she liked to play.

  “I’m engaged!” I lied lamely, as if merely uttering the words provided a magic barrier capable of diverting Danielle’s unwanted attention. As soon as the words left my mouth, I realised how childish and naive I sounded.

  “All the better. You’re more likely to put up a spirited fight. I do love it when you girls wriggle so. It gets me hot – gets us both hot! I can already feel the heat spreading deep between my legs. If we’re not careful I’m going to burn your tongue.”

  Outrageous! I couldn’t believe such words could come out of Danielle’s pretty mouth. Dirty language generally made me uncomfortable, yet this beautiful woman with the foul mouth intrigued me. I was certain her shock tactics were designed to be deliberately controversial. “Oh, don’t worry Dot, I’m not going to eat you – not yet anyway! But I am going to get into your knickers, if not tonight, then soon.”

  “Never!” I said with more confidence than I felt.

  “Good girl! That’s the spirit. But are you so certain? I have an intuition about these things. Intuition borne from experience. I’ve met many lonely girls like you. Outwardly defiant and proud. Ultimately weak and willing.”

  “I’m not –”

  “– a lesbian. You’ve made that quite clear. No, Dot, you are something far more special. You’re a submissive little tart. I on the other hand am a domineering witch. We two are opposites drawn towards each other. Can you feel it? It’s a powerful, intoxicating attraction. I’m going to make you my love bitch!” Danielle paused, searched my face for some reaction, but I was too stunned to say or do anything. “I can ease your sense of alienation, Dot. Search your heart; you know it to be true. Beneath your false bravado is a little girl just pining for a good spanking.”

  “Spanking? Now wait –”

  “Of course, you’ll deny your feelings for some time, but deep down you already know the truth.” I shook my head, turned away. “Look at me, Dot. Look at me!” I looked into the piercing blue eyes of my tormentor and I knew that Danielle could see the truth. I desperately wanted to prove her wrong. She knew I was weak; somehow sensed I was looking for someone stronger to guide me, knew that I needed a firm hand. It was too late to deny it, that one pathetic look told her all she needed to know. She was a hunter after all, a bully like all the rest. There was no point fighting now – she knew. She knew!

  I looked up and caught Danielle smiling to herself. “I have my claws in you, Dot, it is inevitable now that you will give yourself to me. I excite you. Why do you think that is? The idea of me forcing you to do something wicked against your better judgement?” Danielle edged around the table, leaned in close, whispering into my ear. “Is there a dirty girl hiding behind that innocent facade? Does she want to come out and play with Danielle? I bet you’re wet right now just thinking about it. Are you wet, Dot? Nasty, wicked Danielle is going to force her way into your knickers and the idea is making you wet with anticipation!”

  “Stop it. Stop it!”

  “Come now, I’ve been through this charade before. You pretend you are horrified, but inwardly you want me to take you, want me to use you, want me to lead you down the path of temptation.”

  I felt sick to my stomach. The horror was Danielle was right. I wanted this. The verbal taunts were part and parcel of the seduction. An essential part of the foreplay. It raised the level of anticipation until the tension was at breaking point. Hers was a dangerous game. I knew Danielle would lead me out onto the parapet, would push and push until there was nowhere else to go except over the edge. Yet, only I could jump.

  “I thought you liked me?”

  “I do, Dot, I do! That’s why I don’t want you to be ashamed of who you are.”

  I was unable to decide what to do. I stared intently at the melting ice cubes in my glass, slowly jiggling them like tealeaves, trying to divine their meaning. There was no reason to stay, every reason to leave. I felt out of my depth, felt like a naughty schoolgirl caught somewhere I knew I shouldn’t be. I looked directly into Danielle’s eyes, searching for reassurance. “I’m frightened.”

  “That’s okay, Dot. I understand. Truly, I do.”

