Message-ID: <43007asstr$1056053405@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: X-Original-Message-ID: <20030619145146.8631.qmail@web20512.mail.yahoo.com> From: Kalisha Connors MIME-Version: 1.0 X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Thu, 19 Jun 2003 07:51:46 -0700 (PDT) Subject: {ASSM} Kalisha and the Tricks {Kalisha Connors} (FF, MF, ds, cons, anal, exhib, fetish) Date: Thu, 19 Jun 2003 16:10:05 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: newsman, dennyw Kalisha and the Tricks (c)2003 by Kalisha Connors This story follows "Kalisha Turns the Tables" but can be read by itself. There's more sex in this one. Enjoy! Kalisha Connors tossed in her bed, throwing off the red satin sheets. Something was missing. It was morning-- Saturday morning, in fact, she could sleep in. A glance at the clock told her it was nearly noon. She had been out dancing at the 360 club until three the night before, and then Wendy and Cindy and she had picked up a couple of guys for a menage a cinque, and she got home just in time to beat dawn. Slowly, she sat up and stretched her long body. She rolled over, opened a drawer, pulled out a loose t-shirt. That's not right, she thought. I should find something sexy, something more befitting the chosen of the Goddess of Lust. Nothing is clean, though. I should go to the laundromat-- or send Cindy. That, realized Kalisha, was what was missing. Each of the last five mornings Cindy had woken her up with an orgasm. It had been strange, at first, having Cindy around, because Kalisha didn't regard herself as the domineering type, but there were advantages, and one of which was having the pretty blonde lick her pussy every morning. Beat the hell out of the alarm clock. She's probably still asleep, thought Kalisha. She relucantly pulled on the t-shirt and went to get herself some breakfast. The smell of fresh pancakes greeted her in the kitchen, and sure enough there was a pile of flapjacks on a plate on the white kitchen counter, along with a tall glass of orange juice. A note next to them read in flowing script: "Gone to do laundry." Kalisha smiled, and sat down with her breakfast. The pancakes were still warm. Kalisha had just smothered the pile of pancakes with maple syrup when the fire alarm rang. Her building was an older one, not far from downtown. There were three floors, with a shoe store at the bottom and two apartments on each floor above. Pressed close to the buildings on either side, a fire anywhere on the block would quickly spread from building to building. Kalisha pushed the pancakes away, warding off their beckoning aroma with difficulty. She ran in bare feet out the front door, joining her neighbors in a dash down the stairway. Everyone else, however, was dressed, and as she stood outside on the street corner, cool wind whipping down the narrow Georgetown street, she was keenly aware that her t-shirt only just covered her ass if she held it down with both hands. From the stares of the passers-by, and the furtive glances of the neighbors, she wondered if even that was enough. No doubt they had caught on eyeful when she had been running down the stairwell, her thoughts only on escaping a possible fire. It wasn't until the fire truck arrived that someone offered her a jacket to help cover her. In the end, it had been a false alarm; the "break glass in case of fire" glass was shattered, and the owner of the shoe store said he had seen a short man with dark hair and glasses running down the stairs just before just before the alarm went off. Great, thought Kalisha. A prank. I wonder if he enjoyed the view? Her pancakes were cold and the syrup congealed when she finally got back to the kitchen table-- which was after she got a pair of jeans on. She ate a couple, anyway, and then the phone rang. After ten minutes on the phone with an old friend, the pancakes were colder and looking even less edible. She tossed the rest in the trash, finding a few old magazines to throw away on top of the pancakes so that Cindy wouldn't see them. *** "Thanks for the pancakes," said Kalisha, when Cindy returned. Cindy wore yellow short-shorts, a tight pink t-shirt, and was obviously braless. Kalisha stared at the bouncing breasts. It wasn't Cindy's fault that the pancakes were cold when she'd finally gotten to them. "You're welcome," said Cindy, cheerfully, giving her chest a little wiggle for Kalisha's benefit. She was pulling a large duffel bag, which she shoved against the wall, and then looked over at Kalisha. "I did laundry," she said, "Since you weren't up. I met a nice boy-- he kept staring at my breasts, but he had some stuff that's supposed to stop static-cling, and he shared." "You missed the fire drill," said Kalisha. "I ended up going out with just a t-shirt on." "I wish I'd been there," said Cindy with a grin. "As if you don't get to see