Reborn, All Over
The dark red hue of the interior combines with the atmospheric lighting and the smoke of many a cigar and cigarette for a stereotypically hazy lounge vibe, further enhanced by the pleasant but bland background music. I stand just beyond the entrance, on a raised section separating the bar and the thoroughfares from the proper lounging area. Once my eyes have adapted, I move over to the bar, my pleated skirt swishing around my legs in time with the clicking of my heels, sauntering all the way, my practice paying in off as pronounced elegance.
I flash the barkeep my best flirty smile, and his own smile shows that either I’m doing it right, or he’s just as much of a ‘professional’ as I am. Probably both. My drink is a light mix, pleasant and smooth, good to get the buzz going, nowhere near hard liquor. I half sit on my stool, half lean on the bar, relaxed pose showing confidence and an attractive body, not too outrageous but making for quite the package. My gaze slowly sweeps over the establishment, tastefully made-up eyes taking in the other patrons, assessing them in turn. Only occasionally, my gaze is met, for I am quick despite being thorough, and when eyes do touch, I smile lightly, perhaps inclining my head a little before moving on to the next subject.
It’s not long before I’ve found my target, and I finish the drink, ordering a new one that I take along to his table. One hand firmly on my hip, I place the glass down, smiling at him, knowing he won’t resist for long. The young man is handsome in a rugged way, which goes remarkably well with his neglected blazer. His tie is hanging loosely around his throat, his shirt unbuttoned about halfway down, and he peers at me grumpily over the edge of a much-used shot glass. Despite the demeanor that makes me think he must have been dumped recently, I keep smiling, trusting the effect to hit soon enough. Letting the silence drag for a few seconds, I break it as I lean forward a little, improving his good view of my slightly under-average but attractively shaped cleavage. “Mind if I sit?” Instead of answering, he eyes me over, expression gruff, and shakes his head briskly. I let myself down in to the comfortable chair across from him smoothly, crossing my legs as I settle in, taking a sip of my drink. “Why so glum? Heartache?” He seems to consider his reply briefly, nodding just as briskly afterwards. Almost as an afterthought, he mumbles a ‘yeah’, shifting in his seat, posture opening just the slightest. I let my gaze linger on the subtly muscled chest exposed by his open shirt, and he can’t help but smirk as he sees me look. He clears his throat, voice raspy with the alcohol, and the cynicism drips from his expression and words as he comments: “I don’t usually go for ‘easy’ girls.” With an amused smile, I cross and re-cross my legs, gaze near his eyes as I sip again. “You’ll be surprised.”
Some of my good mood must apparently be trickling over, because the cynicism is slowly being replaced with the first hints of amusement and a reluctant acceptance of the reality of the moment. “Fine, then, just this once.” I lean back, once more relaxing in the seat, and he has shifted to a more active posture as well, resulting in a significantly less disheveled look. “I’m Jake, by the way.” He clears his throat again, not even trying to keep his gaze from roaming my form again. “In case you care.” I don’t show any sign of hurt at the barb, instead giving him the same amused smile again, a casual nod. “Hello, Jake.” Raising the glass to my lightly glossed lips, I’m content to eye him over the rim for now, seeing him grow slightly uncomfortable with the complete lack of even any pretense at socializing. With a sigh, he rolls his eyes before refocusing them on me. “Allright then. Your place or mine?” I snicker at his boldness, shaking my head quickly, and get up from the chair smoothly, drinking half of what’s left in my glass in one go. “One sec, dear.” He watches me move back to the bar deftly, no doubt enjoying the view of my swaying ass in the process, and I exchange some quick, near-whisper words with the bartender, passing some coin directly in to his hand. His hovers over mine briefly as his eyes do a lightning-quick sweep of the room, noting to his satisfaction there’s no other staff in sight. Only then does he withdraw his own hand, and I empty my hand in to my purse, winking at him as I click it shut again and spin on my heels to return to Jake’s table. “I got us a room.”
