Aphrodite's Chosen Ch. 04

Kalisha Connors tossed in her bed, throwing off the red satin sheets. Something was missing. It was morning. Saturday morning. She could sleep in. A glance at the clock told her it was nearly noon. She had been dancing at the 360 Club until three in the morning, and then she and Wendy and Cindy had picked up a couple of guys for a ménage a cinque. She had gotten home just in time to beat dawn.

She sat up and stretched her long body. She rolled over, opened a drawer, and pulled out a loose t-shirt. That's not right. I should find something more befitting the chosen of the Goddess of Lust. Nothing is clean, though. I should go to the laundromat, or send Cindy.

That was what was missing. Each of the last five mornings Cindy had woken her up with an orgasm. It had been strange having Cindy around, because Kalisha didn't regard herself as the domineering type, but there were advantages to having a pretty blonde submissive around. One of them was getting her pussy licked every morning. Beat the hell out of the alarm clock.

She's probably still asleep. Kalisha reluctantly pulled on the t-shirt and went to get herself some breakfast.

The smell of fresh pancakes greeted her in the kitchen. Sure enough there was a pile of flapjacks on a plate on the white kitchen counter, along with a tall glass of orange juice. A note next to them read in flowing script: "Gone to do laundry." Kalisha sat down with her breakfast. The pancakes were still warm. She smiled and stretched. Her life had definitely gotten great since meeting the goddess of Lust. She smothered the pile of pancakes with maple syrup. Her mouth watered.

The fire alarm rang.

Her building was an older one, not far from downtown. There were three floors, with a shoe store at the bottom and two apartments on each floor above. Pressed close to the buildings on either side, a fire anywhere on the block would quickly spread from building to building.

Kalisha pushed the pancakes away, warding off their beckoning aroma with difficulty. She ran in bare feet out the front door, joining her neighbors in a dash down the stairway. Everyone else, however, was dressed. Standing outside on the street corner, cool wind whipping down the narrow street, she was keenly aware that her t-shirt only covered her ass if she held it down with both hands. From the stares of the passers-by and the furtive glances of the neighbors, she wondered if even that was enough. No doubt they had an eyeful when she had run down the stairwell, her thoughts only on escaping a possible fire.

It wasn't until the fire truck arrived that someone offered her a jacket to help cover her. In the end, it had been a false alarm; the "break glass in case of fire" glass was shattered, and the owner of the shoe store said he had seen a short man with dark hair and glasses running down the stairs just before just before the alarm went off.

Great. A prank. I wonder if he stuck around to enjoy the view?

Her pancakes were cold and the syrup congealed when she finally got back to the kitchen table. She ate a couple anyway, and then the phone rang.
After ten minutes on the phone with an old friend, the pancakes were colder and looking even less edible. She tossed the rest in the trash, and then threw away a few old magazines on top of the pancakes so Cindy wouldn't see them. Then she pulled on some jeans, just in case there was another false alarm.

Cindy returned a few minutes later. She wore yellow short-shorts, a tight pink t-shirt, and was obviously braless. Kalisha stared at the bouncing breasts.

"Thanks for the pancakes," Kalisha said. "They were yummy." It wasn't Cindy's fault that the pancakes were cold when she'd finally gotten to them.

"You're welcome," said Cindy cheerfully, giving her chest a little wiggle for Kalisha's benefit. She was pulling a large duffel bag, which she shoved against the wall, and then looked over at Kalisha. "I did laundry," she said, "Since you weren't up. I met a nice boy-- he kept staring at my breasts, but he had some stuff that's supposed to stop static-cling, and he shared."

"You missed the fire drill," said Kalisha. "I ended up going out with just a t-shirt on."

Cindy grinned. "I wish I'd been there"

"As if you don't get to see my ass enough," Kalisha retorted. "Besides, maybe I would have made you give me your shorts."

"Now I'm *really* sorry I missed it," Cindy said.

"Anyway... a friend of mine from college called -- Persephone -- and she invited me to go clubbing with her tonight at a place called Crypt. It's Goth, which isn't my scene, but I haven't seen Persephone for a while. You're welcome to come, too, if you like."

Cindy grinned. "I have black clothes. Sure." She paused. " Do you like my hair blonde?"

Kalisha blinked. "That's out of the blue. It's fine. But if you want to stop bleaching it, I can understand. Whatever you want."

"It's not that, exactly-- it's just that thinking of where we're going, I mean, the big hair white trash look isn't so in there, you know."

