The Deviant Underground (Time Bandit) (27 page)

“Can I kiss you?” She then pulled her hand back. “I'm sorry. Forget I asked. I just promised I wouldn't do that.”

“No, it's okay.” Kathryn thought back to the kiss they had shared in the back seat. That was nice. “Just no tricks. No more tricks. A kiss is okay, but just a kiss.”

Susan smiled, inched a bit closer, and pressed her soft lips against Kathryn's. They began kissing slowly at first. Susan parted Kathryn's lips with her tongue, and the kiss grew more aggressive. Susan then closed the gap between the two of them and slid her naked body up against Kathryn's.

“Whoa, hold on.” Kathryn pulled back, a bit shocked at feeling a body so similar to her own.

“What?” Susan blinked innocently. “You don't want to? Charge won't be mad, and there'll be no tricks. I promise.”

“I know, it's just . . .” Kathryn exhaled. “I don't know, Susan. I've never done this before, and it just feels . . . different.”

“Are you not attracted to me?” Susan's open face seemed eager to hear the answer.

“Oh, no, that's not it at all.” Kathryn reassured her. “I think that you are beautiful. I've just . . . never done this before, so I don't know . . .”

“Oh, don't worry about that.” Susan moved in closer. “Let me do all the work. You just lay back and enjoy it.”

Kathryn exhaled sharply. “Okay,” she whispered.

Susan grinned slowly and resumed kissing her gently. Kathryn met her warm kisses and stroked her soft hair. Susan pressed her body up against Kathryn, and Kathryn was shocked to find herself aroused by the feeling of Susan's ample breasts brushing across her skin. Susan climbed on top of her and kissed her more forcefully. She let her hands roam all over Kathryn's body, gently cupping Kathryn's small breasts. Kathryn squirmed with pleasure as Susan's mouth followed her hands, licking and gently biting Kathryn's nipples. Kathryn groaned at the sensation, the previous pounding in her head now completely gone and replaced by sexual desire. She was surprised that Susan could so quickly stimulate her, and when Susan slipped her fingers inside of her, it took Kathryn's breath away. Susan began stroking her gently, finding an internal spot that felt so good that Kathryn's eyes rolled back into her head. When Susan's mouth joined her fingers, Kathryn squealed with delight and then grunted as a powerful orgasm took her by surprise. Her body convulsed uncontrollably as Susan continued to stroke and lick her. After a few minutes of continuous waves of pleasure, she couldn’t take the sensation anymore and begged for Susan to stop.

“Enough,” she said through gritted teeth. “Enough!” She weakly tried to push Susan away.

“Okay, okay.” Susan giggled as she released her hold on Kathryn, who continued to feel residual shockwaves coursing through her body.

Kathryn threw her forearm over her eyes and lay panting for a few minutes. Her entire body was on fire. As she fought to gain control of her breathing, Susan reached over and touched her on the arm.

“Are you okay?”

“Don't touch me!' Kathryn half yelled, half laughed. “Don't you touch me.”

“Okay.” Kathryn heard bemusement in Susan's voice. She was still unable to open her eyes. After a few more minutes, she felt more in control of herself. She lowered her forearm and looked askance at Susan.

“What the hell did you do to me?”

“What? Nothing.”

“Don't 'What? Nothing' me. I'm serious. What did you do to me?”

“Nothing.” Susan shrugged casually, but Kathryn could see the glee in her eyes. “Was it good?”

“Was it good?” Kathryn snorted. “It was unbelievable. I don't think I've ever come so hard so quickly in my life.” She frowned. “Seriously. How did you do that?”

Susan shrugged again. “A woman knows what a woman likes.”

“Shit. I guess so.” Kathryn chuckled. “I guess I never knew what I was missing all these years.”

“I guess not.”

Kathryn looked at Susan's body. It was the first time that she had seen her completely naked. Her full breasts and pink nipples were arousing to Kathryn. She longed to touch them and to slip her fingers into warm and wet places as Susan had done to her. Susan raised an eyebrow. “What are you thinking?”

Kathryn slowly moved closer to her. “I am thinking,” she kissed Susan lightly on the lips and then kissed her way down her soft body as she continued her sentence, “that I want to return the favor.” Susan sighed as Kathryn licked her nipple, and she found herself pleased at Susan's response. With her hands, she played with Susan's breasts, making sure her nipples were firm and hard before continuing her progress down Susan's body. At her waist, Kathryn stopped for a moment, admiring a tattoo that Susan had at her hip bone. It was of an old-fashion hand mirror with an ornate handle. The intricate design begun in the handle traveled up and became the rim of the mirror itself. It was beautiful. She kissed it, and Susan's body shuddered in response.

