Wrath in Juxtaposition Pt. 01

"These old things. You must have read these a hundred times already," I say with a light chuckle. The books are actually from the back room. Past the rows of uniform cardboard boxes atop folding tables, and in the wall of tee shirts I barely get the jokes on is a curtain with a sign that says 'Adults Only.' I hadn't even seen Jenny sneak back there, but the books in question are no surprise to me. The three comics are each from different decades and from different areas of the world. The common theme is bondage; leather, metal, and ropes.

"I couldn't buy them from your grandpa, that would have been too weird. Really though, this place is not attractive, you're behind a grocery store, and no one even knows the kinds of things you have here." Jenny's been a good influence since we met, a steady friend who will tell me exactly how she feels. She's also a wild card, I never know exactly what she's thinking. She's been odd today, odd for Jenny. She has a tendency to be shy, introverted. Today she is almost bubbly and greeting customers like she works here. I've already complimented her hair, which she has always worn down or in a loose ponytail. Today her straight black hair is woven into two tight braids pulled in the front on either side of her head. Somehow it seems to have made her green eyes seem brighter and her smile wider.

"So do you have any suggestions? I could strut around in my undies. That's pretty sexy." I've been a little sassy today, and my attempt at an obvious joke seems to be taken the wrong way. The whispers of the demon still creep freshly in my thoughts. Her face wrinkles up and she sighs dramatically at me while forcing her credit card into my hand. I start ringing up the sale, knowing she will demand full price. I don't even offer anything else.

"I'm serious Adrian, this place is still in the Nineties. It needs an overhaul. You need a website, social media, to reach out to people. Though honestly, you do need to hire help. A pretty girl would go a long way in keeping people interested and you can't be here all the time." I let the silence hang for a little bit, considering her words. What she says is true, all of that would probably help attract customers. Nearly all the couple dozen people who poked their heads in through the day were younger geeky guys, something I still identified as even though I'm the owner now. Is twenty-four too old to still be young? To her point, most have spent quite a bit of time staring at her while they were here. To be more specific, staring at her chest, which stretched the thick cotton of the blue tee shirt she wears, distorting the super S emblem on the front.

"Are you volunteering? You've gotten enough attention since you've been here. We could get you some cosplay and put you in the front window." The voice of the thing inside me has gotten lighter through the day, but it's been bugging me about her, playing with memories of her. Though attractive, Jenny is shy and doesn't trust the attention of guys anymore thanks to a long line of manipulative ex-boyfriends. The usual eye roll followed by ignoring the comment is replaced by a blush and glance at the window. I would have sworn her eyes changed colors for that brief instant, from green to foamy blue, but when she looks back her eyes are indeed the green I'm used to. My imagination gets the better of me again.

"You wish you could afford to get me to quit my job. This is my teenage hangout too, so I'm all for helping. I even might have sorta started a website. It's just an idea." Her words remind me of why we are so close, because we have so much in common. This wasn't just my grandpa's store. This place helped a special sort of awkward kid feel more normal and accepted. Where a couple of awkward teens bond over stories of heroism and overcoming adversity. She wants this place to succeed for the same reason I do. If anyone could run a website, it's Jenny. That's what her job mostly consists of as an IT tech for the large library downtown.

"Sounds like you're already trying to partner up. Sure I can't tempt you with an employee discount?" She sneers playfully while waving off the offer of her credit card back. I'd swear her eyes are blue again.

"Put it in my bag with the books. I'm going to go check out the new issues." Instead of doing as she asks I watch her walk away toward a young couple, the only people in the shop right now. It's not unusual to find a bored girlfriend pacing near a boyfriend. What's odd is when Jenny starts talking to them. She's odd in general today, happy and bubbly. I don't even remember the last person to make it past a third date with Jenny. Though as I watch the bounce in her step I'm more convinced. She might even be wearing makeup, now that I think about it. I really haven't paid much attention to anything today, with the missing section of the shelf reminding me of last night. I could replace it, but I don't want to yet.

