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She hails from suburbia, taking her weekly jaunt to dingy downtown London’s dripping wet underbelly. Her uniform, black leather boots that rise up over short legs dipped in fishnet pantyhose, a wiry black corset that makes her breasts look bigger (she’s only sixteen and is at the stage of her life when flaunting the larger-than-average C-sized mounds of flesh brings her a sense of self-worth) and a pair of long striped socks with finger holes cut out of them pulled tight up her arms. Tucked into her bra, wrapped in plastic, two ecstasy tabs.

At first the bouncers, two large shadows sneering out of flowing trenchcoats, don’t let her in, but after she gives them both handjobs inside their coats they are no longer concerned with her lack of proper identification. She twists her black lips in a seductive smile and slips by, letting her hand glide over their crotches on her way in.

The lights are dim, no surprise, and a green strobe light caresses the made-up faces that dance in the dark. She scans the club as black shadows fill up and take human shape whenever the light stops on them, then, as it moves on, their bodies fizzle out, leaving their outline light-stained on her retinas. She slinks, all hip and ass, across the dancefloor, her fingers fondling any bit of exposed flesh. The music is slow and kinky, obscure, hopeless lyrics bringing sweaty bodies together.

She sits in a corner and ingests the ecstasy, her tongue wrapping around her fingers and pulling them into her mouth. It’s quite the show; someone is watching –someone is always watching. Once that warm, hyper-static feeling sets in she finds herself on the dance floor. She feels sharp black nails scratch her naval as it moves down her body, wriggling down into her pants.

She closes her eyes and laughs.

When she opens them she is on her back in a dark room, a thin wiry body rubbing against her own. She thinks she sees God floating above her – she feels just perfect. She digs her nails into his back, hard, drawing blood. He doesn’t flinch, though, and lets her carve herself into him. After he is done he lays on his stomach, exposing his wounds to her.

She’s seen this in a movie once and is eager to prove herself. She gets on all fours and squeezes his skin, lapping up the crimson droplets. His blood tastes like copper. After the scratches have clotted they kiss, deep and wet, then she puts on her clothes and hails a cab. She takes it to her friend Mary’s house to wash off her make-up and put on her pyjamas.

Mary’s mother is an alcoholic and has already passed out on the couch in front of Oprah.

After changing out of her sweaty clothes she tells Mary all about it. Mary is envious, wishes she could have been there, but tonight she had to stay home and watch her mother. Her mother sometimes takes pills.

They giggle, then go to sleep.


------
"Imperious, choleric, irascible, extreme in everything, with a dissolute imagination the like of which has never been seen... there you have me in a nutshell, and kill me again or take me as I am, for I shall not change."

From his Last Will & Testament, Marquis de Sade


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Comments

The following comments are for "Charlotte"
by strangedaze

Bringing me to the club
Very descriptive and lively prose. You brought me to the place and I tasted the coppery blood. Good job. I hate these types of pieces being an old guy (almost 40) it makes me fear for the youth of the world and worry about the leaders of tomorrow.

But, but, but...that doesn't mean it's not real.

Good one.

Jeff

( Posted by: Jeff [Member] On: January 25, 2005 )

Pen, Jess, Baron...
...

Pen - Thank you for your kind words. Was the idyllic piece of flash by Teflon, by any chance? I've said it once, and I'll say it again - grit happens to be my lifeblood. Thanks again!

Jeff - Well, I'm glad you found something redeeming in it, aesthetically speaking. The battle cry of every generation seems to be that we are all going to Hell in a handbag. Maybe we are, maybe we aren't, but I think that there is that corruption festering under the surface layer of every society. Thanks for reading, and let's hope the leaders of tomorrow make wiser choices that the gal with the goth get-up.

Baron - Thanks for stopping by, and for the rating!

-SD

( Posted by: strangedaze [Member] On: January 26, 2005 )

Charlotte
Echoing what everyone before me said: very good descriptions here, sd. I like it when I can see a story perfectly in my head. Little squirmy, too.

The only thing I would suggest is that you break up the second sentence of the first paragraph. The descriptions are spot-on, but it just seems like there's too much crammed into that one sentence. It may be the parentheses, too, although I like that line.

( Posted by: Elphaba [Member] On: January 26, 2005 )





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