Disclaimer: these girls are mine, they may look familiar and act familiar but they are all mine. Cause we know the world is chock full o’ fine looking chicks like these, right?
Language: Plenty of it and it’s not all good.
Sex: Of course there is sex, the hot and nasty kind. Depictions of consenting adults participating in same sex unions and bdsm scenarios, so if you are vanilla, be warned that this is dark chocolate, both bitter and sweet. If it ain’t your thang, then do not pass go. Do not collect $200, just hit the road now!
Violence: Oh yeah, there is!
Any questions or comments? Email me…feed back is welcome email@example.com
~Black Cherry, 2003
By Black Cherry
Copyright 2003. All rights reserved.
Ink flowed into flesh,
The black lines birthing a new work of art, living and breathing: this canvas, the flesh of man.
Torrid Duncan loved her work. She loved inking; it made her feel in touch with something timeless, lasting, and primal. All throughout human history we have painted our bodies and adorned them with bone, glass, wood and steel. Torrid loved being a part of the modern primitive-movement. In fact, reveled in it.
When Torrid and Elektra opened their shop, it was just a shack on the side of the highway outside of a small Texas town north of Houston. But now they were located in the heart of the catchall community of The Montrose; Houston’s progressive and artistic hood.
The outline was nearly done, and soon she would begin the shading and filling. This design, an ancient Scythian tribal design, an animorph with antlers and swirling tribal decoration.
Torrid loved the Scythian motifs and had adorned herself with three of them. She noticed the popularity grew as the Eastern block immigrants who entered the American pop culture and sub cultures began to frequent the tattoo scene.
“There,” she said as she wiped down the ink on her customer’s arm, “The outline is in. I’m gonna grab a soda, then start the fill. You want something?”
“No, I am good,” replied Jarslov Korzenevski in broken English.
Torrid went to the fridge and grabbed a diet Pepsi. She closed the door and smiled as she saw the snapshot magnet of her and her best friend Elektra. She laughed to herself as she walked back into the studio to continue her session with Jarslov.
“Okay, let’s paint it black, shall we?” asked Torrid resettling into her seat.
“Da! I like ink!” said the strapping Russian man. He was in his late 30’s, an immigrant who came to the US from Russia to escape the poverty and hard times of his homeland. He came in search of his piece of the American Pie and discovered rock n roll, strippers, dope and tattoos. He always paid cash. That’s all Torrid gave a shit about.
“You know, you should have motorcycle inside.” Jarslov said breaking the silence that had settled in after the humming of the needle began.
“What? Why?” replied Torrid without looking up from her work.
“For tough guys, to sit when they get tattooed!”
Torrid looked up as if to question, Are you for real? But she thought it would be a good hook for all the macho types. The corners of her mouth drew into a slight smile.
“Maybe so. I’ll talk to Elektra about it.”
Six hours later, Elektra was closing up the shop and Torrid was cleaning her machines. The grinding beat of heavy metal music filled the shop, and Elektra pulled out a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet and two shot glasses.
“Well chica, its Friday night! Time for happy hour!” she said as she poured two shots.
“No shit, hook me up!” Torrid answered back, as she put aside her machine and walked over to the counter.
“And just to see how much of a real Amazon you are, let’s make it interesting,” said Torrid as she reached for her Zippo. “Are you a chicken shit?”
“Hell no! Light it up Sista!” Shouted Elektra.
Torrid touched her Zippo’s flame to the two shot glasses setting the alcohol aflame. She sat her lighter on the counter and curled her fingers around her shot.
Elektra likewise gripped her shot.
“Torrid, on three?”
The two women downed the shots smothering the flames with their mouths as they covered the glasses. They slammed the glasses down on the counter with a thud and gasped for air.
“WHEW! Goddammit! What a ride!”
wha? Torrid started. She had been lost in thought, remembering her partnership with Elektra all those years ago.
“What is it Drew?” asked Torrid, blankly.
“Er—nothing, you just looked all wonky there for a sec. You okay?”
Torrid snarled and downed the shot in front of her. The whiskey burned as it went down, and the rush started all over again. She exhaled loudly, then replied, “Just peachy.”
Drew knew better than to push it; when she was like this, it was better to just leave her alone. He took the last swig of his beer, then got up from his chair. “Well, I’m heading home. I’ll walk the dog before I go. See ya tomorrow. Don’t drink and drive.”
Torrid grunted in response. She was lost in thought.
You insane bitch.
Torrid remembered back to the night that her partnership with Elektra Knossoss came to an abrupt end. Torrid came to the shop in the middle of the night to work on some flash Outside there were a lot of cars in the lot, and it concerned her. She went to unlock the shop, but the door was open.
“What the fuck?” she said as she entered very cautiously.
She pulled out her 9m. That she always carried late at night, and edged her way into the shop. The lights were still off, but the back room was filled with voices. Voices with accents.
“What the fuck is going on here?” she whispered as she crept up to the door to peek in.
She saw through the ajar door; gangs of Greek and Russian hoods doing a dope deal in her back room. She was pissed! Elektra!, she thought. You fuckin’ bitch!
She saw her best friend and business partner brokering the deal. And their favorite customer, Jarslov, was her partner in crime. “Bastard!”
She was so pissed, she didn’t even think. She kicked the door open and yelled, “Okay fuckers, hands in the air!” Everyone freaked and started shooting.
“FUCK!” she cried when she felt a sudden hot blast of pain.
Torrid took one in the leg and shoulder,
Elektra’s bullets. She rolled for cover under an
old desk and emptied her clip into the feet and legs she
could see standing around her. The blaring pop of the
shots firing and the cracking of bone were sickening.
They all went down like a bag of potatoes. She limped
around disarming them and called the cops. She found
Elektra, bleeding in the corner…her ankles
destroyed by Torrid’s bullets.
”Fucking bitch, I should have killed you!” she spat at Torrid.
“I should say the same thing about you, Elektra. WHY??” she screamed.
“Because you have a code, because you are honorable-“ Elektra laughed mockingly, “It’s easy to hide in plain sight by using you for cover The tough girl with the heart of gold!” Elektra laughed.
Torrid’s face fell; she had been betrayed and used as a patsy. This fucking sucked!
“What’s wrong? Oh…you didn’t really believe all that best friend bullshit? Oh, I am sorry Torrid…people like you are easy prey. You pretend to be tough, but you are weak! Weak because you give a shit about something other than yourself.”
Torrid was devastated, but she didn’t show it. She kept her poker face, “Well you can say what you want, Elektra, but you’re the one going to jail, and babe don’t drop the soap.” Said Torrid as she stepped away for the officers to come in and take the fallen thugs, vowing never to trust another woman again.
Monica Truman walked up the steps to her small flat, and shifted her groceries in her hands while she fished out her keys. She was glad to be home as it had been a long day.
She had been in class all morning and work all afternoon. After deciding to go back to school and study cosmetology, she was a student in the morning and an accountant in the afternoon, but at night…
She was something else.
She had changed. She had spread her wings; she had broken out of her shell and really blossomed in her individuality and creativity. She had pink and purple hair! And everyone stared at her wherever she went. She loved it.
But tonight, she was tired.
She just wanted to go have a quiet dinner and a quiet cocktail. She would shower and then go to the corner watering hole, like she had been meaning to since she moved into the Montrose.
She thought about the conversation she had with her friends when she told them she was going to be a cosmetologist. They were apprehensive, but supportive.
They must have thought I was nuts, she laughed to herself. Maybe I am, but for the first time in my life I feel happy. Is that a bad thing?
She fed her fish and put away her things and headed for the shower. Maybe she would skip dinner and go right for the cocktail.
Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm, she moaned to herself as the warm water splashed over her tired body, a cosmopolitan sounded so good.
Torrid sipped her whiskey, thinking back on her failed partnership with Elektra. What had happened? Whatever it was, it was pretty ugly.
One thing’s for sure, thought Torrid, best friends make the worst enemies.
She reached into her pocket for another dollar for the jukebox, and gestured to the barkeep for another drink. She walked over to put her money in, and could feel the eyes on her as she crossed the room. She smirked to herself. Easy ladies, there’s plenty to go around, she thought wickedly to herself.
“Hmmmmmmm, let’s see,” she said as she searched the selections. “The Rolling Stones, fuck yeah!” she muttered excitedly to herself.
Monica entered the bar, showed her ID to the door girl, and took a second for her eyes to adjust to the low light and Smokey haze. The Rolling Stones “paint it black” began to fill the air, and she smiled.
“Oh I love that song!” she said as she sat at the bar.
“What can I get you?” Asked the very dyke-looking woman behind the bar.
