By Vanity
+ + +
“Five hundred bucks ain’t bad,” Mike smiled as he tucked the money inside his pocket. “I’d say we have enough to pay Babbit and get some food for a change.” They had just finished an astonishing set in a complete hole in the wall club, the biker crowd finding an odd liking to their music.
Micky nodded, his steps sliding closer to Mike as people passed by. Davy just shook his head at the contact between those two. Micky always depended on Mike to take care of him whenever he had a change in emotion. And Mike, well, Mike was Mike. But Davy couldn’t blame him for picking such a pretty and willing victim as Micky. There was something about controlling coy prey that was enough fun to satisfy one a lifetime and it was something Davy understood.
“C-ca-can we go-go now,” Micky stuttered as a big and hairy leather clad man stalked by. He looked to Mike for approval and Mike got it.
“Let’s go, Pete,” he yelled over the crowd as Peter turned and gave a short wave. By the company Peter was keeping, two very hot beatnik women in fishnets and tight black costumes, he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Micky took a deep breath and settled on the steel stool, his head leaning against Mike’s arm for support. Davy adjusted himself on the opposite stool, hoping this wouldn’t take too long. He had a bird to cage tonight.
“Hey all you fuckers,” the DJ yelled into the microphone. The crowd growled obscenities and threw assorted objects. “Tonight, I have a special treat for you. You thought they had broken up; maybe had been buried by the Republican fascist of America? You thought maybe the rumor was true about the bass player setting the drummer on fire, crisping him to a sudden death during a show?” Micky’s head popped up on that one. “Well fuckers, you were wrong! They all just got drunk and fucked, forgetting any gigs they had to do! But tonight, I have them here for you, all sober and dolled up in their black and blood! Queers and dykes, I welcome…SUICIDE!!!!!”
The DJ slithered from the stage as the crowd jumped in a frenzy. Davy watched in amusement as the band crossed the stage, definitely decorated for Satan. The bass player appeared as if someone had cut him to death, the drummer faired better with greasy hair, while the guitar player looked like Mike, on acid. At least the Neanderthal looking thing with the chainsaw had some personality.
Davy looked over at Micky who appeared fearful of his surroundings while Mike appeared to be in daze. His eyebrow was raised in a seducing manner, one that Davy recognized and followed towards a new figure on stage. A woman!
Black outlined coffee browns scaled the audience with confidence and distaste for the men hounding around, a small smile hinting at the corners of bright red lips. The drastic alter of the leather corset gave her body sensuous curves, her breasts popping out with nipples sticking out like daggers. Davy found himself staring with lust, imagining what she would look like naked and tied up in his bed, calling out his name in sheer victory as he pounded into her over and over again.
“Damn,” he whispered as she began to sing, her voice so vehement with the jerks of music. He longed for her attention, uncrossing his legs to give his growing hard-on a breath each time she moved. For a moment, her gaze met Mike’s in a challenging stare and Davy fought to breathe as she caught his eye. He attempted to give her his most charming visage, only to be ignored, her look hitting Peter’s face.
Peter?! he thought wildly. Peter smiled and gave her an alluring grin that meant more than hello. Oh fuck!
+ + +
Afterwards, Davy felt it was time to meet this mysterious beauty. He wondered down narrow halls, past stoners and various bikers before finding that lovely form alone and in a very compromising position. He gaped as she bent to fix the garter of her thigh high fishnets, catching a shine of her golden skin as she moved her skirt up a little higher. She was oblivious to his approach, spinning around before he could prepare himself.
“Yeah?” She sounded annoyed and looked it when she noticed his smug grin towards her vinyl boots. “What the fuck do you want?” she asked again with impatience. He thought maybe this wouldn’t be such a good idea, but as he stared into her face, he knew the stirrings in his crotch couldn’t be ignored.
“I’m Davy. Perhaps we could go somewhere and discuss the true hidden meanings of your music, together. I’m sure you can do more than you tell.” He loved how his voice changed tones at the most appropriate times.
“Is that the best you can do,” she asked after a pause. “If I told you I have to wash my hair or travel to a foreign country, how would you feel?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “It depends on how dirty your hair is and where you have to go. I mean, if you really feel that it’s more important then say, getting your brains fucked out, then I suppose I would be crushed.” Smart-ass, she thought, crossing her arms.
