by Dancer, Jack
She is a vision to stop traffic, ceasefire and cause men to lie down and give up their lives, gladly.
“Nanette,” I say, "Could I remove all my clothes? Suddenly, I'm suffering a terrible fever.”
“Hot flashing Tucker?”
“You're a cruel woman Nanette,” I say.
Pau steps up offering a tall glass of ice water, and I drink it thirstily in a single downing.
“Thank you Pau.”
“You're welcome Master. She has the same effect on me too.”
Master?
A strange and warm sensation overcomes me, and I feel lightheaded, not dizzy or off balance, but good. Cares and worries, inhibitions, shed like old skin; replaced by a rejuvenating energy. I've never felt so good, so strong, and alive. And I'm hungry.
“Nanette, I'm sorry if I'm stepping out of line here, but if I don't get something to eat and quick I'll have no choice but to throw myself at you and consume you where you stand.”
“Tucker, ever the gentleman. Please don't tease me with empty promises. Let's partake of one more drink then dinner will be served.”
Three more shots of the familiar clear liquid appear and again, we down them with a single toss.
“Dinner is served,” announces Nanette.
On cue, a hidden panel slides away from the far wall and out rolls a table pulled from each corner by two wire cables extending to the ceiling and into a hidden track. The table abounds with exotic foods of all shapes and colors, spread over what appears to be . . . a human form? I step up to the odd buffet to examine the offerings and the prostrate nude figure lying beneath this Chinese buffet, and just as I suspected, a woman with a mask of brightly colored feathers ringing a pair of emerald green eyes. The lips below, full and sumptuous stretch like an elastic band of red around a red apple stuffed into her mouth. No, it's a ball gag!
The girl's arms extend full out and up, straight past her head like she's stretching, and she is because her wrists are bound together with animal skin, white fur or a pelt of some kind and from that another wire cable stretches taut through a pulley attached to the wall and up into the same ceiling track as the cable pulling the table through the hidden panel.
Pau walks to the end of the table.
I turn to Nanette, "What's this?”
“Just as I promised, Tucker, Monica has joined us for dinner. More than that, she is dinner.”
“What!”
"It's okay Tucker. This is for you. It's Nyotaimori. Monica's gift to you."
"Nyotaimori? What the hell is that?"
"Body sushi," says Pau before Nanette throws him a look shrinking the little guy.
"It's the Japanese practice of serving sashimi or sushi from the naked body of a woman," she explains. "You like sushi don't you?"
"Yes, of course. I love sushi but . . . I don't know about this, Nan."
It’s Monica's idea and it's all for you Tucker, for your pleasure. She thought you'd enjoy it. Go ahead and ask her yourself."
Turning to Monica I lean over her, "Is this true Monica?" She nods yes. "You want to do this?" She nods again, affirmative.
"But this ball gag has to go," I say to Nanette.
"Remove it then," Nanette says and I lean over take it off but I leave the mask in place. Then, dropping my mouth to hers I kiss her deeply.
"I want to do this for you, okay?" she whispers.
"Okay . . . Wait, what about Lloyd? Where's he?" I say, "Hold on just one minute," turning menacingly to Pau. "Are you, Lloyd, Little Bit? Because if you are . . ." I take a quick step toward him. He shrinks and takes cover behind Nanette.
"No Tucker!" hollers Monica. "He's not Lloyd and don't you hurt him!"
"So what about Lloyd?" I yell. Damn, I'm really feeling pumped up here, super powers. Goddamn, I'm thinking.
"Shut up Tucker. There is no Lloyd. Lloyd's over with. Now, don't go and ruin this evening," she screams before a calming voice takes over and she says, "Come over here, Tucker, lean down." I do.
She whispers into my ear, "I want you to enjoy yourself tonight, do anything you want, let yourself go and don't be afraid for me or anything else. It's all in fun and pleasure. Whatever happens let it happen. Just let go and enjoy yourself. I love you, Tucker. There is no one else. Okay?"
She loves me? I'm thinking and, despite the incredible buzz from the high octane blood rushing through my veins, I tell her, okay, Lloyd's dead and good riddance.
I drop my mouth to hers and nearly lose myself kissing her until I hear Nanette's voice.
