Chemical Pink

by Katie Arnoldi

  Aurora found the only outfit she hadn’t worn yet, her green-and-purple-striped shorts and matching top. She put on the shorts and pulled the center seam high up into her butt crack so that each cheek was nicely delineated. She put on her top, shoes, and socks, and dropped to the ground for a quick set of a hundred push-ups. It was 7:35. Charles was waiting and she wanted to have a nice little pump when the elevator doors opened. She pulled and twisted her nipples hard so they stuck way out, shut off the light in her hotel room, and headed downstairs.

  Venice

  Charles sat holding his mint tea and watched Aurora eat the mound of scrambled egg whites with bits of chicken breast and mushrooms. She’d already had a bowl of oatmeal with banana and a cup of coffee with two Equals. She sat hunched over the little table, right hand clutching her fork, left arm cradling her plate. Her hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, her green-and-purple-striped bra-top still damp from sweat. Charles sat quietly, not wanting to interrupt.

  “They make the best egg whites here.” She took a sip of coffee and smiled at Charles. “You sure you’re not hungry?”

  “No, I’m fine.” Charles straightened in his chair and noticed that the waistband of her matching shorts was also damp with sweat. “You had a wonderful workout.”

  “Yeah,” she said, chewing and swallowing. “I liked having you there. Watching me.”

  The Abdels, Hernando and Eve, walked past the table dressed in their matching uniforms of black-and-red plaid tights with black mesh tank tops and black patent leather Doc Martens with red shoelaces. They each had a barbwire ring tattooed around their left arms and black hair, his short, hers long and braided down the middle of her back. Eve, as usual, trailed Hernando by a few steps. Hernando gave Aurora a thorough look as he passed and Charles was pleased to note her lack of response.

  “Who are they?” Aurora whispered.

  “She was a secretary. Hernando found her and turned her into a bodybuilder. She won a couple of shows and he married her. He doesn’t allow her to talk in public.” Charles leaned in closer to Aurora and giggled. “She won the Orange County Muscle Classic in April and he didn’t even place in the top five. He wouldn’t let her out of the house for a week and when she did finally show up at the gym she had two black eyes.”

  Aurora mashed the last bits of egg white and mushroom onto her fork and finished her coffee. “Does she have any other titles?”

  Charles paid and guided Aurora out of the restaurant. “Shall we walk on the beach?”

  Aurora nodded enthusiastically. “Soft sand is so good for the calves.”

  Charles took Aurora’s large hand in his as they waited for the light. A car, full of young Hispanics, their hair shaved, the sleeves of their white T-shirts rolled up, slowed and honked at Aurora. She raised her right arm in a bicep pose and smiled while still holding on to Charles’ hand with her left. The boys waved and hollered, shifted the car into neutral for a moment and revved the engine, then drove on. Charles liked her spunky display.

  Charles and Aurora walked the three blocks to the beach. The sun was hot and the traffic heavy with people searching for parking spots. The boardwalk was crowded with signs advertising body piercing, tattoos, hair weaving and scalp treatments. A woman with a massage table offered acupuncture for fifty cents a needle. A young, bald, legless man in a rusty wheelchair held out an empty paper cup and asked passersby for money. There was a dwarf, in tiny shorts and a tank top, sitting on a bench arguing with a tall thin man in a ragged, dirty black suit who had open sores around his mouth. The dwarf lunged for the thin man, strangling him. The man stood and grabbed the dwarf under the arms, pulled him away and threw him. The dwarf landed on his back on the concrete but quickly scrambled to his feet, arms raised in a fighting stance. Charles steered Aurora away from this scene and out onto the beach.

  “Tell me about your daughter,” he said when they’d reached the firm brown sand near the water. A comfortable breeze blew and cooled Charles after the hot crossing. He was not about to walk in that exhausting soft sand.

  Aurora pulled her shorts down a bit, exposing more of her stomach to the sun. “She’s twelve. Great kid.”

  “Who’s she staying with?” Charles admired her sharp chin line.

  “My mom. They’re close.” Aurora stopped and took off her shoes.

