Mr. Black

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A Mysterious Stranger and Samhain at the Club.
1.5k words
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The heavens raged. Thunder boomed continuously, lightning flashes were coming down so often that night seemed like day, the wind howled. All in all a terrible night to be in except that it was the eve before Samhain and the weather fit.

Two bored ladies sat at their table inside the entrance door to the Twysted Knot, a private club catering to those of the BDSM persuasion.

"I can't wait until we're done," Val said to her coworker, Carla. "James is waiting here for me, we have plans for tonight." She suggestively wiggled her eyebrows and both ladies giggled.

"Well," Carla replied, "I need to get out of here by 11 so I can make it to my coven. We're welcoming in Samhain at midnight."

Val cocked an eyebrow. "Samhain? That anything like Halloween?"

Carla smiled. "Halloween kind of came from it. It's a pagan celebration, the start of a 3 day period when the doors between life and death open. Kind of need to make sure the wrong things don't come through the door."

"Pagan? You're a witch or something?" Val asked incredulously.

Carla laughed. "No, I'm a pagan. No warts or green skin or riding around on a broomstick. Just simple earth magic."

The door blew open and rain and wind pounded inside. Evil green dry ice smoke swirled upwards, a hideous cackling emanated from the 2 squat Gargoyle statues guarding either side of the door, and a man parted the mists.

"Oh, god, that is so lame already!" Carla wailed.

"I know, you'd think someone could come up with some original Halloween decorations" agreed Val.

They both stared at the man who had entered. Both had the same thought. There was no umbrella, he hadn't put one down, but he was dry as a bone.

"Oh my gods and goddesses," whispered Carla, "check this guy out. Be still my quivering flesh!" Val squeezed her knee under the table in agreement.

He was a bit over 6 feet tall, dressed in a jet black suit which was molded to him like a second skin and showing off a lean muscular frame. His hair matched the suit's darkness. Piercing eyes in a drop-dead handsome face settled on the ladies and a smile cracked his lips.

"Good evening." The voice flowed from him like oil. "I'm here to meet someone."

An uncomfortable silence hung for a few more seconds before Val broke from her reverie.

"Sorry, my attention wandered for a second. What member are you here to see?"

"I believe she goes by the name Shadows91," he replied.

Carla checked the database. "I'm sorry, sir, but I'm not finding a guest request under her account. we need this to allow access. This is a private club."

The man leaned over the table and gazed steadily at them. "There must be a glitch in the system."His voice was low and resonant, "please check again."

"That's not possible, sir, I...son of a gun!" Val exclaimed, looking over Carla's shoulder. "There it is, Mr. Black, guest invitee for tonight."

"But...I swear the screen was blank a second ago," Carla exclaimed.

The man chuckled. "Computers and I don't seem to get along," he said.

Val pushed over an electronic pad. "You'll need to sign, absolving the Knot for anything which happens to you inside, your agreement not to use any recording devices, the usual legal mumbo-jumbo."

"Oh yes," he chuckled again, "we all have legal niceties that must be observed."

"There's also the matter of the guest fee," Carla said almost apologetically, "and I'll need to see a picture ID."

Val was almost afraid to look but finally glanced at the screen. Entries indicated that the fee had been paid, his ID was recorded, and he had signed the agreement even though neither lady had seen him move.

Carla mumbled under her breath and thrust a hand towards the man. The index and pinkie fingers were extended.

He watched with amusement. "Relax, little one. I am not the one you think I am. Although I've been told there is something of a family resemblance. And that thing you've been worrying about, no need to do so. It isn't malignant."

"What's that about, girl?" Val asked. "And what did he mean about something you've been worrying about?"

"I...I had to have a biopsy a few days ago, I've been worried sick that it was cancer."

"Oh, Carla, you should have said something," Val scolded, throwing an arm around the other's shoulders, "no one should go through that alone."

The man passed by them into the club. As he did, the computer gave a single bleep and records disappeared from the database.

Carla sighed. "I'm so bored. I don't think we've had anyone through those doors in hours."

"Yeah," Val agreed, "I don't know who would come out on a night like this except for pervs like us." Both girls giggled.

A Princess, Naughty Nurse, Evil Witch, and Belly Dancer sat morosely nursing drinks at their table. Music crashed over them, bodies swirled all around. Some were dancing to music. Others were dancing to the music of floggers, whips, and other instruments of stimulation wielded by partners in the area containing the play equipment.

"Earth to Lorene, Earth to Lorene," the Nurse said to the Princess, who had been gazing over to where an intense flogging was being visited on a lady by her partner. "See anything you like?"

"I'm sorry, Bets," Lorene weakly smiled, "just watching others have their fun tonight."

"Yeah," broke in Stacy the Witch, "I doubt we're going to see any of that ourselves. There must be 10 times as many subbies as doms here tonight, no lack of willing bodies for any guy wanting action."

Jenny the Belly Dancer shrugged. "Just like every other night here. Just like being in the scene."

Lorene took a small sip from her drink. "This ain't no pity party, girls, at least we have each other. Our times will come. Let's have our fun."

She stopped talking when she saw her 3 tablemates staring over her shoulder, their mouths hanging open. "What?" she said, turning and staring.

The man stood behind her, smiling. "Shadows, I'm surprised you forget me."

Lorene just stared. And stared some more. He was incredibly handsome. He radiated pure power. And was he talking to her?

The man continued. "Did you forget that we agreed to meet here tonight? I'm sorry I'm a bit late but it has been a busy night for me, more work than I expected."

"Why, you little bitch," Stacy said, although there wasn't real malice in her voice. "Holding out on us all this time."

