Black

     I knew I should never have stayed behind.  But I did.  And sometimes when you're the last one to leave the party you're left to clean up the mess alone.
     The party had run a little bit longer than anyone had expected it to.  Ted had stayed home that night because he wasn't feeling well.  That was probably the first mistake that I had made, going to the party without him, but he kept telling me that I needed to go out and socialize because I had been staying inside reading too often.  Ted loves me very much.
     There was so much liquor there that night.  I hadn't really had any alcohol in a while, so I guess it hit me a little bit harder than it usually did.  I had about three glasses of champagne, a wine cooler and a shot of tequila.  I think the shot was what put me over the edge.  That was the second mistake. 
     I remember before I passed out that there were a few people left.  Someone had asked me if I wanted a ride home, but I declined.  John said that I could crash on the couch until I had slept it off or sobered up.  He even called Ted and let him know what was going on.  I felt safe enough to let sleep take me and that was my last mistake. 
     I woke up and I wasn't on the couch anymore.  I felt like my neck was about to break.  I had been pulled onto the floor, down on my knees.  Someone had taken my shirt off along with my bra.  They had their hands on both sides of my head and kept pushing me down on their cock which had been placed in my mouth.  I really only started to regain consciousness when I began to choke myself awake.  Ted hadn't touched me in months, so part of me knew that it couldn't be him.  But the other part of me--the stupid, illogical part of me--didn't seem to care and was all but tickled pink to be used in this fashion.  In fact, I was so out of it that I started helping. 
     His hands were over my ears, so between that and my drunken stupor I couldn't make out his voice very well.  But I could hear him say, "Ah, so she does like it" and "That's a good girl."  Every minute or so he would reach down and touch my chest roughly.  I felt flush all over.  But at the same time I was still exhausted.  I had my eyes closed most of the time, but I had flashes of skin and coarse, dark hair in my field of vision.  He kept moaning intermittently, but eventually I heard him say, "Here we go, baby.  Here's the money shot!"  He started stroking himself in front of me and put his thumb down on my lower lip to open my mouth.  He brought my chin up just a bit to get a better angle.  I opened my eyes wide when I saw who it was and that he had a camera strapped to his neck. 
     And then John came all over my face and my chest.

*****

     I was upset and belligerent after John cleaned me up.  I was still too out of it to put up much of a fight though.  He kept trying to calm me down and gave me a glass of water and what he said was an aspirin.  It wasn't an aspirin though, and I was out again. 

     When I finally woke up on the couch John was on the recliner across from me.  He had a glass of brandy in his hand and had been swirling it around in the glass when he noticed that I had woken up.

     "You know, you are certainly a wild young lady after you've had a drink or two," he told me looking over at my still exposed chest.  He could have put my clothes back on and tried to convince me that it had just been a bad dream, but he wanted me to know that I hadn't imagined anything.  He smiled and leered at me from his chair.  "You know, Ted has been one of my best friends for years and I wouldn't want to have to cause him any kind of pain."

     "Then what the fuck was all that about?" I asked him angrily.  I tried to yell, but the sound of my own voice made my head ache.  "You have got to be the sleaziest asshole on the face of the planet."

     "Oh?  Then why were you so intent on making me paint your pretty little face white last night?" he asked.  I was about to object when he casually pressed a button on the remote control and the television lit up with my face buried in his crotch.  "Oh, and here's my favorite part!  Look at your face right here!"  He was smiling from ear to ear with sadistic glee as the hot semen hit my face at the exact moment that I realized what had happened.

     "I thought you were Ted!  I never--"

     "Don't try and talk your way out of this one, Angela," he sneered.  "Ted, told me about your little indiscretion a few years ago.  He said that you broke his heart."

     "That was a long time ago and we had been separated for a few weeks.  I--"

     "I'm sure that if he saw anything like this it would absolutely shatter what was left of his heart.  And I'm sure that you don't want that.  I know that I don't want that.  Do you want that Angela?"

     "What the fuck do you want?" I asked him.  I could feel my face turning bright red.  "I only have a few hundred dollars saved up.  Just--"  And then the asshole started laughing.  For a full minute he laughed.  Apparently my comment had been a real knee-slapper.

     "Oh, God!  I don't need your money," he said jovially.  "But I'm sure we can come to some kind of agreement.  You'll notice that I didn't do anything else to you while you slept."

     "Yeah, you're a real fucking gentleman."

     "What I want," he said grinning like the Cheshire Cat, "is for you to beg for forgiveness."

     "Are you kidding me?" I asked him clearly miffed about getting face raped.

     "I'm as serious as a heart attack," he said flatly.  "Get on your knees and beg for my forgiveness or I send Ted a nifty e-mail with your performance here as an attachment."

     "You wouldn't."

     "I would.  You have five seconds."  And he glared at me with a dramatic stare.  "One."

     "No way."

     "Two."

     "Seriously, John.  Stop this!"

     "Three."

     "Come on!  This is ridiculous!"

     "Four."

     "I'm not going to--"

     "Five."  When I stayed put on the couch he simply looked at me and said, "Fine then."  And got up from his seat to go into the bedroom where his computer was. 

     I thought about what he said.  I loved Ted and didn't want to see anything bad happen to him.  And I had just lost my job at the cafe.  If Ted kicked me out I'd have to move back in with my mother.  Was a little piece of my already tattered pride worth it?  I sighed and got off the couch and walked down the hallway towards John.

     "Listen, John," I called after him.  "Please don't do this.  I'll do that thing that you asked me to do."

     I walked into the bedroom and wondered where he went.  Suddenly the door slammed behind me and John had me exactly where he had wanted me.  I looked at him coldly and got on my hands and knees.

     "Please, John," I said in an extremely deadpan tone.  "Please forgive me for... Uh... I'm not exactly sure what I'm forgiving you for."

     "For being such a dirty skank and cheating on my best friend Ted, of course."

     "Oh, I'm not saying that," I said getting off the floor.

     "That's alright, my price has gone up anyway."

     "Oh now we're bargaining?  Yeah, I'm out of here!"

     John blocked the doorway and looked at me menacingly.

     "You're not going anywhere unless you want me to send that tape."

     "Fine," I said bluntly.  "What do you want?"

     "Take off the rest of your clothes."

     "What do you want?  A strip tease?  Yeah, whatever.  Sure.  Then can I leave?"

     "Yes.  We have a deal," he said.

     I still wasn't in the best frame of mind, but I would have done about anything to get out of that room.  I unbuttoned my jeans quickly and kicked off my shoes.

     "Do it more slowly.  I don't get to see this everyday."

     I sighed angrily and did what he asked.  I stood there completely naked in front of him.  I don't do naked very well.  I was cold and could feel myself blushing through all of the anger.

     "It's alright," he said moving towards me.  "You know, I know that you haven't been taken care of in a long while.  I could tell when you were inhaling me below the belt earlier."  He reached out to touch me and I backed away.  In the process I tripped over my pants and landed on the bed.  "It's okay," he said soothingly.  "It's been a long time for me too.  Let me help you.  I'll be as gentle as you'd like me to be."

     "No," I told him backing away from him.  "Show Ted the damn video.  I'll tell him what a fucking psycho you are.  He'll believe me!"

     "If he'd believe you, then why are you naked in my bed?  Eh?  Just let me have this.  Let yourself have this.  It's just you and me.  No one ever has to know." 

     "You taped me with your dick in my mouth.  I think we're past no one having to know.  Just get out of my way and give me my clothes."

     He sighed a frustrated sigh and I finally thought that I was starting to get somewhere with him.  He bent down to grab my clothes as I sat on the bed, but when he came back up from the foot of the bed all he had was a towel.  He shoved it in my face and everything went black again.

     When I came to I could feel him inside of me.  Ted hadn't touched me there in forever.  And not like this in nearly a year.  I was on my hands and knees and he was taking me from behind.  A small sigh escaped my lips and he realized that I was awake.  He entered me even harder to show that he knew it and I screamed a bit.  He laughed as he kept fucking me.  Harder and faster.  I moaned a little.  I hated that part of me that was enjoying it. 

     I went to pull away and noticed that he had tied my wrists to my ankles with two dress ties.

     "Why the struggle?" he asked as he rammed himself into me.

     "This is wrong!  Why are you doing this?" I cried trying to keep my face from falling into the pillows.

     "Because you let me.  I've seen how you've looked at me before.  We both know you wanted this," he said through a few odd grunts.  "And you know," he said moving one hand slowly from my hip to my ass, "there is something that I've always wanted to do, but no self-respecting girl would ever let me try." 

     "Don't you dare!" I screamed knowing full well what he wanted to do.  But at that point he didn't give a damn about what I wanted.  He took his index finger and very matter-of-factly slid it into the hole that he wasn't currently having his way with.  My eyes got wide and I could feel everything tighten up around him.  He moaned a bit more.