Brow rising in amusement, he shrugs mildly, and then starts getting up as well, straightening his clothing just a little, clearing his throat a third time. I wait for him patiently, and as soon as he’s on his feet, barely swaying to his credit, I offer my arm, which he takes in appropriately gentleman-like fashion. Clinging to his side like a good bring-along girlfriend, I lead us towards a hall in the back. We pass by the toilets and slip past a curtain, where we stop in front of a double door. I dig out the keys I’ve borrowed from the barkeep, grin as I bring my finger to my lips in the universal ‘quiet’ sign, and then turn back to the door to unlock it silently. Keys back in my purse, I ease it open, and we both step inside, allowing me to close the single door I’ve open behind us gently. I find the switch easily, and smile as more of the club’s gentle light fills the cozy back room, leaving romantic shadows in the corner, the bulbs doing a fairly good job at recreating a candle-lit mood. I smile coyly, my step notably slower as I gently pull him along by his hand, taking Jake to one of the shadowy corners, a couch looking inviting and comfortable. My hand leaves his a few steps away from our destination, and I lie down on the suitably sized couch before him, looking up with a knowing smile. Any sign of hesitance is gone from his features, and to his own shock, apparent behind the lust in his gaze, he starts tearing his clothes off as fast as possible.
His still-clad knees settle on the couch on either side of mine, and I pull in one leg as my arms wrap around his neck. I bring myself up a little to press the first kiss to his lips, and again I look in to his eyes, fear rapidly losing ground to overwhelming lust in his gaze. By the time I’ve gotten my feet out of the near-knee boots, he’s kissing back just as hungrily, our tongues already locked in their struggle. Eager to take advantage of the strength I perceived beneath the skin of his torso, I wrap my legs around his midriff, my skirt offering no resistance at all as gravity bunches it up around my waist, exposing my visibly damp knickers. He bears my weight admirably as I slip my lips away, covering his face and neck in an assault of pecks and smooches, moving so fast he’s having trouble getting his own lips to their intended spot against my skin. I gasp softly as he suddenly seems to collapse underneath me, but he’s merely rolling us over. Now sitting on his waist, hands resting on his chest gently, my smile playful. He smiles back up, hands fretting about his pants awkwardly, and with a smirk, I lift myself up on my knees slightly, giving him the room he needs to pull everything down in one swoop, raging hard-on pointing straight up and in to my skirt. Shifting my weight on to one hand on his chest, I bring the other up to pull my panties down, bringing my legs together briefly. My hand touches his manhood briefly on it’s way down, and I can feel it throb, my grin growing as I lean back, reaching my heels and discarding the underwear carelessly. Our eyes meet and we grin simultaneously as I hike up my skirt, spreading my knees again to keep it up. I’m freshly shaven and more then moist, and I use my hands one at a time to guide his to my waist. He nods in understanding as I begin to lower myself, guiding me onto target with gentle but insistent pressure.
When I can’t go any further, I gasp, and he disrupts his panting to smile up at me. I nod, barely perceptible, and my hands press against his chest as I lift myself up a little, plunging back down in time with his thrust. In no time, we’ve worked up to a steady rhythm, and I can’t help but moan every other thrust, needing the other half to draw breath deeply, complimenting his sweaty forehead and frequent grunts. I can hear the couch creak under us as we maintain our ravaging pace, and his expression is distorting, courtesy of the concentration required and the sheer intensity of our humping. I smile inwardly, but my face must look much the same, as I feel the tension rising to the heights I’ve missed so dearly since they took him. The memories fill my head, mix with my imagination, and I cry out as the pleasure ripples across my body. I can feel his orgasm coinciding with mine, and it triggers even more memories that I ride out as I collapse on to his chest, panting, heaving, just barely aware of a gentle hand moving to my back, stroking underneath my two layers of top.
