The Alley of No Return Ch. 08

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The glamour of the illicit is infectuous.
2.9k words
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Part 8 of the 22 part series

Updated 11/02/2022
Created 06/22/2007
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Chapter Eight: Liberty Leading the People

Jane Matthews lifted her thigh booted legs gently from the bucket seat of her sports car and stretched, carefully avoiding her head on the raised door, which let out a cloud of smoke into the cold air. Because she was driving, and because it was a reminder to Ruth Mears of the power of mink, she wore the Blackglama jacket; with offset huge lapel. A real couture piece.

The boots were Chanel; not high...flat. Difficult to see where the boots ended and hr tight leather jeans began. Slung around her waist was a black gaucho looking belt of couture origin Ruth was sure. But Jane looked stunning and the music she had played her in the car had made her tremble.

It was a Velvet Underground song; but Jane had told her to prepare for some Christian Death; so assumed that was the name of the band that did such a haunting cover. It was of course, "Venus in Furs".

Jane Matthews soul was deeper and darker than even she suspected, and as she pulled on tight leather gloves she was smiling at Ruth over the bonnet.

"How do you feel? " Jane said, sliding a pack of cigarettes across the bonnet to her, after lighting one for herself.

"I feel like this is me..." Ruth said, surveying herself from top to bottom.

The Versace dress clung to every curve but Ruth's perfect body could take it. Her boots were high; but well made. The metal piece in the sole supported the leg well and made them easy to walk in; unlike cheap stilettos. She spun on the spot in the shoes and exhaled 350 degrees from the cigarette she had lit for herself too. She had stuck with the blue fox, and it swirled around her. There was nothing more aesthetically pleasing to Jane Matthews than a woman who knew how to move a fox fur coat; and Ruth was learning fast.

"You are up on your hocks in those boots..." Jane smiled and sent a seductive stream of smoke across the bonnet of the roof of the red Lamborghini. Ruth stabbed the floor playfully with a smile, and took a drag on her own cigarette and exhaled through gritted teeth and nose snarled up in jest at Jane.

"you better be in heat yourself bitch..." Ruth said from nowhere with a wink, and Jane's mouth dropped open part in shock and part in pleasure.

"Come on" Jane said taking Ruth's arm; "I got a feeling we will make an impact today."

Jane looked up at the frosty sign as they walked beneath it. Yes this was the place, "The Lamb and Shepherd".

The country pub on the bank of the river she had arranged to meet Lydia and her footballist Ukranian wasn't busy, and Lydia was easy to spot as the mink and sable coat around her shoulders glimmered in the sunlight on the heated patio.

As Ruth's heels clicked on the slabs with intent, the pair turned the heads of all there. Maybe a dozen people stopped talking. Men grew helpless grins as wives elbowed them.

But it was the three student types that Jane had clocked. She had good hearing, and one scathing comment whispered was enough for Jane to know there could be trouble.

Jane purposefully avoided the stares, and greeted the now standing Lydia and Sergei Smilov with a "muhaz" to both cheeks of each.

"pleasant evening I trust?" Jane ventured with a knowing smile.

"Oh yes indeed thankyou Jane...and you two? My my Ruth Mears you look incredible."

Sonja Hutchence nearly choked on her white wine. The dreadlocked Animal Rights activist was also a fully paid up member of the Labour party and a student teacher. Ruth Mears? This wasn't Ruth Mears, the outspoken teachers Union rep? My God she was in REAL fur, and SMOKING! Richard Anderton , the student Union accountant was a good friend of Sonja's but there were three reasons he now grabbed Sonja's arm. Firstly, though he had been probably anti fur, and certainly disapproved of smoking, he didn't want to see Sonja get worked up; she could be hell. Secondly, he was a football fan and had already secured Sergei Smilov's autograph, and noticed the woman he was with was also in fur. Well it was zero degrees and still cold despite the blasting heaters. He didn't want fuss on that score either. Thirdly, his erection at the mere sight of Jane Matthews profoundly disagreed with any criticism that could be levelled against her.

"Sonja no...don't cause a fuss...please."

Sonja waved away the smoke that drifted from the animated gloved hand of the teacher in black, but it was the sight of the ostentatious blue fox on a woman who had once spoken out at a Union conference against foxhunting that came as the biggest shock to her.

She stood down and gritted her teeth; letting her glare...to which the objects of her attention were oblivious...say all she had to.

The third person on the table was Laura Deadorchid. Lead singer of the band of that name. She watched silently, missing nothing of the tension. The only woman she had ever seen remotely like this before was her own mother. On her lap she cradled the bass she played. She picked out the bass line of Venus in Furs, and Jane Matthews turned immediately and stared at her. Laura was pleased to get her attention, and admired her music knowledge.

"Old goths die hard..." she whispered so quietly no one heard her, as she lifted her own wedged black shiny bob fringe out of her eye, and smiled invitingly at Jane Matthews.

Nice 'emo' chick, Jane Matthews mused, and returned the smile.