     "Be careful, Angela.  I'm not wearing any protection you know.  We wouldn't want to have any accidents," he laughed. 

     "Are you insane?" I screamed back at him.  I tried to roll myself from side to side to get away from him, but there was no point.  The more I struggled the tighter he held me down. 

     "Well, fine then," he said still forcing himself inside.  "If you don't want to have my child then I guess there are some other options."  He pulled the finger out quickly and before I knew what was happening he jammed himself into the even tighter hole that his finger had just been in.  I screamed as he ripped into me.  I had never had anything in there before and it hurt worse than I could have imagined.

     "Shhh," he said pushing the last bit of himself in.  "I can make it all better.  I hear if you do it right it can be quite satisfying." 

     "Fuck you!" I yelled with a tone of defeat in my voice.  He continued to hold me down with one hand and reached around to my clit with the other.

     "No, fuck you," he purred and started rubbing my clit furiously as he pulled himself out and slowly pushed it all back in again.  In and out.  Faster on my clit and then faster inside of me.  I felt incredibly helpless at this point and just stopped fighting it. 

     "Mmmm, can you feel that, baby?  You are really starting to let me in!  I think you're gonna come for me, and your gonna come hard!"  He was right, but I wasn't about to admit that to him.  I just pressed my face into the pillow and let it happen.  I could feel my arms start to shake and then my legs and then my whole body.  "Yes!" he screamed.  "I knew I could make it happen that way.  You are such a good little whore."  I wanted so badly to collapse and disappear, but he held me up after I finished spasming with him inside of me.

     "So how's it gonna be sweet, sweet Angela?" he asked me, still moving fluidly inside.  "Do you want me to come here?  Or," he said pulling out and jamming himself in my pussy, "do you want me to come here?  You'd give me a beautiful baby, you know."

     "Please don't," I begged wearily.

     "So what does that mean?" he asked greedily.  "Tell me where you want it."

     "The other place," I cried out, panicking.

     "Say it," he said.

     "My ass," I pleaded.  I could feel the tears streaming down my eyes.

     "Say it," he barked.  "Beg me."

     "Please, John.  Please come in my ass!"

     And I sighed a sigh of relief when he stuck me with it one last time.  A few more wicked thrusts and  it was all over.  It was so tight that I could feel him empty himself out inside of me.  He pulled out and patted me on the back like I was some kind of horse that he had just finished riding.

     "What a good girl," he panted.  "So good."

     I completely lost it and just started bawling.  He didn't seem to mind.  He just sauntered off to the bathroom while I lay crumpled up on the bed like a used sock that had been left underneath some teenage boy's bed, still tied up and aching everywhere.  He was gone for quite a while.  And while he was gone it gave me some time to think. 

     He came back into the room about twenty minutes later as though he had forgotten about me. 

     "Now, I'm going to let you go, but first, let me show you what you helped me put together!"  And with that he turned me over and faced me toward the computer screen.  The bastard had (not surprisingly) filmed the entire thing.  "You know," he said casually, "you aren't the first and you won't be the last.  But you definitely had the best performance of them all.  I have a site that I like to sell these on.  People love the more realistic ones.  If it gets big I might be able to give you a share so you can get yourself something pretty."  He looked at me and he laughed again.  He just wouldn't stop fucking laughing.  It was then that I knew what I had to do. 

     "You are such an asshole!" I screamed as I fidgeted.  "Just untie me and give me my clothes!  I just want to go home to Ted!"  I was able to pull out a few more tears for him, but in reality I was all out of tears.  I was just pissed off.

     "Alright, but only since you were so good," he said patting me on the head.  "And since you were so good, I won't tell Ted!  It's a win for both of us."  He smiled eerily and undid the bonds from my legs and left the ties hanging around my wrists.

     I cleaned myself off in the bathroom and tried to wash what I could off of myself as quickly as possible.  I found that he had lay my clothes out for me in the bathroom. 

     "Hey, John," I called out to him.  "What's wrong with your shower?"  I wasn't sure if he was going to be that stupid, but apparently he was because he came into the restroom shortly after I called.  He didn't even say anything back to me, just looked at me with a stupid grin.  This wouldn't be as hard as I thought it would be.  "Can you check out the faucet?  It won't turn on all the way."

     And as he bent down to check it out I took one of the ties that was still around my wrist and wrapped it tightly around his neck.  I am not the strongest person in the world, but I was probably the angriest.  I pulled on that tie until I thought I was going to break my wrist from the pressure.  He struggled and kicked and gasped and cried, but none of that affected me in the least. 

     I was done fucking around.

     As I finally felt the last bit of life escape his body, I felt a serene calm about me. 

     Now the only problem was the clean up.  No one ever wants to stay behind and help out. 

Tunnel Vision

He woke up with pussy in his face--but not the good kind.  The cat had decided to sleep on his head again and he choked a bit on the fur she left behind.
"Damn cat," he muttered to himself. 
He muttered to himself quite often.  He lived alone in a tiny condo in a rather posh neighborhood in the suburbs.  It was expensive as hell, but he could afford it.  He didn't really have much time to spend his money on anything else anyway since he worked far harder than he played.  It had left a crimp in his social life, but he didn't really feel that he had much of a choice. 
"Jim," his father had told him at his college graduation, "this fancy degree of yours was not cheap, so I expect you will follow your ten-year plan.  I already have a job lined up for you at the bank with an old friend of mine.  I don't want to hear anymore of this art school bullshit."
And he didn't.
Jim Lachance was always standing in the shadows of all the other men in his family and he could tell that his father was always rather disappointed in him regardless of how hard he had tried to impress him.  He went to a prestigious business college like his father wanted yet his brother joined the military and became a goddamned hero.  His father was fast to forget that Jim had put his dreams on a permanent hiatus to appease him.
But he couldn't complain.  He was making insanely good money at a steady job, had a chance at making partner at his firm within the next year or two and... lived alone with his cat.  It had its perks but companionship was not one of them.
Every weekday he showered, got dressed in his three-piece suit, fed the cat and took the subway into the city to work.  The ride to work was definitely his favorite part of the day.  He would take a good book with him each day and most of the time he would actually read it.  But some days he was only pretending to read so that he could scope out the bevy of young women who might actually stop and say, "Oh my God, I love that book!  Perhaps we could discuss it further over coffee?" 
That hadn't ever happened.  Ever.
But it was okay, because if they weren't the kind of girl who wasn't interested in reading what he was reading, then they weren't worth his time anyway.  One of his favorite quotes was: "If you go home with somebody, and they don't have books, don't fuck 'em."  Although at this point he wasn't about to be too picky.
As an adult he had always gone for the lean, well-mannered, blonde girls, but he had been burned one too many times in the past.  And recently he hadn't been burned at all.  God, what he'd give to be burned!
Lately he had started looking at women that he hadn't considered looking at for years.  He was a thirty-something, white guy who was a little bit on the short side, but only a little. He tried to be as clean shaven as often as possible, but sometimes shaving took a backseat to sleep.  He was hoping that maybe he could find a lady who had a tattoo or a piercing... or a Catholic schoolgirl with a very short plaid skirt who was perpetually sucking on a lollipop... or you know, a Latin girl, whatever.  Nothing too specific.  Just someone he could have a good time with that wasn't going to leave him high and dry the next day.  There was a woman at the banking firm that he worked at that he had many a fantasy about, but she didn't seem the least bit interested and he felt that he lacked the social skills to approach her or any female.  He had all but given up, when on his way home that day he happened upon his dream girl. 
The train had passed through a tunnel and the crappy lights kept flickering like crazy.  She seemed to appeared out of nowhere after the train had emerged, sitting only a few seats away from him on the subway.  She had blue hair, in loose flowing pigtails that barely touched the tips of her perky little breasts which were covered up by a faded, black rock tee that had been cut down the front to show off her impeccable cleavage. She wore black and red checkered suspenders which were clipped onto a pleated, red plaid skirt that rested far below her hips and cut off well above the knee.  She was sporting some intense knee-high, platform combat boots with fishnet stockings and had a nose ring and a lip ring.  She had creamy tan legs, a creamy tan middrift and long, polished nails. And she was looking right at him.
He was going to be getting off in a few stops and was unsure if she was really looking at him or if she was eye-fucking some other guy behind him.  But as luck would have it, she made the first move.
"I couldn't help but notice that you're reading Fahrenheit 451" she told him in a bubbly voice as she floated over to him while the train stopped.  "That is my favorite Michael Moore documentary.  All those poor people!"
"Uh..." he started to correct her.  But she hadn't sat down quickly enough and as the train jerked back to life she toppled over into his lap.  She couldn't have fallen anymore perfectly. It was as if she had come over to get a spanking.  He turned about four different shades of red.  She giggled a bit and pushed herself up.
"Sorry about that," she said in a cheery tone.  "Mind if I sit next to you?" she asked without waiting for an answer.  "My name's Sally.  And you are...?"
"Oh, um, I'm Jim," he said nervously, clearing his throat and trying to regain his nerve. 
"I really like that you're actually reading on here.  Most people that take the subway are just kinda weird.  It's real refreshing, ya know?" he noticed that she was chewing gum in between words.
"Oh, well, uh, I guess I just really like to read!" he said unsure of what to say next, unable to make eye contact.
"I'm really into smart guys," she smiled at him devilishly.  "I'm going to a show in a few hours.  You wanna go?"
"Me?  Tonight?  But it's a Tuesday and--"
"Oh," she said visibly saddened.  "It's okay, I don't know what I was thinking just coming over here like this.  I just..."
"I'd love to go," he blurted out.
"You would?" she squeaked.  "Oh that would be great!  I will meet you at the Cleveland station at eight!"
"Okay," he replied unsure of what he had just agreed to.  "I guess that I'll--"
"Oops!  This is my stop!  Cleveland station at eight!  See you then!"  And she gave him a wink and was out the door and onto the platform.