"Now we have that settled can we get back to the event at hand?"
"Okay," I announce. Then turning back to Monica, "I'm hungry. Mind if I eat you?"
“That's what I'm here for. But just so you know, I'm dinner for Nanette and Pau too.”
Gee, I didn't think of that. Hum. Interesting. What the hell, I think.
I stand and announce, "Let the party resume." And with that I start licking and nibbling the necklace of fish eggs around her neck. Nanette walks up next to me and begins picking off slices of rare Kobe beef from Monica's belly. Pau walks to the other side of the table and drops his mouth onto Monica's breast and sucks away ginger laden fatty tuna from her nipple slowly stretching it as he pulls away. The tuna disappears into his mouth and he goes down again licking wasabi from around the now erect nipple. I look at Monica sharply and she mouths to me, "It's okay. Lick the other."
So, I move to Monica's other breast and begin licking, standing her nipple at attention. Blood starts pumping through me like a rush. All this is getting me pretty worked up and I back off and take my coat off then the waistcoat and throw them both to the wall where they fall to the floor in a heap.
Pau sees me and does the same removing his coat and waistcoat. His starch white shirt puckers forward. Breasts? I think, no, and go back to devouring Monica. Searching with my tongue along the washboard of her ribs my mouth locates a pink shrimp. Slices of fresh pink salmon wrap her arm, and I pick off pieces and shove them into my mouth hungrily. With every bite, it seems like a new rush of energy boils up, getting warmer. I remove the cuff links and throw them to the side and roll up my sleeves before devouring slices of yellow tail tucked between her knees.
Nanette has moved to Monica's feet and with her mouth around one toe pulls off what appears to be a California roll while Pau works the other side of Monica hungrily.
As Nanette shifts to Pau's side of Monica, I go to her thighs and with my teeth pull the Chuka kurage (seasoned jellyfish) between her legs then run my tongue down an oily leg to her ankle. Pau moves to Monica's other thigh and licks up Unagi Chahan (fried rice and fresh water eel) before moving into Monica's nest. Her legs spread slightly inviting Pau to explore, and he takes the invitation and brings his mouth to her, his tongue feeling its way around. She lets out a small moan.
I can’t believe I'm watching this, but it's turning me on to watch her writhing against his mouth. I move back to Monica's side and before going further, rip my shirt open and throw it off then reach down and throw off my shoes and socks too. I'm so hot and sweaty I'm about to explode.
Pau looks up then disappears beneath the table and Monica's thighs begin rubbing together, frustrated at the loss of Pau's mouth. Nanette is at Monica's breasts devouring one while kneading the other's nipple between a thumb and forefinger, her remaining fingers flaring out like a bejeweled wing. She moves to Monica's face and hovering above, locks onto her eyes as if passing a secret message then lowers her mouth onto Monica's, kissing her. Monica accepts Nanette's advance and pulls at her tongue with her lips.
With my face buried greedily into Monica's breasts, I can feel my trousers being unbuttoned, unzipped then pulled down. A hand wraps around me and pulls me into a wet and warm mouth. Nanette, I think, and I lunge forward asking for more. When I raise my head from Monica and see Nanette on the other side of the table over Monica's thigh I think, how is it possible she can be in two places at once? It's not, and I pull back from the table, the mouth
still locked onto me. Pau!
“What?” I yell and reaching down, grab him by both ears and pull him up to my eye level. His eyes bug with fear, knowing he’s about to die.
As quick as a magician, his hands snap together at his chest tearing his shirt open, exposing two small breasts, female breasts and my jaw drops in complete surprise, then relief. With him, now her, still dangling in the air between my hands, I pull her to me and suck a small breast entirely into my mouth. Her hands reach around my back and cling to my shoulders while her legs wrap around my waist in a leg lock, and she's hanging on like a monkey.
After a moment, I push her face away, and she slides down my body to the floor where she pulls off her clothing, then crawls on all fours to me and, rising onto her knees, takes me back into her eager mouth. Her head bobs back and forth, and she looks up at me, her eyes pleading approval but I can't do this and pull away and tuck myself back together.