Kalisha shook her head. "If you think of your hair as a white trash look, then you should definitely change it. In fact, I order you to change it. I take it the hairstyle was your soon to be ex-husband's idea."

Cindy nodded. "Yeah."

"Then do something radical with it. I'll make sure he gets to see the new you, sometime soon."

Cindy laughed.

For two years, Steve Wilcox had kept Cindy as his personal sex slave, after blackmailing her into marrying him. Recently, Wilcox tried to blackmail Kalisha, too, but Kalisha turned the tables, convincing Wilcox that his pretty wife had decided to become Kalisha's slave instead. Kalisha thought of it as an act. Cindy seemed to want it to be more.

"Let's fold the laundry," said Kalisha. "The last time I went clubbing with Persephone, I wore a baggy black t-shirt and black jeans. She made me promise her I'd dress sexier this time. I think she's trying to fix me up. 'Dress to kill' she said."

"I think we can manage that," Cindy said, opening the laundry bag. She froze.

"Oh, no," she said. "I must have gotten someone else's laundry by mistake." She held up a child sized tank top.

"Let me see," said Kalisha, plucking a pair of tiny panties out of the bag.

Cindy blinked, taking out a pair of shrunken jeans. "My God. It *is* our stuff."

"Goddess," corrected Kalisha. "It's all shrunk."

Cindy's eyes widened. "The static cling!"

"Huh?"

"The guy in the laundromat," explained Cindy. "The stuff he gave me must have shrunk the clothes. Oh Kalisha, I'm so sorry."

"What a nasty trick! It's not your fault. Let's go see if he's still there."

They raced across the street, eliciting a few honking horns.

"He's not here," said Cindy.

"We'll ask if anyone else saw him, or borrowed his whatever it was," suggested Kalisha. "We can at least warn people. What did he look like?"

"Short guy, dark hair, glasses," said Cindy.

They made the rounds, but apparently no one else had talked to the guy. No one even remembered seeing him do any laundry.

"Figures," said Kalisha.

Cindy sighed. "I feel so stupid. You had some really nice stuff."

Kalisha smiled, "Don't beat yourself up. It could have happened to anyone. For now, though, I need to go clothes shopping, or I'll have nothing to wear for tonight. Thank goodness my business suits get dry cleaned, and I handwash my bras."

Cindy smiled. "Maybe you can pick up some clothes for your other job, while you're at it."

During the day, Kalisha worked as an accountant for the firm of Ferris, Johnson, and Thoms. At night, she was an exotic dancer at the 360 Club. She had been living a double life ever since she had broken up with her old boyfriend, John, and had her drunken binge interrupted by a woman who claimed to be the goddess of love. The goddess, who Kalisha usually thought of as Aphrodite, although she had given her other names-- Freyja, and Ishtar, for example -- was more a goddess of lust than of love, Kalisha suspected. But when Kalisha indulged in her sexual fantasies, the goddess got something out of it. In return, she had given Kalisha the ability to sense the lustful desires of those around her and enough energy to party all night even after working all day.

Kalisha smiled. "Good idea."

"I'll go to the hairdresser's while you go shopping, if that's okay," said Cindy. She paused. "Mistress?"

Kalisha still wasn't used to being addressed that way. "What?"

"While you're shopping, could you pick me up something for tonight, too? Whatever you pick, I'll wear it." Cindy pulled her wallet out, and handed over one of several credit cards. "All the clothes are on me."

Kalisha felt Cindy's desire grow as the thought of being Kalisha's dress-up toy went through her mind. Cindy was hoping Kalisha would push her to the edge of indecency. Even the act of giving Kalisha carte-blanche with her credit card was erotic to Cindy. "Be careful what you wish for," Kalisha warned. "I'll meet you back at the apartment for dinner."

***

Kalisha stepped into Night Pleasures, the erotic boutique, for the first time. Her old boyfriend, John, had made a point of crossing the street to avoid walking too close, as if even a look inside the windows would corrupt the Kalisha's innocent soul. Confronted by the barrage of dildoes, whips, ben-wa balls, and restraints, Kalisha blinked, skipped a breath, and looked the other way, only to see an expanse of lace, latex, and leather in improbable shapes and configurations.

Giving up on looking left and right, she took a couple steps straight ahead toward the sales counter, where nipple jewelry was the special du jour, advertised with pictures of topless women with silicone enhanced breasts. Behind the counter was a refreshingly normal looking woman, nearing middle age, with short hair almost as dark as Kalisha's midnight black locks.

"May I help you?" asked the woman.

"A friend told me to dress to kill, so I'm here."