“Cosmo…can you put it in a martini glass?” Asked Monica
“Sure, baby doll” she smiled back.
Monica took out her compact and checked her eye makeup and primped her hair while she waited for her drink.
“Here, sugar,” said the bartender as she placed Monica’s drink before her.
“Oh thanks!” said Monica as she paid and closed her purse.
Torrid walked back to her seat looking for her drink.
“Shit,” she said, “guess she
didn’t hear me.”
Torrid walked to the bar, she spied a cute piece of ass sitting with her back to her. Pink hair, she laughed to herself, now that’s fuckin cool.
Torrid let her eyes flow down, she wanted to see more of this interesting chick. Her soft creamy skin was inviting, and somehow familiar? Then Torrid saw the edges of the ink. Immediately she recognized her own work; wings spreading over the girl’s back, the wings of a Pegasus in flight as seen from above. It was Monica, the girl with the sweet ass, and boy has she changed! Thought Torrid.
She’s goddamned hot!
Monica felt the presence behind her, but didn’t turn around. She didn’t want to be bothered really; she just wanted to enjoy her drink. It had been a long day and she was tired. But the eerie feeling of someone behind her made her skin gooseflesh, and she shifted in her seat.
Just then she felt the woman lean over behind her, and whisper in her ear.
“Love the ink,” said the stranger in a low timbre.
“Uh, thanks.” Monica answered shyly.
“I’d like to see the rest of it.” Torrid added.
“Uh…I don’t think so,” said Monica, getting off her stool to turn around and face the woman. She turned to see Torrid Duncan smiling wickedly at her.
Monica gasped, “You?”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” said Torrid wickedly, “I thought I recognized your sweet ass, then I saw the ink.” Torrid touched Monica’s shoulder where the wing tips protruded from her sleeveless shell, “Mine.”
“No. Not yours. You made that perfectly clear when you never called me again. Now piss off and leave me alone!” Said Monica angrily.
Torrid stood there silently and lit a cigarette. She ordered her drink and paid the bartender. She downed the shot and turned to Monica coldly, “I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want. All alone babe. All alone.”
Monica watched as Torrid Duncan left the bar. She frowned.
“Shit!” Monica awoke when the alarm went off. She didn’t sleep well at all, and she was tired. She did not want to go to work today, but at least it was Friday. She didn’t have school, so she told her boss she would come in early this morning and finish up some pending projects. She could kick her own ass for it now.
She tossed and turned all night, it was hard to sleep on this new bed, and not to mention the girl who lived next-door fucking all damned night! She thought as she put on her robe.
She put on the coffee and walked to the door to get the paper. She unbolted the door and stepped out onto the patio just in time for her neighbor’s door to open and a dark figure emerge.
Torrid Duncan stepped out into the morning sun and squinted, looking for her sunglasses, turning her face away from the sun she saw Monica standing before her in a bathrobe, clutching a newspaper, mouth agape.
Torrid smirked, “Well, well—we gotta stop meeting like this, Monica. People will think we’re in love.”
Monica frowned and huffed, “So that’s where you wound up. Thanks for keeping me up all night!” she scolded, arms folded across her chest.
“No problem, “ quipped Torrid, “I could have done it the fun way, if you hadn’t been such a bitch at the bar.” She winked and turned to walk away.
“Hey!” exclaimed Monica, trying desperately to think of something mean to say back. She slumped her shoulders and walked back in her apartment. The tossed the paper onto the couch and held her hands up to her face and began to cry.
Torrid was right. She was a bitch.
But she was still angry. She had hoped the nights that she had spent with Torrid would turn into something more permanent. It didn’t. Even after all the time spent together while Torrid applied her elaborate tattoo, nothing. Well, she thought to herself, you can’t tame a wild beast. Or can you? Her eyes narrowed. What is it about you Torrid Duncan?
Torrid got on her bike and sat there for a moment lighting a cigarette. She was surprised to see Monica at the bar last night, and even more so to see her this morning. She was disappointed that Monica had given her the cold shoulder. Chicks usually didn’t do that to her, even if she had blown them off in the past. The chick she fucked last night was fun, but not as sweet as Monica had been, and she had wanted more, but didn’t want the hassle of a girlfriend; and that’s where Monica was heading, while Torrid was not.
What’s she want from me anyway? She thought to herself, a fucking relationship? There’s no way she would be hooking up with some chick on a permanent basis. There were too many honies and so little time. What’s so fuckin’ special about her anyway? What makes her think just because she gave me some ass that I’d fall for her? Women! She was cute though…love the hair!
Torrid flicked her cigarette butt into a nearby trash can and rode off to her shop thinking about pink hair and sweet ass.
All day Monica had trouble focusing on her work. Crunching numbers was not nearly as exciting as color lab, and learning to do perms. She really liked hairdressing and cosmetology, and had a knack for it. She dreamed of opening up an alternative full service salon that offered everything from normal cut and blow dry services to exotic colorations, custom nails, hair extensions and body modification. Even tattoos…
That made her think of Torrid. She wished she hadn’t thought of her, but her work was incredible. She was not only a talented artist, but also a designer. Her placement and colors were inspired.
She remembered the long hours spent in Torrid’s shop when she had her Pegasus applied. Torrid had a passion for horses, and suggested a Scythian tribal, but Monica wanted something softer, cuter, yet graceful and fantastic.
“It’s beautiful! said Monica when Torrid first revealed the flash to her. “When can we start?”
“Now, if you want.” Said Torrid.
“Okay…take off your shirt”, Torrid smirked.
Monica took off her top and unfastened her bra, allowing her ample breasts to fall free, as Torrid watched. She reached out and took Monica’s nipples in her fingers and pinched them hard, making Monica gasp.
“You want to work or play, baby?” she asked lustfully.
Monica’s eyes widened, as her hidden desire resurfaced and she felt Torrid’s hands pulling at her waist, claiming her into a strong embrace.
Torrid kissed Monica hard, invading her mouth and claiming it. She gripped her body tightly, nothing about her touch was soft, and it was all savage.
Torrid broke the kiss long enough to ask, “You wet for me baby?” Then hungrily claimed Monica’s mouth again, before she could even think of an answer.
Yep. She was wet.
Torrid’s hands gripped at Monica’s ass as she pushed her back on the reclining chase she used for doing full bodywork. She pressed herself heavily on top of Monica and began to grope her way up Monica’s body, until she slid her hand down between Monica’s thighs, sticking her fingers hard and deep into Monica’s wetness.
Monica moaned deep into Torrid’s mouth. She was afraid to open her eyes; afraid this would be a dream. Ever since their first encounter all Monica could think of was being taken over and over by her painted savage.
Torrid got up suddenly and flipped Monica over onto her belly, pulling off her skirt as she did so. She ripped her panties off and threw them across the room.
“Oh yeah…” she said hungrily, smoothing her hands over Monica’s ass, “This is what I want…Monica…I’ll give you the ink for free if you give me some sugar.”
Monica was shocked. She was actually being asked to trade sex for a tattoo.
“What?” She said angrily, “I am not
Torrid spanked her ass with her bare hand, and Monica struggled to get away, but Torrid pinned her down. “Yes…that’s exactly what you are…. you’re my little whore.” She whispered into Monica’s ear, making her tremble.
“Give me what I want!” Torrid growled.
Then she felt Torrid’s tongue all over her back,
moving down…waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay down! Holy
Torrid’s tongue was in her cleft, and if felt so fucking good! Monica’s heart raced, she was so wet, so aroused…
Then she felt a different sensation…the head of Torrid’s dildo, pressing between her cheeks…
“WAIT!” she yelped…but Torrid didn’t stop.
She used her body weight to pin Monica down and shoved her cock deep into Monica’s ass. Monica screamed, Torrid pushed harder, leaning in to her ear and whispering to her, “Take it for me…” Monica relaxed at the command and felt a whole new world open up. So to speak.
Torrid fucked her for what seemed like hours, and she loved it. She felt her body alive, and pleasured, the layers of tension, stress and pain, ripping away with each thrust into her. As though she were being set a flight with wings of her own.
“That’s it, you’re my little ass whore now!” Torrid said as she came. Monica felt Torrid collapse on top of her, sweat covered and exhausted. Her cock still buried deep in her ass.
Torrid pulled out and rolled over next to Monica, spent she was defenseless against the inevitable cuddle. There, they slept, Monica in Torrid’s arms ‘til the wee hours.
“Hey Earth to Monica!”
Monica started; she didn’t hear her boss come up on her.
“Wha? Oh…sorry Andy, I was just thinking about something.”
Andy, the middle aged Asian man smiled. “It’s okay, I was just going to tell you, you can go anytime. It’s Friday.”