  Charles stood and looked out over the water. A lifeguard boat sped past. “Do you two live with your mother?” he said, trying to sound casual. It worried him. The mother could be a complication.

  “Unfortunately. I just can’t afford a place. We can’t wait to move out.” She stood up and resumed their walk, shoes and socks in hand. “I got pregnant in high school. The father was out of there before she was born. He’s probably in jail. I hope he’s dead. Jerk.”

  Charles smiled, relieved. “Were you a bodybuilder before you had Amy?”

  Aurora shook her head. “I was a little skinny thing. I got pregnant and gained over seventy-five pounds. Luckily I got this great skin. Not one single stretch mark.” She pulled her shorts down a little more and showed Charles the smooth top of her left butt cheek.

  “That’s lucky,” Charles said. He touched her spine briefly with his index finger.

  “Started going to a gym and met this guy, Skip DeBilda. Vietnam vet, missing his two front teeth. He lived in his car at the YMCA and started training me for free. I’d get up at five every morning and go meet Skip. Had to bang on the top of his little Honda to wake him up and some mornings, if he was deep asleep, he’d sit up holding a big combat knife. First time I just about died of fright.” Aurora spoke quickly and Charles noticed that she’d flushed a nice pink.

  “He’d train me for an hour and a half. Hard. Made me cry on forced reps. I’d usually throw up on leg day.” Aurora looked at Charles. “It was fantastic. Then I’d go to work. I was so sore, sometimes, I couldn’t even lift my daughter. It was so great watching my body change.”

  “Do you still train with Skip?” Charles said, mildly curious. He felt hot in the sun and wanted to take Aurora inside.

  “He got strange. One day he’d say his mama was coming to help him get an apartment and all. He’d be all excited for me to meet her. A couple of days later I asked about her and he said she’d been dead fifteen years. Stuff like that. Plus, you know, I was shaping up real good.” Aurora wrinkled her nose. “He started getting interested in me. I switched to a better gym.”

  They walked on quietly and passed a group of children making castles, large mounds of sand studded with bits of Styrofoam, paper, and glass. One of the younger children came parading up holding a dead seagull by the wing. His mother shrieked, ran up to him and hit it out of his hand.

  “I’d love for Amy to live here,” Aurora said. “It’s so exciting. Beautiful.” She stopped and looked at Charles. “I wish I didn’t have to go back.”

  Charles smiled, enjoying her need. “I think I’m burning,” he said. “We’d better head back.”

  Aurora stepped on a delicate white clamshell, smashing it to pieces, and turned to follow.

  J Do

  It was Saturday morning. Mrs. Johns wasn’t working and Charles had organized the living room. He’d spent eighty dollars on Casablanca lilies and tuberoses. He placed a large vase on the table, and the room was thick with their smell. The heavy velvet drapes were drawn, and the dim Tiffany lamps cast a soothing light. Aurora would sit in the gold velvet chair with the thick down cushions. He wanted her to be comfortable. He’d sent a driver to pick her up.

  The bell rang and Charles hurried to the door. She wore a floral, cotton/Lycra, tank mini-dress that accentuated the width of her glorious shoulders and her narrow, tight hips. The black, strappy, high-heeled sandals were nice, something he might have chosen.

  He smiled. “Please come in.”

  “This is the kind of house that the governor lives in.” Aurora stood in the entry hall and turned slowly. “It’s like out of a magazine.”

  Charles let her look. “Can I offer
you anything?” He felt the excitement rising from his loins. “Food? Something to drink?”

  “Crystal Light?” she said, looking at him for the first time. “Fruit punch, if you have it.”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t have that. Pellegrino?”

  “No. I’m fine.” She resumed her inspection. “I can’t believe you live here.”

  “Let’s go into the living room.” He took her tanned, shapely arm and walked down the short hallway to the double sliding oak doors. Charles put both hands on the brass handles, gave a light push, and the doors slid open.

  “What is that smell?” Aurora put her hand to her nose.

  Charles turned to her, troubled. “Tuberoses and lilies. Don’t you like their fragrance?”

  “It’s real nice.” She smiled. “It was just a little strong when you opened the door.”