*****

He got to the station at about five minutes to eight.  He wasn't exactly sure what kind of show they were going to be going to, so he just wore jeans and a t-shirt.  He had never done anything so impulsive before and was quite certain that she wasn't going to show up.  But at precisely eight o'clock she showed up donning the same outfit that she was wearing that afternoon.

"Hi there," he waved to her shyly.

"Hey you!  I'm so glad you showed up!" she exclaimed.  "I wasn't sure if you were actually coming and I would have felt so stupid if you hadn't been here!"

"Yeah, totally," he said trying to play it cool.  "So what kind of show are we going to?  Punk band?  Metal?"

"Art!"

"Come again?" he said somewhat surprised.

"We are going to an art show in the city!  My friend Reshma is putting on a show and she said that I could bring a guest!"  she clapped her hands together and practically jumped in the air.

"Reshma?  That's crazy, I work with someone named Reshma.  Is she an Indian lady with a tiny nose piercing and long hair?"

"Uh...Yeah!  I'm willing to bet that they are one in the same!  She's just the best!" Sally smiled.  "Let's go before we miss the next train!"  And she grabbed his hand pulling him towards the platform.

Reshma just happened to be the woman at work that Jim was constantly fantasizing over.

This was going to be weird.

*****

When they got to "The Gallery on 12th Street" (which in typical yuppie fashion was a gallery located on 12th Street) Jim felt decidedly under dressed for the occasion.  It was one of those events where college students in bowties were serving trays of champagne and hors d'oeuvres for trendy people in cocktail dresses and business casual.

The ride over had been thirty minutes of non-stop chattering from Sally and feigned interest in various topics from both parties.  Jim didn't think that it had been going particularly well, but Sally didn't seem to feel that way at all.  The gallery was quite small and there were only ten pieces on display that night--all of which were created by Reshma Gupta according to the program being passed out at the door. 

He scanned the room looking for the elusive artist.  He hadn't even known that she painted outside of work, but they were all quite good.  She generally wore boring grey business suits at work with just a touch of lipstick to add some color to her face, but nothing more exciting than that.  When he finally happened to catch a glance at her he was taken aback at how amazing she looked.  She was dressed in an elegant sapphire evening gown and had a ton of gold bangles on her arm that made her dark skin stand out beautifully.  And for the first time ever he saw her with her hair down and a myriad of thoughts that he had given up even thinking a long time ago popped back into his head.

"Look!"  Jim told Sally grabbing her by the arm.  "There's Reshma!  Let's go say hi!"  He took a glass of champagne and downed the whole thing in seconds to calm his nerves.  Part of him wished there was some orange juice around to accompany it, but the thought left his head quickly.

"Uh... Maybe we should look at the art first," Sally said nervously, .  "You know, so we can let her know what we think of it!"

"We just got here," he told her.  "I'm sure she'll understand."  And he continued to pull her towards the guest of honor.  Sally darted her eyes around the room suspiciously.

"Jim, before we go over there, can I have just a teeny moment alone with you?" she asked sweetly.  "Over here."  She motioned towards what looked like a utility closet.

"Um, I guess," he said somewhat confused.

They walked over to the closet and she opened the door and pulled him inside with her.

"I don't want you to get the wrong impression of me," she started, pulling him closer towards her by the belt loops in his jeans. "I don't go around doing this thing all the time."

"Doing what kind of thing?"

And before he could ask her anymore questions she undid the button on the front of his pants and looked at him with a serious case of bedroom eyes.  She had the most incredible green eyes that he'd ever seen before.  He didn't know why he hadn't noticed earlier.  She batted her lashes at him and slowly unzipped his zipper.  He tried backing away a bit, but just ended up against the back of the door.

"Sally," he started.  "I mean... We just met and... I don't..." 

But very quickly she had a hand down the front of his boxers and all arguments were invalid. 

"Jim," she told him in a suddenly sultry voice, "I know you want me.  I saw it on the train.  Even if it's just for this, that's okay."  And as she slowly rubbed against him with one hand, she placed the other on his shoulder and leaned in to whisper in his ear.  "You should treat yourself every now and then, sweetie," she said softly.  Then she proceeded to lick the bottom of his ear and nibble it a bit and she could feel him grow under the touch of her well-manicured fingers.

"I--" he tried protesting one last time.

"Shhhh," she said placing a finger to his lips.  "Let me do this for you.  We both need a little excitement in our lives."  And he stopped fighting her and let his arms fall to the sides.  "Good man," she laughed. 

She was about two inches taller than he was without the boots, so with the boots she towered over him and it kind of turned him on even more.  She looked him dead in the eyes and cocked her head to the side, her blue pigtails bouncing a bit.  Then without notice she straightened up and planted her lips over his and kissed him roughly, grabbing the back of his head with one hand and stroking his ego with the other.  She heard a moan escape his throat and she smiled deviously with her eyes.  She pulled away from him for a second, slapped him across the face and laughed maniacally.

With an almost superhuman speed she dropped to her knees and brought his pants and boxers down with her in one near fluid motion.  The door was much colder on his ass than he could have possibly anticipated and he flinched a bit.  She laughed even harder and looked up at him from the floor.

"You are fucking adorable," she told him.  And with that she put her full, pouty lips over his shaft and did some amazing things with her tongue that caused him to put his palms up against the door where they remained plastered for a few minutes of wet ecstasy.  She came up for air with a loud smack from her lips and looked at him critically.  "Are you planning on participating here?" she asked him.

"Huh?" he asked her somewhat dazed.  "What do you mean?"

"These pigtails aren't just for show, ya know," she chastised him playfully.  She guided his hands to her sapphire tresses and told him, "It's okay to get a little rough, Jim."

He looked down at the blue-haired goddess on her knees before him and an inexplicable rage came over him.  This girl was incredibly attractive, yet he wanted to smite her from existence for being so damn dense.  She didn't even know who fucking Ray Bradbury was!  He wrapped her luscious locks around his hands and brought her face down into his lap; slowly at first but then building up somewhat of a rhythm, crashing himself into her.  She wriggled a bit under his hands and rested her fingers on his thighs as he became a bit too forceful for her.  She tried to speak through a mouthful of flesh, but her muffled voice was all he heard.  She looked up at him with wide eyes and saw the same raw passion that she was inflicting on her echoed in his face.  She scratched him roughly with her nails and finally he eased up a bit allowing her to back off enough to pant, "If you're going to get that intense you may as well fuck me."

He nodded silently, reached in his back pocket and pulled out the leather wallet that his father got him as a graduation present.  In the billfold there was a single condom that he had been saving for such an occasion.  Unfortunately he had planned for it too long ago and the latex had long since expired. She arched an eyebrow at him and cracked a smile.  "Don't worry, I always come prepared," she said passing him a new one.  He slid it on as she got off the ground and slid her panties down around her ankles.  They were the smallest piece of fabric he'd ever seen and were the same electric blue color as her hair.

She bent over and braced herself on a shelving unit attached to the wall.  In the process she knocked over a broom and two bottles of glass cleaner.  He was almost certain that no one had heard it, but for good measure he locked the door just in case.

He put himself into position over her tight wetness and she looked over her shoulder at him with her gorgeous green eyes.  The blank stare she gave him was enough to set him over the edge again and he guided himself into her then held her hips fast so that he could push everything that he had into her.  She moaned loudly and he started looking around in a very paranoid manner thinking that someone had to have heard that.

"You have to be more quiet," he told her in a loud whisper. 

In response to that she tightened herself around him and he continued performing the task at hand.  He tried to be gentle so that she wouldn't be so noisy, but she just wouldn't shut the fuck up.  So he took one hand and cupped it over her mouth as he thrust himself into her harder and faster.  That seemed to work out much more to his advantage and he was able to get her at a much more pleasing angle.