“Have a good weekend.”
“I will. You too!” Thank god! Now I can get the hell out of here and whack off! Monica thought as she grabbed her keys and headed for the door.
In her studio Torrid put down her pencil and stretched in her chair. She looked at the clock, and smiled. It was late in the afternoon and it was Friday. She decided to cut out early and go shower and head to Chances for a drink and a game of pool, then take in a movie and make an early night of it. She promised to take Lockjaw to the park in the morning, and he remembered.
She reached down and scratched his head as he slept loyally at her feet. “Good boy—the only soul I trust on this earth.” She said softly to him, “I can’t let you down, can I?” He thumped his tail in recognition of her voice, even though he was sleeping.
She headed up to her loft and hit the shower and chose a clean pair of jeans and a white 'A' shirt to wear. She put on an old beat up straw cowboy hat that had been painted black and decorated with silver skull shaped studs. She called it her “Rob Zombie” hat. She took one last look in the mirror before grabbing her keys, “Torrid, you’re still a heartbreaker”, she laughed.
She told Lockjaw to keep watch and was out the door.
“Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Wonder where tall dark and stupid is off to now?”, Elektra whispered to herself as she watched Torrid leave her studio through field glasses. “Guess we’ll just have to find out, won’t we?” She said to herself.
“Five years is a long time, Torrid baby. Did you miss me?” She smiled wickedly and put her car into gear.
Monica unlocked the door and hurried inside before her dogs went all crazy and got out on her. The two massive chows pounced her and snorted with glee now that mama was home.
“Hey babies! Did you miss me?” she asked, setting her purse and keys on the hall table.
“Yes we’ll go for a short walk, and tomorrow we’ll go play at the park.”
She took them for a quick walk, and then headed back up to her apartment in time to grab the phone.
“Hello?” she answered.
“Hey! How are you?” Asked Sara on the other end of the line.
“I’m good; tired, but good. How about you?”
“We’re great, in fact, we want to take you to dinner, you up for it?”
“Yeah, a quiet night sounds good to me. It will be a quiet night, right Sara?”, Monica asked cautiously, remembering the last time they met up for drinks and she wound up meeting Torrid.
“Okay then, pick me up when you’re ready.”
“Will do..See you in an hour.”
The next morning, Torrid began to enter the world of conciseness; she vaguely remembered who she was and where she was, but the bright light of the morning sun in her eyes and the feel of something wet on her skin sort of freaked her out, “What the fuck?” she said as she sat up suddenly in bed.
“Oh Fuck, Lockjaw!” she shouted, wiping huge
amounts of dog drool from her arm and shoulder.
Lockjaw sat quietly looking at his mistress, waiting for his long promised day in the park.
“Okay..okay! Lemme shower first and get some coffee,” Torrid replied.
She drug herself out of bed and padded to the shower, turned the water on to heat, then went to the kitchen to make some coffee.
“Fuck. I am out of coffee.” She said as she headed back to the shower, “Guess its Agora this morning for coffee.”
A few blocks away, Monica awoke on her own. She enjoyed sleeping in on Saturdays, and got an extra two hours in this morning. She was ready to start her day, and sprang out of bed and into the shower. She had planned on taking the boys to the park after her morning coffee down at the agora.
She loved Agora. It was a Greek coffee house where all the neighborhood weirdoes would gather for coffee and conversation.
She hummed to herself in the shower, remembering the fun night she had with her friends, and enjoyed the feeling of having no stress to deal with today. Not even Torrid Duncan would bother her today.
“Oh no…I won’t be thinking of her today”, she said to herself, “Today is all about me. Torrid Duncan doesn’t even exist.”
She smiled, proud of herself and her conviction, and finished her dressing and primping and grabbed her keys.
“Come on boys,” she said to Jupiter and Mars, holding their leashes, “Let’s go to the park!”
“Okay! Goddamn, boy, calm the fuck down! Yes—yes we’re going!” Torrid tried to calm her massive pit bull, Lock Jaw. His 90 lbs was hard to handle when we was all worked up, even for her. She grabbed her keys and got pulled out the door.
Once outside, she took a moment to enjoy the scent of a beautiful morning. It was still early, the neighborhood was still quiet and the air was cool. There was a dewy frosting over everything, and the smell of baked goods and coffee permeated the air. It was a fine place to be on a day like to day, and it made Torrid feel grounded.
“I could use a nice day,” she said, “Come on boy, let’s go.”
The park was not too full, so Monica decided it wouldn’t hurt to take the dogs into the rose garden. She parked there, and proceeded in. Herman Park was a huge park with a zoo, museum, outdoor amphitheatre and many attractions; but it was also a large wooded park, perfect for running dogs and playing sports.
Monica loved to watch people playing and picnicking and frolicking. Things had been so joyless for her the past few years, and the troubles with her parents were stressful. Their drinking was taking its toll on them, and it was hard on Monica. She needed something in her life, and though wild hair and a tattoo helped her to process some of the pain, she craved something that was just out of reach.
She knew what it was, but she didn’t want to think about it. “Besides,” she said aloud to herself, “You can’t make someone love you, if they don’t.” She sighed and lost herself in thought and decided to do some people watching. She sat at an empty picnic spot and looked across the park to watch people coming and going near the duck pond.
There she spied a really beautiful dog, a huge Pitbull. He was white with piebald markings. He was lead by a beautiful woman, dark, tall, tattooed? Torrid?
Oh no way! She thought to herself, This can’t be happening! God don’t let her see me…
Torrid skipped stones across the duck pond and played and chased with Lockjaw. She loved the park and loved playing with her dog, since it gave her an excuse to be a kid again. She missed carefree times and having fun. Her life was sort of empty, and had been ever since Elektra.
She had been betrayed by someone she had given her all to. She had trusted Elektra with everything.
Testifying at Elektra’s trial was hard for her, but the Grand jury wouldn’t find her responsible if she were a willing witness for the prosecution; it wasn’t her idea of cosmic justice, more like irony. Because she had been betrayed, her testimony was in itself another form of betrayal. Ironic.
The whole thing vexed Torrid and she felt very bad about it, even after all the shit Elektra had put her through. Elektra had spent years writing threatening letters and harassing Torrid via phone and mail. Torrid finally had a restraining order put on her, but felt guilty for it. Why?
Why do I feel guilty when she fuckin deserved it? She thought to herself, because I pity her. Deep down I pity her. She’s fucked in the head and won’t ever be right.
Something was definitely missing from Torrid’s life. It was something just out of reach, and she knew it. Something so close she could taste it, but had no idea what it was.
She sat at a picnic table and let Lockjaw off his lead to prowl, and looked around the park at the other people. Torrid wondered if they had missing pieces too. She watched some people playing Frisbee. She saw a girl and her two black dogs. A girl with pink hair, cute, she smiled to herself. Pink hair, just like Monica’s.
Monica…why does she keep showing up in my life? What is it about her? She’s cute, she’s sexy, has a great ass, and knows how to put out. I don’t know much else about her…except that she is desperate for freedom. She’s longing to break free from something.
I know that because of her ink. Ink tells a lot. Ink and Steel, how they reveal.
“Come on boy,” she said to Lockjaw who had treed a squirrel, “Let’s go see this pink haired girl, and buy her a coffee.”
Monica sat watching in horror as Torrid started walking her way. She even thought of cutting and running to avoid another venomous exchange. She always seemed to get angry at Torrid and throw out some mean comment, which she later regretted. “Shit,” she said to the boys, “Time to face the music.”
Torrid walked up to her with Lockjaw at heel.
“Hey Monica, nice day ain’t it?”
Monical smiled at Torrid’s friendly demeanor, this is different, she thought.
“Uh…sure, lovely. Hey Lockjaw, how are you boy?” She said as she patted her leg for him to come get pets.
She loved this big meaty dog. Her own dogs likewise were
snorting and sniffing on Torrid who was not sure what to
make of them.
”Hey aren’t Chows dangerous?” she asked nervously.
Monica laughed, “this from a woman who has a pitbull and rides a motorcycle. Okay boys, don’t eat her all in one bite, heel.”
“Thanks,” said Torrid, “Er..I was gonna offer to buy you a cup of coffee. Sort of a peace offering, you know..for yesterday?”
“Oh really? That’s a surprise?”
“I didn’t know you felt guilty about
”I don’t, I just—you want the fuckin coffee or not?” Torrid replied sharply.
Monica furrowed her brows, she felt anger stirring in her gut, but fought it back. She though to herself that she should accept Torrid’s offer and really sit down and get to know her before she bitched her out again about fucking her and blowing her off.
“Okay. I want Agora.”
“I was going there anyway, so that works, “ Torrid grinned, “But what do we do with the dogs?”
