Kobe Bryant: lying rapist. Michael Jackson: pedophile. Paul Rubens: smacking the meat in a porno theatre. R. Kelley: thirteen-year old fucker. Paul Brenardo: sick fuck. The difference between them and I? My victim was of legal and wanted every beating she got. She enjoyed it. As did Demonica and I.
We’d landed in Philly. As soon as I’d gotten my legs back, I was sick to my stomach. I’d run off to the lavatory and stayed there for a good half a hour; kissing porcelain, of course. I had been huddled on the floor beside the toilet, until Demonica had come and fetched me. My hero. At least I’d managed to hold my stomach until I was off the plane.
I had fallen asleep in m hotel room, still wearing the clothes I’d been on while on the plane. I took a few minutes to brush my teeth before passing out on my stomach, barely able to push my boots off before falling into a sick slumber. I’d been out since we’d checked in, and I’d be damned if I knew how long that was. I could feel the cold breeze from the air conditioner against the small of my back. Obviously, my shirt was not hiding the ‘shame’ I should have had, though did not possess.
I was shifting in and out of sleep. I heard the door open, then close again. A few moments later after darkness, I heard feet padding across the carpeted floor, trying to be quiet. It was either Demonica or Necron: I doubted the latter highly. I opened my eyes, to look out between slits that were hidden beneath eyelashes. Indeed, I was correct. A feminine frame had moved up beside my bed. I drew back into darkness, only rousing when I felt the pressure of feet on the bed. Oh no. I knew this was not going to be good, but there was nothing I could do about it. I was still asleep, but registering the on-goings.
I was just able to mutter ‘fuck’ before I felt Demonica’s boney ass drop down onto the small of my back. I felt her hand curl around my bra strap. I shouted loudly, though no words came out. It was just… noise: incoherent shouting like that of someone trying to wake someone else who was sleep-walking. Not a good idea.
“Who’s your mommy, bitch?!” I heard her shout. So much for sleeping well. Without much warning, I rolled onto my back, pushing my shoulders into Demonica’s chest, sneering. I was exhausted, and this was going to make me grumpy and bitchy all day. Yeah, fucking great. Wonderful. PEACHY!
“Garghhhh… femme foutue d'enfer, vous êtes fou!” I shouted, not even realizing that I was still drifting between French and English speech. I sat up and crawled off the bed, curling up on the floor. “Fuck off…” I whined softly, drawing the pillow off the bed and putting it over my head, drawing myself into foetal position, hugging my knees to my chest.
“No you aren't. You can't be doing that. There's fun to be had little trooper. Besides you look so sexy in clothing you've been wearing for an extended period of time and I got all dressed up for ya baby.” I snorted faintly, poking my head up from beneath the pillow, wincing faintly. There may have not been much light in the room, but it was enough light to cause displeasure. Demonica jumped off the bed and stood over me, almost forcing me to look up her skirt. “Can Gwenny come out and play?” I winced again.
“No, Gwenny cannot come out and play. Her and Monica have to go to a press conference because the rat-bastard public wants to know what’s going down.” I mumbled, faintly, pushing myself up onto shaky hands and knees before moving over to my duffle bag. I yawned faintly, leaning against the table as I drew out a pair of black jeans, much like the ones I were already wearing – torn and ripped – and a black tank top with black, satin ribbons that hung down to just about my elbows. “I need a shower. Meet me in the lobby in twenty?” I asked, nearly pleading with Demonica. I needed to wake up, and after being woken so abruptly and not-nicely, I needed a cold shower.
“You're no fun. I wanted to play. Should I go to the conference dressed like this? I'm thinking about it.” I turned around to look at her, brow raised curiously. I took in what she was wearing in its entirety. I laughed faintly, running a hand through my hair, smoothing it down a bit.
“I’m sorry. I just want to get it all over with. Once we’re done we can play, I promise…” I slid across the floor, pushing a few of Demonica’s locks behind her ear. “Promise, ‘kay?” I said, almost beseechingly. I stared Demonica right in the eye. I was probably one of the few people who could and did without being smacked or becoming fearful.
“Okay, I guess…” I winced faintly at her reply. I tilted my head to the side, that little smirk returning to my lips. I was feeling better, and a bit more awake now.
“Well… you could always join me.” I said with a laugh. I gave Demonica a playful pat to the hip, moving towards the washroom door, dropping my clothes on the floor beside the sink. I heard her begin to follow me, the ruffle of her clothes falling onto the floor.
“Damn and I just got dressed…” With that, the door to the washroom closed.