This was now getting too much for the girl in the striped hippy jumper and grubby plimsoles, who seethed with contempt.

She glowered at Laura. "Stop it. She is fur scum," Sonja spook quietly across the table, slamming down her wine so that it splashed Laura's guitar.

Laura again wiped the fringe from her eye.

"You know; I think I would rather like a cigarette..." she said rising to her feet, the leather guitar strap slung low so that she held the thing like a weapon. "... oh and about that Animal Rights Organisation gig at the college? I think maybe it doesn't interest me; I don't want to play to a privileged elite; especially when you "unionists" did nothing about an artist's rights to smoke on stage. Stuff it up ya pc ass!"

Laura was raised in Canada; her mother was the best customer the local Metis Indian fur store had; and her best friend at school was a Cree girl whose father was a trapper. She had even eaten a beaver roast once; something she would have loved to tell the bitch that she had been entrusted by the rest of the band to secure the gig. Fuck it she thought. Some of us have a conscience.

In fact, the little fur jacket she wore that Sonja had assumed fake wasn't. It was her mother's from the late seventies; a dyed pink sheared rabbit. On stage Laura often wore a hairpipe native choker and a fox tail from her studded belt. Nobody had ever had a go at her. Funny; when fur looked like it was being worn by someone rich, then it became an issue she thought.

She tiptoed up to Jane Matthews and made an 'ahem' sound in her throat.

"Could I trouble you awfully for smoke?" she said sweetly.

"Of course you can dear" Lydia Keith spoke up pushing the cigarettes toward her. Ruth picked up the pack and pulled one half way from its home, and held it outstrtched. As Laura took one smiling, she gazed up, a little blush coming to her cheeks, and accepted the light from Jane.

"My you guys are attentive" she smiled, a little embarrassed as she exhaled toward her feet and immediately too another puff.

"You were playing Venus in Furs?" Jane asked, stroking her shoulder and confirming the little pink jacket was indeed rabbit.

"Sure." Laura replied "I just had about enough of that PETA chick; but we need the gigs ya know."

Anyways I love to smoke, and they were waving it away. May I join you guys?" Jane and Ruth still hadn't got a drink, and Lydia nudged Sergei who was still whispering sweet nothings into her ear and stroking her sable collar.

Sergei jumped to his feet

"I am so dreadfully sorry ladies. Forgive my manners. I order Moet to make up for it..." he said.

"Make it Krug" Jane Matthews grinned.

"You like champpagne young lady?" she asked.

"Sure do" Laura replied, and lifting her little hands from behind the security of her polished wood bass

"Pleased to meet you 'shinyshinylongbootsofleather'!" Laura smiled; extending her hand and Jane shook took it and squeezed, admiring the smoke rings she sent pumping downward. The girl wasn't elegant; but she had style. "Laura" she said and then extended her hand both to Lydia and Ruth, who returned their names and a smile.

"You are in a band?" Lydia Keith asked, lighting a cigarette herself, this time form the Russian's pack of Sobranie.

Laura's eyes lit up,

"wow a black cigarette" she said "now I got to get myself some of these."

" 'Sobranie Russian'... I am sure Segei will have a spare pack ..." Lydia mouthed as she sent a stream of smoke cascading up into the air and down across the table; obscuring her true age in soft focus against the winter sun.

"You're in the 'Deadorchids' aren't you?" Lydia spoke up. Jane looked stunned that Lydia knew. My son is going to see you play tonight".

"Cool" Laura said nodding impressed with the elegant older lady, and sat opposite her to talk.

"You fucked that up didn't you?" Richard told the tensed uptight figure of Sonja Hutchence. "Good and proper." He shook his head, and wished the object of his affections would ditch her issues.

Sonja didn't answer and continued to glare, tears welling in her eyes as she watched the Hardcore singer flirt with the women opposite.

Sonja rose to her feet and approached the group. She was seething so much she could not speak.

But her intentions to were frozen . Ruth smiled; she recognised the girl.

"Oh dear what is the matter dear?" she said faking concern, and wiped a tear from her face ablaze with anger.

"How could you wear...wear that revolting THING Ruth Mears?" she managed to force out. But that was it. She had no energy for any other criticism, and wavered, looking like she was about to pass out. She had had too much wine; excited at the prospect of securing the Dead4Orchids to play the PETA Union Society gig at the University. Now that lay in tatters, and she was dumbstruck.

Ruth Mears glanced over at Jane Matthews, who winked at her.

Jane raised an eyebrow as Laura DeadOrchid rose to her feet and rocketed a smoke ring at the girls face, as she took up a defiant stance with her legs akimbo in footless tights and pink leather kitten heels.

"Oh honey honey I'll have some of that", the Hells' Angel opposite who sat with a pint of cider he had not touched since the entry of the women onto the garden seated area.

"You wait yer turn hun" Laura said smiling, keeping the audience entertained with rapport as she was used to.

"Anyone else wanna smoke kick from the sweet lips of Laura Deadorchid?" she said, suddenly taking on her stage persona. "have a lil' ole ring o' liberty right atcha?"