“I bet you couldn’t get me to cough if I had something stuck in my throat. If approaching girls like that gets you laid then that is shaming. A little fleeb like you, rolling around with a girl like me? You probably have a mirror above your bed to make sure your hair isn’t out of place. And afterwards, what? Do I get to watch you flex at your own vanity until you pass out? Or maybe watch in awe at the amazing way you comb your hair. Or, I know, feel so disgusted and used because the size of your ego overlapped the size of your penis?”
“That’s cute,” Davy mocked. “Do you treat all men like this or are you waiting for midnight when you *might* turn back into a human?”
“Fuck you. I believe the answer tonight is no, you little glob of mucus,” she spat, grabbing her bag and pushing past him, leaving his thoughts giddy. If she wanted to play that game, fine. But he felt sooner or later, this was one match he was going to win.
+ + +
Baisez sat in her bedroom writing whatever came to mind as she stared at the lush tied to her bed. The odd thoughts of that fleeb interrupted once again, the curiosity that plagued her during the performance coming to mind. For some reason, she couldn’t help repeating his voice, like a skipping beat, until a flow excitement hit her. There was just something about him...
“Damn fucker,” she whispered as she scribbled a few words
*His name was Davy
And I thought maybe
For a brief second behind screen
That in all his faults
I could lock him in a vault
And perhaps if I let him, he’ll make me scream*
Baisez smiled as she underlined *Davy* in red.
+ + +
After the first night Davy questioned Peter and learned her name was Baisez and that she was an exotic mixture of Black and German. He also learned that she loved to tamper with men and that she had her share of territory scattered about. It only fascinated him more when she kept their game up, her appearance voluptuous and attitude cold. So teasing as she took a partner, grinding against them as she looked to him with a coy stare and wink. At times she would leave little notes of strange and dirty sayings and he would return the favor with his own twists. One night she left a special note reading: *I have to talk to you,* and he examined it to where the letters had worn through.
Upstairs, Micky’s faint whimpers and other countless noises could be heard. Micky had messed up one too many times in practice today and tonight, Mike wasn’t going to be so generous. Davy knew by the deep groans and soft cries that echoed through the ceiling, Mike was getting more than he wanted. He tired not to concentrate on them but his erection became rigid as he imagined Baisez caressing him the way he knew Mike was fondling Micky. Those slow and calculated touches that sparked images of naked bodies and warm hands in his mind, made him ache to release himself. Lightly, Davy’s fingertips grazed his nipple, bringing it to diamond hardness at the feelings of a velvet mouth teasing sacred areas. Micky’s moans grew louder and Davy shut his eyes, the building sensations succumbing to a rush that died as soon as Peter stirred. Above, the moans continued.
Mike was such a bastard.
+ + +
It was quiet as the smoke from Baisez’s cigarette surrounded the darkened cafe. So tempting in her black garb and vinyl boots, Davy swore she walked in to the tune, “These Boots Were Made for Walking.”
“How old are you?” he asked resting his chin in palm as his eyes skimmed the youth of her face. Such a beautiful creature and she probably knew it.
“How old are you?” she teased, her lips closing around the tip of her cigarette. For every question he realized came another question.
“How old do you think?” he sighed, leaning back to wait for judgment.
“Twelve.”
“Twelve?!”
“Yeah. Of course, when you stand up, I swear you look seven.” The twinkle in her eye gave away the humor and he had to smile.
“I use to be a jockey, you know?” he bragged, giving her a fixed gaze. She raised a questionable eyebrow at that.
“I use to be into gymnastics,” she grinned, her foot beginning a trail against his ankle.
“Why?” he managed to ask without flinching, although it was pretty tempting to move.
“Why were you a jockey?” The smirk on her face matched his own as a certain pressure inside his thigh sent goose bumps through his system.
“Because I got a thing for riding,” he breathed, his fingers reaching down to press the boot more into him. “Why were you into gymnastics?”
“Honestly?” she asked, wrestling her foot from his grasp and sliding it back down. “I have this thing for wrapping and throwing my legs into odd positions.” Her foot hooked around his leg, jerking him forward as he tried not to show his shock at her serious gaze. He knew it was time as she grabbed her coat and there was no hesitation as he followed, grabbing her into a fit of zealous kisses and bites. She fought back, their bodies slamming into corners before she pushed him away, gliding outside. But he wouldn’t let her go far as he embraced her, their bodies leaning form one car to another.
“Mine,” she breathed, yanking him towards her car.