Susan's coarse, dark blonde hairs were inviting to Kathryn, and she began by slowly simulating her with her tongue. Susan gasped, which inspired Kathryn to be more aggressive. She slipped her fingers inside of her as she continued to lick her. Susan gasped as Kathryn moved faster and faster. Suddenly, Susan grunted with her own orgasm, but Kathryn didn’t let up, wanting Susan to feel as much pleasure as she had. Finally, Susan hissed, “Stop.”

Kathryn kept going. “Are you sure?”

Susan seemed to nod, but through the convulsions, it was difficult for Kathryn to tell. “Stop!” she said more forcefully.

Kathryn grinned and climbed back up to the top of the bed. Susan had her eyes closed, and Kathryn watched as her breathing slowed down. “Good?” Susan's nod was more evident this time.

“Are you sure you have never done this before?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“Yep. But what did you say? A woman knows what a woman wants?” Susan laughed weakly. Kathryn needed a cigarette. She got out of the bed, felt around in her clothes, and found them in her pants pocket. She got back into bed, propped herself up with a pillow, lit one, and took a deep drag. Susan held out her hand.

“Give me one.” Kathryn popped one out of the box for her. Susan also sat up, lit it, and inhaled. Kathryn watched as the smoke swirled around the room, dancing in the sunshine. She no longer felt it necessary to cover herself, and she stretched out her long legs and sighed. Susan glanced at her and smiled. They both enjoyed smoking in silence.

Kathryn was the first one to speak. “I like your tattoo.”

“Yeah?” Susan looked around for the ashtray. Kathryn handed it to her.

“Yeah. What does it mean?”

Susan smiled. “It means me.”

Kathryn felt a twinge of sadness at hearing this familiar phrase.
Hadn't Charge said that to me when I asked him about his?
Kathryn pushed the emotion to the side.
He'll be home soon
, she reassured herself. For now, she was going to enjoy Susan's company. “Tell me more.”

“Well.” Susan exhaled her final drag and then crushed out her cigarette. Kathryn put the ashtray back on the night stand. “It's my grandmother's mirror. She had one just like this. It was the nicest thing she owned, I think. She kept it on her vanity. When I was a kid, I remember seeing it lying there, surrounded by old makeup cases, hairbrushes, boxes of scented powder, bobby pins, and pill bottles.” Susan paused. “Lots and lots of pill bottles.” She sighed before continuing. “She had cancer, and she used to take all these medications. I remember that her bedroom always smelled funny, like old perfume, sour milk, and illness. She liked to sit at her vanity. She would sit there in her nightgown with her thin robe barely covering her, looking at the pictures she had tucked into the corners of the big mirror.” Susan leaned back on the pillow, lost in the memory. “She would call me over, and I would lean against her. I remember her feeling so frail. So boney and fragile. She would pull down the pictures sometimes and show me. 'This is your Uncle Harry,' she would say. Or, 'Here's your mom when she was a little girl like you.' And she would always pick up that hand mirror. It was made of silver. Pure silver. There were all these designs carved into it. All up around the mirror itself, not just the handle. She would let me hold it.” Susan squinted a bit, as though she were seeing something. “It was so heavy. And grandma would always say, 'Look at how beautiful you are.' She would stroke my hair with her thin hand. 'Don't let anyone tell you that you're not.'“ Susan grew silent again. Kathryn watched her relive the memory.

Susan then turned to her. “When she died, that was the only thing of hers that I wanted. That mirror. I begged my mother to give it to me. But she didn't.” Susan's eyes grew dark. “She sold it to pay the rent because my father drank up all the rent money.” She paused. Kathryn could see Susan's anger brewing. “When I got older and realized what I could do, I thought about that mirror. Appearances are just that—appearances. You can never been sure that what you’re seeing is actually real.” She looked down and her tattoo and touched it gently. “So I put it here, so that I'll never forget that, and so I'll always remember I can make people see whatever I want them to see.”

Kathryn watched Susan stroke her tattoo. It was beautiful, and it fit her perfectly. “When did you know? What you could do?”