  I found sanctuary in the Ladies’ cloakroom, thankful for once that it was busy. All of the cubicles were engaged, so I headed for the sink at the far end of the room, turned on the tap, splashed cold water onto my face. I felt so hot! I had never met anyone as outrageous as Danielle, and although her words were appalling I was more shaken that I found her direct manner arousing. I admit I was flattered. For anyone to find me attractive – man or woman – felt agreeable, especially so when my admirer was someone as beautiful as Danielle. All the same, no good could come of it and besides, surely Danielle was only toying with me? It was time to end the titillation. I looked at myself in the mirror. The bright-eyed girl who stared back was not as plain as I remembered, not as fat. Still, why would Danielle want me? There were conventions to follow, rules to obey. Wallflowers went home alone. We fell asleep crying or made love to our hand. Only rarely were we rescued.

  I fished in my handbag for my make-up, paying little attention to the bustle taking place around me. Then I stood adjusting my hair, reapplying lipstick that didn’t need improving. I didn’t usually bother, so knew it was merely a delaying tactic, an excuse not to return to Danielle. I needed time to think! My mind was still a whirl of confused emotions. Danielle seemed intent to have me whatever I said or did. Thinking about that only made me tremble. I was disgusted, intrigued, frightened, and excited all at once. My hand shook so badly I had to give up trying to apply eyeliner. I took a deep breath, tried to calm the butterflies constantly in flight inside my stomach, held onto the edge of the sink for support, adrenaline pumping through my body. I felt exhilarated. To think! Someone wanted me badly enough they were prepared to just take me.

  I hurriedly packed away my make-up, ran more water into the sink, bending once more to splash cold water onto my face, enjoying the cooling freshness against my heated flesh. When I raised my head, Danielle was standing beside me. I don’t know why her presence was so unexpected. All the same, she made me start. She smiled at me wolfishly, the hunger in her eyes abundantly clear. I let out a pathetic whimper, certain she intended to devour me there and then. The path to the exit lay clear, yet I felt tra
pped. I looked about nervously. Several of the cubicles were still engaged, though I felt certain now that no one could save me.

  I watched helplessly – like a rabbit caught in the full glare of a car’s headlights – while Danielle placed her hands on my hips and drew me close. She kissed the nape of my neck and if such a thing were possible in the twenty-first century, I swooned. I felt as if my heart had stopped, as if all the air had deserted my lungs. My legs gave suddenly and I had to lean into Danielle to stop myself from falling. Then, still in my dream-state, I watched as she reached around me and placed her hand on my breast. Danielle observed my reaction in the mirror, her eyes glued to mine. I stood transfixed as she undid the bib of my dress, fingered and played with the buttons at the opening of my blouse. “Do you like watching?” she whispered against my ear.

  I couldn’t answer. I had no will of my own, had no control over my body. I had lost the facility to speak, lost the will to move, to struggle, to resist. Instead, I stared at my reflection as Danielle slowly undid one and then a second button of my blouse. She tugged the folds apart, laid waste to my bra, the material showing no more resistance than I. I wanted to shout out. I wanted to scream. I didn’t. I couldn’t. The best I could manage was a slow, breathless moan as she reached inside and cupped my naked breast, catching my nipple deftly between her fingertips. The nipple stiffened and grew at her touch. Danielle’s hand felt so cool, so soothing against my burning flesh that I could find no reason to complain. Then her other hand joined the first, cupped and squeezed my other breast. This time my moan was louder, less guarded. I continued to watch with narcissistic fascination as Danielle’s nimble fingers undid the third and final button of my blouse and set my porcelain-white breasts free. And like a porcelain doll I still hadn’t moved, still hadn’t raised any objection. I couldn’t believe I was allowing Danielle to undress me in public. The whole situation became surreal – became my worst nightmare, my best fantasy. Danielle continued to knead both breasts with practised hands while I watched, fascinated as her red-tipped fingers worked their magic. I became a stranger in my own body. Surely, these breasts weren’t mine, these alien feelings surging through my loins did not belong to me.