my ass enough," Kalisha retorted. "Besides, maybe I would have made you give me your shorts." "Now I'm *really* sorry I missed it," Cindy said. "Anyway... a friend of mine from college called -- Persephone -- and she invited me to go clubbing with her tonight at a place called Crypt. It's Goth, which isn't my scene, but I haven't seen Persephone for a while. You're welcome to come, too, if you like." Cindy grinned. "I have black clothes. Sure." She paused. " Do you like my hair blonde?" Kalisha blinked. "That's out of the blue. It's fine. But if you want to stop bleaching it, I can understand. Whatever you want." "It's not that, exactly-- it's just that thinking of where we're going, I mean, the big hair white trash look isn't so in there, you know." Kalisha shook her head. "If you think of your hair as a white trash look, then you should definitely change it. In fact, I order you to change it. I take it the hairstyle was your soon to be ex-husband's idea." Cindy nodded. "Yeah." "Then do something radical with it. I'll make sure he gets to see the new you, sometime soon." Cindy laughed. "Poor man. Although he deserves it." For two years, Steve Wilcox had kept Cindy as his personal sex slave, blackmailing her into marrying him. Wilcox tried to blackmail Kalisha, too, but Kalisha turned the tables. Part of that involved convincing Wilcox that his pretty wife had decided to become Kalisha's slave, and now they had to act the part. Except that Cindy seemed to want it to be more than just acting. "Let's fold the laundry," said Kalisha. "The last time I went clubbing with Persephone, I wore a baggy black t-shirt and black jeans. She made me promise her I'd dress a little sexier, this time. I think she's trying to fix me up, or something. 'Dress to kill' she said." "I think we can manage that," Cindy said, opening the laundry bag. She froze. "Oh, no," she said. "I must have gotten someone else's laundry by mistake." She held up a child sized tank top. "Let me see," said Kalisha, plucking a bra out of the bag, and then a pair of tiny panties. "There's something strange here, because I don't think this bra would actually fit anyone old enough to have breasts." Cindy blinked, taking out a pair of shrunken jeans. "My God. It *is* our stuff." "Goddess," corrected Kalisha. "It's all shrunk." Cindy's eyes widened. "The static cling!" "Huh?" "The guy in the laundromat," explained Cindy. "The stuff he gave me must have shrunk the clothes. Oh Kalisha, I'm so sorry." "What a nasty trick," said Kalisha. "It's not your fault. Let's go see if he's still there." They raced across the street, eliciting a few honking horns. Cindy looked around the laundromat, and so did Kalisha, although she wasn't sure who she was looking for. "He's not here," said Cindy. "Ask if anyone saw him, or borrowed his whatever it was," suggested Kalisha. "We can at least warn people. What did he look like?" "Short guy, dark hair, glasses," said Cindy. She made the rounds, but apparently no one else had talked to the guy. No one even remembered seeing him do any laundry. "Figures," said Kalisha. Cindy nodded. "I feel so stupid." Kalisha smiled, "Don't. It could have happened to anyone. For now, though, I need to go clothes shopping, or I'll have nothing to wear for tonight. Thank goodness my business suits get dry cleaned." Cindy smiled. "Maybe you can pick up some clothes for your other job, while you're at it." During the day, Kalisha worked as an accountant for the firm of Ferris, Johnson, and Thoms. At night, she was an exotic dancer at the 360 club. She had been living a double life ever since she had broken up with her old boyfriend, John, and had her drunken binge interrupted by a woman who claimed to be the goddess of love. The goddess, who Kalisha usually thought of as Aphrodite, although she had given her other names-- Freyja, and Ishtar, for example -- was more a goddess of lust than of love, Kalisha suspected. But as Kalisha indulged in her sexual fantasies, the goddess got something out of it. In return, she had given Kalisha the ability to sense the lustful desires of those around her -- not always a blessing -- and enough energy to party all night even after working all day. Kalisha smiled. "Good idea." "I'll go to the hairdresser's while you go shopping, if that's okay," said Cindy. She paused. "Mistress?" Kalisha still wasn't used to being addressed that way. "What?" "While you're shopping, could you pick me up something for tonight, too? Whatever you pick, I'll wear it." She pulled her wallet out, and handed over one of several credit cards. "All the clothes are on me." Kalisha felt Cindy's desire grow, as the thought of being Kalisha's dress-up toy went through her mind. Cindy was hoping to be pushed to the edge of decency. Even the act of giving Kalisha carte-blanche with her credit card was erotic to Cindy. "Be