Thoughts of last night wander through my mind, and my hand wanders to the pendant around my neck. The life from it is gone, and the dull material isn't really worth looking at again. If I could only remember the music. Everytime I think about the music all I can hear is a loud droning sound. Something like a crash in slow motion. While Jenny stands near the only customers in the store, chatting up the teen couple, I try again to remember the music. This time when I close my eyes, I start with the piano.

Something different happens; the music does start in my head, but the piano makes me want to laugh. The reason I don't laugh out loud is that one it starts I literally can't stop it. The theme from one of the Charlie Brown specials pulses through my head. The music is driving and borderline obnoxious and eventually I open my eyes. It worked. It actually worked. The crazy neon world is back, and brighter than ever. The music seems muted compared to the assault of light on my eyes. The laughter coming from Jenny's direction helps me to focus. Glaring lines of light dance off most of the shop, fighting my eyes.

After a few minutes of blinking until the glare no longer hurts, I turn my new sight toward the other people in the store. Light seems to pour from each of the individuals, each pulsating at different patterns and colors. I've never really seen other people directly with this sight, and it's almost like the physical features and the glow don't quite match up. It's less noticeable with the customers, as their glow reaches toward the other, their pulses dancing.

Jenny seems to be standing in a rich glow that solidly surrounds her, washing her out. The blue light matches her form almost exactly, except for two small bumps atop her head and a pair of dancing tendrils behind her. Trying to concentrate any harder brings back the loud crashing sound, and a headache. It's much easier to let go of the sight than it was to find it.

While coming back to myself I realize Jenny's books are still in my hands, and I couldn't even feel them while my mind was preoccupied with the other world. When I get up off of the stool, I find my legs tired and almost wobbly. How long have I been sitting here? Jenny's pack, the ever present oversized satchel that everything from a laptop to a change of clothes can usually be found in, rests against the back wall. As I try to slide the books in beside the laptop and am met with resistance. Reaching into the bag only confuses me, had she meant for me to find these? Certainly she hadn't forgotten about them being in her bag.

I don't even need to take them out of the bag. The glint of metal rings and the sparkle of green patent leather. It looks like the whole set is in here; a collar, a pair of wrist cuffs, and a pair of ankle cuffs. Under that is the rest of the travel bondage kit. For all I know Jenny has only fantasized about bondage, and even these look almost brand new. They also look extremely well made. I have never known her to spare any expense. Behind me, she tells the customers goodbye. As I watch her bounce back toward me, I decide to leave the bag on the front counter. The flap stays open, with my hand resting close enough to reach inside slowly.

"Hey best friend, I'm going to turn those two into regular customers," she says with a giant, un-Jenny like smile. The bounce in her step is quite literal, her chest bouncing in the tight blue cotton. I don't lie to myself. What happens next is the demon. Not the voice in my head trying to destroy me with whispers of my own self worth. No, this is the countless lives spinning around in my head, the memories of those before me. As Jenny comes within a few feet of me, the collar appears in my hand.

"I think you wanted me to find this. Have you been a bad girl, Jenny?" Slowly I hold the collar out to her, as if offering it. My voice stays even and firm as I ask. Blood fills her cheeks, but she doesn't even look down at the collar. Maybe she didn't expect me to be so bold, certainly yesterday I wouldn't have. Yesterday I'd have said there was no way Jenny would have set me up to find something sexually embarrassing toward her. She's certainly never shown any interest in nice guys, which is the category I tend to have fallen into my entire life. She holds my gaze with her eyes, as green as emeralds.

"Adrian, it was sort of a joke. I don't know what I thought you'd do. Don't be mad." She finally looks down at the collar in my grip, but makes no move to take it from me. Before she can shrink away from me, I let her know exactly how I feel.

"I'm not mad. I'm serious. Turn around. Let me put this on you. I will use everything in that bag on you before we leave here. If you're still not satisfied, I'll wear your ass out the rest of the night." The blush in her cheeks intensifies, and her eyes go away from the collar. After a bit of thought accompanied by chewing on her bottom lip her eyes slowly come back up to meet mine.

"Adrian. I don't think we should," I stop her there, cutting her off.

