They seemed to be giving her trouble, because she faltered a bit as the
pair walked toward him. Her hands were covered by black latex gloves
and she carried an old-style feather duster. She truly looked the part,
right down to a pert little leather maids cap. Both were masked with
plain black dominoes.
As he drank in the incredible sight of the two ladies, the red-head
caught him looking and began walking toward the bar, staring him
directly in the eye the whole way. She hardly paused on the way, the
crowd parted around the pair like the Red Sea. Perhaps because of
their dress, women and men alike seemed in a hurry to get out of their
way. Jason watched her walk, mesmerized, as her legs wrestled with the
tight hobble skirt for room to breathe, the thick rubber forcing her to
take mincing steps on the precariously high heels.
It suddenly occured to Jason that the couple was probably lesbian, and
he was about to get the proverbial stuffing kicked out of him by
spike-heeled shoes. He glanced left and right, looking for an avenue
of escape. But by the time he made it to his feet, swaying slightly
from the booze, she stood before him, a stern-looking vision in rubber
and leather. She said nothing at first, looking him up and down, a
faint smile playing on her lips.
Trying to look nonchalant, Jason swung around and glanced about the
dance floor. It seemed he was not the only one who found them
attractive. Practically everyone’s eyes had been locked on the pair as
they threaded their way across the dance floor.
They were still receiving hotly critical stares from a few female
partners. Finally, the red-head in the hobble skirt spoke, smiling
taughtly.
“You must really like our costumes,” she said, “I could feel your stare
from across the room!”
Jason looked sheepish. “I’m sorry. It’s just that, well, they are a
little little unusual, even for Hallowe’en. I mean, you seem to be
comfortable wearing this sort of thing, even those heels, which umm,
by the way, don’t look easy to walk in…and you know, everyone else is
just renting their costumes for the evening. And…and they fit so
well, did you make them yourself?” he gushed. He paused for a breath.
“Sorry. Sorry, you ladies really look wonderful, I love what you’re
wearing…I guess I’m just… well, it isn’t every day a guy has two
gorgeous women dressed in rubber in front of him. Er, can I buy you
ladies a drink?”
“Why certainly,” she replied, “we’d love to have a drink, wouldn’t we,
dear?” She looked at her companion. The other woman, who Jason guessed
was a few years younger, said nothing. In fact her expression hadn’t
changed since they walked up. She seemed distracted, staring off
across the room. Jason turned to the bar and ordered another Macallan,
“and whatever the ladies are having.”
“And what makes you think I’m a lady?” she said coolly, eyeing him in
the bar mirror.
Oho, he thought to himself. “Despite your bizarre outfits, I’ve got to
assume you’re a nice girl from uptown until proven otherwise,” he said
wryly.
“I’m a woman, not a girl. You only get one warning.”
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean…sorry. By the way, my name’s Jason.”
“Enchente’, Jason. For this evening, I am ‘Mistress Mayhem’, and this
is my faithful sidekick, ‘Maid Marion’.
“Maid Marion! Aaugh!” he groaned at her pun as the drinks arrived.
…End of the part9. To be continued..