Monica shook her keys, “My place. I’ll drive. Come on, tough girl.” She grinned and headed off making Torrid follow her. Torrid followed her. She beamed.
“What’s this?” said Elektra to herself, “Torrid walking with a pink haired girl. Who is she? Someone special, Torrid?”
She slowly followed the unsuspecting couple through the park trails to Monica’s Tahoe.
Elektra took out a pen and jotted down the license plate number and wrote a quick description of the vehicle.
She picked up her cell phone and dialed the DMV. She watched as the pair laughed, and tried to get the three dogs into the suv. While she spoke to the woman on the other end of the phone, she hatched a plot.
“Thanks a lot. You too.”
“Nice to meet you Monica. We’re going to be such good …friends.” A feral grin crossed her face, as she drove passed.
Torrid opened the door for Monica as they entered the Agora. It was cool and quiet inside, and the décor was old world, ethnic Greek. The smell of coffees and desserts filled the air, and Monica grabbed a table near the window that looked out onto the patio. In the corner a group of men sat and played board games, and talked. It seemed like every time she was there Monica saw the same men. It was nice to have consistency in things, even simple ones.
Torrid ordered an espresso for herself and a latte for Monica and brought them to the table.
“Coffee, the nectar of the Gods.” She said as she sat the drinks down.
“Speaking of which,” Monica added, and indicated the image of the Love Goddess Aphrodite poised above the table. The walls of Agora were decorated with scenes of the Ancient Greek past, somehow familiar to the duo, yet so exotic and far away.
“Aphrodite,” Torrid said, “Greek Goddess of love and sex. She’s my favorite.”
“Yeah, especially the sex part!” Monica said, then bit her tongue realizing she maybe shouldn’t have said it. Torrid seemed a little hurt. Why would she be though? She is all about the sex, thought Monica.
“Torrid, I am sorry—that was out of line.” She apologized.
“Yeah, it was.” Torrid snapped.
“I didn’t realize tough girls were so moody,” she muttered as she sipped her latte.
“Moody? I am so not moody!”
”How the fuck would you know? You don’t even know me, Miss Vanilla Ice.” Torrid said flatly.
“You’re right, I’m sorry,” said Monica, feeling the sting, “But I’d like to..” her voice trailed off as she looked into Torrid’s eyes. Torrid froze.
Shit, she thought, what do I do now? If I say anything other than yes, I am going to come off as a dick. So? Why should I care if this chick thinks I am a dick? Why should I give a shit what she thinks? Why am I sitting here having coffee with her? Because I invited her.
Why the hell did I do that? I don’t date, I fuck. Period. No matter how cute, or sexy, or beautiful she is. Or how green her eyes, or soft her skin…or sweet her mouth…
“Huh? Oh …yeah…sure.”
“Great, it’s a date then?” Monica asked eagerly.
“What? What’s a date? Did I miss something?” Torrid panicked.
“I just asked you if you would like to go to dinner, and you said sure.”
Torrid had the best deer in the headlights look Monica had ever seen. Monica knew then that Torrid didn’t hear what she was saying and fumbled into the invitation unwittingly. She secretly thanked the Goddess of love, and quietly sipped her coffee.
Torrid sipped her espresso in silence, trying to figure out where it all went wrong. What does one wear on a fucking date?
After coffee, Monica dropped Torrid and Lockjaw back at her studio and said she’d be back to get Torrid at eight.
“No, wait babe. I’ll drive. I will go to dinner with you, but I ain’t being picked up, no way-- no how! Dig?” she said, putting her foot down.
“Okay, well you know where I live, so, see ya later.” And before Torrid could protest, Monica placed a gentle chaste kiss on her lips and was gone.
Torrid touched her fingers to her lips, thinking how soft and sweet of a sensation that was, then reality hit her like a bolt of lightning, and she said to Lockjaw,
“What the fuck just happened?” he did not reply.
“No more park the rest of the week!” she said as she took him into SKIN DEEP.
Inside Drew was there getting ready to open.
“Hi boss, how was the park?”
“What happened? Lockjaw bite someone’s ass again?”
“No—I have a date with that Monica chick tonight. She fucking ambushed me into it!”
“Oh poor you, gotta have a date with a hot braud…I’d give my nuts to suffer like you,” Drew scolded.
“Oh fuck you—get to work. I’m going upstairs…to do…stuff.” With that she went up the steps to her loft. Drew looked at Lockjaw and smiled, “Good boy!”
Upstairs in her loft Torrid was going through her closet. She was looking for something sexy to wear to dinner on her “date” with Monica.
“Ha!” she huffed, “Date, indeed. I was shanghaied!”
She took out her leathers.
“Okay Monica, you want a bad girl..”, she laughed, “You’ll get one. I remember how you looked at me when I had this on before.”
She tossed them on the bed and went to her computer to check her email. One message.
It was from the parole board, notifying Torrid that Elektra is out on an early release.
“Holy shit!” Torrid exclaimed, “How long has she been out??”
All day Monica was shopping for just the right outfit. She wanted to make herself irresistibly gorgeous for Torrid; she wanted to drive her insane with desire. She had her hair done, and bought shoes. Now she just needed the perfect ensemble to finish the look, and a manicure and she would be set.
She opted to have her nails done first so that she could match an outfit to her nails. So she pulled into the parking space in front of CLASSIC NAILS, her favorite salon and went to the door, but the closed sign was up.
She turned to leave when she heard a voice call out to her;
“Be right with you,” said the woman, “Just tidying up back here—have a seat and make yourself at home.”
“Okay!” Monica yelled back.
Nancy Wu stared up at the woman who wore her smock and held her manicure kit. She saw nothing but darkness. Her eyes were empty windows. Her last vision: the face of Elektra Knossoss and blackness.
Torrid paced the floor all day, and kept looking out the window of her loft. A streak of paranoia had come over her, making her break out in a cold sweat. Elektra was out, and she knew it would bring trouble.
“Best friends make the worst enemies,” she thought to herself as she lit a cigarette. She took a drag and exhaled it slowly thinking back on the night of betrayal. Elektra had tried to kill her, without hesitation.
Would she be crazy enough to jeopardize her parole now? Had five years in prison mellowed her, or quickened her. Torrid knew how much Elektra despised her, and it made her shudder.
Fuck! What’s wrong with me?She thought, scolding herself, I am not afraid of that bitch!
Let her come! Bring it, you bitch!
She tossed her 9m onto the bed atop the outfit she had chosen for her date with Monica.
“I better cancel that until this shit is settled…Elektra is fucked up enough to…?” a feeling of dread washed over her as she grabbed the keys to her bike and headed for the door.
“I am sorry Nancy is sick today,” said Monica as she bathed her hands in the softening gel. She loved getting manicured. “Thanks for squeezing me in without an appointment, uh--?”
“Elektra. What a beautiful name. It’s Greek,
”Yes, it is,” Elektra smiled, making polite conversation with her prey. “Elektra was from the house of Atreus in Greek history. A child of Agamemnon, who died seeking vengeance.”
“wow…I’d hate to piss her off!”, chuckled Monica.
“It wouldn’t be pretty, believe you me.” Elektra purred. “So, Monica—getting all gussied up for a special night?”
“Why yes, as a matter of fact—I have a hot date. Or..a date with a hottie, however you want to look at it.” Beamed Monica.
“Oh? Tell me—“, begged Elektra, feigning girlish interest, “Tell me all about her..”
Torrid pounded on Monica’s door. No answer.
“FUCK!” Torrid said, frustrated. “Should have asked her for her cell phone number.”
She tried the door, but it was locked, so she pounded on the door again, setting the dogs off into a barking frenzy.
“Monica!” she yelled at the door, “Open the fucking door!”
“Hey!” a voice said from behind her; Torrid turned quickly on her heel to see Monica standing there holding packages and shopping bags, fanning her nails.
“I knew you were dying to see me, but I thought you could at least wait for our date, Torrid, “ Monica smirked.
“Wha? You’re okay? Where the fuck have you been?”
“Shopping—manicure; what’s up with you anyway? What’s this all about?”
“Nothing—I uh—do you have my sunglasses?”
“Uh—no.” answered Monica, flatly.
“Okay, thanks. See ya later. Don’t go
anywhere else, ‘k?”
”What the hell? Why not?” Monica asked, fumbling with her keys, “Are you on drugs?”
“No! I am not on drugs! I just—I was
Monica arched an eyebrow.
“Torrid, what the hell is going on? Where is this coming from?”
Shit, thought Torrid, I’d better get a grip on myself. I need to keep her with me as much as possible ‘til I find out what, if anything Elektra is up to.