"You're tall, nice figure," said the woman. "And I love your eyes. What you need is something in black."

"That should work, since I'm going to a goth club."

The woman smiled. "We'll definitely skip the pink, then. How do you feel about leather?"

"Vinyl would be better," said Kalisha. She didn't like the idea of wearing another animal's skin. As the woman turned to rifle through the dresses for something that might fit, Kalisha took a breath and composed herself. Why am I being skittish? That's the old me. This is a temple to lust, and I'm lust's priestess. This is my domain.

"Actually," she told the woman, who came back with something long and stretchy. It would be skin tight but show almost no skin, "I was looking for something more revealing. And something for my slavegirl, too-- she's a bit shorter than me. And what do you have in the way of collars?"

"Slavegirl, hmm?"

Over an hour later, with a pile of clothing on the counter, Kalisha pulled out her credit card. She had picked out way too much to charge Cindy with it all-- fetish wear was expensive, and the stuff in the laundry wasn't worth as much as the new clothes would cost.

"I'm sorry," said the saleslady. "This card's rejected." She frowned at Kalisha.

She thinks it's a stolen card, thought Kalisha. Not unreasonable, given how much stuff I've piled up. "I can prove I'm me," said Kalisha, frantically fishing out her driver's license.

The saleslady's expression softened. "Are you sure you didn't accidentally report the card stolen?"

Kalisha nodded, sighing. It just wasn't her day. "I think I'd remember. There must be some kind of mistake."

The saleslady shrugged. "Unless you have some other way of paying for this..."

Kalisha nodded. "Here's my friend's card," she said, giving the lady Cindy's.

"Quite a friend," said the saleslady, as she rang up the total. "Your slave?"

Kalisha nodded. The word didn't fit quite right, but it was fun to say, and she wasn't sure she had a better one. Life as Aphrodite's chosen was complicated.

***

Persephone was always late, so Kalisha resolved to be later. She wanted to make an entrance. She smiled to think of what Persephone would see when she saw her.
In four-inch heels, Kalisha was over six feet tall. A month ago, she could have barely walked in heels like that; now she could dance in them. Her heart-shaped face, exotic dark eyes, long straight midnight-black hair, and tan skin were her heritage from her Persian mother. She had been generous with the eyeliner, and painted her lips dark red. Cindy said she looked like Cleopatra.

She had settled on a corset of black vinyl with red stitching, that shaped the tops of her breasts into two perfect demi-globes that seemed to expand with each breath. The matching skirt hugged her ass and showed the tops of her stockings as well as an inch or two of the suspenders holding them up. Each vertical line added to the impression of a height: the stitching on the corset and down the sides of the skirt, the six black suspenders of her garter belt against tan skin, the seams of her silk stockings, and the spikes on her heels.

Cindy walked at her side, her hair cropped short and dyed dark purple, with lips painted to match, dressed in a black latex minidress that would have revealed the lines of any underwear she wore beneath if she wore any. Around her neck she wore a black latex collar with a dangling O-ring that could provide an attachment point for a leash. Cindy's face had lit up when Kalisha showed her the clothes, especially the collar. They entered the Crypt linked arm and arm, and all eyes turned.

The Crypt's raised dance floor was almost empty, but there were many small groups at the candle-lit tables. The music, to Kalisha's surprise, was soft and dreamy, what Enya might sound like if she composed music in cemeteries.

Kalisha scanned for Persephone, and spotted her. She was a tall, willowy girl, though not quite as tall as Kalisha, She wore a dress of burgundy brocade. She was sitting with a girl named Elaine, who Kalisha had met once before, and a couple of guys. Kalisha had the full attention of the men, and Persephone turned to see what they were staring at.

Kalisha walked toward her, and Cindy followed. She could feel the heat of Persephone's gaze. Funny, I didn't know Persephone was bi. Then again, I hadn't realized I was until I kissed the goddess.

Two steps away, Persephone's jaw dropped. "Kalisha? Oh my god!"

Kalisha grinned. "Took you long enough to recognize me."

Persephone leaped up and hugged her. "Hmm. You look scrumptious."

Kalisha didn't need a supernatural ability to sense lustful desires to figure out what Persephone was thinking - the hug had more wiggle in it than any hug they'd shared before. Sorry, Persephone. I have enough women in my life.

"You are so sexy," gushed Persephone, as Kalisha extracted herself. "I can't believe it! Yum!"

Kalisha laughed. "Down girl. Persephone, this is Cindy."

Cindy offered Persephone a hand. "Just call me Sin."

"Is it appropriate?" Persephone asked flirtatiously.