She cried but it just came out as a shrill noise from behind closed lips.  Beads of sweat started to form on his forehead as she took him inside of her like the dumb slut that she was acting like.  His legs started to get a bit tired so he grabbed her hips with both hands again and started pulling her down on his cock.  She was absolutely dripping and he didn't think he could take much more.  Her moaning got louder and louder and he noticed she was rubbing herself furiously with one hand.  He didn't give a damn who heard what.  Totally worth it.

Until someone eventually did hear it.  Actually quite a few people heard it.  And one of them had keys.

Jim heard the keys rattling around in someone's hand right outside the door, but it was too late now, he was already there. He grabbed her by the pigtails and slammed himself into her as hard as he could.  She tightened around him one last time and they both moaned in shivers of ecstasy as the gallery manager and several other onlookers gawked into the now open door.  One woman even dropped her champagne flute to the ground.

"Jim?" asked a voice from the back of the crowd.

He looked over to see Reshma coming towards the closet.

"Jim Lachance?  What are you doing?" she asked somewhat horrified.  He looked at her in her elegant gown and her flawless hair and makeup.  She looked at him sweating profusely, still inside of some skanky college student with a hank of blue hair in his hand.  "Are you insane?  Who the hell is this bitch?"

"Uhhh... Everyone give me one second.  My apologies," he said quickly, slamming the door. 

He carefully pulled out of her and helped get her vertical again.

"So I am going to go out on a limb and guess that you don't know Reshma," he said angrily getting everything on his person back in order. 

"Well, I mean... I know of her..." she said carefully, pulling her panties back up over her hips.

"Why the hell did we come here?  Out of all the places to go in this giant fucking city!  Why here?" he cried.

Before she could answer, Reshma pounded on the door.  "Get out here, Jim!  You're ruining my gala!"

"I'd hardly call this a gala..." Sally said quietly.  Jim shot her a dirty look.  "Sorry!"

"Decent or not, you are leaving now!" said Reshma opening the door dramatically.  "Oh good, everyone is fully clothed!  Now get the hell out!"  She pulled him by the shirt dragging him to the entrance and Sally followed close behind.

"Reshma, I'm so sorry!  I-- She--"  But once they were out on the curb she closed the door and spat on the ground at his feet.

"I can't fucking believe you, Jim," she said in a low vicious tone that her patrons couldn't hear.  She headed back inside and didn't look back.  He saw her plaster an apologetic smile on her face when she was back inside and he felt insanely terrible.

"So," Sally said from a few feet behind him, "I guess that's Reshma.  She seems nice."

"What the fuck was that about?  Did someone hire you to humiliate me?  Because it fucking worked!"

"I--"

"Just get the hell away from me!" he shouted at her.  

She looked at him sadly and opened her mouth to speak, but was unable to think of anything to say, then walked off down the street. 

He sat down on the sidewalk and hugged his knees with his head in his lap.  He looked up after a few moments of thinking that maybe he had been a bit harsh on the girl, but she was already gone.  The city was too big and he was too tired.  He sighed and hung his head back down for a good ten minutes.  It had been a crazy day.  He was about to get up and leave when he suddenly heard the door open from behind him.

"So, I see you're still here," Reshma said coldly.

"Listen, I am really sorry, Reshma," he said getting up off the curb.  "I don't know what just happened back there.  I seriously just met that girl today and--"

She looked like she was starting to get very angry again, so he tried explaining himself even more.  He just kept talking and talking until she looked like she started to understand what he was talking about and where he was coming from. 

"Also, I had no idea that you painted," he said finishing his lengthy lament.

"You never asked," she replied.  "I've seen you staring at me at work, but you've never come to talk to me."

"Oh... Um... Can we start tonight over?" he asked with an expression begging for forgiveness.

"You mean you want me to forget that I saw you having sex with some random girl in a closet tonight?  Yeah, that's not happening," she laughed.  "But if you like you can come back inside and let me know what you think of my work.  I do more than just crunch numbers you know."

"Isn't it going to be weird for me to go back in there?" he asked in a low voice.

"Jim, it's the fucking city.  People see shit like that in alleys and McDonald's restrooms on a daily basis.  Come on." 

And she grabbed his arm as they walked in the door.  He smiled and looked truly happy for the first time in years.

*****

"So, I see you're finished there, Sally," said the man in the shadows.

"Yeah," she said slowly.  "I feel so bad though.  I know that you said this was to help things along, but I feel like I just made things worse back there." 

She took the elastic bands out from around her pigtails and let down her hair.  She shook it out a bit and then ran a hand through it changing it back to her natural dark brown. 

"Oh, Lily," he whined, "I liked the blue hair!  Won't you change it back?" 

"Not tonight, Ash.  I'm beat."  He tossed her a black duffel bag and she changed in the darkness of the alley.  Jeans and a t-shirt were way more her style.  She pulled the fake piercings out of her lip and nose and placed them in the pocket of the bag.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, darling, I think she understands how he feels now.  She let him come back inside and everything." 

"I thought you said I was incapable of feeling anything?" she said slyly.

"Perhaps I am wrong.  But I seriously doubt it," he scoffed.  "Once a succubus, always a succubus."

"Well, yeah, but I'm pretty sure that's only true because I'm immortal," she said rolling her eyes at him.

They both laughed as they made their way down the dark alley, emerging back into the orange light of the street lamp.

"Come on kid, I'll buy you a donut," he said offering her his arm.

"You're on," she replied.  They had just turned the corner when she thought about the stupid girl that she was pretending to be for the day.  "Ash, if I ever get hit over the head, become a total moron and don't know the difference between Michael Moore and Ray Bradbury, just kill me."

"I'll try," he said.  "It would most likely be in vein, but I'll try."

"Thanks," she smiled.
And they walked arm in arm through the city on a quest for late night donuts, content with the knowledge that they had completed yet another task that required more than just divine intervention.

Lily Unaware Part 1

  

Chapter one

She stood in the dark all alone pretending to watch the wind and moonlight create shadows throughout the room, but really her mind was elsewhere.  The party across the street had already retreated inside over an hour ago, save for a few lone smokers hanging out in the driveway. Now all she could hear were the sounds of her parents preparing to go to sleep in separate beds.  She hadn’t been invited—to the party, that is, across the street.  She hadn’t wanted to go anyway.  She didn’t know anyone there.  She didn’t really know anyone anywhere.

      It was somewhat of a curiosity to her, people having a party.  It wasn’t even anyone’s birthday. It was a Thursday for Christ's sake!  What the fuck were they celebrating? The last party she had been to was a wake for someone she had never even met.

      She wondered if anyone saw her spying through the blinds. She wasn’t exactly being inconspicuous about it.  She almost hoped that someone would see her and come to the realization that they had neglected to extend the invitation.  They would run over and ring the bell.  Maybe it would be a group of girls eager to introduce her to some thoroughly inebriated seniors.  Or maybe it would be the preppy boy who lived next door.  But no one came.  She sighed deeply as she let her hand drop from the window, creating a tinny racket from the mini-blinds that startled the cat. 

      "Oh, Mesmer," she said softly as she flopped into her nearby bed and peered around in the dark. She reached out in vain for the frightened cat.  "Mmmm, even you won't have anything to do with me."  She pouted for a short while and eventually Mesmer slinked back into the bed with her, nuzzling her fingers with his giant, white kitty head.

      That was how she generally got what she wanted, by pouting in a sickeningly cutesy fashion.  People felt sorry for her at first, but she was noticing that her pouting routine was starting to wear thin with those that she practiced it on now.  She would have to figure out a new way of manipulating people to get her way.

      Her name was Lily Truman and she was three months shy of eighteen.  She never heard anyone refer to her as "hot" or even "pretty", but she could generally pull off "cute" when she was all cleaned up—which wasn't very often.  It was her senior year at Archer High School and she was one of the few girls there who had never had a boyfriend.  For the most part she kept to herself.  She had never had a real friendship that lasted longer than a year or two.  People were always moving away or dying or just finding other reasons in general to shit all over her social life.  It was rough.

      After her best friend had moved away her junior year, she had become more anti-social than ever.  She spent her lunch breaks in the dark corridors of the school writing pathetically bad poetry, sitting under trees drawing clumsily raunchy hentai or, on really bad days, inside meetings of the Chess Club.  When she would come home from school she would do her homework, write more, draw more, whatever she had to do to occupy her time enough to forget that she was alone. 