“Sorry, stressful day—my lucky shades are missing. You know, she said pointing down to the parking lot, “motorcycle.”
Monica was suspicious, but didn’t say anything.
“Well I don’t have them. I didn’t remember you wearing them this morning. I was looking into your baby blues the whole time.”
“Ah…ha…..okay, thanks. Listen, sit tight til I get back, okay?”
“Uh sure…just, don’t take too long, ‘k?” Monica flirted.
“sure”, said Torrid as she turned and hurried off.
“Wow,” Monica said as she went into her apartment and closed the door,” and I thought I was nervous about our date!”
Torrid hurried home to change and go back for Monica. She was relieved that nothing had happened to her, she had been worried sick. She told herself it was because of Elektra, but deep down, she knew it was something more. Within a few days of seeing each other again, Monica had started to get beyond those walls. She hadn’t really even tried, but her displeasure with Torrid struck a nerve, and made Torrid sad. Now she wanted to please Monica, in some way, to make up for dissing her after her ink was finished. Tonight, she would. She would be able to kill two birds with one stone; show Monica a good time, and keep an eye out for Elektra in case she was up to no good.
Torrid let out a sigh of relief as she pulled her bike into her space at Skin Deep and hurried upstairs to change.
Elektra watched her from across the street.
“Shit.” She pouted, “the bitch knows something’s up.”
She put her car in gear and drove off, pissed. Her tires screeched as she cornered and turned onto the entrance ramp.
Torrid’s ears caught the screech, and she saw the car; her eyes narrowed.
Aha! So you are out there creeping around…the worm has just turned Elektra. Thought Torrid, a wicked smile crossed her face.
Two hours later there was a knock at Monica’s door.
“Finally!” she said, as she looked out the peep-hole, “WOW!” she said as she opened the door to see Torrid standing there clad in leather and steel studs. She wore black leather pants, a leather jacket and a white A shirt. Her belt was laden with pyramid studs and had a skull and crossbones for a buckle. She had facial piercings, which seemed to stand out more now that she was looking at her all in black. Monica’s mouth went dry, and she squeaked out a greeting, “uh..come on in!”
Torrid looked over the tops of her shades at Monica, and checked her out in a none too subtle fashion, and a wicked grin formed on her face.
“Yum,” she said as she walked past Monica and into her apartment, making Monica blush.
Torrid thought Monica looked ravishing in her retro polkadot dress and Patton leather pumps with black cherries on the sides of them. She wore thigh high fishnets and her hair was tussled and wild. She looked delicious in every way, and Torrid was now very glad she had been shanghaied. “I can’t wait for a taste of that candy”, she said as she kissed Monica’s cheek.
“Oh,” said Torrid taking a single red rose out from behind her back. “For you.”
“Uh..flowers and everything? Wow, Torrid…you surprise me.” Said Monica.
“That’s a good thing, yes?” asked Torrid.
“I’ll let you know, “ quipped Monica, sashaying to put the flower in a small vase. “You ready?”
“Uh yeah, about that…I had an idea on the way over here. You up for something different?”
“Torrid—I ask YOU out, remember? I had this whole evening planned—“ she was shushed by Torrid’s finger pressed gently on her lips; which was then replaced by Torrid’s soft lips, brushing them gently.
“Hear me out,” whispered Torrid.
Monica sighed with desire, heat rising in her. Oh yeah...okay, as long as you fuck me after! She thought to herself, but nodded to Torrid and smiled shyly.
“You got a back door, baby?” Torrid asked as she peeked out through the curtain.
“Uh…sure, through there,” she indicated the kitchen door.
“Great! Let’s go!”
Elektra sat in her car across the street from where Torrid parked her bike outside Monica’s apartment.
“Jesus what’s taking them so long?”
Monica led Torrid down the back steps of her patio and out through the courtyard gate to the street, where to her surprise there awaited a stretch limousine. Her eyes widened when she realized it was waiting for them.
“Oh…Torrid, did you?” she asked looking back at a grinning Torrid.
“Change of plans babe,” smirked Torrid, “Hope you don’t mind, but I should have asked you out a long time ago. So I am hijacking this ‘date’, and taking it over.”
The driver opened the door for Monica as she approached. She gingerly got inside and then stared at Torrid, not sure what to do or say.
“Kema Boardwalk, driver”, said Torrid through the open pane that separated the driver from the coach; then she pressed a button and the tinted panel closed. She turned to Monica who was obviously at a loss as to what to think. “Hope you like seafood, babe. It’s fresher down on the coast. You okay?”
“I’m fine—just terribly surprised, Torrid.”
“Good,” replied Torrid, “Champaigne?”
“And you’re not pissed that I took over the date?” Torrid asked as she handed a glass of bubbly to Monica.
“Hell no—this is fabulous!”
Torrid clinked her glass to Monica’s, “To us…let’s have a fun night!”
“To…US.” Said Monica in a dreamy voice; Torrid raised an eyebrow. Maybe the champaigne over did it? Ah fuck who cares, the girl’s my slave! She thought wickedly to herself.
Elektra gulped down the last of her Krispy Kreme donuts and threw the box in the backseat of her car. She hissed out a bored sigh, and looked up at Monica’s window for the unteen-millionth time searching for any sign of life.
“Bet their up there fucking right now---leave it to Torrid to ruin a date. If they don’t go out, my whole plan will be ruined! Goddamn you Torrid, I will get you! I’ll get you if it’s the last fucking thing I ever do!”
Monica looked out the window of the limo at the colorful lights of the city at night. She couldn’t believe that Torrid had hired a limo and hijacked the date, it was like a fantasy come true. She didn’t understand what was prompting this sudden change of heart in Torrid, but she was going to enjoy it for all it was worth. She fully expected Torrid to blow her off again after the night was done, but at least until then, she had her all to herself. She could use the time wisely or foolishly..Hmmmmmmm, she thought to herself, which would be more fun?
“So what’s with you anyway, Torrid?” she asked, breaking the silence that has settled in after their departure.
“Beg pardon?” replied Torrid.
“Why’d you do all this?”
“THIS—“ Monica indicated the limo, and Torrid’s outfit and hair. “I am nobody special. At least not to you—“ her voice trailed off with a peppering of sadness to it.
Torrid furrowed her brow. She reached over and touched Monica on the shoulder, and gripped it in a ham handed gesture of comfort.
“Monica, you are special. I am sorry for blowing you off, really. I just felt you wanted things I couldn’t give you. It wouldn’t have been fair of me to keep getting what I wanted, when I couldn’t give you what you wanted, would it?”
“No, I suppose not,” Monica sighed.
“But, I want to make you feel good, and have a good time tonight, okay?”
Monica was still sad, Torrid had fucked up again. Shit! She thought to herself, I can’t fucking win!
“Monica—what can I do? I don’t want to make you all sad and shit. See? I always fuck it up!” She threw her hands up, and just stared out the window.
“Wait, Torrid. I am sorry too—“ Monica said, reaching out for Torrid’s hand. She rubbed Torrid’s back and brushed her hair behind her ear. Monica wrapped her arms around Torrid’s arm and rested her head on Torrid’s shoulder. Torrid said nothing, but reached over and gently petted Monica’s hair.
They sat quietly for a long time, then Torrid leaned in and kissed Monica on the forehead.
“what was that for?” Asked Monica
“For being beautiful.” Torrid said, matter of factly.
Monica beamed inside.
The drive to Kema was pretty quiet, but when they arrived at the restaurant, the mood became lively. The Aquarium was a fancy place with a real aquarium inside and it was filled with sharks and other sea life that danced a magical ballet while patrons wined and dined around them.
The mood was romantic, but upbeat. The host seated the pair and they took a moment to get settled. Torrid lit up a cigarette and grabbed the waiter as he passed by, “Yo, hey buddy—cosmo for the lady and a jack and coke for me, thanks!” she said as she let go of his sleeve. She turned to Monica, “You like seafood, right babe?”
“Oh yes! I love it. Want to split an appetizer?”
“Sure, whatever you want.”
“Oysters on the half shell!”
Torrid went green.
“Torrid? You okay?”
“I can’t do that oyster thing, babe. They’re raw!”
“Well, suit yourself, but they are a well known aphrodisiac.”
Torrid arched her eyebrow, “No shit?”
“Yeah, haven’t you ever heard the saying, ‘eat oysters, love longer’?”
Torrid chuckled, “Oh yeah…guess so.” She put out her cigarette and took a sip of her drink, the waiter had set on the table. “Okay—the lady wants oysters, and I want another drink!”
Elektra started, she had been awakened by the sound of
her own snoring. She had fallen asleep in her car. She
looked at her watch, “What the fuck?”