His heartbeat thumps in my ear, to be disrupted by the rumbling I can feel and his voice I hear, sounding almost reverent after a few gasps for air. “You’re... you’re... unnatural..” Releasing my hooks from his mind gently, I can’t help but smile, lying still for a moment more as I sense him struggling to a sitting position. Sitting up slowly myself, still atop him, I look around on the carpet for my discarded under-thing, which I find and toss towards his chest. Taking a moment to compose myself, I smile down at him, straightening my outfit. “I’ll see you out at the bar in a moment?” Without waiting for an answer, I slide off him and the couch, slipping my feet back in to my boots expertly, and head for the door after a last smiling glance in Jake’s direction. “Don’t forget the lights, Jakey dear.” He merely grunts in affirmation. As I settle at the bar with a new drink, my thoughts wander, and I smile as I contemplate his words, dredged up from memory.
He was right, from the very beginning. When you enter a significant new phase in life, it’s like being born, all over again.
Tess sighs as her gaze sweeps over the mirror. She wasn’t in the mood to come to the same conclusions yet again, and instead merely decides to finish her outfit by slipping in to her favourite pair of sneakers. The spring-bright morning sun pierces through the window, making her squint at the glare in the mirror. Sighing out her annoyance, she simply walks past, pulling the bedroom door shut behind her. Her bag’s by the desk, where she left it yesterday, and Tess smiles as she once more contemplates the advantages of living on her own, finally, with no housemates to move her things about. No one around, either, to comment on the poster on the door, a quirky depiction of reincarnation she likes to stare at dreamily when contemplating the deeper mysteries of life. Over a simple breakfast of cereal and OJ, her mood perks back up to the gentle, quiet cheer her friends know her for, and when she takes off to college half an hour later, any visible trace of bad mood has vanished completely.
The bus ride starts out uneventfully enough, with various people, lots of them college-age, filling up the seats as she closes in on town centre. A lot of the faces around the bus are familiar, though there’s only a few she knows by name, and she’s content watching the scenery glide by, chin propped up on her hand lazily. Out of nowhere, a slight nagging in a distant corner of her head builds up as they approach one of the many stops, and she mumbles distractedly when a fellow passenger asks after the other seat. “Sure, it’s free.” She’s taken to rubbing her forehead gently, when her eyes suddenly meet the gaze of the young man in the seat next to her, reflected in the window. The headache flares to a near migraine for the briefest of moments, gone before she has time to react to it, and then any sign of cramp is gone completely. Blinking with confusion, she looks around the bus once, not sure what she’s looking for, and by then she spots her stop coming up, excusing herself to the man next to her as she drags herself to her feet and begins moving for the exit.
The strange incident sinks to the recesses of her mind as she autopilots her way through the day at college, contact firmly limited to the necessary and her close circle of friends as always, casual style of dress and the polite but friendly distance she projects to strangers meaning she doesn’t attract any more attention then she wants to, despite her girl-next-door good looks. She’s in the campus espresso bar, finishing up an assignment before heading home, when the man from the bus enters, her gaze drawn to him immediately. He’d obviously spotted her from the outside, as he heads straight for her table, eyes steady on herself. She shifts on the booth-like couch uncomfortably as he takes a seat on the other side of the table, his soft voice and dark, penetrating eyes making her skin crawl. “Hello.” “Uh... hey.”, she responds quietly, sipping her espresso, looking down to her textbook to avoid his gaze. “You’re from the bus... I feel so lucky to’ve run in to you again.” He’s leaning forward on folded arms, his side of the conversation almost intimately soft-spoken, and she can’t help but follow his example, lowering her own voice similarly. “Uhm.. yeah.. I remember you.”