careful what you wish for," said Kalisha, doing her best to leer. "I'll meet you back at the apartment for dinner." *** Kalisha had walked by Night Pleasures before, but had never actually gone in. Her old boyfriend, John, had made a point of crossing the street to avoid walking to close, as if a look inside the windows alone would corrupt the tender soul he liked to imagine Kalisha being. So when Kalisha walked inside and was confronted by the barrage of dildoes, whips, ben-wa balls, and restraints, Kalisha blinked, skipped a breath, and looked the other way-- where the expanse of lace, latex, and leather lived, in improbable shapes and configurations. Giving up on looking left and right, she took a couple steps straight ahead towards the sales counter, where nipple jewelry was the special du jour, advertised with pictures of topless women with silicone enhanced breasts. Behind the counter was a refreshingly normal looking woman, nearing middle age, with short hair almost as dark as Kalisha's midnight black locks. "May I help you?" asked the woman. Kalisha mumbled, "A friend told me to dress to kill, so I'm here." The sales lady looked like she heard some of what Kalisha said, but not quite all. "You're tall, nice figure," said the woman. "And I love your eyes. What you need is something in black." "That should work, since I'm going to a goth club." The woman smiled. "We'll definitely skip the pink, then. How do you feel about leather?" "Vinyl would be better," said Kalisha. She didn't like the idea of wearing another animal's skin. As the woman turned to rifle through the dresses for something that might fit, Kalisha took a breath and composed herself. Why am I being skittish? That's the old me, she thought to herself. This is a temple to lust, and I'm lust's priestess. This is my domain. "Actually," she told the woman, who came back with something long and stretchy, skin tight but showing almost no skin, "I was looking for something more revealing. And something for my slavegirl, too-- she's a bit shorter than me. And what do you have in the way of collars?" Over an hour later, with a pile of clothing on the counter, Kalisha pulled out her credit card. She had picked out way too much to charge Cindy with it all-- fetish wear was expensive, and the stuff in the laundry wasn't worth as much as the new clothes would cost. "I'm sorry," said the saleslady. "This card's rejected." She frowned at Kalisha. She thinks it's a stolen card, thought Kalisha. Not unreasonable, given how much stuff I've piled up. "I can prove I'm me," said Kalisha, frantically fishing out her driver's license. The saleslady's expression softened. "Are you sure you didn't accidentally report the card stolen?" Kalisha nodded, sighing. It just wasn't her day. "I think I'd remember. There must be some kind of mistake." The saleslady shrugged. "Unless you have some other way of paying for this..." Kalisha nodded. "Here's my friend's card," she said, giving the lady Cindy's. "Quite a friend," said the saleslady, as she rang up the total. "Your slave?" Kalisha nodded. How very strange, she thought. *** Persephone was always late, so Kalisha resolved to be later. She wanted to make an entrance. She smiled to think of what Persephone would see when she saw her. In four inch heels, Kalisha was over six feet tall. A month ago, she could have barely walk in heels that tall; now she could dance if need be. Her face was heart shaped, with exotically shaped dark eyes that, like her long straight midnight-black hair, and tan skin, were her heritage from her Persian mother. She had lined her eyes with Kohl, and painted her lips dark red. Cindy had said that she looked like Cleopatra. She wore a corset of black vinyl, with red stitching, that shaped the top of her breasts into two perfect demi-globes that seemed to expand and rise with each breath. The matching skirt hugged her bottom tightly, and showed the tops of her stockings as well as an inch or two of suspenders holding them up. Each vertical line-- the stitching on the corset, down the sides of the skirt, the six black suspenders of her garter belt against tan skin, the seams of her silk stockings, and the spikes on her heels, added to the impression of a height. With her walked Cindy, her hair newly cropped short and dyed dark purple, with lips painted to match, dressed in a black latex minidress that would have revealed the lines of any underwear she wore beneath-- if Kalisha had let her wear any. Around her neck she wore a black latex collar with soft rubber spikes, and a dangling O-ring that could provide an attachment point for a leash. Cindy's face had lit up when Kalisha showed her the clothes, especially at the fact that she would be wearing a collar. They entered the Crypt linked arm and arm, and all eyes turned. The Crypt's raised dance floor was almost empty, but