      She had siblings, but they never really included her in their goings-on.  Josie was an eight-year-old, redheaded firecracker with chunky cheeks that were too cute for words; Dee was thirteen with the same dark hair as Lily, but with her father's tanned skin; and Joe was fifteen and sullen, with short brown hair and a scattering of freckles across his pale face.  Josie was too young to relate to her, Dee was her polar opposite and Joe was just as anti-social as she was and a boy, so that left her mostly alone.  She always figured that she was adopted since the others seemed to get along quite well without her, but she had the same pale skin as her mother and the same dark hair and dark eyes as her father, so that was a fantasy that she rarely indulged in.

      She lay in bed petting the cat who had decided to curl up in her lap and let her mind wander to the places it often wandered to when she was alone.  She used to go to sleep thinking stupid teenage girl thoughts like: Dear God, please send me a boyfriend, or someone to love me for who I am. If you just let me find true love, I'll be true to him for all time.   But then she realized that thinking things like that were just trite and irritating and people only said crap like that in religious propaganda movies and crappy romance novels.  As she got older, her thoughts became exceedingly darker:  If I don't find someone to keep me company soon, I will probably end up killing myself.  Oh look, Vicodin!  Or: Maybe if I leave my window unlocked, some random stranger will rape and kill me.  At least I'd be getting some action...  Of course she never shared these thoughts with anyone else, but she enjoyed having a sinister side that no one else knew about. 

      That night she started thinking of Chad Wrigley.  Chad was the ginger guy of her dreams.  He was smart, funny, just as nerdy as she was and totally in her league.  At least she seemed to think so.  Chad had other ideas.  In the movies, she thought, when they bring up romantic situations for the underdog, they always show the nerdy guy in school that's fawning over the super-hot, popular girl, and all the trials and tribulations that he has to go through to be noticed by someone that he has absolutely nothing in common with, and somehow he always gets the girl.  What do I have to look up to?  "She's All That"?  Oh no!   The "nerdy" girl who was already pretty but shy takes off her glasses and ends up with some preppy asshat who was kind enough to look past her many hideous flaws like corrective lenses and intelligence.  In real life, when the nerdy girl wants the nerdy guy he's already been brainwashed by the mainstream media that he's so awesome that he should never settle for girls like me.  She sighed again.  She sighed a lot.  But when she finished sighing and feeling sorry for herself, she pulled the covers over her head and forced herself to drift off to sleep while thinking of dumbass Chad doing unspeakable things to her. 

      And that's when things started to take an interesting turn.

Chapter two

He wrapped his long, freckled arms around her and brought her in close for a forced embrace as the water lapped quietly at the shore behind them.  He looked into her eyes and she could see the hate behind his.  She could feel the fear racing through her body but when she tried to break free he manhandled the back of her head and forced his mouth onto hers, parting her lips with his tongue.  She closed her eyes and let a smooth, sensual sigh leave her throat, when suddenly he threw her down to the ground.

      "Who do you think you are?" Chad asked with contempt.  "You are not here to enjoy yourself.  I am here to enjoy you!"  And he dropped to his knees and ripped off her long, Victorian skirt as she lay back in terror slowly attempting to back away with her palms pressed tight to the sandy beach below her.

      "Where do you think you're going, you little whore?"  His billowy, white linen shirt rippled in the breeze revealing a rather slender, pale frame underneath.  He dramatically ran the fingers of one hand through his silky red hair, while looking at her menacingly.  He snarled and pulled down her ruffled bloomers as she screamed for help.  "Scream all you like, my fair Lily, but out here, no one will hear your cries!" he declared, ending with just the right amount of maniacal laughter.

He held her down with one hand and undid the buttons on his insanely tight britches and wriggled to slide them down to his ankles.  Without warning she could feel the weight of his body on top of her.  She struggled to breathe beneath her corset and could feel all ten inches of his rock hard manhood throb up against her thigh. 

      "You can't do this Chad!" she screamed melodramatically.  "I don't love you anymore!  I—”

      And he cupped his hand over her mouth while he positioned himself right over the unplucked flower that was her maidenhood. 

      "This is—" Chad started.

      "This is just fucking ridiculous," said a very suave man's voice from only a few feet away.  The interruption was so jarring you could practically hear the needle scratching the vinyl record of the soundtrack that was her dream.

      Chad had a very shocked and confused look on his face.

      Lily just looked furious. 

      "Are you kidding me?  I can't even lose my frickin' virginity in my own damn dream?" she yelled, pushing Dream Chad off of her and onto the sand.

      The man stepped out from behind a rocky formation.  He was dressed in period appropriate clothing, but instead of the pirate garb that Chad wore, the man was the picture of aristocratic style from head-to-toe: felt top-hat, red coat-tailed jacket with matching britches, cane and buckled leather shoes.  He even wore a monocle, as if to make his outfit more absurd.

      "Apparently not," he said casually.  "Besides, what a gaudy way to go through with such a thing!  I know it's a dream, but really?  'Manhood'?  'Ruffled shirts'?  'Unplucked flowers'?  Honestly dear, the whole thing is just absolutely tacky.  I really do expect quite a bit more from you."

      "Who the—?"

      "And this?" he asked pointing at Chad, "This is the best you could do?  I'm just—I’m simply flabbergasted at how little you must think of me if this is what goes for passable with you nowadays!  And I'm sorry, but there is no way in hell that this boy has ten inches of anything anywhere."

      She wracked her brain but had no idea who this man was.  He looked vaguely familiar to her, but in a way everyone did to some extent.  Maybe this is my subconscious telling me that Chad isn't the guy for me and that I should move on.  But maybe—

      "Are you quite through trying to analyze the dream that you're dreaming while you're dreaming it?  I'm certain that you'll break your brain that way, dearest," he said brushing sand off of his polished shoes with gloved hands.  "This is certainly not the most creative playground that you've constructed.  And who is this boy, anyway?  One of your thralls?"

      "No!  This is Chad from school!  And we were watching some pirate musical the other day in Music Appreciation, and—Wait!  Why I am I telling you all of this?  If you're part of my subconscious then you should already have all of this figured out by now," she told him narrowing her eyes.

       "Yes.  Well, you were the one who decided to jump to that conclusion, love.  I can assure you that I am no more part of your brain than you are or ever were in love with that boy."  She looked at him confused, like the stereotypical deer in the headlights.  He had brilliant dark eyes and hair that made him look as though he stepped from the pages of one of her favorite manga series.  He was older than she was, maybe in his mid-thirties, but she still found him to be quite handsome.  "Why yes, I am quite handsome," he said, leaving her speechless.  "God knows I've been working on it for quite some time now.  Let's get rid of all this" he said presenting his hands to the sky, "and that," he said pointing at Chad.  With a wave of his hand their surroundings were gone with the sea breeze and so was Dream Chad. 

      "You know, for someone who's supposed to be, uh, well, whatever it is that you're supposed to be, you say 'quite' a lot.  It's making you sound kinda pompous," she told him looking him square in the eye.

      "Ah, now there's the old Lilith that I know!" he grinned.  "All full of ill-will and quick to judge!  Let's see, if I remember correctly, you like Earl Grey." 

      She looked around and she was sitting at a very doily-heavy table in a fancy parlor somewhere.  There were deep red velvet drapes, porcelain dolls in China cabinets and richly painted works of art hanging from the walls.  On the table was a full tea service as well as a placeholder that said "Lili."

      "Uh, I don't know exactly what's going on, but I don't know you, I've never even tried Earl Grey tea and you spelled my name wrong.  It's 'Lily,' not 'Lili'."

      "Or is it?" he asked coyly.  "Try your tea; I know you'll like it."

      "How do I know this isn't like laced with Roofies or something?  And who the hell are you anyway?  You seem to know entirely too many wrong things about me."

      "You know who I am," he replied getting irritated.  "And really?  I interrupted your rape fantasy to give you tea and biscuits and rape you in a salon?  Good God you're daft!  Just drink the damn tea, girl!"

      She looked into the cup and cautiously took a sip from it.  She licked her lips and smirked a bit.

      "See?  I told you you'd like it.  You always have," he smirked back at her.  "Now, down to business!  I'm just here to go over the terms of our contract which will be coming into effect quite soon.  I—"

      "Contract?  Are you sure you're in the right dream?" she asked him as if he were the crazy one.

      "Why, this contract," he said, producing a scroll from out of midair.  "And as you can see, the terms of said contract will be coming to fruition in three months time.  I just needed to make sure that when I come to collect, you will be physically, mentally and emotionally ready for me."  He looked her up and down and grinned like an idiot.

      "I can't even read this.  It's in gibberish.  Is this some kind of Rumpelstiltskin thing?  I don't have a baby on the way or anything like that!  Sorry buddy!" she said backing away from the table.

      "No, no, darling," he said grabbing her wrist, slowly pulling her towards him, his eyes starting to glow with a dull orange haze behind them, "I'm coming for you.  I'm here to help bring you back.  I'm—"

      And then her alarm went off and she woke up in a cold sweat. 

      What the hell was that?