Her response feels awkward from her lips, and the thought crosses her mind that he must be able to tell how uncomfortable she is right now. The unknown stranger shows no signs of it, however, and she can’t help but find the smile he shows in between sentences decidedly unpleasant. “I’m kinda new in town... would you mind... showing me the fun spots some time tonight?” An actual shiver runs down her spine, and she’s completely unable to focus on her work, normally an easy task, even while conversing. “S.. sure..”, she stammers, and before she has time to direct her muddled thoughts to the why of her own answer, he’s pulled out his cellphone, looking at her with a smile that doesn’t come close to sincere or genuine. “Care to give me your number, then?” Putting her book aside to better focus on brushing him off, she opens her mouth to refuse, instead stammering out the digits clearly. “Thanks.” It sounds suspiciously like a snort, and as she’s still reeling from what she’s done, he’s already getting back up to leave , suddenly agitated and foul-mooded.
Tess frets throughout the rest of the afternoon, the strange sensation of being mentally ‘under water’ lingering the entire time, apparently stopping her from focusing on anything but the motions towards getting ready for her ‘date’ of the night. She can’t help but shaking the feeling of being used, not even after a shower and a fresh change of clothes, and by the time her own phone finally rings, she’s decidedly grumpy and firm in her determination to tell him her ‘yes’ was a mistake. Right before she hits ‘accept’, a wave of confusion hits her thoughts, eerily similar to drowning, and her “Hello?” sounds meek and shy instead of the confidence she was aiming for. “Tessa?” She can’t remember telling him her name, but then again, it’s hard enough right now to remember anything from today clearly, and she merely answers positively. “Yes?” “It’s Jacob... when can I come pick you up?” “Jacob?” She has to strain to bring a face to her mind’s eye, but he emerges from the thick sea of her thoughts, and she stammers in to the phone. “Y.. yeah.. of course.. Jacob..” Within a matter of moments, he’s lead the conversation in to her giving him her address, after which he announces his impending arrival and simply hangs up, headache lingering in her muddled skull.
As she awaits the mysterious ‘Jacob’, eyes on the bus stop across the road from her window, a growing sense of unrest impedes itself on her senses, coupled with a growing, suppressive ache in her skull and feet. On a whim, she frees her curls from their ponytail, sighing in relaxation as the strands settle around her shoulders. She kicks off her sneakers, and then tears at her socks, content to pad to the couch barefooted, letting out another sigh as both aches subside again. Once she’s properly relaxed, stretched out over the couch, the tension fades up to the point where she loses track of time till the doorbell sounds, and she gets to her feat with a start. He rings again, impatiently, and she almost panics, looking first to her sneakers, wincing at the remembered discomfort, and then glances around numbly for a miraculous extra pair. The thought strikes her when he rings for the third time, and she hurries over to her closet, digging out a pair of heeled sandals she’s been keeping around for dressy occasions. They’re surprisingly more comfortable then the sneakers, and she calms down a little as she moves for the door, managing an actual smile when she opens the door for him.
Jacob looks her over admiringly, eyes lingering on the heels and the hairdo, and then steps aside, gesturing to the sidewalk in a sweeping bow. She can’t help but smile at his theatricality, reaching for a jacket that goes with her jeans, which she shrugs on before turning around and locking the door with the key from her pocket. As they settle down on the bench at the bus-stop, she remembers who she’s with, and the discomfort returns in full strength. It’s not helping that he’s sitting familiarly close, and after a few minutes even has the gall to slip an arm around her shoulders. Despite herself, she can’t bring herself to protest, and they’re still in that pose when the bus hisses to a halt in front of them. He leads her gently by her hand as they board, and the driver smiles at the sight of the two of them holding hands. She freezes in the spot as she realizes what he’s seeing, but she’s saved from embarrassment when Jacob pays for both their tickets and then takes her along to the seats directly behind the driver, forcing them to share a cramped space.