"Yeah, who's the guy?" Jenny asked breathlessly.

Lorene looked puzzled. "This is...this is...."

The man laughed. "Oh, Shadows, I love your sense of humor. Ladies, I am Shadow's friend Black. We've been talking on-line and agreed to meet here tonight where she would be in the safety of her friends."

"We did, didn't we." A smile broke across Lorene's face. "Yes, this is Black."

"And we have a date for some play, my dear." The man extended his hand and gently pulled Lorene to her feet when she put her tiny hand in his. She melted into his side when he put his arm around her and led her to the other side of the room. Her friends watched in amazement.

As they approached some equipment, a man and his partner abruptly stopped their play, cleaned up, and walked off. Mr. Black took her hand. "Shall we begin, my dear?"

Lorene plopped down in her seat and eagerly gulped down water. Her friends had looks of shock on their faces, as did others all over the room, especially the sub women.

"Did...did that feel as good as it looked?" Bets whispered.

"I think I came just watching you," Jenny shivered.

"No, 100 times better," Lorene sighed.

"How did you meet that guy? Does he have any brothers or cousins?" Jenny jokingly asked.

Lorene looked at her in puzzlement. "Sorry, sweetie, who were you talking about?"

The four friends looked at each other in puzzlement. A man walked across the floor, none taking notice as he silently passed by them.

The club noisily exited as members spilled out on the streets. The Princess, Nurse, Witch, and Belly Dancer chatted amiably; they had enjoyed each others company although none had met Mr. Right. Yet. A scream of racing engine and wildly dancing headlights approached from their right.

"Lorene." The voice was deep and commanding. She looked over her shoulder. Mr. Black was standing there. "Come to me." His arms opened and she stepped without hesitation into his embrace.

"You will always be safe now, my pet," he murmured to her. Wings blacker than the night unfolded from his shoulders and they slowly rose from the ground as a Nurse, Witch, and Dancer fell to the ground, sobbing over the broken body of the Princess lying under the flickering headlights of a drunken driver.

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TamLin01TamLin01over 9 years ago

I don't like saying it, but I didn't care for this one. It seems remarkably derivative, and these characters are pretty thin--as is the rest of the story. Let me show you what I mean:

[[Pagan? You're a witch or something?" Val asked incredulously.

Carla laughed. "No, I'm a pagan. No warts or green skin or riding around on a broomstick. Just simple earth magic."]]

Now how many Literotica Halloween stories have we read this exact same exchange in? Too many to count, I'd wager. I think most readers scarcely need this explained to them anymore. For that matter, Val here seems quite provincial for needing it spelled out for her. She works in a bondage club, are we seriously meant to believe this is the first pagan she's ever met? (Not that the two things are mutually exclusive, mind you, but even so, find me one BDSM club in America that has never had a witch in it and I'll eat my harness.) When someone says, "I need to make it to my coven?" who can't put two and two together on that? For that matter, aren't these women friends? Is this really the first time that Carla has ever mentioned this? And as long as I'm carping on things, why is this exchange here at all? These characters exit the story in a few paragraphs and the things we learn about them here ultimately contribute nothing to the tale.

[[He was a bit over 6 feet tall, dressed in a jet black suit which was molded to him like a second skin and showing off a lean muscular frame. His hair matched the suit's darkness. Piercing eyes in a drop-dead handsome face settled on the ladies and a smile cracked his lips.]]

Well of course he was. How else was he going to look? I'm fairly confident most readers could have guessed this description just from the title. And how many times have we all read someone's eyes described as "piercing"? What does that even mean? I don't think I've ever once met a real person with such eyes. I've seen eyes that are bright or dark, and eyes that are beautiful. I might, if I was feeling particularly self-indulgent, even say I have met someone whose eyes are intense, though I suspect that has more to do with their face than the actual eyes and in any event I'd probably hate myself for it in the morning. But never once have I seen eyes that pierce. And even if I had, I'd still be sick of reading it.

[["You will always be safe now, my pet," he murmured to her. Wings blacker than the night unfolded from his shoulders and they slowly rose from the ground as a Nurse, Witch, and Dancer fell to the ground, sobbing over the broken body of the Princess lying under the flickering headlights of a drunken driver.]]

A drunk driver, of course. I'd hazard 70 percent of all Literotica story fatalities happen in cars, and 70 percent of those are alcohol related. It's the go-to cruel twist of fate for the 21st century reader: random enough to seem appropriately senseless, but still with the necessary degree of human agency to seem oh-so extra tragic.

[[The man passed by them into the club. As he did, the computer gave a single bleep and records disappeared from the database. Carla sighed. "I'm so bored. I don't think we've had anyone through those doors in hours."]]

Ohhh-kay? Why did he bother having that little exchange at all, if he's so powerful that he could have just walked right by them? Why this elaborate pantomime of his name and the list and an ID and that cute little moment about her biopsy? What did he get out of that? Only the reader benefits from this, which makes it contrived--except, even we don't really get anything out of it, because what do we learn? That the Mysterious Stranger has some unearthly power? We knew that from the moment he showed up. And even if we somehow failed to clue in on that, we'd find out again in a minute.

This feels like the kind of story someone may write when they're simply bereft of ideas. Maybe that's presumptuous of me: Maybe this story was the result of a lot of hard work on the part of the writer and my saying that borders on cruelty. I have no way of knowing. I only know what the end product looks like, and in this case, it looks played out. Maybe others will enjoy it more than I did. Good luck in any case.

AnonymousAnonymousover 9 years ago
fooo

not the happy ending I was hoping for - ah well...

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