LT 2.0 Flash Fiction Mini Series: Wonder

This week I will be posting flash fiction pieces I have written within the past year for a great writing collaborative that is now laid to rest. My dear friends over at JuiceBox Confession and Navigator, Equator birthed LT 2.0 and in appreciation for it, please enjoy.
This piece was from the prompt: WONDER. I struggled with it not wanting to write something expected. I hope you enjoy the incredibly loose connection to wonder that I conjured up in this fictional thriller.
She was a woman of distinction and a fine palate for the more refined things in life.  She liked her heels high, her drinks overpriced and her outings to be lavish. She was that woman from NYC who didn’t even see you when you walked by. Her brim was low and her shades were dark and why the fuck would she care about you?

You, you were an honest hard working, family loving, baseball obsessed, normal Norman.  You had just left the grocers.  A wife’s to do list on your smartphone. Milk, bread, eggs and tampons. Thank God that was on your list.  Three under 5 was plenty.  Hell, thats why you work so hard. You like your beer cold and cheap, your company with a bit of sleaze and your kids out of your hair.  Hey, you’re tired. We get it.

But on a dime She turned around as if to retrieve a forgotten necessity too important to buy another of.  You were flagging down a cab. She walked past you and you pointedly felt the intoxicating smell of her fill your pants. Fleeting moment. Fleeting thought. The cab hauls ass up to the curb you slid across the cracked leather seat with your wares in your lap.

“Take us to …..“ Said a crisp articulate hollow voice that trailed off at the end to a murmur.

There she was. In your cab. Take us? Looking around the cab it was easy to tell “us” was you and her.  The cab takes off in the direction dictated by the classy broad.

“What’s in your sack?”

“Milk….Bread…..T-t-tampons……”

“Oh! Splendid….I don’t think I have bread at home.” You start to get the feeling that she doesn’t care where you were going or why you have tampons or even who you are. She placed her feather like fingers over your high thigh and and with an unexpected strength she squeezed you and asked. “ You don’t mind if I have some of your bread with my supper, do you?”

Since words weren’t flowing freely and your brain was not making the connections as to why this beautiful creature was talking to you, you only shook your head no.

She made small talk with you and with the cab driver all the while gripping higher and higher on your thigh.  Her smells and whimsical motions making you more and more drunk on her.

The cab slowed down and you looked out the dirty window. Upper East Side……She brought you to her house no doubt.  She paid the cab driver and she reached across you, turning her swollen low cut dress into your face, to open the door.

She said something but the words come out muffled.

“Hahah! Darling….After you!” You obediently did as you were asked and she took the grocery bag from your hand, left it in the car, and took out the bread leaving behind the rest. She lead you into the very tall building and into the elevator. When the doors slid closed she didn’t say a word. She just looked at you. She smiled. You smiled. You knew what was about to happen.  A brief thought grazed your mind about your wife and kids and quickly your desires for the unknown took over.  The elevator opened and an older somewhat balding man in a nice shirt and a black apron greeted you and your glorious host that has left you speechless.

“Peter, how was your day?” Genuinely seeming to give a shit about her butler’s going ons she turns her attention from you to him.

“I’ve had a swell day.  I see you brought supper.” He smiled and gestured toward her hand. She gave him the loaf of light bread.

“Yes, something new, I thought, would be a nice treat for us….” White bread was ‘new’ for this lady…Wow…she had it good, you thought. “I’ll be taking our friend to the guest quarters to prepare him for dinner.”

“Very good. I shall prepare the kitchen to your liking.” She smiled sweetly and gently kissed Peter’s cheek in thanks and still with your hand in her’s she took you to the guest room.

She asked you to take off your clothes and lay them on the tiled floor. She went into the bathroom and started the shower.

“Come, love….I’d like you to be nice a clean…wash away the…day.  I’d like to watch to make sure you clean every part just right….If you don’t mind.” You don’t mind. Her smell…that scent…anything she’d ask you’d do. You stepped into the 9 spout shower room and she handed you a cloth with a sterile smelling soap.  She sat on a stool and instructed  you where to wash.  She wanted you to wash your legs 3 times. Her sweet honest darling face grinned and you knew she was dragging things out to make this come to an erotic perfect ending that was sure to be the best thing you’ve ever had.

She told you that you did a very good job.  You stepped out of the shower with all your clean massive glory standing before her.  She walked around you inspecting and smelling you. Her breath on your neck, the soft pillow of lips kissed your skin…almost as if to savor or taste you.

The door opened with no warning and you quickly cover your hard on and shouted “What the hell!?”

“Peter! You’ve startled our guest.”  She pouted her lips then turned to you and smiled. “No matter, it’s time for dinner and I’m starving. Are things ready for cooking?” Still beaming at you and your clean skin she ushered you to the kitchen. Again you are taken with her angelic presence, disregarding the manservant.

“Should I get dressed?” You found your tongue.. She seemed to have lost her’s since she doesn’t respond. Then it happened too fast.

She pressed you against the wall and kissed you deep and hard holding your arms out and firmly held her body to yours. Your eyes closed tight and you grind against her pressure. Her warm mouth and tiny figure wrapped up around you and you lose track of the world around you. She steps back and looks at you.  You have been restrained by Peter. Your wrists and ankles skillfully bound to the wall with leather belts. Suddenly her affect changed and she rinsed her mouth out with Listerine and spit it into the sink with a look of disgust.

“Very nicely done, my sweet.” Praising Peter’s work she walks to the counter picks up a power tool and hands it to Peter.  You scream and they giggle.

“Shall we have thigh tonight?”

“Yes, love, I was thinking we could use the bread and make sandwiches.”

“Yes my lady, Wonderbread….a fine choice to complement cheap meat.”

Peter tightly wrapped a tourniquet around your upper thigh. You’re screaming that you have a family and a job and a life. She’s not there anymore. It’s just you and Peter and the saw which is now in to your muscle. Taking your leg to the counter Peter feeds it into a deli meat slicer and sliced about a pound of leg.  Quickly he fried each piece on the Viking stovetop and seasoned the meat with a bit of this and a bit of that.

“Thank you for bringing the bread to supper. So generous of you.” After giving you thanks, Peter walks through the swinging door into the dining room where She smiled and waved to you. She shouted out to you through the still swinging door.

“See you later! I’m sure you are just devine! I’ll let you know!! Good night love!”

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