She looked up to Monica’s window. No lights, and it’s way after dark…did I miss them leaving? Shit! She put her car in gear and sped off to the restaurant that Monica had told her about during their manicure.
She parked in front of the video store so she had a clear view of the restaurant.
Sea food, my favorite!…wonder if they still have dollar martinis on Wed? Soon as I Kill Torrid, I can get back to having a life, she smiled to herself. She took out her piece and began to wipe it over and over with a polishing cloth. She hummed and smiled as she thought of her bullets riddling Torrid’s body, making her dance like a rag doll. “Oh yeah, Torrid…but first, I am going to blow your fucking knee caps off!” She began to laugh, and laughed until she trembled and her laughter turned to tears. She got out of her car and stepped onto the pavement with her booted feet. She wore calf high boots with steel plating on them. They helped her to stand. She could walk, but not run. Her ankles were destroyed from Torrid’s bullets, and now she was a cripple. In prison she had a rough time of it at first, not being able to run, she was at the mercy of the bigger women and became their bitch. She had been raped more times than she could count, but began to enjoy it at some point. Elektra became as twisted on the outside, as she was on the inside. She played wounded bird, and then moved in for her kill when people felt sorry for her because of her legs. She was obsessed with revenge. Never once stopping to think it was her own fault. She lied, she betrayed a friend, she broke the law, she fucked up. But it wasn’t her fault. It was Torrid’s. Now she would make her pay.
She inched her way toward the door of the restaurant, loading the chamber with a click and chanting to herself, “Come on Torrid, bleed for me!”
“Noooooooooo! No….you do it like this—“, laughed Monica as she demonstrated for the eighth time the proper way to eat an oyster on the half-shell. Torrid grimaced, she sucked the oyster she was holding down and chased it with a shot of whiskey.
“Holy fuck!” she said, “That’s nasty!” she reached for her water glass and drank liberally from it, laughing.
“Okay Monica, you get a lot of butch points for eating raw oysters,” she chuckled,” so tell me, are they working yet?”
Monica narrowed her eyebrows and stuck her tongue out at Torrid, as she sipped her fourth cocktail.
“Hey, I guess they do…it’s a lesbian with a hard on!” Torrid jabbed jokingly.
“Oh ha ha, Torrid. I don’t need to ask if they worked on you!”
“Babe, with you…I don’t need the oysters,” Torrid smiled, as she caught Monica’s glance, they locked gazes for a long moment, and Torrid swallowed hard. She suddenly felt nervous, hungry and uncertain all at the same time; her knee bounced, and Monica noticed. She smiled inside. She didn’t want this moment to end. She knew Torrid was looking at her, really looking at her. She liked it. She smiled at Torrid, and sipped her drink, then cocked her head to one side, and looked at Torrid saying, “ I don’t need them either.”
Torrid was going to say something, but the waiter arrived with the food, and she chickened out and started eating silently. What was wrong with her? Why was she suddenly so nervous? Why was she worried? What was she worried about? Elektra? Oh fuck no, Elektra was off chasing her tail right about now! Then what? Monica….
I don’t want her to be angry at me, or upset with me, or think bad of me. I want her to…
“What?” asked Monica, jolting Torrid from her thoughts, and she knocked over the basket of rolls.
“Shit!” Torrid swore, picking up the bread.
“Torrid, it’s okay, take it easy. Is
something the matter?”
”Monica—there’s something I want to say. I know I was an asshole in the past, and I know I hurt you, but I never meant to, I just..” she shifted uncomfortably in her chair.
“Just what, Torrid?” Monica was deeply interested in what she had to say.
“I uh..Monica, look, this isn’t easy for me,”
“I know, but I need to know what’s on your
”Yeah, okay. Look—here’s the deal: I never wanted any kind of relationship with any girl. I didn’t think I did anything to lead you on, I told you what I was about when we met, and every time we-f—er—were together. And I didn’t want any long term relationship, or heavy commitment. When the ink was done, I figured that was that.”
Monica nodded, but it was obvious she was hurting inside.
“Wait,” Torrid said, “Let me finish?”
“When I saw you the other day, I couldn’t get you out of my mind. I missed you after you didn’t come around anymore, and seeing you again made me think, maybe I was wrong.”
“What? Wrong about what? You lost me,
”Wrong about you—“
“Monica, I had assumed you were a preppy chick who was slumming, getting a tattoo and a good hard fuck from a leather dyke.” Torrid said, sheepishly.
“I was, Torrid. When we first met, I was.”
Torrid looked hurt, but nodded. Thinking and knowing it were two different things, and Torrid’s walls weren’t as thick as she thought they were. Monica had hurt her in a way she couldn’t imagine. As much as Torrid knew she was a walk on the wild side for many women, the one you don’t take home to mother; she resented it. As much as she herself encouraged others to think that, as easy as it made it to live a rock star existence, it really wasn’t what she wanted. Not deep down.
“But Torrid, “ all that changed. “I like you, you’re hot, sexy and gorgeous, yes. The bad girl fantasy come to life, Hell yes! But, you’re an artist, you’re smart and sweet.”
Torrid flinched at being called sweet.
“Oh stop!” scolded Monica. “My point is…I asked you out to get to know you more. I don’t expect anything out of you that you’re not willing to give me. So don’t go all deer in the headlights and be uptight. And I am NOT a preppy chick. I am a rivet head, thank you very much!”
“Okay—having said that, that’s cool and I can hang. But let me finish. I want to get to know you too. I see the changes in you since the last time we f—er…saw eachother. You’re on a personal journey. I see your growth and your determination and it pleases me. You’re stubborn and you’re spunky and I love that! You are cute, and sexy too. And hot…woman you are hot!” Torrid winked.
Monica blushed. She wanted to pinch herself. What had happened to Torrid?
“You. You happened to me.” Torrid said, reading her mind. They sat smiling at eachother.
Shots rang out, chaos ensued. People dove for cover or ran for the exit, but the couple sitting quietly in the corner was taken totally by surprise when Elektra reloaded and approached them from behind. “Reunions are such fun. How’s life been treating you, Torrid, miss me?” Elektra said as she walked around to face the figure in leather…
“Oh my god! Torrid what’s happening?” Monica said, panicked.
“What the fuck? Elektra! She’s insane!” Torrid said.
“You know her? She gave me a manicure today! Oh my god!”
They watched the news feed on the wide screen tv that was over the bar. There was a shooting in progress at a seafood restaurant in the Montrose.
Torrid jumped up from the table and threw a stack of money down grabbing Monica by the arm, “We gotta get the hell outta here! I’ll explain on the way! I gotta stop her!”
“Stop her?! Torrid, let the police handle this!” Monica said, afraid.
“Monica if she hurts anyone, it’s my fault! I gotta stop her!”
Elektra’s face fell. “Where the fuck is Torrid?” She screamed.
The man trembling at the table shrieked back, “Who the fuck is Torrid?! Lady you’re fucking nuts!”
Elektra opened fire and emptied her clip.
“Don’t call me nuts.” She said, and ran out the back door through the kitchen. She’d have to ditch the car later. She walked down the street and climbed a stone wall that surrounded an old Victorian house and hid herself in the pool house. She sat in the dark reloading her clips.
Oh Torrid, Torrid, Torrid…you outsmarted me, didn’t you? But I’ll get you…and your little bitch too! She smiled a feral grin, Dear little Monica!
“Oh no you don’t!” Monica said,
“I am not going home, I am going with you! What if
you get yourself killed?”
”What if I get you killed? Monica don’t argue! Do as I say!”
“Torrid Duncan, no one tells me what to
”Monica—for fuck sakes! Please ..I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you! I just got you, I don’t want to lose you! Now you’re going home!”
Monica blinked, Torrid’s words sunk into her, she nodded. She didn’t argue any further, accept to add, “ Okay. But I am calling the police.”
“Fair enough,” said Torrid, “Driver, can you go any faster?”
It was after midnight when the limo pulled into Monica’s driveway, and Torrid paid the driver and walked Monica to her apartment. She made Monica go in and lock the door and she went down and got her bike, and headed to the site of the shooting. The police had already cleared the crowd away and the CSI was inside gathering evidence. She rode passed and noticed the car that she saw Elektra in still parked in front of the video store.
Cops are so fucking stupid, she thought to herself. She’ll be back for the car tomorrow, and I’ll be waiting.
Monica paced the floor, she was worried sick about Torrid. She was terrified that something bad would happen to her. Torrid had told her everything about Elektra in the car on the way back, and Monica cringed at Elektra’s insanity. She thought about the manicure, how Elektra had gotten her to tell her everything about their evening.
