Lust for the Lavender Lady: spider and fly

“So she turns to the bartender and says ‘Can I get dinner to go with that violation?'” The crowd erupted into howls of laughter, their captor, Kal, was loud and imperious, and consequently rarely took the temperature of the crowds that surrounded him. Fortunately for him he was also charismatic, amusing and hansom enough that his amusing turned to downright riotous. He had cold eyes and a darkness lurked behind them, probably all of that sadism pooling after an evening of having gone unused… Not for much longer though, he’d found his next victim.

The soft skinned young lady wore a dress of a spectacular lavender, with accents that matched her perfectly maintained hair, fingernails were short, heels didn’t hinder her sway and her contact lenses really did a number on one’s mind. She sat to his right, legs spread across the bench, one draped across Kal and the other at his back. Did I mention the lavender dress? The short lavender dress?

Kal ignored her purposefully, knowing that she was far to accustomed to having idiots throwing themselves head first beneath her feet, every time she came near a puddle. Kal was no idiot, far from it. He saw himself as a winner, and judging by the look in her eyes and the way she was breathing him in, drinking in his scent and salivating at the chance she’d make to wolf him down: clearly she thought so too.

Kal’s hands were far too full with maintaining the ambience, keeping the liquor coming and the crowd enthralled to really look at her, because if he was he’d have picked up something he’d missed earlier. He’d noticed all the tattoos, the piercings and the body that beautifully complimented the art; he’d noticed the silver ring on her hand and the delicate inscription that ran all around it; but he missed the look in her eyes, the shadow that clouded that lavender, a shadow far darker than his own.

As the night progressed Kal found himself more and more engaged by the lavender woman, his mind not the driving force behind their interaction of course. Her scent would play within his space when she got up to walk to the bar, her fingers would brush his intentionally as she retrieved bill after bill from his hand to once again quench her thirst, her eyes would capture his as she tied knots in cherries with her tongue. She was slowly sucking him in, a vacuum so tight he couldn’t retreat; soon the crowd was secondary, then eventually dissipated entirely, Kal’s mind was occupied, he was consumed by one thing, one thought. And when she could feel his hand start sliding up her long, toned leg she leaned forward, fingers running up to his shoulders, then playing with his ear; she whispered “Come into my parlor Kal, let’s climb my winding stairs. Come visit the silk sheets of my oh so inviting bed…”

So Kal went into the Parlor: he the spider and her undoing his fly…

But Kal never woke, she was the black widow that caught his eye.



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