Chapter three

Okay, so that was the weirdest fucking dream ever, Lily thought to herself.  She pulled back the covers that were absolutely covered in cat hair and got up and out of bed.  She looked at herself in the mirror on the bureau and ran the silver brush that her grandmother had given her through her hair.  It was heavy, but the bristles were soft and she loved the contrast of the light silver on her dark, straight hair that had grown down to the small of her back.  She lay the brush down on the dresser and cocked her head looking at her reflection.  Her eyes were so brown that you could barely see her pupils and they looked rather exotic with her pale skin.  She had no eyelashes to speak of and her eyebrows had seen better days, but she still thought they had a nice shape to them.  She liked her face even if other people her age didn't and at times when she was bored would stare at it up close in the mirror quite a bit.  It helped her with her drawing. 

      She had full pouty lips that her sister, Dee, told her she got from complaining so much and a heart-shaped face that had filled out a bit more than she would have liked.  Senior year hadn't exactly been kind to Lily.  Most days she thought she looked pretty good, but some of the girls at school had been rather rude to her.  One guy made a comment when she came back from summer vacation at the beginning of the year that she finally made his "T&A Radar."  He was a dickbag. 

She threw on some jeans and a black t-shirt and made her way down the hall to the kitchen.  Her dad had already left for the morning and her mom was in the backyard feeding the dogs.  Josie sat at the table eating a bowl of cereal that she had poured herself, as evidenced by the bits of cereal strewn across the counters and floor. 

      "Why don't you ever wear dresses like Dee does?" the small girl asked between giant bites.  Her Barbie backpack was at her feet, ready for when she walked down to the bus stop.

      "Well," Lily patiently explained, "I don't really like what comes with wearing them.  You have to worry about how you sit and if it starts bunching up in the back, and it's just an overall pain in the a— butt." 

      "Oh," she said chomping away, "Okay then."

      Lily grabbed a breakfast bar from the cupboard and started heading for the door when she ran into Dee in the hallway—and she looked a hot mess. 

      "Holy crap!" Lily exclaimed.  "Mom is so not letting you leave the house like that!"

      "What?  It's just jeans and a t-shirt," she said.  "You're wearing practically the same thing."

      "Uh, yeah, but mine doesn't have slits all down the front of the shirt or down the side of the pants!  You might as well have a flashing arrow sign over your ass that says 'Eat at Dee's...Ass'!  Ha-ha!" she exclaimed, letting her laughter peter out after realizing how stupid it sounded out loud. She wished she could have a do-over for that would-be burn.

      "Yeah, that was totally funny," Dee said rolling her eyes.  "But I'm out right now to the bus stop before Mom gets in here, so peace out, puta!"  And she strolled out the door.

      Who the hell says "peace out” anymore, she thought to herself. What a loser.  

*****

      Lily walked to school by herself like she did nearly everyday.  She lived pretty close to school and there was a nice little bike trail that ran along the canal that she could take most of the way.  It was usually pretty deserted, so it was a relaxing change of pace from being at home or at school.  She liked her alone time.  So of course Matt Olsen from down the street decided to catch up and walk with her. 

      Lily had known Matt and his family ever since her family had moved to Archer when she was in elementary school. She and Matt were in the same grade, but didn't have very many classes together because he wasn't all that bright.  Lily wasn't an elitist or anything, but she was a smart cookie and was in almost all advanced classes.  (Except math.  Fuck math.)  Matt had always walked with Lily to school when they first started high school, but after he joined the football team, their appearances together had tapered off.  He liked her company, but he didn't want to lose the little social standing that he did have.  It was a "You understand, right?" situation.  It was shitty, but she understood.  She had never been interested in him in any kind of romantic fashion, but with his light brown hair, his bright blue eyes and his athletic build, she could see how most girls would be into that.

      "Hey there, Tiger Lily!" he said clasping a firm hand on her shoulder.

      "Hey, hey," she responded in a deadpan manner, "What's up?"

      "Did you catch that party over at Kent's house last night?  There was some crazy shit that went down there!"

      "Nope," she replied with her eyes darting across the water, "Not unless by 'catching' it you mean to ask 'Did it keep you up while you were trying to sleep because no one invited you?'  Then, yeah, I 'caught' it."

      "Lily!  Why didn't you come over?  It was hella tight!  Elle Fisher got so drunk that she flashed everyone her tits and threw up in Kent's pool!"

      "Damn, sorry to have missed that.”  The sarcasm went right over his head. “Who's Kent again?" 

      "It's okay, Tiger Lily.  I'll make sure you get into the next one.  Just hit me up!  And you know Kent.  Kent Villasenor.  His brother is Marco!"  His excitement trailed off as he saw she wasn't interested.  "Is it the 'Tiger Lily' thing again?  I can't help it!  I've been calling you that forever and I know it's not your favorite, but I just can't stop!  Forgive me?"

      "It's not that," she sighed.  "Although that is irritating... I just had some really weird dreams last night that I can't quite shake."

      "You dreamin' about me again?" he said jokingly.  "I know it's hard to resist the Olsenator! Ha-ha!"

      "Oh yeah, you know it!" she laughed.  "But seriously, it was the weirdest thing.  I was having a dream about... Uh... Let's just say a dream of an intimate nature, when all of a sudden this guy stops the whole thing and says that my name isn't spelled right and that we have a contract.  And, I mean, I don't recognize this guy from anything; not from a movie or school or a damn park bench.  And he hands me this contract that we 'have together' and I can't read it at all.  But the whole thing felt so real.  And before he could explain what it was about, I woke up.  What the hell does that mean?"  She looked him in the eyes for the first time in a very long time and stopped walking.

      "Hmmm.  I dunno, Tiger Lily.  Have you ever seen that episode of that old animated Batman show where the Scarecrow has him trapped in a dream, but he doesn't know he's in a dream, but then he figures it out because everything he tries to read is bullshit because your brain can't process writing in a dream?  Maybe it's like that!  Maybe you couldn't read it because it was your brain's way of saying 'Chill out, this is just a dream!'" 

      "Yeah, I don't think it works like that," she said skeptically.

      "Uh, yeah!  If it was on Batman, it's gotta be true!"  He smiled, grabbed her hand and drug her along the path.  "Come on, we don't wanna be late for class.  It'll be okay."

      And they walked hand in hand down the canal trail—until they got to the main road where people would actually see them.  Always the charmer, that Matt.

Chapter four

As always, school was pretty uneventful, but at least it was Friday.  She went to class, she drew some girl in a Catholic school girl uniform in her journal at lunch, she stopped paying attention in math allowing her to write a racy poem about the good part of her Chad dream from the night before and she was able to avoid her brother, Joe, pretty much the whole day. 

      It was weird having a sibling attend high school with you.  It seems like before they get there you can fuck around and say or do whatever you want, but afterwards you have to censor yourself somewhat so that they don't see you do something stupid and report back home about it.  It wasn't that Joe would for sure do that, it's just that she didn't want to take the chance.

      Walking to fourth period she passed her baby brother up in the hall and they nodded in acknowledgment that they each saw the other.  That was about the only contact they had most days.  As mentioned before, they weren't very close.

      Lily sat down in her assigned seat behind Chad in Music Appreciation.  This was only one of two classes that they had together and she was almost certain that if the seating were not assigned that he would not be sitting there.  She would daze off at times and just smell his hair.  He wasn't one of the popular kids, but he sure thought that he was.  He had daring red hair, freckles on his face and arms, and gorgeous green eyes.  He was nice enough to her at times, enough to make her fall head over heels for him, but he made it very clear that he was too good for her.  He told her that he "didn't date thick girls" and that "he preferred blondes" and a whole bunch of other things that made her feel really great about herself.  Her journal was filled with poems about him and his stupid green eyes.  She once got up the courage to tell him how she felt junior year and he totally blew her off.  It wasn't like there was anyone else that she had anything in common with at the small town school they attended.

Archer High was in a town so small that kids would go to the car wash to have fun.  Archer was a small commuter town in the Central Valley.  A lot of people moved there from San Jose and it was a farming community with lots of immigrant workers, so there was a high Hispanic population and not a whole lot of anything else.  She and her family had lived in Archer for several years now and although she had learned a great deal of Spanish and did her best to fit in, she still felt like an outsider. Lily was without a doubt the whitest kid in school, female or otherwise, so she got a lot of cracks made about how pale her skin was and how she “needed to go outside” and of course remarks about her "Lily white ass."  It was good times at Archer High.

      "Hey Lily," Chad said as he turned to face her.  "Do you know what date the final is? I need to re-watch pretty much all the movies from the last week."

      "Um, yeah.  It's in two weeks," she said nervously.  "If you want you can come over to my place and watch them.  My parents are music fanatics, so we have all of those movies already."