"Sorry, Pau, I can't. You remind me too much of my little sister and I love my little sister. Is that okay? Do you understand?" I say lying like a dog. I really don't to hurt her feelings.
"It's okay, Tucker," she says giving me a smile. "I wouldn't want to do my yucky brothers either. I'll get us some water."
She goes over to the side table and retrieves glasses of water bringing each of us a glass, including Monica, who can drink only with the assistance of a straw. We all drink as if we've run a marathon. We practically had. Our bodies are slick with sweat. Pau retrieves more shot glasses filling four from the bottle of clear liquid. I take Monica hers, and raising her head, put the shot glass to her lips. She drinks. We empty our glasses.
The liquid goes down exploding like a cherry bomb of Red Bull and another rush of adrenalin shoots through me, taking possession.
“Nice, Tucker, very nice,” Monica says looking down at me coming back alive. "Looks like the nectar's doing its job.”
“What? What nectar?” I ask.
“The shots. What do you think? That all that virility's you’re doing?”
Now I see what's going on. I was wondering where all this extra energy was coming from. I mean, I'm usually never on empty, but this is almost unworldly, and I'm lovin’ it. I can't seem to stop myself. It's like I'm a fuck machine.
“Yes, bring it on,” I say.
“Good,” Nanette says as she pours out another shot and hands it to me. I down it and the rumblings start up again. She passes Pau another shot glass and then feeds one to Monica, lifting her head to help. After Monica downs hers, Nanette tosses the shot glasses to the side, steps behind Monica's head and drops to take Monica's breast into her mouth with Monica reciprocating.
Seeing this, I walk up behind Nanette and press into her from behind. She bolts upward.
“Wait,” she says, "Not yet. Let's not get ahead of ourselves here.”
She pushes me away and steps over to the wall, flips a wall plate and presses a hidden button triggering the wire cable attached to Monica's furred handcuffs lifting her from the table until she's hanging by her wrists from the ceiling, food sliding off to the floor.
“Monica, are you okay,” I yell.
“Yes, Tucker. I'm fine. Continue on,” she says, and Nanette kicks the rolling dinner table across the room.
“Pau, lay,” orders Nanette. Pau does and Nanette pulls another wire cable attached to the ceiling rail wrapping Pau's ankles with the same furry material handcuffing Monica. Then, with a tug of the cable up goes Pau until she's hanging from the ceiling just like Monica, except by her ankles.
Nanette reaches to a wall cabinet behind her and retrieves a cat 'o nine tails. She looks at me and swings the tails across Pau's backside getting a yelp. She gives her another one, and yelps follow; then more whipping and more yelping.
“Tucker,” Nanette says without letting up.
“Yes,” I say startled at what I'm witnessing.
She stops and walks over to me holding out the whip and says, "Here, do the same to Monica.”
“No.”
Then Monica pipes up, "Yes, Tucker. I want you to. Just start off easy, but do it."
I walk over behind Monica and fling the whip at her barely brushing her back.
“You're going to have to do better than that, Tucker,” says Nanette.
“Yeah, Tucker hit me harder. Keep it up until I tell you to stop,” says Monica.
“You sure?” I ask.
“Yes, I want you to, please. I may never do this again,” she says.
I give her another shot, then another and another and each time a little harder until she's screaming, and I stop.
“No, don’t stop. Give me more, Tucker, and keep going. I want to scream don't you see,” says Monica.
“Okay.”
I give her a few more licks until red marks appear on her back.
“That's it. I'm done here. Anymore Monica and Nanette can do it.”
“Okay, Tucker. You can stop for now, but I want you to come over here and take me."
Bout time, I’m thinking and taking her by the legs; I spread ‘em, wrap ‘em around me, and push myself into her bringing on a nice guttural moan. She lets go with another. I take her breast into my mouth and pull on her nipple and pick up with the upward thrusting until she's yelling. I look sideways at the hanging Pau and notice a large green dragonfly tattooed across her back. Strange. Nanette has her face buried between Pau's legs and Pau is struggling her way into Nanette's pelt but having a difficult time of it. She’s just a little too short for a proper fit against the tall Nanette.
