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Message-ID: <43007asstr$1056053405@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Kalisha Connors <kalishaconnors@yahoo.com>
MIME-Version: 1.0
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: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

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

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-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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