Susan continued to look at her tattoo as she answered her. “I was about seven. I will always remember that day. My father had come home drunk again. I could hear him arguing with my mother downstairs, beating the shit out of her. I was in my room playing. After a while, it grew real quiet down there. I figured he had stormed out again. I went back to playing, relieved that he had left. Suddenly, the door to my room swung open. My father stood there, swaying, unable to stand up straight, clutching the door handle. His eyes had that vacant, mean look he had whenever he had too much to drink. He stared right at me, and started to come towards me, his fists clenched, and I knew that I was next. It was at that moment . . .” Susan paused and looked across the room as though the scene were unfolding. “It was at that moment that I wished, more than anything in the world, that he couldn't see me. 'Make me invisible,' I remember whispering. 'Don't see me.' And just like that, he stopped dead in his tracks. The look that came over his face,” Susan shook her head. “I can't describe it. It was shock. Shock and confusion being filtered through all that booze and anger. He stood there in the middle of my room swaying, looking confused. He even called my name a few times. I just kept saying to myself 'Invisible. Invisible. Invisible.' over and over again. He looked around my room a few more times cussing under his breath before stumbling out.”

Susan's face lit up as she turned to look at Kathryn. “And that was it. It was like magic. I started practicing it, playing with it, all the time after that. I'd make my friends see stuff that wasn't there. I'd get my sister in trouble by blocking stuff that she was looking for—even if it was right in front of her face. But the best thing . . .” She paused, her voice dropping down to a whisper. “The best thing was that I used it to protect my mom.”

“How so?”

“Couple of different ways. Sometimes, my dad would be looking to get drunk, and he'd open the fridge looking for his beer. The refrigerator would be full of cans of that nasty cheap shit he liked to drink, but I'd make him think that it was empty. So then he'd had to go down to this seedy bar and do his drinking there. He'd still come home later and beat the shit out of all of us, but at least we'd have a little peace for a while. Occasionally, he'd come home real late, and my mom would be up waiting for him on the couch. If she were asleep, I could make her invisible to him. And then he'd just stumble up to their bedroom and pass out. I had to be careful because what I could do was really limited back then. I could only control one person at a time, not a room full of people. And I could only impact what a person saw, not what they heard, so if my dad came home and my mom was awake, I couldn't make her invisible to him because she'd start talking and he'd hear her. But I did what I could for as long as I could . . .” Her voice petered out.

“What eventually happened?”

At first, Susan didn't respond. She seemed far away, lost in thought. After a few moments, she continued. “I was 16. My sister and I were coming home from school. She was 18 and usually skipped school because she was getting ready to graduate and didn't give a fuck, but for some reason, she went that day and walked home with me. Anyway, we walked in the front door, and my father and mother were in the living room arguing.” Susan shook her head slightly. “No. Not arguing. My mother couldn't say shit because my father was choking her. He had his hands wrapped around his neck, and I could see my mother's face turning purple. She was facing us when we came in the front door, and all I could see was her purple face and her eyes. Her eyes were dead. She knew she was dead. He was killing her in the living room, and we were watching.” Susan stopped, the horror of the moment on her face. Kathryn said nothing and simply waited for her to continue. Susan's eyes narrowed. “At that moment, I knew I had to help her, so I made him see the most horrible thing I could think of. A flaming head with snakes instead of hair, and with insects and maggots coming from the eyes, nose, mouth, and ears. Pouring all over him. Going up his sleeves, down his pants, and into his mouth and nose. He screamed, letting go of my mom and started slapping at the insects, trying to tear them off his body. He danced around and threw himself into the walls, all while yelling, 'Get them off! Get them off of me!'“ A dark smile briefly touched the corners of Susan's mouth and then disappeared. “I was so into the illusion that I didn't realize that my sister was also yelling, but she was yelling at me to stop. I'm watching my father freak the fuck out one minute, and the next I'm falling to the floor because my sister hit me in the head with the telephone.” She laughed bitterly. “I remember that I knew it was the phone that hit me because it made a ringing noise when it struck the side of my head, just like someone had called for a second and then hung up.” She paused again. “Anyway, being hit in the head made me lose control of the illusion. I don't remember everything that was said after that because my head was ringing like that damn phone, but I do remember my sister yelling, 'She did it! She did it! She's a deviant! I knew it!' My dad was looking at me crazy, and my mother looked terrified. I tried to talk to them. I don't even know what I wanted to say, but everyone was screaming and talking over each other. My sister ran to the phone—she had to put the phone back on the hook to make a call. I do remember that. Anyway, she called the cops, and I remember her saying something about 'Get over here' and 'an undocumented deviant.'“