      He looked around to make sure no one had heard that and then replied, "Uh, well the thing about that is... Honestly, it doesn't sound like a very good idea.  I mean, could I borrow them from you?  That would be cool."

      Wow, okay.  Wasn't expecting him to be that blunt, she thought to herself.  "Sorry, my dad doesn't lend out his DVDs to anyone."  And she went back to writing in her notebook until he turned around again.  I can't believe I'm still not over this asshole.

*****

      Sixth period gym really wasn't a whole hell of a lot better.  Of course the other class that Lily had with Chad was gym, a class where she had to wear baggy clothes and show off how completely uncoordinated she was.  Luckily their school was so overcrowded that she was almost able to just blend in with everyone else amid the sea of gray and black gym clothes, but the bitch goddess of humiliation was ready to pick her out of a crowd. 

      She had just been assigned to a volleyball team and was picked to be the first one to serve the ball.  So of course she tossed the ball in the air, went to spike it and ended up spiking it at her own damn feet and tripping over the ball.  "Accident prone" was a phrase that was commonly used in the Truman household, and most of the time it was referring to Lily.  She fell on her ass in front of everyone and managed to injure her arm in the process.

      "Oh damn!  Are you okay, chica?" asked a handsome young man in a basketball jersey.  She couldn't remember seeing him around before, but was grateful that there was actually someone nice who was willing to help her up.  "Here, I've gotcha," he said in a soothing voice while he helped her up off the ground.

      "Thanks, uh…" she said still in shock from falling.  "What was your name again?"

      "Awww really?" he asked in a playful tone.  "Kent?  The guy who lives across the street from you?  I know it's been a while 'cause I just got back from building houses in Guadalajara with my church, but dang girl!"

      "Sorry," she blushed, "I guess I'm just in the house a lot.  I'm Lily by the way."

      "Ha-ha, yeah, I know.  You're like the only white girl up in here, so it's pretty easy to remember," he laughed. "Let's go up to the office and get you some ice.  That arm looks pretty swollen."

      So they went up to the front office and iced her arm then headed back to the gym.

      "Feeling a little better?" he asked.

      "Yeah," she said.  "I think I hurt my pride more than anything else.  You know how it is."

      "Nope, not really," he laughed.  "But it’s cool.  I'm a fuckin' ninja on the court!"  And he gently made contact by putting his hand on her shoulder, which didn't go unnoticed.

      "Sorry," she said brushing his arm away, "It's been a really weird few hours.  I don't know if you know how it feels to actually doubt yourself, but that's where I'm at right now.  Wrong place, wrong guy, wrong me..." she trailed off.

      "Now that I can feel ya on!  There's lots of times when I'm not sure of myself.  But I look within and I look above and God shows me the path to glory—on and off the court!" he smiled, pantomiming the whole thing.

      "Ah, well, uh, that's cool," she said treading lightly.  "I don't exactly do the whole 'God' thing, but to each their own.  I guess I just don't really like who I am lately.  Even my dreams are trying to tell me that something needs to change.  I just don't know what.  Damn, I don't know why I'm telling you all this.  I guess you just seem like a good listener."  She looked into his dark brown eyes as she said the last part.  He was incredibly attractive and looked as though someone had pulled an Aztec warrior through time and dressed him in a basketball uniform.  He had an ear pierced and a ponytail.  Not exactly her type, but as of late she was starting to wonder if she even had a type.

      "Well, it's okay about the 'whole God thing' as you say," he smiled.  "I'd like to think that God loves you even if you may not, uh, see eye to eye with him.  It's the kind of person that you are that matters.  And yes, I am an excellent listener.  Or so they say!"  Damn, he's charming!  Why is this guy even giving me the time of day?  Is he trying to impress someone?  "What is it that you want to change?  Even making small changes helps out the big picture." She noticed that his hand had found its way back to her shoulder.

      "I don't know... I mean, I have to change the kind of asshole guys that I'm interested in, I need to be more outgoing and less socially awkward, and it would be nice to lose this extra weight that I gained before I head off to college next year.  They say that you gain even more weight there and that doesn't exactly sound appealing."

      "I see," he said in a super sensitive tone.  "I don't know about the guy stuff—Not that you aren't attractive, it's just that I already have a girlfriend—"  Of course you do.  "But I am a pretty good personal trainer.  I've helped a lot of guys on the team bulk up or trim down over the years.  If you want we could meet after my practices a few days a week and I could train you."

      She looked at him quizzically and cocked her head to the side.  "That would be great, but why would you do that for me?  You barely know me."

      "Truth be told, I'd have something to gain from it too," he said steadily.  Ah, I knew there was a catch.  Always a catch.  "I kind of did some stupid stuff a few months ago with some of my friends involving a car that wasn't exactly what you would call legal... So, I've gotta do a ton of community service.  The thing that I did with my church a few weeks ago took off a big chunk of it, but I still have about 200 hours left.  If you'd sign off on my paper every week with a gym teacher, I'd appreciate it," he said sheepishly.

      "Oh..." she said kind of shocked.  "Yeah, I mean, I guess that would be cool.  It sounds like a win-win situation there.  I'd be down.  When would you wanna start?"

      "Let's see... How about next week?  We could do Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays at around four-thirty?"

      "Yeah, that would be awesome," she smiled.  She looked around and realized they had made it back to the gym a while ago.  "I guess we should get back to class, though.  I will see you here on Monday then!"

      "Awesome!  I will see you then!"

      And she sat on the bleachers waiting for class to finish, looking over at Kent every few minutes to see if he might possibly be looking at her.  He wasn't, but that was okay.  It was a step in the right direction towards making some changes.  If only she knew how big.

Chapter five

"Ah!  There you are, my dear!  I was worried that you'd never fall asleep!" said the mystery man from her last dream.  He stood before her wearing a boy's private school uniform: a crisp, sky blue blazer with an embroidered emblem on the breast pocket, khakis that had been pressed and a navy blue bow tie—because bow ties are cool. 

      I have got to cut down on the late night manga reading, she thought to herself. 

      "Yes," he replied to her unspoken statement, "you really should.  This whole schoolboy thing is all very interesting though.  I was very curious as to what 'does it for you' nowadays.  I could see this one going a few different ways!"

      "Gah!  Stop doing that!" she yelled pointing a finger at him, then looked down only to find that she was wearing a Japanese schoolgirl uniform: sailor top with a large red scarf under the collar, along with a pleated navy skirt and knee high socks.  "Ahh, what the fuck is this?" she asked spreading her hands around the length of her body, clearly irritated.  In the distance a bird chirped in a tree on the far side of the schoolyard where they stood.

"This is your dream, little one, not mine," he said jovially.  "Anything that goes on in here is in your hands... to an extent."

      "Okay then," she told him.  "Then would you mind telling me what the hell is going on?  You are obviously the same guy from my last fucked up dream, so who are you?  Are you some kind of ghost of a dead pedophile relative that I never met or something?"

      "A ghost?  Me?" he laughed at the notion.  "Good God, no!  Only people who are dead can come to you as ghosts.  I can't die!  Silly child!  You really don't remember me do you?"

      "Wait, what?  I don't even know your name!  And what do you mean you can't die?  Everyone dies.  Even weird-ass hallucinations that appear in my dreams.  At least I'd think they would..." she said getting lost a little too deep in thought.  "So come clean!  Who are you?"

      "I can't believe you don't remember your dear, dear Ash," he said walking towards her slowly.  He grabbed her left hand and planted a kiss on it.  She thought it burned for a second, but she shook the thought away as soon as it entered her mind.  He picked up her hands and examined them closely.  "Soft and delicate, just like your old ones, " he told her.  "And I'm glad to see there isn't anything resembling a wedding ring or anything of the sort."

      "Uh, I'm not even legal yet.  And why would I be dreaming about some creepy older guy kissing my hand and talking about marriage?" she said pulling her hands back to her sides. 

      "Ha.  No idea.  Maybe you're just a desperate virgin with daddy issues," he said with a lot less charm than he had put in his last few statements.  "But really, we do have lots to talk about.  So let's have a seat under that birch tree there and chat.  Come along!"

      He walked over to a small stone bench in the corner of the yard and she cautiously followed and had a seat.  She stared at him with one eyebrow raised and crossed her legs since she remembered she was wearing a skirt.  Ash, she thought, that sounds familiar... But that's the name of a few of my favorite characters from different things... My brain has a weird way of trying to send me signals...

      "I assure you," he said sternly, "I'm not a figment of your imagination."

      "How do you keep doing that?  Reading my thoughts I mean?"

      "Well, it's actually quite easy when one is in a dream state.  The thoughts that one has in a dream are projected much more clearly and when that happens it's quite easy to read them.  They're practically palpable things in here.  But that's something waiting for you in a far more advanced portion of your training.  For now, let's get down to brass tacks, shall we?" he asked her, crossing his legs and resting both hands on his knees.