there were many small groups at the candle-lit tables. The music, to Kalisha's surprise, wasn't all that loud, but soft and dreamy, what Enya might sound like if she composed music in cemeteries. Kalisha scanned for Persephone, and spotted her. She was a tallish girl, though not quite as tall as Kalisha, willowy, in a dress of burgundy brocade. She was sitting with a girl named Elaine, who Kalisha had met once before, and a couple of guys who were strangers. Kalisha had the guys' full attention, and Persephone turned to see what they were staring at. Kalisha walked towards her, and Cindy followed. She could feel the heat of Persephone's gaze. Funny, thought Kalisha, I didn't know Persephone was bi. Then again, I hadn't realized I was, either. It wasn't until they were two steps away that the staring Persephone's jaw dropped. "Kalisha? Oh my god!" Kalisha grinned. "Took you long enough to recognize me." Persephone leaped up and hugged her. "Hmm. You look scrumptious." Kalisha didn't need a supernatural ability to sense lustful desires to figure out what Persephone was thinking - the hug seemed to have more wiggle in it than any other Kalisha had remembered getting from her friend. I have enough women in my life, thought Kalisha. "You are so sexy," gushed Persephone, as Kalisha ended the hug. "I can't believe it! Yum!" Kalisha laughed. "Down girl. Persephone, this is Cindy." "Just call me Sin," Cindy said as she offered Persephone a hand. "Is it appropriate?" asked Persephone, shaking the hand and grinning. "Ask Kali," replied Cindy, returning the grin. She sat down, and so did Persephone and Kalisha. A small man in black brought an extra candle to their table, putting it in front of Kalisha, so that her face was lit from below. Persephone raised an eyebrow, studying Kalisha for a moment. "I didn't know you swung that way," said Persephone. "There's a lot you don't know," said Kalisha. "You'll have to fill me in," said Persephone. "So, this is Elaine, me and her go way back. Elaine, meet Kalisha and Sin. This is Alex, Elaine's boyfriend. And this is Gareth, Alex's brother." Alex smiled, and nodded. Gareth put out his hand, and Kalisha and Cindy shook it in turn. Kalisha sat down. Cindy knelt next to her. "The music is awfully quiet tonight," Kalisha remarked. "We don't have to shout or anything." "It's a new thing, they play this stuff for fifteen minutes or so out of every hour, so people can talk, and then they blast it out for the rest," explained Persephone. "They just started last week, apparently, and I was out of town. So," she added, looking back and forth between Kalisha and Cindy, "You two are an item?" How to explain that one? Cindy jumped in before Kalisha could reply. "No, not really. Kali's a free agent." Great, now Persephone's going to be all over me, thought Kalisha, but she knew Cindy meant well. But Persephone just smiled, and Kalisha sensed that the original rush of desire had faded. "So, you were saying, stuff happened and all? What's going on?" "I don't think you'd believe me if I told you." Persephone laughed. "I don't believe you're standing in front of me wearing a corset, so..." "Well, after John and I broke up, I went out to get drunk, and I had a conversation with a woman in a bar. I decided I wanted my life to change." Kalisha decided to leave out the fact that the woman was a goddess. "Change how?" "For the sexier. I stopped into a strip club one day on my way home from work, and--" she paused. The two guys were strangers, and she didn't know Elaine that well, either. Elaine stood and pulled on Alex's hand. "Come on, let's dance. You two have catching up to do." Alex let himself be dragged to the dance floor, none too reluctantly. Kalisha smiled, watching them for a moment. It looked like the two were comfortable with each other, and that was nice. Gareth was just sitting there, listening with interest. Kalisha shrugged, the movement accidentally nearly lifting her breasts completely out of the corset, and then decided to plunge on. "Anyway, I ended up on stage, so I've been doing that lately. I met a new friend, Wendy, who dances there. And then some jerk at work tried to blackmail me about it." "You have changed! It's hard to imagine you stripping." "Well, I have to change my clothes somehow," quipped Kalisha. "I mean exotic dancing," said Persephone. "You're doing that? Really?" "I, ah, ah, ah-choo. Um, yes," said Kalisha. Gareth handed her a handkerchief, and she smiled at him in thanks. "I'll have to come see. Call me a doubting Thomas. Where's this strip club of yours?" Kalisha told her. "So how'd this blackmailing thing turn out?" "Pretty well, actually-- that's how I met Cindy. Er, Sin. I'd quit the accounting job, I think, but I feel kind of an obligation to keep an eye on the jerk in case he decides to try something with someone else." Persephone