"Sir. You'll call me Sir if you want this." Standing up from the stool, I take a single step toward her, showing my intent is real. The sudden change in how I've always treated her surprises her, and her eyes open wide in shock. Slowly over the next few heartbeats the blush deepens across her cheek. She stands there for a long moment, eyes measuring me. It takes everything I have to just stand there silently and be measured by her gaze.

"Yes sir," she finally says and slowly turns to face away from me. Remnants of my vision dance around Jenny, like a blue mist. The bumps in her head are now clear ghostly ears, pointed and transparent. The ears glow slightly as well as two tendrils of energy emanating from just above her ass. The energy swirls through me as I step close enough to wrap the collar around her neck, a shiver runs through her as the cool leather first comes in contact with her skin. As the clasp closes, her hand raises as if to touch the collar, but quickly drops back to her side. The wrist cuffs accompany me.

"There's about two hours left until I close the door. I'm going to tease you, tempt you, display you. Lose the bra, but not the shirt." As I speak, I circle around her. It's surreal, the way past lives that I know aren't my own can influence me. I know to be firm and cool, present yet distant. Jenny stands there a moment processing my words as I give her a thorough looking over.

"Yes, Sir." Jenny's never been my type. I tend to chase personalities like Luisa's, for obvious reasons. As Jenny chews her lip while reaching behind herself and under her shirt to unclasp her bra, many memories rush to me. The past appreciates her in ways I never did. Besides the submissive purity on display before, Jenny is pretty and funny. After slipping the straps out of her sleeves long enough to remove her arms, she reaches under her shirt and throws the bra to the side. Behind her again, I grab the wrist cuffs from her bag.

"Good girl. What's your safe word?" I ask her. While she appears to consider the question she watches me clasp her left wrist in padded leather. Jenny's breasts are massive, and being out of the bra and squeezed flatter by the cotton tee, they look even larger than before.

"Purple pie. Push me, though. I want this." The words and tone make me look up to her face. She looks like a completely new person for a moment. Magnified by her glasses, her eyes are definitely blue, light with a swirl of gray. The smirk on her face is not something I've ever seen on Jenny. The information gets filed away for later.

"Any special requests?" I find experience in the memories. There are alot of memories of these kinds of situations now. Most are not anything I want for here and now, but as I clasp the cuff around her other wrist I come back to living in the present believing I've enough to fulfill her. She takes off her glasses and turns to face me. I know just how vulnerable she is without them.

"I'm not on the pill. There's a condom if you want in the front of my bag." Jenny's features are soft again, and her eyes green. I tell myself it's all in my head, that it's the lighting. I don't convince myself. She slips her glasses into my hand, and then waits. It's funny. I hadn't considered fucking her at all and now she gives me permission to. There is even the lingering thought that I might choose not to.

Instead of answering I grab one thing besides the rubber from the inside of her bag. Buried under everything is a length of blue nylon rope, about six foot long that I drag out like a snake. Jenny's eyes stay glued to the length of rope, following each of its smallest movements. She stays mesmerized until I slip a finger in the hoop on her collar and gently tug on it. We cross to the middle of the store in silence and I stop dead center in front of the doors between two large display cases and near a column that splits the store in half. From here she is sort of hidden, but only because I am currently between Jenny and the main entrance. Once I'm gone she will be on full display for anyone coming through our door.

As I quickly make a loop and pull the rope through the rings on her wrist cuffs and back through the loop, Jenny actually smiles at me. I didn't expect that, but maybe she's been waiting for someone to take the lead for a long time. Near the top column is a brace I hope will hold up, and the rope quickly loops back over it. I'm not gentle as I pull her arms high, tight above her head. It gets tied off enough to stretch Jenny out, but not quite force her onto her tiptoes. With her back flat on the column and hands over her head, her chest manages to look even larger and perkier than I've ever seen it.

My hands linger on her unprotected chest, mauling and manhandling with no real point through her shirt and making her moan and bite her lip. I don't stay too long, trying to finish while the shop is still open. She's wearing pajama bottoms, not unusual for her, matching in blue and super symbols. The elastic quickly falls prey to my thumbs and with an exaggerated motion I slide them down her legs. Jenny's pale flesh is soft and smooth. She wears boyshorts, a soft pastel green, and the dampness is already a small dot between her thighs. The tight panties can't hide that her pussy is clean shaven as well. For some reason, Jenny planned this seduction, after years of giving no sign of attraction. I have to stretch the pant bottoms over her tennis shoes and pull her socks up taught over her ankles.