The couples that filled the other places on the patio were non smokers. They fidgeted uncomfortably at the suggestion.

She sauntered over to the eighteen year old boy who sat with his parents nervously.

"How 'bout you honey? Wouldn't you just lurrrrvvvv a smokey kiss?"

"Don't you dare Martin" his mother said and glared at the thing that was trying to seduce her only son.

"Awwww....mummy's boy don't smoke huh?" Then she thought better of her wickedness." Say guys, I' m sorry....you know this is payback time for us with all these smoking bans 'n' stuff. I came here from Canada to get out of all that. Sorry." Laura apologised to the horrified parents , and she floated back over to the others, and watched as Ruth led the helpless and faint Sonja to the car park.

"Where are we going?" she sobbed.

"Hell in a red Lamorghini" Ruth Mears said seductively , exhaling close to the face of the girl whose dreadlocks trapped her exhale, and stung her tears as it drifted into her eyes. She didn't have the power to object or even raise her hand. In fact close up, the mix of Ruth's perfume and the smoke made a heady mix which slightly relaxed her. She wondered what was happening, as her hand enjoyed the feel of soft fur that caressed it as Ruth held it firm.

Jane Matthews watched her disciple take her first convert, lighting another cigarette and accepting the coup de champagne from Sergei.

"Hey man...come and join us huh? Sergei beckoned the boy who had earlier asked for his autograph.. he needed no encouragement, and joined them; even faltering for a moment at the offer of a sobranie.

"errr...no thanks..." he said nervously, "...I thought it was a cigar for a moment.

"You want cigar we got cigar" Sergei laughed and stuffed a romeo y julieta into the lad's top pocket and handed him a glass of champagne.

"Here is smoking club. Freedom club. We maybe need like orange flag like my country" he joked , slapping the boy on the back. Sergei Smilov cut a dash in the dinner suit he still wore from the night before, shirt open half way down. Lydia admired her conquest as he placed a cigar between his own teeth and lit it, then gestured the lighter animatedly at Richard. "Come come..smoke with us...it is social no?" Richard took the cigar from his top pocket but it was Jane Matthews who spun around to light it, the black spiky mink flapping for a split second against his face as he closed his hands on her leather gloves to accept, his erection stiffening.

"Wow..." he said "...thanks..." as he took exaggerated gulps of the smoke in the flame to look like he was used to this.

"My, my.... you do look cute with a cigar" Jane said seductively exhaling smoke down the front of her fur which drifted up and mingled with the pungent smoke from his cigar.

"Say guys..." Laura Deadorchid spoke up; "...you up for our gig tonight at the Black Horse in Oxford?" she asked. "Be nice to put you on the guest list and they have given us a secret smokin' changing room."

"Can we wear fur or will we get paint thrown on us?" Jane Matthews asked.

"Over my dead Canadian ass...hell I just wrote a song called "Wardrums" which is about native hunting rights in Saskatchewan....There is a big fuss right now 'cos the electric company want to flood their land for a hydro electric power station."

"I have a long black Canadian sheared beaver from there " Jane Matthews added quickly.

"you wanna lend it me for onstage? " Laura pleaded , knowing that any item of clothing Jane Matthews owned would be cool as fuck.

"I'd be honoured" Jane said smiling "if you teach me that smoke ring stuff in return; never could do it that well."

In the confines of the sound proof Lamborghini, Sonja Hutchence sat trembling. There was no escape once Ruth Mears had closed the erect door.

Ruth stared, smiling at the fearful girl.

"Don't tremble little rabbit" she said "fox won't hurt you ," she lied in gleeful evil as she inhaled on the cigarette and lunged for the frozen pathetic creature at her side, filling its mouth and lungs with thick smoke, and feeling her succumb to the softness of the furs that engulfed her.

"My mum will kill me....she is a doctor..." she whimpered as she saw smoke come from her mouth and she felt all warm inside, and she smiled at last, closing her eyes to take from the cancer stick that Ruth Mears gloved hand held to her lips.

Back at the pub, Martin Coombes looked up at his mother. "That is Laura from the Deadorchids mum" I want to go to see them tonight."

"You WILL not..." his mother said strongly "...that girl is a whore"

His father took his mother's hand.

"You used to smoke..." he said timidly but firm "...you used to be a free spirit with no morals. That is what attracted me to you. Let the boy go...she is a pop star, Martin is clearly attracted to her and she did apologise, so she isn't all bad. We can't go on treating people like this...they will bite back. What is more..." he grew in confidence "...I seem to remember you trying to get me to smoke when we were kids." Mrs Coombes was speechless; and blushed; but her husband was right of course; she saw in Laura Deadorchid something that had once been in her; and now felt a hypocrite. What she wouldn't have given for a cigarette at that moment.

Martin Coombes was already planning on buying his first ever pack of cigarettes and going to the gig anyway.

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smokingfetisher21smokingfetisher215 months ago

Hands down, one of the best stories I've ever read. Lamb & Flag... I live in Oxford ;)

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