They’d both be dead now, if Torrid hadn’t –“Oh god..she saved my life!” Monica thought out loud.
Suddenly her door knob turned and she heard the click. She froze. Then there came a pounding at the door.
She looked out through the peep hole to see Torrid standing there, and threw the door open, “Oh thank god! Torrid, get in here!”
“Glad to see me?” Torrid said sheepishly.
“I was worried sick! What happened? Are you okay? Where’s the psycho bitch? Did you talk to the cops? Torrid—“ Monica was suddenly silenced by Torrid’s mouth covering hers. Torrid kissed her deep, and harder with each descent into the kiss. Torrid held her close and devoured her mouth like she had never tasted Monica before. “It’ll be okay, babe, I promise,” Torrid said into Monica’s mouth.
Monica surrendered completely to the kiss, feeling herself release all the tension and fear to Torrid’s touch.
“Oh god Torrid—I need you!” Monica
gasped, “Take me, please? Take me!”
Torrid kissed her hard again and began to undress her, but fumbled at the buttons and snaps. She picked Monica up kicked the bedroom door open. She carried Monica to the bed and laid her down on the soft fluff of linens. She continued to kiss her only more tenderly and passionately as she moved her body on top of Monica. She worked the buttons lose one and a time, but for Monica it was agonizingly slow. Monica was wet, throbbing and trembling with need.
Torrid took her time, it was different somehow. Torrid didn’t want to just fuck Monica, she wanted to worship her, to feel, smell and taste her, to absorb her into herself and feel her like a second skin.
“Please, “ Monica begged, “I need you inside me!”
Torrid kissed Monica’s neck, and whispered in her ear, “Monica, I want all of you…not just your sweet cunt, I want all of you. Will you give it to me?”
“Yes baby, take it ..take it all, fuck me!”
Torrid pulled back and looked Monica in the eyes, “No.”
Monica’s eyes opened and she looked deep into Torrid’s. She gasped at the intensity of Torrid’s gaze. It was like looking into a bowl of blue diamonds. But she could see the passion and emotion along with the desire. She new what Torrid was asking. She nodded, “Make love to me Torrid.”
Elektra sat in the shadows. She had to wait til morning to get the car and stash it. She didn’t want to risk getting caught before she had a change to blow Torrid to kingdom come. She’s probably up there right now fucking her little piece of ass! Well enjoy your pussy Torrid, it’s the last you’ll ever have! She chuckled to herself and sat with her knees drawn up to her chest, rocking back and forth and humming. She was totally insane. She sat for a long time then finally exhaustion claimed her and she fell into fitful sleep. Her hand fell to her side and the gun slid free from her grip. Outside,
A patrol car drove up and down the street, lights spilling over the walls of hedge and the muffled sound of the police radio, this played on into the night.
Torrid held Monica tight to her as she thrust into her. A sweet rhythm drove her, and she was covered with sweat as she gave herself over to the passion. Tears filled the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them away and continued to stroke herself into Monica. She was so close to cumming she was trembling.
Monica held her close, and arched her back so that Torrid’s dildo would go deeper and harder into her. She needed Torrid deep inside her, she wrapped her legs around Torrid’s waist and crossed them again around her hips. She held on to Torrid as she rode her.
Monica was crying, she couldn’t hold in the emotions anymore, her moans gave way to wails, but Torrid didn’t stop. She knew Monica was having a release, so so thrust harder and harder.
Finally Monica’s wailing gave way to loud vocalizations as she came over and over, and she relaxed into Torrid’s thrusts. Torrid stroked her until her pussy was numb, but didn’t stop. Torrid needed to release inside Monica, she needed to hold her and feel her all around her when she came.
Monica kissed her beaded cheeks and brushed her sweat soaked hair out of her eyes. She whispered sweet nothings in Torrid’s ear, and when she sensed Torrid was at the threshold she took her over the edge, “It’s okay baby…I’ve got you!”
With those three words, Torrid’s damn broke. She came so hard she shuttered and let go of a long loud cry. She trembled and collapsed on top of Monica. Monica kissed her face and held her. She cried silently, Monica said nothing, she held her and felt Torrid’s tears falling on her skin. She petted her until she fell into slumber. Monica rolled Torrid over and covered her with the soft sheets and wrapped herself around her sleeping Amazon.
She stroked Torrid’s hair as she slept and whispered softly, “I love you.”
The lovers slept til the wee hours of the morning under the watchful eyes of an angel. She was touched at the blissful repose of the pair, how they instinctively cuddled and fit together as two became one. She watched, and her stomach turned. She was filled with loathing and jealousy and a hunger for revenge that matched no other. Elektra stood over the pair, polishing her gun with a soft cloth from Monica’s bathroom.
When she had tortured herself sufficiently, she decided it was time to wake the lovers. It would be so easy to kill them now, she thought, they’d never see it coming. I want them to see it! I want them to meet death with their eyes wide open! I want them to know it was me who sent them there!
She began to tremble she was so angry, “WAKE UP!” she shouted.
Torrid shot up, groggy and disoriented, she heard the clicking of the 9m being cocked and felt it’s cold against her head.
“Oh Torrid, my dear, dear friend….” Elektra hissed, “It’s been sooooooooooooooooo long!”
Torrid stiffened at the sound of Elektra’s voice. She instinctively held Monica tighter to her.
“Elektra—why are you doing this?” asked Torrid.
“WHY? BECAUSE YOU FUCKED UP MY LIFE AND IT’S TIME FOR PAY BACKS, BITCH!”
“Oh no! YOU fucked up your own life! When are you
gonna see that? After all this time, you’re still
wearing your Teflon suit!”
Elektra was pissed! She hit Torrid across the face with the muzzle of her gun, and Monica, bucked up, “HEY! DON’T TOUCH HER!”
Elektra put the muzzle to Monica’s forehead, “I’m sorry, did you say something?” She blinked and smiled, and cocked her head to the side. “I didn’t think so. Listen Monica, this is between me and Torrid. You want to live, you go sit your ass in the corner while I finish up with this cunt!”
Torrid turned to Monica, “Do what she says.”
”Do it now!” Torrid shouted. Elektra laughed.
Monica slowly backed herself into the corner and sat in the chair there. She remembered her cell phone was in her purse, if she could just get to it , she could call 911.
Elektra continued to beat Torrid with the gun, pistol whipping her and taunting her. Monica was amazed at the level of self control Torrid had. She kept her cool, even when she was being tortured. I am about ready to kill that crazy ass bitch! She thought to herself. She had a plan.
“Uh excuse me—Elektra, right?”
Elektra turned to look at Monica, “what is it sweetie?” she mocked.
“Uh…I gotta pee?” Monica said holding her bladder. “Too many cosmos.” She said sheepishly. Elektra sighed. She waved her gun in the direction of the bathroom.
“Hurry up Princess!” she mocked.
Monica reached for her purse, Elektra leered at her, she shrugged, “Tampons.”
Elektra rolled her eyes. Monica walked into the bathroom and closed the door. Elektra braced a chair under the knob, “Why don’t you just stay there for a while, Monica?” She turned back to Torrid, “Now, where were we?”
Torrid looked up at her, she smiled a wicked smile, “Alone at last.”
Elektra was puzzled. She realized her mistake. Shit! Monica…she was in the room, now she’s out of danger!
She turned and fired three shots through the bathroom door.
“NO!” Torrid screamed, and she dove for Elektra, tackling her to the ground. She grabbed Elektra’s gun hand and smashed her wrist against the iron bed frame. Elektra screamed, Torrid kicked the gun away and pulled Elektra up by the hair, then punched her in the face repeatedly!
“You fucking bitch!” she said as she beat her, “ Five years you tormented me! Five fucking years!” Elektra was laughing.
“Torrid if you think I am afraid of a beating, you’re stupid.”
Torrid stopped. She pulled Elektra up by the hair and sat on the bed and pulled her down over her knee. She sat there on the bed naked with Elektra over her knee.
“What the fuck are you doing, Torrid?”
You’ve been a bad girl, Elektra—very bad!” Torrid said as she pulled her belt from the nightstand. Elektra squirmed, she was freaked out. This didn’t make any sense.
“Torrid, let me go!”
”Oh no baby, you got a spanking coming! First I’m going to spank you—then I am going to fuck you up the ass dry and then…” Torrid reached for the gun and put it to Elektra’s temple, “Then, I’m going to blow your fucking FUCKED up insane brains out, you FUCKING BITCH!”
“Can we skip the first two and go right to the end?” Elektra mocked.
POP! She screamed.
“count them out for me babe!”
POP! Scream. POP! Scream.
“STOP!!!” Elektra screamed, “FUCK YOU!”