Just the sight of these two going at each other, and I'm screaming all that remains of me into Monica and catching Nanette and Pau’s attention. Nanette breaks and goes to the wall cabinet again and begins fumbling around with something. Out of my peripheral vision, I see she's strapping something on.
She walks up behind me and wrapping an arm around my chest, hugging me tightly, I can feel something prodding and pushing at my backside. It's slippery and determined, and its short thrusts eventually burns its way inside. I scream at the invasion as memories of that first torturous colonoscopy at the tender age of 23 come flooding into my mind. My sphincter clamps down like the Jaws of Life and everything I've got launches into Monica leaving my gut cramping like a honeybee after that first, last and only sting yanks its insides out.
Nanette backs off with the enema, but then a cat 'o nine tails tears across my back, and without any thought whatsoever, reflex launches a left hook to her jaw, knocking her across the room where she slams into the wall, and like a rag doll, slides down into a pile.
“Holy shit!”
I run over to her, and she's out cold. I pat her cheek. "Nanette, Nanette.”
Holy shit. I killed her!
She comes to; eyes a bit out of focus and wandering, but she shakes it off.
"Oh, my God Nanette, I am so sor . . ."
She grabs me by the arms, startling the bejesus outta me and starts screaming, "Fuck me Tucker, fuck me! Hard, Tucker! Fuck me with fury! Do it! Now!”
I flip her onto her stomach, rip the fish net stockings at the crotch then pull her onto all fours, kicking her legs apart with my knees, and right there, take her, hard and brutal; slamming her with all I've got, like punching meat, and she’s begging for more.
I weave my fingers through those yummy brunette locks into a fist and yank her pretty head back, stretching her milk-white Swan's neck to the point of snapping. And all it does is add fuel to the, "Fuck me harder” mantra, fire. This woman knows no limits, but she's met her match tonight because I'm a man possessed, driven by an energy coursing through my veins like a raging bull.
Then, a new sound tears through my ringing ears.
It's the peanut gallery - the duo trussed like slaughterhouse meat hanging from the rafters. Monica and Pau picking up on Nanette's mantra, chanting, "Fuck her, Tucker, fuck her Tucker, fuck her harder, fuck her true, fuck her true blue . . ."
It's now, when all this riot of madness turns, and whatever r
emains of my rational mind bitch-slaps me into a momentary pause at reality.
What the hell am I doing? Those shots of liquor! Drugs? Viagra maybe? Whatever!
I'm a stallion, and I'm mounting a filly; ramming her with every hard pull of the reins. I'm a show at the Bagdad for those two, egging me on from the rafters, waiting their turn. If anyone saw what's going on here I'd be locked up for life!
A Klaxon, screaming damage control, goes off in my head, and as fast as I yank myself out of Nanette, you'd've thought I'd decapitated my little head on her back teeth.
She flops to the floor like a puppet with its string's cut rolling onto her back and clutching her jaw says, "Shucker, shat wash faboowoosh. Yur a stah now."
"What're you talking about?” I say.
"Yur uh stah Shucker. You jush show yur shtuf to da ho whorl ova forey wife porno schites. Whaya shink bout dat Shucker?"
Holy shit!
"I want a contract?"
forty-one
Morning, Saturday, 6 September.
The Hotel Arts.
Wrapped in the cocoon of my feather bed and with an onslaught of dreamy sensualities and cardinalities from last night's Pleasure Room, so vividly real I seeded bed sheets in testimony, and would've willingly remained had it not been for the rude hand of consciousness reaching down and pulling me, kicking and screaming to its surface. I was so taken by the experience; I'm now certain alternate realities exist.
Next to me, Monica stirs, and before she fully awakens, knowing how quickly these things fade, I ask if she's also being snatched out of the same uber-dream world I'd been extricated from.
"Yes. When I saw you being pulled up, and away, I tried to grab your legs and hold onto you, but you kicked me in the head, and that's when . . . are you sure we're not still dreaming?"
"I don't think so."
"Do we have to be here? I wanna go back. I was in the throes of the most divine orgasm, and I want it back, Tucker . . . you are, Tucker, aren't you?” she says turning toward me, her perplexed emerald isles dialing for focus. I don't even bother to go where I'd normally go with that. So why bring Lloyd up?