turned to Cindy. "I love your hair by the way-- but something gives me the feeling that Purple isn't the color for accountants these days." "Nope," said Cindy. "I'm not an accountant, at least not anymore. I'm the jerk's wife." "Present tense?" "Divorces take time," replied Cindy. "Oh," said Persephone. The music started to blast. "Care to dance?" asked Persephone, shouting. Kalisha blinked, and then realized Persephone was asking Cindy. Cindy looked over at Kalisha, eyebrows raised. Kalisha nodded, her nose wrinkling. She felt like sneezing again, tried to hold it back, and failed. "Ah-choo!" She watched them weave their way through the crowd to the dance floor, and then turned to look at Gareth, the only other person left at the table. He was tall -- how tall was hard to tell since he was sitting down. About twenty five, and probably Alex's older brother. His hair was a sandy brown, and he had a moustache and a neatly trimmed beard. His eyes were interesting, Kalisha thought, they hinted at a smile even when his mouth didn't. "Um, so," said Kalisha, her words swallowed by the Gothic-Industrial beat. Gareth smiled, and shrugged at her. Kalisha sneezed again. Gareth said something, but Kalisha couldn't make it out. She shrugged. He watched the effect with frank interest. He was hoping her tits would pop out, Kalisha realized. But he looked back to her eyes, and smiled. He took a felt-tip pen from his pocket. "You're beautiful." he wrote on a napkin, in rapidly bleeding ink. Kalisha smiled. If her eyes weren't starting to water, she'd have offered to dance. He was handsome-- and obviously the person Persephone was trying to set her up with. "I need to get some fresh air!" she shouted. She saw the image cross his mind, of her and him, in an alley, fucking, not bothering even to take their clothes off. What the hell, thought Kalisha. "Is there a back alley or something?" she shouted. He got up. He was tall, Kalisha realized, taller than her even in her four inch heels. He headed deeper into the club, and she followed, past the bathrooms, out a heavy industrial door. The door opened up into an alley, and the cool night air was invigorating after the swelter of the club. The fresh air was tainted by the smell of cigarette smoke and cloves, and something sweeter, but there was no one out smoking now. "For a moment there, I thought you were a mind reader," said Gareth. His voice, in the quiet, was low and rumbly. Kalisha grinned. Her nose was still itching, but it seemed to be somewhat better now. "I am," she told him. Gareth laughed. "So what am I thinking now?" "I think we'd both be embarrassed if I told you." Gareth chuckled. "Come on, a sexy woman like you, it doesn't take a mind reader to guess that my mind is on-- you know." "Satin Sheets," said Kalisha. "Slow, wet sex. Me on top." Gareth blinked. "Wow." "Your desires are so vivid," said Kalisha. Her breasts were tingling, and it wasn't the cold. She felt the blood rush to her pussy. "Think of something else." "I still don't believe you," said Gareth. "Think, anyway," insisted Kalisha. She leaned closer. "You know," she murmured a moment later, "I've never done that. I'm afraid it might hurt." "You need lubrication," said Gareth. "Hmmm," said Kalisha. "I've never done it before, either," admitted Gareth. "But that doesn't mean I can't think about it." "That's true." Kalisha paused, as Gareth's desires morphed again. "Actually," she told him, "I think white ropes would look better against my skin than black." She could tell that in his fantasy, she was willing, despite being tied up. He moved towards her, not quickly, giving her plenty of time to back away. She could feel his breath on her face, felt his anticipation of the feel of his lips on hers, even as she wondered whether his moustache would tickle. His hands were on her bare shoulders, pulling her closer. "You're something amazing," he said, in that low rumbly voice. Kalisha smiled. She wanted him inside her, here, in the alley. She slid her hands along his chest, feeling his muscles through his t-shirt, sliding them down his stomach-- and barely getting one up in time to cover her mouth and nose as the next sneeze came. "Fuck," she said. "You have a cold?" asked Gareth. "Maybe we should get you back inside." "No," Kalisha said, shaking her head. "It was worse inside." Gareth frowned. "Wonder what it could be?" Kalisha had a sudden thought. "Come with me," she said, and headed inside, past the bathrooms, to the table. A new set of people had sat down. One of them, a ruby haired girl with a waif look, was sneezing. "Excuse me," she shouted, and grabbed for one of the candles. She lifted it near her face-- and sneezed it out. The waif looked at her like she was from Mars. One of the guys with her studied the details of the suspenders that held her stockings up, and how the dark contrasted