“Mine,” he growled, jerking her towards his. Her minor attacks excited him as he forced her into his car, the drive full of playful tugs of clothing and hair. At a red light, she slid onto his lap, her thighs locking him down as she yanked his head back to bite his neck. His fingernails dragged across her fabrics in need to shred them from her body, to leave her naked and panting for him. But once the light changed he pushed her away, only to have her reach to attack him again.
“My place,” he gasped as her hand pressed against his hard on.
“No,” she squeezed, his hand clamping to hers. “Mine!” When he hesitated, she jerked the steering wheel, nearly killing them both. He shot her a look of warning but she only glared at him as her fingers began to unbutton her top.
+ + +
Davy didn’t know why he ignored his instincts to drag her to his place, but her little peep show was very convincing. She came to him, her attraction instant as her tongue invaded his mouth. His lips felt so good against the sensitive parts of her neck and she fought to stay steady as he clawed at her skin. Secretly, she reached for the knife tucked in her boot, the tip cold as it traveled up her leg. Soon, that smooth neck was in view as the knife met his eyes, the blade casting a gleam across his face. There was fear as he felt the sharp edge tickle under he shirt to circle his nipples and belly button, but he held tight, massaging the curves of her hips as she figure-eighted it across his chest. The feeling was enough to cause little bursts of excitement within him.
But there was a change in her eyes as the knife hissed through the cloth of his shirt, exposing little parts of his tan, chiseled flesh. His hands patterned her movements, working to undo the buttons of her shirt. Her breastbone curved at his patient touch, her maneuvers weakening as he molded her breasts. He was beginning to make her feel as she had him and it pleased him to watch her lose a bit of control. But now he wanted her naked and in one fluid movement he ripped the shirt from her body, the sudden force causing her breasts to bounce in her black lace bra. His fingers burned into her skin as he clutched her, the knife drawing blood as it scratched his back.
He pushed from her, peeling his shirt away as he observed what she had done. His movements were frantic and they amused her as she stepped to him, her fingertip cold as it traced over the fresh cut. She wanted to taste him and he watched, hypnotized, as she drew the dampened digit to her lips, her eyes rolling back as she savored his flavor in her mouth. A bit settled on her bottom lip and curiosity made the tip of his tongue reach to lick it, a coppery tang filling his mouth. When he opened his eyes, he noticed her predatory grin, knowing she was going to be a brutal lover, one he was going to tame tonight.
+ + +
She was stronger than he imagined as they wrestled around on the floor, ripping the clothes from each other’s bodies with such enthusiasm and passion. He loved her excited squeals when he took control, taking a moment to feel the smoothness of her unclothed perfect breasts and stomach. Her fingernails dug into his back as her nipples puckered to the biting of licking of his lips and teeth. She writhed against him, wanting more, her senses going mad when he brushed against her sex. In that instant, she pushed him back, grabbing the knife and forcing him to turn over. Her eyes admired the flexes of his back muscles, the contrasts of the dark strands of his hair against his tan skin. It looked so soft and comforting and she wanted nothing more than to feel his nakedness against her.
The gentle feel of her bare breasts weighed on him as she stretched on top of him. He enjoyed the feel of skin on skin as she inched down his body to remove his underwear. His curves were so round and high she had to bend and kiss the peachy colored cheeks. In the back of her mind she wondered how tarnished that perfection would look against a thick, leather whip beating fast and strong. Perhaps he would be even more beautiful all bruised and red. She yanked him up and shoved him onto her bed, her motions quick as they tied his wrists to the bedposts.
“Relax,” she purred, pushing his legs back towards his stomach and stretching the stockings from the bedposts to fit his ankles, nice and tight. Such a flawless view of everything, including the taut flesh of his virgin target; it was so lovely. She outlined the hole with her finger before sliding the tip in, causing him to hiss at the intrusion of her finger fucking. Something about his face, the uneasiness and the darkness that came with the shuffled halo of his hair made her want to destroy him, make him hers. She grabbed a box of objects from under her bed, finding what she wanted and wasting no time in strapping it along her waist.
He watched as the leather rod dangled between her legs, the mushroom top and thick, textured length glistening as she oiled it. Her kisses were sweet as they nibbled at his neck and nipples, goose bumps forming as her tongue dragged down body, to his penis, where the heat of her mouth engulfed him. The bindings tightened as she pulled away before the release, making him numb before she returned to ravish him again. His whimpers thrilled her, knowing she had him where she wanted.