"You've been a bad girl," I say after standing back and admiring the view. With her arms stretched over her head, from Jenny's belly button on down is fully in view. She's thick bodied appreciatively, soft and squeezable. The shirt rides awkwardly in places but is stretched tight against her chest, her nipples hardening visibly under the cotton.

"Yes sir," she replies. Her smile is playful, where I would have expected to be more nervous. Her eyes seem to focus on me even though I'm fairly sure she can't see me very clearly, even though her eyes are a swirling blue again. Instead of responding, I move.

The shock is in her eyes, the sudden gasp, and stiffness of her body's reaction as my fingers close around her neck. Firmly, but not so much to cut off the air, I squeeze and turn her face up to look full into my eyes. Once I have her attention, my other hand goes between her legs. As I massage her between her legs, her eyes betray every emotion. With my middle and ring finger I rub her through her panties, my fingers pressed together and rubbing across her covered clit and down the length of her lips. It's unfair how other people's lives and memories make me understand what she wants; what she needs.

As soon as she can't take it any more and closes her eyes I switch games, toying with Jenny's body. First I drive harder with my fingers, the pressure on her clit harsh and my fingertips pushing the material between her lips. Then without any warning I go back to lightly stroking her, but along with this I squeeze with my other hand cutting off her air. It only lasts a few seconds the first time before I switch back, but she still gasps as she regains her breath. Except my fingers below get aggressive again. I go back and forth, taking her air a second longer each time before assaulting her pussy again. Finally on the fifth time with her air cut off, her eyes roll back into her head and tremors start to rock her legs. I let her throat go completely and swing that hand under her ass, supporting her as her body is rocked by a long intense orgasm.

"Good girl," I whisper into her ear as my fingers tease her through her spasms, pushing her. The moans are deep and savage that escape Jenny's mouth, and she even snarls with her teeth bared for a second. As her body calms down her limbs seem almost limp. Slowly I stop supporting her and step away. Now she hangs fully from her arms, dead weight with her head dropping forward. Still gasping to regain her breath and with her panties soaked, I want to fuck my best friend more than anything. I check my watch. Still just over an hour until my official closing time.

"You look amazing." She lifts her head enough to make eye contact, exhaustion all over her face. The smirk I receive is purely sassy Jenny to go with the green eyes.

"Fuck off," the smile that follows is satisfied and the aggression is broken for a moment. I feel the warmth of giving someone something they wanted; that they needed. Instead of replying immediately, I step aside. Sure there was no one outside of the glass watching, but now the exposure is real. I'm not sure what emotions I see pass through Jenny's face in the next moment. She does eventually gather herself and stand tall again, taking the weight off her shoulders and wrists, ready for whatever might come next. The look she gives me now is a dare.

I'm not sure where to take things as I look at her. I need to fuck my best friend, but without the rage inside of me swirling I have a sudden qualm about our first time not being more intimate and personal. The memories inside of my head fight me, look at her they say. The need in her eyes is real and the way she bites her lip is frustration. Don't hesitate, take what is yours. God she is sexy hanging there helpless, and being helpless planned and willingly is a whole other level of attraction to this new side of me. The eyes that stare at me in need are definitely green now, as green as I could possibly imagine. Suddenly the bell above the door rings.

"Oh I'm sorry, I thought you were open." Jenny and I both look toward the interruption, even though Jenny, without her glasses, probably can't see very well. Our visitor is a petite redhead, just around five foot and barely over a hundred pounds if I had to guess. It is tempting to assume she is young due to her frame, but her eyes show deep creases in the corners and the look she gives us shows little surprise besides her words. Those eyes are otherworldly. Buried behind the angular features and in the fair freckled skin are the most golden colored eyes I've ever seen. They have to be a shade of brown and in this odd light have a peculiar glow, but they seem ethereal.