Flash Fiction

By Lugh

Galga Grove

It was after midnight when she paused outside at the top of the stairs leading down to the new club, Galga Grove, and took a deep breath, which caused her breasts to pop out of the tight black leather corset she wore. She could hear the thrumming of the music. Side-stepping down the steep stair, she reached the bottom where the gaoler stood admiring the view as she descended. She produced her ID with a knowing wink from a hidden pocket in her black leather mini skirt. He passed her through without even looking at it. She sighed in relief as the door opened and she was through.

She surveyed the room, seeking him out. He mentioned he would be here tonight. The thought caused her palms to sweat and her heart to race. She grabbed the first drink the waiter offered, a fizzy blue thing in a test tube; smiling in relief at the familiarity of the apparatus, she downed it. She felt the heat of it spread through her veins, and discovered it was not dissimilar to her earlier incident with a frothing infusion; well, it was a little different. She laughed at the thought and spun about as well as she could on the impossibly high heels that forced her hips to sway as she walked. He was here; she could feel him.

It did not take long to find him - sitting alone at a small table along one side of the dance floor. She took a place at the bar and settled in to wait with a smile. It did not take long for the men to come a flocking. A few dances and a few drinks later he noticed her. She smiled and nodded at him. He came over like a well-trained pup to heel.

"So..." he began, giving her 'the look' from her toes to her breasts where he stopped and stared. "What's your sign?"

She giggled and leaned into him, so that 'they' were touching him, "Horny, what's your name, stud?"

He looked up and blinked. "Allen."

"So, Allen, are you going to take me someplace quiet or do I need to get one of these other 'gentlemen' to help me out?"

"Help you out?" Another blink.

"This corset is a bitch to breathe in," she said as she leaned in to give him a better view of the problem.

"Oh." His eyes went back to the corset, "OH! I guess we could go someplace..." he glanced at his watch and seemed a bit disappointed.

"Waiting on someone?" she prompted.

"No, not really." He took her arm and led her toward the door.

He lay back on the bed in his apartment... after their wild lovemaking and looked at her smiling. "Why did you pick me out of all the guys there?"

"Someone told me it was your birthday." She leaned down, kissed him again, and noticed the first tremor in her hand as their tongues danced. "But now it's not, so I should go."

"Do you have to?"

Another tremor raced through her, down one leg. "Yes, I do."

She pulled on her clothing, and picked up her shoes. "Maybe I'll see you again." She said with one last kiss as she slipped out the door. She had parked her car around the corner from Allen's, knowing he would probably take her home, and she ran there barefoot now. The tremors were coming quicker and getting more intense, soon she would not be able to walk from the pain. The sun visor was still up and the dark tinted windows provided some privacy as she entered the car's back seat to strip and pull on sweat pants. A handiwipe took care of most of the makeup and she lay down in the backseat to let nature take its course.

He woke to the sounds of the city at noon. His back was stiff from sleeping on the seatbelt, but otherwise he felt fine. He looked up in the rearview mirror to see if there was any lasting damage and could see none. The experiment had been a total success. He picked up his cell phone, and dialed the number from memory.

"Happy Birthday, Allen... Sorry about last night..."

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