“I’m going to fuck you,“ she gasped, her breath warming his mouth as he bit to pull her orifice to his in a violent kiss. The familiar flavor of blood traveled between them as she pressed forward, the rod filing him inch by inch, making him groan with discomfort. But his sighs soon turned into moans with each thrust as she discovered his secret spot, ramming against it in such pleasure and pain that he arched to meet her halfway. The swelling of his cock against her stomach told her he was ready, but she pulled out before the release, a sob escaping him.
“You’re such a slut,” she spat as he grinned, licking his lips.
“Untie me and I’ll show you how much of a slut I am.”
As she stared at him, temptation hit, her fingers plucking at his bindings before using the knife the cut away the ones at his legs. They fell with little life and she began to massage and lick at them, making him giggle as her tongue ran from the inside of this thigh to the tips of his toes. The moistness darted in between the digits in fast movements, making him squirm until she settled on him again, her nipples rubbing against his with a new friction. Locking his legs to her, she penetrated him, avoiding his mouth and dirty words. The only control he held was to raise his hips, driving the rod deeper inside him, the force making her scratch at his legs as the thin straps within the strap on pinched at her clit.
It was enough to make her want to come, but she desired more, pulling out to cut away the last bits from his body. It wasn’t long before he regained his breath, seizing her body and tormenting it with sharp spanks that left her on the verge of tears. When he got too frisky, she would bite back hard, attempting to out punish him but never succeeding. He dragged her back to the bed, rolling her onto her stomach as the stockings tied tightly to her wrists. Ripping the panties from her body, he reached for the broad riding crop, his smile triumphant as he slapped the object in his palm.
He admired the perfect curves of her young, firm ass, bending to kiss them as she had done his. Her moans were like little hums to his ears as he tongued around her hole and she wondered if he knew she never had it that way before. But the gentleness of his mouth was soon replaced with constant slaps, her ass twitching in pain to a driving rhythm. The strange feeling was that it pleased her more than she wanted to admit, the pain soon melting into pleasure as her ass lifted to meet his strikes. Ah, the beauty marks he left on her were so enticing he had to taste them. His tongue was magic against her raw flesh and she sighed when he stopped, his fingers parting the cheeks to view her small, pink opening. It beckoned to be touched, to be fucked and he began to press a finger forward.
“Oh,” she breathed as he probed her with another finger, circling with careful movements. It felt so good she wanted to take more of him in, but he stopped, settling in front of her to give a show with the bottle of oil. She licked her lips in anticipation as he took his precious time greasing his pulsating dick, making her want to scream inside. But when he spooned around her, she knew the inevitable was coming as his penis rubbed between her quivering cheeks. His hands worked around her stomach down to her sex, her clit responding to he experienced touches as he adjusted his angle. Then she felt him, bit by bit, filling her until he couldn’t go any further. As he rocked against her, she arched to meet him, his hands pulling at her hair and smacking her ass until an intense orgasm began to erupt inside her. But he wouldn’t let her go as he pulled out, untying her arms and flipping her body to cover it with his.
Her wetness slid him in as he pinned her hands above her head to fuck her harder. She could feel him bringing her to the brink over and over again, but never letting her come as he jerked away from her. Then he would penetrate again, going so deep his balls would slap against her ass, her legs curling around his waist to lock him in place. She struggled for top when he let her go, her hips surging onto his body, making him gasp beneath her. The bed creaked and the headboard smacked the wall at their growing urgencies, Baisez feeling she could no longer hold on as Davy gripped her hips, ripping into her one last time. They meet in one furious gush, her inner walls sucking him in as she circled her hips along his. Neither said a word as they collapsed onto each other, the big sleep covering Davy like a warm blanket. But Baisez stayed awake, her thoughts stumbling.
+ + +
What am I doing, Baisez thought as she rounded up the bowl of strawberries and whip cream. Her body was sore from head to toe but that wasn’t what bothered her. It was a surprise that he could wait out that long, matching her in ways she couldn’t imagine. As she climbed the stairs, she wondered if he was still asleep, as dead to the world as she left him, with all his bruises.
The room was quiet as she crept in to see his beautiful form in front of the window, bathed in moonlight. He looked deep in thought about something, and she set the food aside to go to him, his expression calm as her fingertips traced his body. She so was so lovely in her black silk robe and he was beginning to think he liked her more than he should. The bed felt so empty without her.