Several stops in to the journey, Tessa realizes she has no idea where they’re going, but from within her once more growing confusion, she doesn’t have what it takes to ask. The bus ride takes them straight to the heart of what ‘nightlife’ the small college town has, for it’s slowly becoming evening, and his hand on hers takes them to a cozy restaurant she would have loved on any other evening. They sit down at a secluded corner table, and the chef personally comes out to hand them their menus with a smile, completely ignoring her as he discusses wines with Jacob. The two of them haven’t spoken a word since he picked her up at her apartment, but the one feeling that’s not ambiguous in the cold, oppressive mess of her thoughts is that it’s not her place to break that silence now.
The silence remains throughout an admittedly excellent dinner of lobster and salad, wine flowing freely despite her strongly rooted dislike of the drink. As they settle down after dinner, his eyes lock on hers, and she finds herself unable to bear the stare, looking down as she tends to her lips with a napkin. “So, Tess, are you enjoying yourself tonight?” Realizing with mild shock that it’s an actual question she’s expected to answer, Tess mumbles a half-hearted ‘sure’, which to her surprise seems to amuse him greatly. He leans back in the chair, stretching his arms behind his head, and his smile seems, for a change, genuine, if no less unpleasant. “Well, don’t worry your pretty little head... it’s going to get even better.” Content with her frightened silence, he beckons for the waiter, settling the bill quickly before escorting her outside. She locks arms with him almost desperately, for some reason irrationally hoping she can cling to her safety by clinging to him, needing all that remains of her concentration to keep up with him in the infrequently worn heels.
This time, her ‘date’ brings her to the front entrance of a club she’s never heard of or seen before, but instead of making for the door, they end up in the alley besides the building. She glances at the side-street they’ve come from, realizing this is the most secluded it gets this close to centre. Her growing discomfort is suddenly swept aside by the realization that his hands are on her hips, and that he’s leaning in for a kiss. Opening her lips to gasp out in fright, she instead meets his, feeling his tongue slip inside briefly, wanting to back away in revulsion. As all she does is stare at him, horror-stricken, and he smiles devilishly, taking her by her hand. As they enter the club proper, she catches her own reflection in one of the mirrored walls. The creature comprising her mirror image is showing none of the conflict or deadly fear that’s churning in her mind, and she curses herself inwardly for having picked her tightest, most flattering shirt, apt for the dance floor, if not for shielding her from unnerving suitors.
Ordering beer for both of them, Jacob picks a table, not giving her enough time to even sit down. Tonight, the lowered central section of the hazy, stylish club has been cleared to make a dance floor, and the first relaxed, slow tune is filtering in from the speakers. Her gaze settles on his face as they dance, his arms intimately confident around her body, the smile on his face permanent and disturbing. As the night progresses, the drinks flow, and the situation settles on her mind, her thoughts lose focus slowly, until she’s no more but a spectator, watching from within her own body as it laughs and flirts, following him through the motions of what would have been a spectacular night out, had it been anyone she actually liked. Reality comes back to her with a shock as her knees meet the carpet, and she belatedly realizes he’s taken her to a dead-end hallway, where they’re now hidden by a curtain, Jacob’s back resting against a firmly-locked double door. His pants are already around his ankles, and to her own horror, she’s lucidly aware of her own hand dipping inside his boxers, freeing his straining rod, swollen and springing to attention.
Her eyes go up to his, wanting to plead for the end, to fight back, but he nods quickly, and she finds herself bringing her lips to his tip, placing a loving kiss before she takes the entire head in her mouth in one go. His hands settle on her neck as she wraps her own around him, taking it in as far as she can go, pulling out quickly as her gag reflex is about to fire, disgusted with herself to the core. Urged on by a mind that’s no longer her own, she wraps her lips around him tightly, using them and her teeth to pleasure him as she goes as far down again. He leans back against the door a little, grunting out his enjoyment, and as she pumps and sucks, she can feel her conscious subsiding beneath the intangible waves that have been clouding her judgement all night long. She speeds up, even her inborn gag-reflex suppressed by his complete and absolute domination, and when he finally dumps his load in between her lips, she immediately realizes, to her horror, that he needs her to swallow. As she obediently slurps down, Jacob bears all his teeth in a wide, wicked grin. “That’s right, my pet... rebirth awaits...”