with the tan of her thighs, and his imagination followed the suspenders up and under her skirt. Kalisha leaned over. "Your boyfriend likes garter belts," she whispered in the waif's ears. Then she straightened, and moved a few feet away, still holding the candle. She had been right, it was the candle, brought by a short man she hardly saw, just a little bit different than all the other candles. And placed right in front of her. Did Wilcox hire someone to harass her, or something? Gareth took the candle from her hands, looked at it closely, and sneezed. "Sneezing powder," he whispered to Kalisha. "Or something like that." Kalisha scanned the room, looking for the little man. The dance floor was crowded now, and it was hard to see everyone there. Cindy seemed to be having a good time, though, pressing her body against Persephone, attracting some attention from the other denizens of the Crypt. Kalisha scanned the rest of the room, but her quarry didn't seem to be at any of the candle-lit tables, or at the bar where a few regulars were sipping neon drinks. Finally, she set the candle down at an empty table, taking Gareth's hand and leading him to the dance floor. She had half a mind to outdo the show Cindy and Persephone were putting on-- which would be difficult, as Persephone's hands were sliding along Cindy's latex covered derriere, and their lips were locked. Then she saw the little man, making his way through the dance floor in black. No one paid much attention to him. He held something in his hand, though. Kalisha let go of Gareth's hand and moved with a dancer's easy grace towards the dance floor, coving the distance in a few easy steps. He had dark hair, and glasses, Kalisha noted. Probably thirty or so. Just as the man got next to Cindy, he squeezed his hand. Kalisha kicked at it. A spray canister flew from his grip, clattering across the dance floor. A few people shrieked. Kalisha grabbed him. "Come on," she said, and grabbed the little man's wrist. People moved aside as she led him to the alley outside. A few wished they were the little man, being publicly humiliated by a vinyl clad dominatrix. Let them think that, thought Kalisha. "Okay, talk," she said. There were a couple of smokers outside, now, but they snuffed their cigarettes and went inside, not wanting to be part of the scene Kalisha was making. Gareth had followed her, and Persephone and Cindy, too. "Let me go," he whined. Instead, she shifted her grip to his collar. Gareth moved to stand behind him. He wasn't going anywhere. "It's the guy from the Laundromat," Cindy said. "And the fire alarm, I'd guess," added Kalisha. "What?" asked Persephone and Gareth. Kalisha gave them the short version, adding quick mention of the cancelled credit card and sneezing candle. The little man just stuck out his tongue. "Why are you playing tricks on me?" asked Kalisha. "Let me go." "Only if you tell me what I want to know." "You're a chosen," he told her. "'sides, you looked cute in the T-shirt. Do you know I could see your pussy?" "Thank you for sharing," Kalisha said. "How do you know I'm a chosen?" "What's a chosen?" asked Gareth. The little man laughed. "Ah, they don't know your secret." Kalisha scowled at him. "So I'll have to spoil it," said the little man. "Kalisha here has been chosen by the ancient goddess of fucking, the slut goddess, the celestial whore, to be her representative on Earth." "Aphrodite. Goddess of Love," Kalisha corrected. "You use your names, I'll use mine," said the little man. "Truth has many aspects, as I'm sure you know." "So are you a chosen, too?" asked Gareth. And Kalisha could see from the man's eyes that Gareth had hit on the truth. "Who?" she demanded. The little man shook his head. "You need to know about your boss. He's working for the God of Wealth, the almighty dollar incarnate. Also known as the god of the underworld, and we aren't talking Mafia." "Hades." The little man laughed. "I like Pluto, it makes him sound like a dog. The gods had just a little window of time to come down and choose people, and some of them chose rather poorly. Some of them chose well. Whatcha say, Kalisha-- you and I do the nasty, and both our patrons benefit." "I'd rather throw up," said Kalisha, pushing him away. The little man turned to run, and Gareth moved aside to let him go. "My," said Persephone, the first to break the silence. "Things really have been changing in your life." Kalisha nodded. Cindy knew already, but she wasn't sure how Persephone and Gareth were going to react. She was surprised to find that she cared more about Gareth. "We never found out who he was serving," said Gareth, and the way he said 'we' reassured Kalisha that he was on her side. Kalisha nodded. "Tricks, tricks. That's what he was doing, the whole time. A lot of ancient cultures had trickster gods. Like Loki. I think he'll find another