“Baisez,” he whispered as he reached to stroke her cheek, her body tingling at the first sound of her name from his lips. She moved away, back to the food, embarrassed by her sudden flush and his constant stare.
“You hungry?” she asked, sitting on the floor with the bowl between her legs. He joined her, biting into the first thing that crossed his mouth. Whip cream smeared his lips as he licked at his fingers and she had never seen anything so cute or sexy.
“Your lip,” she said, pointing to her own for emphasis.
“What about it?” he asked, biting into another strawberry. Action did speak louder than words and she wanted to taste him again. Leaning over she licked the traces from his lips, his hands tangling in her hair as he deepened the kiss. When it was over she pulled away wanting to say something but instead shoving another strawberry into her mouth, ignoring his constant stares.
“Here,” he said, offering a strawberry covered in whip cream. She opened her mouth to accept, her lips sucking on his digits as he ran them over her mouth. His fingers fanned against her cheek as she scooted closer to him, his warm mouth tasting even sweeter than the strawberries, his skin like crushed velvet along her skin. There was no fighting as they drew to each other, he inching her out of her robe, licking the bruises he found on her.
“Can we,” she gasped as he touched the wetness between her legs. “Can we do it right this time?” Her eyes were determined and he understood, lifting her gracefully onto the bed. They touched each other in new ways, Baisez allowing him to take care of her, the phantom shudders of her body hitting him as he pushed slow and deep. It was patient and new between them, the strange emotions Davy was feeling not wanting to fight her, but to keep her with him.
+ + +
The ride back was quiet as they watched the morning business carry on outside the windows. The walk in the parking lot was filled with heavy silences and nervous gestures. When they found her car, she smiled at him, her hands digging into her pockets as she tried to figure out what to say. He only stared.
“Um, the band and I are going to be leaving tonight to do a show in Seattle. After that, the schedule is all mixed up and well, I don’t-”
“It’s okay,” he assured her with a smile. “I’m not asking for anything.”
“Oh.”
“And I’m sure you’re not either.”
“No.” As she looked at his bruises, she was sorry for what she had done. On impulse, she grabbed and kissed him with every drop of emotion she had left, his arms wrapping around her in a death grip. “I have to go,” she whispered, savoring his taste one last time. As she pulled away, she ripped a piece of his jacket, tucking it into her jacket. He did the same to hers, his smile weak as he watched her pull off. Driving back alone was a pain but he managed, expecting peace when he crept in, but catching Peter in the middle room doing yoga.
“Hey David,” Peter smiled, stretching his legs.
“Peter.”
“Long night?”
“You could say that.”
“Beast?” Even from a distance Peter could eye him.
“Something like that.”
“Baisez?” Peter noticed the sudden change in emotions and smiled. “It’s okay David. I won’t tell. But I must say, she must have really liked you to let you live.”
“Um, yeah. Look, I’m really tired. I’ll see you later, okay?” Peter watched as Davy tripped into the room, closing the door. Once secure, Davy collapsed on his bed and back into a deep sleep.
+ + +
After three days this shower was necessary, although he didn’t mean to stay in so long. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he looked into the steamed mirror, admiring every bruise and cut with a smile. Peter eyed him as he came into the room, noticing the slight change in his attitude.
“Something came for you in the mail, David.”
“Huh?”
“You-mail,” Peter emphasized, pointing to the large envelope on the bed with Davy’s name written all over it in big red letters. “Anyway, I thought I would wait for you and tell you since you’ve been in this zone for the past few days. It looked pretty important.”
“Thanks,” Davy responded, caressing the envelope as if it would break. Peter laughed as he grabbed his coat.
“Well, I’m off to see Nichelle, the Goddess of Love so, if you need anything, drugs, bandages, good liquor, don’t bother Micky and Mike.” And with that, Peter disappeared, leaving Davy to open the envelope and read:
*What is like chocolate that melts in your mouth,
but tastes better?*
Reaching into the envelope, he felt a soft fabric and pulled it out, noticing the same black satin panties she wore that night they were together. She sent me panties, he thought, a smile crossing his face. The slut. Upstairs, Micky could be heard moaning in his pitiful manner. Davy rolled his eyes remembering all too well the last time he had heard such things. Sure, that sort of thing may work for Mike, all taking and no giving, but Davy knew better. Being in control wasn’t the point anymore when things could be so good, when partners were equal.
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