Despite having recently moved in to the area, it’s only a few weeks before Jacob’s brief slice of paradise comes to an end. The two sun-glassed suits don’t even bother to knock, using a small and complicated device to mimic the key, turning the cylinder effortlessly, one drawing a heavy-duty pistol as he nods to the other, who opens the door in an endlessly-repeated execution of flawless timing. Jacob is sitting in his newly acquired leather easy chair, lecturing to Tessa, who’s on her knees before him, smiling happily as he drives home a seemingly endless string of humiliating views on life, most of which boil down to his own superiority over everyone in general, and her in particular.
She nods eagerly, having settled in to her place at his feet mere days after moving in with him, and when the floorboard in the hall creaks, she looks up in surprise, blinking as she has to regain the ability to think for herself on a moment’s notice. Jacob darts out of his chair and crashes in to the kitchen with an agonized groan, and the ocean of submission begins to shift inside her mind. It’s as if someone has torn down the dams, and she can feel all the oppression, all the artificial love flow out of her like a river. A sharp barb of migraine coincides with Jacob’s last scream, and the two agents burst in to the living room, guns cocked and ready. Clutching her head in sheer agony, Tess curls up in the corner, instinctively lashing out at the two intruders, her inner ocean surging at their barely protected psyches.
Gunshots sound as the two stand in the doorway to the kitchen, and both relax visibly as Jacob releases his dying breath. “Did you feel that?” “Yeah... must have been one last, desperate attack.... Y’know, like a dog you’ve cornered.” The front brute chuckles, stuffing his pistol back in to a suit-jacket that barely fits around his sculpted torso. His mate chuckles along, and the two move further in to the kitchen, crouching low to check the target’s pulse and other such formalities. “Y’know, it strikes me as odd... “ The other’s returned to the living room, surveying slowly, gaze passing over the shivering Tess in the corner several times, not a single sign he’s even registering her presence. “This guy was all power and no skill... he should’ve easily been able to whip a few local co-eds in to his cum-sluts, though he would’ve been messy about it.” The ape in the living room has to think before answering, and when he does, he scratches his head in confusion. “Yeah... uh.. should have. He’s obviously not one of the capable ones, or we would’ve had help. Heck, it wouldn’t have been this easy.” “Yeah, exactly, man, that’s what I mean.” The man emerges from the kitchen to join his buddy at the window, and he can’t help but smile as he takes of his shades, enjoying the sight of the setting sun. “Maybe we just got lucky this time?” “Maybe.” His co-worker shrugs, and after a moment of enjoying the view together, he pulls out a phone that looks way to tiny for his large, muscled hands, and as they walk down the sidewalk towards their unmarked van, he speaks in to set at a hushed tone. “Mission accomplished, target down. Send in the clean-up crew.”
The stars wink in to existence one by one, and in the darkening living room, Tess lays shivering, her eyes open and slowly regaining clarity. By the time the cleaners arrive, she’s taken off through the backyard, drawing none of the expected curious glances as she starts down the road downtown, her skimpy skirt still retaining some dirt from her brief flight through the garden. She gazes up towards the night sky, wishing she could see the stars instead of the glare of human lights. It’s, after all, not every day, the average young woman is born again.
I sip my drink quietly, making small talk with the barkeep as I scout through my fragmented memories slowly. Jake shows up from the back room a few minutes later, slipping me the keys covertly, which I then return to their owner. I enjoy the peaceful silence as he orders a last drink of his own, and in the small talk that follows I gain his card and a few more sheepish comments about how this is not his usual thing. As our drinks empty, he finally remembers to ask for my name, and with a smile, I rise from my stool, giving him one last charming wave over my shoulder as I head for the exit. “I’ll call. Don’t worry.”