"Ask Kali," replied Cindy. Kalisha and Persephone sat down. They were one chair short, so Cindy stood. A small man in black brought an extra candle to their table, putting it in front of Kalisha, so that her face was lit from below. The candle smelled strange, but not bad.

Persephone raised an eyebrow, studying Kalisha for a moment. "I didn't know you swung that way," said Persephone.

"There's a lot you don't know," said Kalisha.

"You'll have to fill me in," said Persephone. "So, this is Elaine, me and her go way back. Elaine, meet Kalisha and Sin. This is Alex, Elaine's boyfriend. And this is Gareth, Alex's brother."

Alex smiled, and nodded. Gareth put out his hand, and Kalisha and Cindy shook it in turn. Cindy knelt next to Kalisha.

"The music is awfully quiet tonight," Kalisha remarked. "We don't have to shout or anything."

"It's a new thing, they play this stuff for fifteen minutes or so out of every hour, so people can talk, and then they blast it out for the rest." Persephone looked back and forth between Kalisha and Cindy. "You two are an item?"

Cindy jumped in before Kalisha could reply. "Kali's a free agent."

Great, now Persephone's going to be all over me. She knew Cindy meant well. But Persephone smiled, and Kalisha sensed that the original rush of desire had faded.

"So, you were saying, stuff happened and all? What's going on?"

"I don't think you'd believe me if I told you."

Persephone laughed. "I don't believe you're wearing a corset, so..."

"Well, after John and I broke up, I went out to get drunk, and I had a conversation with a woman in a bar. I decided I wanted my life to change." Kalisha decided to leave out the fact that the woman was a goddess.

"Change how?"

"For the sexier. I stopped into a strip club one day on my way home from work, and--" she paused. The two guys were strangers, and she didn't know Elaine that well, either.

Elaine stood and pulled on Alex's hand. "Come on, let's dance. You two have catching up to do." Alex let himself be dragged to the dance floor. Kalisha watched them for a moment. It looked like the two were comfortable with each other. Kalisha smiled.

Kalisha looked at Cindy and patted the chair. She knew that Cindy would rather stay on the floor, but it felt really awkward.

"So, tell me more," Persephone prompted as Cindy moved. Gareth sat there, listening with interest.

Kalisha shrugged, the movement accidentally nearly lifting her breasts completely out of the corset, and then decided to plunge on. "Anyway, I ended up on stage, so I've been ... dancing, some nights. I met a new friend, Wendy, who dances there. And then some jerk at work tried to blackmail me about it."

"You have changed! It's hard to imagine you stripping."

"Well, I have to change my clothes somehow," quipped Kalisha.

"I mean exotic dancing," said Persephone. "You're doing that? Really?"

"I, ah, ah, ah-choo. Um, yes," said Kalisha. Gareth handed her a handkerchief, and she smiled at him in thanks.

"I'll have to come see. Call me a doubting Thomas." Persephone winked. "Where's this strip club of yours?"

Kalisha told her.

"So how'd this blackmailing thing turn out?"

"Pretty well, actually-- that's how I met Cindy. Er, Sin. I'd quit the accounting job, I think, but I feel kind of an obligation to keep an eye on the jerk in case he decides to try something with someone else."

Persephone turned to Cindy. "I love your hair by the way-- but something gives me the feeling that purple isn't the color for accountants these days."

"Nope," said Cindy. "I'm not an accountant, at least not anymore. I'm the jerk's wife."

"Present tense?"

"Divorces take time," replied Cindy.

"Oh," said Persephone. The music started to blast.

"Care to dance?" asked Persephone, shouting. Kalisha blinked, and then realized Persephone was asking Cindy. Cindy looked over at Kalisha, eyebrows raised.

Kalisha nodded, her nose wrinkling. She felt like sneezing again, tried to hold it back, and failed. "Ah-choo!"

She watched them weave their way through the crowd to the dance floor, and then turned to look at Gareth. She was alone with him. He was tall -- how tall was hard to tell since he was sitting down. About thirty, and probably Alex's older brother. His hair was a sandy brown, and he had a moustache and a neatly trimmed beard. His eyes hinted at a smile even when his mouth didn't.

"Um, so," said Kalisha, her words swallowed by the Gothic-Industrial beat. Gareth smiled, and shrugged at her. Kalisha sneezed again.

Gareth said something, but Kalisha couldn't make it out. She shrugged. He watched the effect with frank interest. He was hoping her tits would pop out, Kalisha sensed. But he looked back to her eyes, and smiled. He took a felt-tip pen from his pocket.