  They entered the room. Aurora quietly continued her inventory. She reached for the mahogany box on the coffee table and as she bent over her dress rode up on her legs, almost exposing her buttocks. The box was the size of a thick phone book, plain and highly polished. “What’s in here?”

  “Have a look.” Charles grinned and watched her closely.

  “Eww.” She reacted as if something dead or rotten were hidden in the box. Charles walked over and stood next to her.

  “They’re glass eyes,” he said. “That cloudy one is almost a hundred years old. Very rare.”

  She closed the box and returned it to the table.

  Charles took her by the hand. “I’d like you to listen to a tape I’ve made. It’s for you.”

  “Sure. Is it singing or something?”

  “No. You’ll see. Come. Sit in this chair,” he said, leading her. “The only thing I ask is that you do not speak or in any way interrupt my tape. When it’s over we’ll talk. Okay?”

  “All right.”

  He fluffed the cushion and helped her settle in, then reached behind the chair and brought out the equipment. He fitted her with professional headphones that completely covered her ears, pushed the Play button on the small tape player, and rushed back to the couch, taking an envelope from under the cushion. He sat down.

  The blank, confused look on Aurora’s face changed to a smile. She looked at her hands, enjoying his message. This was the beginning, where he told her how much her company had meant to him, what a wonderful woman, what a smart woman and what a phenomenal beauty she was. He waited. Her eyes shot up to his face.

  This was the part where he told her that the envelope he held in his hand had a check for $10,000 made out to her. It was hers no matter how she responded to the rest of his message. It was a gift to help her on her way. She started to speak, shocked. Charles held his finger up to his lips and smiled. She sat on her hands, squirming and grinning. Next came the proposal.

  She looked at the floor now, concentrating. Focusing on his details. He would provide her with a house, a car of her choosing and a generous monthly allowance that would more than cover her and Amy’s needs. He would plan her training program and diet, supply her with all the necessary supplements and decide on her contest schedule. He would make her a champion and she would tend to him. Keep him happy on a daily basis. If, at any time, either one of them was not satisfied, the arrangement would be terminated and Charles would give Aurora another check for $10,000 as severance.

  The tape machine snapped off. Aurora wrenched the headphones off, tangling them briefly in her wild hair, and dropped them to the seat beside her. She chewed her bottom lip furiously, staring at Charles, then stood.

  “You are …” She walked toward him. “You are an angel of God. You are my Savior.” She stopped close to the couch and squealed. “I can’t believe it, I can’t believe it, I can’t believe it.” She jumped up and down shaking the floor in her high-heeled sandals.

  Charles laughed and came to her. “So, do you want to do it?”

  “Oh, Charles,” she said, taking his hands. “I do. I do, I do, I do.” She came closer and kissed him. Charles allowed it, accepting her tongue into his mouth.

  Closer

  “You go ahead and shower.” Charles sat on the still-unmade bed in Aurora’s hotel room.

  “It won’t take long.” She walked into the small bathroom and pulled off her dress without closing the door. Charles saw her breasts in the medicine cabinet mirror. She bent and pulled down her underwear. He was delighted by the tiny tan line outlining the G-string she usually wore. Aurora turned. Her pubic hair was shaved into a fetching thin stripe. Very sporty and neat. “I’ll be right out.” She closed the door.

  Charles took off his shoes and socks and placed them under the bed. He heard the shower and felt himself stir with excitement. Aurora was soaping herself. He took off his glasses and cleaned them with the corner of the sheet, then put his face to the pillows and sniffed Aurora’s smell. The shower shut off. He sat up, alert.

  Aurora opened the door and stood, naked, her wet blond hair combed back from her face, slick and sexy. She walked over to Charles and stood in front of him without saying a word. He sat and looked at her for a moment, smelling the soap. He rose from the bed and put his right hand between her legs, wetting his middle finger in her, then sliding it along her slit and resting his fingertip on her pulse, pushing gently as if it was some Rewind button in his mind. She closed her eyes and let him. He stayed still, his finger gently pushing. Aurora opened her eyes and reached for him.