target, for a while, anyway." "Um, Kalisha," said Cindy. All eyes turned to her. Cindy's latex dress was disintegrating. Cindy's body stretched out the rubber normally, but whatever Loki's agent had sprayed on the dress weakened the material to the point that it couldn't hold. Holes had formed in it, especially in the back, and as they watched little sections would snap with a sound like breaking rubber bands. "We took the Metro here," Kalisha said. "Anyone have a car we can get her to?" "I do," said Gareth. "Mind if I tag along?" asked Persephone. "Not at all," answered Cindy, before Kalisha could answer. By the time they got to the car, all that was left of Cindy's outfit was the collar and her high heels. Gareth loaned her his trench coat. "When we get to Kalisha's, will you flash me?" asked Persephone. Cindy laughed. *** They had talked, at first, Gareth and she, sitting on the couch in Kalisha's living room while Persephone and Cindy had gone off to the bedroom. Then they made love, tender and slow. Naked, Kalisha knocked on the bedroom door. "Come in," called Cindy. She paused, waiting to see if Persephone had a different notion of privacy than Cindy before she entered. The two were tangled up in Kalisha's red satin sheets. "Do you want us to move?" asked Persephone. Their bleary eyes told Kalisha that they had fallen asleep in each other's arms. "No, I just needed to get something." Persephone rolled back over and closed her eyes. Kalisha fished about in her dresser, found a tube of KY Jelly, and held it aloft in her hands. "Found it." "Mistress?" "Yes, Cindy?" "Have a good time." Kalisha smiled, and walked back to the living room. He was asleep. He looked tender, vulnerable that way. Kalisha didn't want him to be vulnerable. She wanted to be the vulnerable one, for a change. Slowly, she applied the lubricant, pushing her fingers deep inside her ass, stretching it to see what she might be able to take. She remembered Gareth's cock inside her. He was not a small man, and the thought scared her. Made her feel vulnerable. Made her feel good. She squirted some of the cold jelly onto the head of his cock, which made his eyes flutter open. He awoke to the sight of her spreading the goopy liquid on his rapidly hardening shaft. "Kali?" She smiled at him. "Why did Cindy ask permission to sleep with Persephone?" Kalisha thought. "She's a free woman. One of the things she's free to be is my slave, if she likes-- and only as long as she likes." "You have a very complicated life," remarked Gareth. "There's room for a boyfriend in it," said Kalisha softly. Saying that made her feel far more vulnerable then any physical activity. "I'm interested," said Gareth at last. "Took you a while to make up your mind," said Kalisha. "Took me a while to think of a way to say yes, I want you badly, and I want you in my life. What you're doing is kind of distracting." Kalisha had finished covering every inch of cock with lubricant, and was sliding a finger along his perineum, teasing his anus. "What, this? What we're going to next needs your full attention." She got on all fours on the floor, and he moved in behind her. He entered her ass slowly, letting her stretch to accommodate him. Kalisha reached back with one hand to rub her clit. He was going too slow, being too careful of her. "Harder." He thrust forward, and filled her. She groaned. Slowly he moved in and out. Her fingers moved more insistently, using her own slippery wetness to glide quickly around her pearl of pleasure. His hands were on her hips, steadying her. She heard footsteps in the hall, just as her pleasure swept over her. Her cunt squeezed on emptiness, her ass clenched its unaccustomed intruder tightly. He moaned, grunted, and she felt him erupt inside her. Kalisha ignored the footsteps, her body collapsing to the floor with Gareth on top of her. In a moment, Gareth pulled out. The footsteps receded. When she awoke that morning, there was a blanket on top of her, and a black satin sheet. Gareth woke after her, groggily denying all knowledge of the blanket. The smell of pancakes came from the kitchen. This morning, she would have them warm. She felt under the sheets. Gareth was hard again. She climbed on top of him, making a tent over her shoulders out of the dark satin. She knew, this time, that Cindy watched from the kitchen. She didn't have to look to know that Cindy enjoyed watching her make love. It seemed like the pancakes always ended up having to wait. ===== Kalisha Connors -- Erotica Writer www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Kalisha/www __________________________________ Do you Yahoo!? SBC Yahoo! DSL - Now only $29.95 per month! http://sbc.yahoo.com -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d, look for subject {ASSD}| |Archive at Hosted by | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+