      "Yeah, okay.  Sure.  Training.  Let me guess.  You're going to tell me I'm a witch!  Or—Or, no!  I'm a warrior princess and the last hope of a dying people in a faraway land!  Or I'm an alien and so are you and we are the last of our kind and we have to mate to keep the species alive! Or maybe—”

      "Alright, that's enough," he said stoically.  "And, yes, this is going to be the part in the terrible melodrama that is your life where the heroine gets to have the plot to the movie spoon-fed to her.  But you aren't a heroine by any means, and unfortunately this isn't the cinema."

      "Fine then," she said sarcastically.  "Blow my mind!  Bring it on you Don Juan Triumphant looking asshat!"

      "'Kay," he said taking her hand and invading her personal space bubble.  "You are mine.  Or at least you will be. Again."

      "Oh really?  And who decided that?" she asked not backing off.

      "You did, love."

      "I seriously doubt that," she scoffed. 

      "No, really.  It's all here in the contract that you drafted and signed," and he pulled the scroll from the other night out of his jacket pocket.  "See?" he asked unrolling the parchment.

      "Yeah, I can't read that.  My friend told me it's some dream restriction that my brain sets up to let me know that it's a dream."

      "Your friend sounds like a bit of an idiot," he told her.  "Here, let's try this."  And he put his finger to her pursed lips and then tapped the parchment with his finger.  The ink all ran towards the middle of the scroll and within seconds dispersed itself back throughout the document—this time in English—and extended it towards her to read. "There we go.  Sorry about that, I forgot how long it's been for you."

      "'I, Lilith, being of sound state and mind, as witnessed by my espoused, Asmodeus, do hearby swear to serve my full sentence for the crimes which have been committed against God and humanity for a period of five hundred years.'  Seriously?  'God and humanity?’  Who's the dramatic one here?  I—"

      "Dammit, girl!  Just keep reading," he sighed.

      "'Once said period has ended I shall be released to the custody of my aforementioned espoused after completing an eighteen year probationary period in an attempt to readjust my views on the plight that is the human condition.  Upon completion of said probationary period, all abilities and belongings shall be returned to my person and I shall be allowed to continue my duties as a functioning member of...'  You've gotta be shitting me.  No way.  No fucking way!"

      "Read it," he told her.

      "Oh I read it!  But you've got another thing coming if you think I'm buyin' it!" she said dropping the scroll to the ground.

      "You don't have to 'buy' anything.  It will all come back to you soon, anyway.  I'm just here to ease you into the transition," he said inching closer to her on the bench.

      "So you're telling me that I'm an angel? Or, I guess, an archangel?  I'm assuming that's what it meant by 'God's wayward militant forces,' right?"

      "Oh my poor Lili," he said brushing a small strand of hair from her cheek with a strong yet delicate hand.  "You'll always be my angel.  But I'm afraid what we are doesn't exactly fall into that category; hence the word ‘wayward’ in that phrase.  And while I did so ache for your body all these years, this new one is quite fitting.  It's so deliciously young and distracting."  He placed a hand on her knee as he spoke and she felt it move farther and farther up her thigh.  "It will help us to carry out our work much more efficiently than your last one, as charming as it was."

      "Y—You are," she said tripping over her words, "really starting to freak me out, you jerk!  I'd really like to wake up now!" 

      "I bet you would, but we aren't done talking yet," he smirked at her. "And please, 'jerk' is so formal!  Call me Ash.  I'd love to hear my name on those pretty lips of yours."  He ran his tongue across his lips as she pushed his hand off of her leg and stood up quickly.

      "Fuck you, dickweed!  That's not happening!  If you're so concerned about us talking, then fucking talk!  And make it fast!" she yelled.

      "Fine.  You're a demon.  Or to be more specific, a succubus.  You are basically God's dirty little...Well, whatever He wants you to be at the time I suppose," he laughed.  "And He doesn't really like to make that common knowledge, so until you are completely you again, I'm the middleman.  Kind of a father figure and fuck-buddy all rolled in one!"

      "A succubus?  Uh-huh.  I see," she said in a dry tone, beginning to pace back and forth.  "Like those scantily clad winged creatures with bird feet in comics and video games?  And God wants me to go around fucking people to spread 'His word' too, I suppose?  What the hell is wrong with my thought process?  Perhaps I need to get some professional help."

      "Well, not exactly," he said getting up to pace with her, ignoring her last comment. "We are needed on occasion to test the wills of the impure, to rid the world of the truly twisted among humanity, to spread a little seed where it's needed and sometimes just to fuck with people when we're off duty.  It has its perks!"

      "Uh-huh... So do I get a whip and a dungeon of my very own to call home once I turn eighteen?  Or do I just automatically sprout horns and a tail and do whatever it is that you say?"

      "You know, I'm starting to think that you aren't taking this seriously," he said stopping abruptly at her heels causing her to lose her balance and topple over, grabbing the bench seat for support.  A stream of faint orange sparks came forth from his gloved fingertips which he directed at her extremities. 

      Her hands and feet glowed a soft orange as well.  She tried to pick them up but they were glued to the spot. 

      "What the hell?" she screamed behind her.  "Totally unacceptable!"  She squirmed as hard as she could, but only found that she was making her backside more appealing than anything else. 

      "Ah, see?" Ash said in a satin laced tone.  "You are still as cute as ever—especially when you try to escape my clutches.  Seems like a reoccurring theme with you, my love."  He took off his gloves one finger at a time.  "I do so love this outfit that you chose.  It's extremely appropriate.  After all, you were a bad, bad girl.  Maybe it's time that I give you a little punishment."  He pushed her skirt up over her back, exposing her panties.  "Oh my, white cotton.  I should have guessed.  So clichéd."  He took one glove and smacked her backside as hard as he possibly could. 

      "Ouch!" she yelped.  "What are those made of?  That hurt like a bitch!  Will you stop it now?  I'll listen to your crazy story.  I promise.  Just let me up!"  He could hear the fear building in her voice.

      "If you must know they are lambskin.  Soft to the touch, but each one has some weight to it."  He smacked her again to show he was serious and to draw another less tepid sound from the back of her throat.  "You know, my dear Lilith, when the contract becomes valid, and you're released into my custody, do you know the first thing I will do?"  She let a tiny squeak escape her mouth as she felt him grab a handful of flesh above the top of her thigh through the soft, white cotton.  She froze with fear and anticipation.

      "I don't suppose it involves letting me live my life in peace and harmony?" she cried softly, her breath coming faster and harder from her heaving chest.

      He laughed again and lightly spanked her ass with his bare hand.  It stung and was distinctly cold to the touch.  This time she knew she hadn't imagined it.  She looked over her left shoulder to see what he was up to, but he was nowhere in sight.  She turned to look over her right shoulder and gasped at the sight before her eyes.  There he was in front of her, in his crisp blue blazer with his cock fully erect and right in her face.  She had never actually seen one before in person.  I suppose I'm not really seeing one in person right now, either though, she thought to herself.

      "My God, you think entirely too much, girl," he exclaimed.  "Do you like it?  Is it everything you dreamed of and more?  I know it's only six inches, but ten is just showing off, don't you think?"

      She looked up at him with large brown eyes and a shocked expression.

      "Get that away from me," she said quietly, somewhat mesmerized.

      "You know, if you really didn't want it, you would have looked away a lot sooner," he said looking down at her tenderly picking up her chin in one hand and his cock in the other.  He rested his thumb on her full lips and was positioning himself closer to them when he heard her sigh softly.  It was as though a switch went off inside of him. 

      He slapped her hard in the face and left a huge red mark on her cheek.  He zipped up his khakis and backed away slowly, releasing the bindings on her hands and feet.

      "The first thing I will do," he said pawing his hands over his face and smoothing back his dark hair, "is rob you of this body's very obvious virginity, and leave you to think about the personal hell that you put me through for the better part of a millennia as my seed runs hot down your bowed legs.  That is what I will do with you, Lilith!  Count on it!" 

      And with that he turned his back to her and stormed out of the courtyard causing a flock of birds to disperse in his wake.  He slammed the heavy door and as the sound reverberated through the corridor she was immersed in a bright white light.

*****

      She woke up clutching the pillow as the blinding sunlight disturbed her Saturday morning ritual of sleeping in until noon. She groaned and rolled over forcing Mesmer off of the bed.

      "Ugh... No rest for the wicked.  Eh, Mesmer?" she said throwing the covers to the floor. 

      She yawned and stretched and reached for the brush on her desk, when she suddenly noticed her reflection in the mirror.

      "I—I must have slept a little strangely," she said, slowly putting her hand to her cheek.  "That's gotta be it."

      And as she let her arm fall to her side she saw that the red mark on her face was something too bright and painful to be left by her pillow.