  “You’ll excuse me for a moment while I use the rest room?” Charles dropped his hand and dodged around her to the bathroom. He closed the door behind him and checked his watch. It was 11:02. He’d make her wait four minutes. He pulled off his T-shirt, took the flimsy damp washcloth from the side of the tub, wet it at the sink and rubbed it on the tiny bar of pink soap, then scrubbed his armpits vigorously. His body was pale, each rib visible along the front of his chest. He had burned slightly on the arms below the T-shirt line and at the neck. Pink but not painful. He took off his pants and white cotton briefs, scrubbed his penis, scrotum and rectum with the cloth, then rinsed it and scrubbed again, removing the soap. The kitty bath excited him further and his long thin penis stood out from his body, arching dramatically to the left like a comma. His pubic hair was sparse and slightly red, his pelvic bones visible and sharp; white legs bony, smooth and nearly hairless. 11:05. He opened the door.

  Aurora was in the bed, covers pulled up to her neck. Charles stood in the doorway, eyes on her, penis stubbornly pointing to the left. He climbed in, the cheap roughness of the sheets invigorating. Aurora rolled toward him and attempted to kiss his mouth.

  “No, Aurora.” He grabbed her head with both hands. “No, no.”

  She moved away, hurt.

  “You just lie back.” He smiled warmly and threw off the covers. Aurora obediently lay flat on her back as Charles rose up onto all fours.

  After

  Aurora pulled on her jean-tights. They were new. Tights dyed to look like acid-washed denim complete with five fake pockets. She adjusted the pseudo-distressed seams so they ran straight down her legs and pulled on her pink poor boy tank top. Her hair had dried bent and funny; she wet it and pulled it into a braid. There were twenty minutes before she had to meet him downstairs. She lay back down on the rumpled, unmade bed.

  He had smelled her. He had been on all fours and smelled every part, starting with her feet. Sniffing in little bursts. Two quick intakes of breath, sometimes four, then moving a few inches to the next spot. He worked his way up her legs to her stomach, skipping her crotch, and spent a long time on her armpits. Thank God for the shower. She’d been self-conscious, then amused, then aroused by the tiny bursts of air that tickled her skin. But when he insisted she throw her legs over her head, in the beginning position of a backward somersault, and went to work on her completely exposed rear end with the tip of his nose, she thought she would die. He held and sniffed that least fragrant spot on her body, never once speaking or reassuring her, frantically smelling. He stayed there a long time, some
times grunting, sometimes forcing the tip of his nose to enter her slightly. Her back ached and she worried her legs would cramp, or else she would faint in humiliation, when finally he rooted his way up to her female parts. She was so grateful that he’d moved on; she almost wept. He gently unfolded her body, spread her legs, kneeled on the floor by the side of the bed and continued, this time using his fingers and his nose. Aurora’s gratitude changed to intense and somewhat troubling excitement. He opened and poked and licked and she found herself bucking in pleasure and when finally he entered her it was the only thing she wanted in the world.

  Shot

  Charles stood by the door and allowed Aurora to explore the posing room. She kicked off her shoes, stepped up onto the platform and smiled, admiring herself from all the different mirrored angles. She pulled her clingy red cotton skirt up to her waist, exposing her leopard print G-string and flexed her legs, first left then right. She turned and examined her splendid rear end, squeezing it tightly, releasing, squeezing again.

  “We’ll work here,” Charles said. He walked into the room, stood by the platform and looked up at Aurora. She was balanced on her toes and watched her taut diamond-shaped calves.

  “You can see everything,” she said.

  “You’ll pose every day,” Charles said. He felt proud and excited. “I’ll photograph you weekly.” He held out his hand. Aurora pulled down her skirt and stepped off the platform. They walked to the cabinet and he opened the glass doors.

  Aurora leaned in. She read the labels on the bottles, ampules and small boxes of the oral and injectable steroids. “You’ve got everything.”

  “When you get back from your trip we’ll start on Deca-Durabolin and Primabolan Depo.”

  Aurora stepped away from the cabinet.

  “It’s safe.” Charles squeezed her tight round ass.

  “I know.” She met his eyes but didn’t return his smile.