Torrid pulled Elektra up off her lap, by the hair, and slapped her so hard across the face, she dropped to the floor. Torrid put the gun to Elektra’s lips, “Open wide baby, you’re gonna give me a blow job!”
She forced the muzzle into Elektra’s mouth. “Now you suck it nice for me, and I’ll kill you quick! You fucking cunt! You killed everything I ever loved! What did you think? That this would be easy? You stupid arrogant INSANE BITCH! You’re fucking going to die!” She began to squeeze the trigger, when there came a pounding on the front door. Torrid looked away only for a second, but that’s all Elektra needed, She kicked Torrid in the groin and knocked the gun away from her. She reached down into her steel boot and bulled out a razor. She began to slash at Torrid, cutting her flesh again and again. Torrid was backing away trying to block Elektra’s unrelenting slash assault, she backed into the corner and tried to fend off her attacker. Elektra cut Torrid across the eyes and she fell back into the corner covering her face. “FUCK!” Torrid screamed.
Elektra was off the deep end. She was completely whacked. “I am going to make ribbons of you! Ribbons! Ribbons! Ribbons!”
Inside the bathroom, Monica edged her way out of the bathtub. She had laid down in the tub to make her call to 911, and stayed there. Shit, I’d be dead now if I had really had to pee! She thought, as she tried the door. Fuck! What’s going on out there? I gotta get out of here and get help! That fucking bitch will Kill Torrid! She decided the window was her best bet. She climbed out the window onto the ledge. There was an old Oak Tree just out of reach, if she could make it, she could come up the back steps. She jumped and missed, and fell headlong into the hedges with a thud. She was unconscious.
Upstairs, Torrid struggled for her life.
“Here’s one here…cover me!”
Monica could hear the voices around her, but she couldn’t find the strength to move. She opened her eyes, she was laying on her back, faces were all around her. She tried to speak, barely a whisper came out.
“What’s that?” asked the voice of a man.
“Help Torrid…please?” a weak plea she managed to squeak out, “my –girlfriend is up there, help her?”
The officer spoke into his radio:
“There’s someone still up there—shots fired and some activity going on upstairs. The girl says her girlfriend is still up there with the assailant. There’s a gun in the room. Yeah. Copy that.” <CLICK>
The Officer leaned over Monica as the EMTs put her on a stretcher, he whispered to her, “Try not to worry—we’ll do all we can.” Monica squeezed his hand.
Upstairs the pounding at the door became so loud it finally distracted Elektra from her work.
“Godammit! If it’s those Goddamned Jahovah’s witnesses again!” she sniped, then turned to Torrid who was tied to the chair bleeding and cut up pretty badly.
“Don’t move lover,” she said, loading her clip and inserting it into her stock, “I’ll only be a moment!”
“Don’t rush on my account,” Torrid mocked.
Elektra blew her a kiss, then crept to the front door and emptied her clip through it, scattering the police like marbles who were standing on the other side of it. “Who is it?” She asked in a cartoon granny voice.
“Fuck!” yelled a downed officer, holding his leg, “Kick it down—get that bitch!”
More cops moved in and busted the door off it’s hinges, they moved in to find Elektra standing there reloading.
“Bad—bad, Mama spank!” she said as she popped her clip in and raised her arm to fire.
“Don’t you fuckin move bitch!” the officer yelled.
“Oh fuck you—I have two hostages, pigs!” Elektra countered, “So back the fuck on out of here, or you’ll be needing more body bags!”
Meanwhile, Torrid worked her way out of the restraints and limped to the bathroom door. She kicked the chair out from under the knob and entered to find the room empty, and the window open. Tears of relief ran down her face, “Monica—I love you!” she whispered to herself.
She went to the pile of crumpled up clothes that she had left in the floor when she and Monica got naked, and found her 9m. Fuck me for not putting it under the pillow, that bitch’d be worm’s meat by now!
She put a round in the chamber, she crept to the bedroom door and slowly opened it….
Elektra was taunting the police, telling them how she was torturing one hostage and the other was probably bleeding to death on the bathroom floor, but they’d just have to wait and see, wouldn’t they?
“Hey Elektra,” Torrid said from behind her. She spun around and before she could raise her arm, Torrid fired. Two shots to the head.
“I can see right through you, bitch!” Torrid quipped as Elektra fell to the floor lifeless, her brains oozing out the baseball sized hole in her face.
Torrid dropped her gun to the floor, and said, “Yo cops…come help now! Put your fuckin’ donuts down!” She collapsed.
It was over.
Epilogue: Put the lime in the coconut
Torrid Duncan dreamed while the gentle ocean breeze brushed her hair back and forth across her face. She fell asleep in the hammock that hung from the palm tree outside the beach house. Her feet crusted with white sand, and her linen trousers and shirt wrinkled comfortably with wear. She was for the first time in a long time, content.
She relaxed into slumber while losing herself in the beauty of the island. All her life she had dreamed of coming to the Caribbean, and now…at long last she was here; on her honeymoon.
A smile crossed her face as she dreamed about her new bride. Monica Truman. She was so beautiful, so smart, and so naked. Her smile grew wicked and she chuckled a little in her sleep.
“Oh Torrid, you are thinking naughty thoughts even in your sleep,” said Monica as she approached to see her wife smiling wickedly in her sleep. “Maybe I can wake you up, the fun way!”
Monica sat the fruity rum drinks on the table and removed her cotton sarong. She was wearing a two-piece bathing suit that was made of lace and very sheer. She was a vision,
She was a painted woman in a lace bikini. Patch-working her body, here and there were intricate, colorful ink-works, courtesy of Torrid’s skill. Glistening in the sun were her piercing, accenting the beauty of her face and form. She loved the way she looked, and smiled thinking back to the time when she called Torrid her, “exterior decorator”.
She leaned over and gently blew into Torrid’s ear. Torrid shifted in her sleep and licked her lips.
Monica smiled. She was the one in control now. She lived for moments like this, when her leather clad Amazon was helpless and all hers.
Yes, you are indeed mine, Torrid. All mine. She thought to herself as she lowered her lips to press against Torrid’s.
This kiss was soft, inviting and sweet. It held the weight of butterfly wings and the passion of creation.
Torrid felt it through the fog of dreams, and knew it was her lover summoning her from repose. She felt her heart swell; it was the sweetest call home this warrior had ever known. There was only one thing to do…play opossum!
Monica was more persistent, she wanted her lover and she wanted her now. She wanted to feel Torrid’s strong arms around her, taking her.
She reached over for the drink she sat on the table and stuck her finger into its chilly froth. She then traced her sweet digit over Torrid’s lips. Torrid instinctively licked her lips, and as they parted, Monica inserted her finger, and Torrid sucked it in. Torrid opened her eyes….she smiled as she sucked and teased Monica’s finger….playing with her tongue ring against her soft skin and painted nail.
Monica began to feel a chill, her body shivered and her nipples hardened. Torrid had turned it around on her…just like she planned!
“Come here!” said Torrid, pulling Monica into the hammock with her. She kissed her hard and passionately, and groped her. “You’re mine…”
Suddenly, she felt searing pain in her side! She screamed!
“Torrid Can you hear me? Torrid! It’s me….
TORRID DUNCAN, WAKE THE FUCK UP!!”
Torrid jerked up, awake…”What the fuck?” she said, feeling excruciating pain, unable to move. She was cold, shivering.
“Where am I?” she asked, her voice was weak.
“Torrid, Torrid I am right here…over here!”
Torrid tried to raise her head, she looked over to see Monica strapped to a stretcher next to her. She realized they were in an ambulance. “Monica? What happened, are you okay?”
“It’s okay,” said the EMT, “you’re both going to make it. You lost a lot of blood, we thought we’d lost you there for a second.”
“Where’s that bitch?”
“Don’t you remember? You shot her. She’s gone.”
Torrid sighed with relief. The nightmare really was over. Monica was okay, save a few bumps and bruises, and a light concussion.
A few days later, Torrid woke up to find Monica in her hospital room. She had watched over Torrid while she slept the past few days.
“I’m f-fucking f-freezing,” Torrid whispered. She looked over at Monica, “Babe it’s too cold here, let’s go to the Caribbean.”
“Anything you want, honey. But does this mean you want to see me again?”
Torrid laughed, “Monica, I never want to be without you. There’s something I realized in all of this—I think, I mean—I..”
“Yes?” Monica asked, hopefully
“Fuck, I don’t know what tomorrow will bring and I don’t know how to say I love you in any romantic or cool way—but—“
Monica kissed Torrid’s lips quieting her. She looked into Torrid’s pale blue eyes and squinted as she smiled.
“Oh baby, you just did.”