3.
The scene was loud music and glitzy surroundings
with the constant flow of drinks, and what else needed by the patrons. I was a
regular in the underground scene or to some of us, we called it deconstructed
music club. It was shelved in between a light industrial unit and the other was
the warehouse. The drive to the place was to past by the warehouses and then
into the narrow lane and parked your car by the sidewalks to the walk-in
between buildings to reach it. There was the direct route but you have to be
the VVIP to get access. I may be regular at these clubs but I don’t have the
red carpet laid out for me. I took my queue and then wait for my turn. Once I
step in, with the door closed behind me, darkness was in the short corridor
with a glow in the dark directional stars. There was another doorway and once
through it, you are in another world. It was like living in the Matrix World
but this one needs no plugging.
You are plugged on the first step.
The music will revert in your ears climbing
downwards from there to the navel of your body and then slitter down the thighs
to the toes. You will feel every beat that comes out of the loudspeakers and
the bass will gyrate your hips to move with it. Your arms will reach out to
pull it all in while you moved to the dancing crowd. There you will feel the
touch of flesh on yours and every nudges or bump will be the current that takes
you to the seat or the floor. I got my corner and my friends.
“Fuck, it’s the number One Bitch.” I smiled at the
greeting. We took the cue from the Wonderland where there were four witches but
with us, there are six so we called each other by the number. I was One for I
formed the idea. I was home there with my usual crowd of the most vicious lady
gang in the city; the berserker bitches. We are six in the number of members;
six mixes of drinks were our starter to clear the throat of the daily inducts
and we have sixes tattoo on our left butt cheek.
“Here’s your six, bitch.” I saw the drink that was
concocted for me. I knew that huge long glass contained six alcoholic mixes
from vodka, gin, scotch, whiskey, soda, and lemonade. It’s a nasty banger but
so were we. We don’t have our drags but the bitches knew how to make themselves
distinct. I was out of my working set into the dark leather suit zippered up
the front with the matching boots, matched with the short red jacket with the tuxedo
cut. I stood out like a dyke which I was. Who cares what they called me; dyke
or butch? I am happy with either. I got the bitches there for it was a
new club named the Ram, and I heard it was run by Nigel “Man’ Selby. I was
there for two reasons; one to identify the party-goers, well only the ones that
matter to me, and enjoy the scene. I cleared my drink and then took a cocktail
as a follow-up. Those drinks gave my ego a booster and into the clubbing mood.
Soon, I got my first feeler. I saw Ian Darren. He
was there talking to some other guys. I took out my miniature camera and
snapped the frames. I doubt he was off duty and he was not Vice. I then scanned
the others from the giggling girls to the clubbers. The later may have got in
with fake IDs or brought in by some sleek blokes. Don’t let the innocent look
fooled you. They are probably better at the fake expression and could clear
your wallet before you could reach orgasm. Everyone should know foreplay was
the prelude and it may not end up climatic.
Soon. I caught on another familiar faces.
My bitch was there. I do not check on her
regularly, and she has her own unit. On occasions, she stays at mine and I was
not back at the unit that evening. I have my other place where I changed into
my bitch ego and shared with the other bitches. The unit I sleep in was my
honey pot, and official place. I am a good girl; I go home to my sleeping bed
and it was there. I seldom bring my clubbing attire home. It was my training
when I stayed with my aunt. I do my changeover at the friend’s house and when I
go home, I was the clean convent girl.
My bitch was dressed like any clubbers; tight short
dress sleeveless and stockings with the stiletto. She carries a shoulder bag
slung to the rear. She was talking to another bitch dressed like her and held
another bag. I was curious for I never really noticed her bag until that
evening. I meant I took in the body but never the accessory. They were laughing
while watching the dancing crowd. I then leaned back on my seat and listened to
the bitches raved in their daily life. The other five are not into law
enforcement but two of them are lawyers and one was a businesswoman, the other
two were paramedics. Look, I did not pick their professions but all of us were
stressed bitches who need to let off steam at times.
I had to admit that the sight of my bitch occupied
my mind and I searched for her again but she was missing. So was the other
lady. Heck, I muttered to myself not to get upset. I don’t own the bitch and we
only fucked. Heck, I don’t even know her real name. I just called her bitch
like what she did to me. We are all bitches.
It was an hour later and more drinks spiked into my
body before I decided to call it the night. I took to the bathroom and saw the
Ladies were occupied. I was in the need and took to the Men’s. I walked in and
saw a guy having his peter given the milking by another. They saw me coming in
and I told them off.
“Get a cubicle, guys. Or a table. You could milk
below it. Just don’t leave a mess.” I paraded to the nearest cubicle and was
turned away, “Make a man stand to piss and he can’t get it right into the
hole.”
I turned around and went for the standing bowl. At
my height, I was above the minimum requirement. I unzipped my suit and then
lowered it over my shoulders. I leaned out and pissed. I caught the two guys
looking at me.
“Boys, I got about the same as yours but maybe mine
more rounded. Didn’t your mama tell you not to stare?” I have done my relief
and zippered up. I then proceeded to the washbasin to wash my hands; I learned
how to be clean since young. I raised my hands to wave at the two guys.
“Are you clean?” I was not expecting an answer but
the scream from outside was loud enough for me. I looked at the half-open
window at the wall. I took towards the doorway and then to the rear exit. I had
to fight my way through the ladies in the waiting line outside the Ladies and
then to the rear exit. It was manned by a burly guy and he refused me through.
‘The fuck you are.” I stepped on his left toe, and
the darn guy wore steel-capped shoes. He looked at me and smiled. It was my cue
to grab his balls and squeezed. He keeled over and I landed the right sole of
my boots into his left knee. He went down with my forceful push with my left
hand on the back of the head. The impact the wall was painful but I was not a
nurse. I cleared the exit and found myself in the alley. I turned to look at
the spot where the scream could have come from. I saw a lady being bound with
the rope. It was a guy and the alley covered mostly in darkness. My instinct
told me to call for help for I was not armed and more to it, I was not in
uniform. My bluntness told me to save the lady.
“I am a Police ….” It was then I felt the hard
knock on the back of my head and went down. I woke up on the main street with
my bitches attending to me.
“What the fuck happened to you, Bernice? We saw you
wrestle the bouncer and then dashed to the back.” One of the paramedics was
attending to me.
“How did you find me?” I was still in shock.
“Well, we helped him up and then found ourselves
kicked out of the club. We decided to check on you but it was a long walk
around the block. We found you on the ground with your head bleeding.”
“The girl…. The other girl…”
“What girl? There was only you and we carried you
out. I struggled up and was shooed off into the cab. I was sent home while one
of the bitches took my bike to the other home. I walked into my unit and saw it
was empty. I went to the bathroom and did a changeover. I dropped the clubbing
clothes into the laundry bag before I called the Station. I reported what I
saw.
And then slept the night after some medicine for my
headache.
My bitch did not turn up but the uniform did. They
came to my unit at five in the morning and the flashing lights irritated my
neighbors. Then I got the news.
“We found a boy near the location you reported.”
“Bitch!” I muttered.
“Pardon me, Ma’am.” I duly apologized to the
officer.
No comments:
Post a Comment