Daydreams (Be careful what you wish for)
folder
Fantasy & Science Fiction › General
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
11
Views:
3,854
Reviews:
6
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Fantasy & Science Fiction › General
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
11
Views:
3,854
Reviews:
6
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Three
Kiera, grinned up at her friend, closed a few windows on her desktop, and opened one with the same ad from the paper. “Funny, in about twenty minutes, I was going to tell you the same thing.. Though I think I’ll hold you to treating me, anyway. I’ll get the next show,” she said as Lisa walked out of the room shaking her head. Kiera stretched, sighed, and typed in some notes on her paper so as not to lose her train of thought completely. She turned off her computer and stood up, only just realizing that it was almost dark outside.
“Kiera.” Lisa poked her head back in the room. “Dress cute. We’re going hunting tonight.”
Kiera grumbled something half-heartedly about swearing off guys for a few months.
“Oh, please. It’s been three weeks already. You’ve beaten your previous record already. Besides,” Lisa continued, walking over to Kiera’s closet, “you need it. If you don’t at least toy with some poor, hapless guy for a little while, you’ll start seeking girls to hang out with. I think we both remember the bloodshed that that leads to.” She pulled a top and a skirt off their hangers. “Suit up. Your boots too.”
The outfit in question was a short black skirt with a dark grey panel that was topped with fishnet material and a top that was made to look like a corset. It was a pale, satiny silver that zipped up in the back with black lace sewn in vertical stripes over two of the metal spines and black ‘ties’ for decoration. And, of course, the boots. They came to just below her knee, zipper on the inside, and were black leather.
She’d seen them in the store. Stared at them. Even out of context, on a shelf in a store, the boots simply dripped attitude and things of a darker nature. Upon inquiry, the clerk had told her that since they were an unpopular style, they were no longer being carried. In fact there was only one pair left. What size? Eight and a half. Her size. And at sixty percent markdown, she gave in to the temptation. Kiera had mustered the attitude and courage only once to wear them, and an outfit that suited the occasion, outside of her apartment. She and Lisa had gone out to some club or another, and had a blast.
She grinned, remembering that particular night. Zipping up her boot, she walked into the bathroom and rummaged through the mess that was her makeup drawer, pulling out some black eyeliner, mascara, and blood red lipstick, applying each carefully. She then pulled her long hair into a messy-looking, yet carefully sculpted upsweep. Satisfied, she walked into her bedroom again and stood in front of her full-length mirror in the corner. She turned, looked over her shoulder, stepped in, moved back; all in all, scrutinizing her image as though she would be paraded in front of all the gods of the collective pantheons. Smoothing her skirt one final time, she walked into the living room, where Lisa was flopped on the couch. “What do you think? Do I look OK?”
Lisa’s gaze swept up and down, and she slid off the couch to a kneeling position. “Yes, Mistress, but you forgot your cat o’ nine tails.” She lifted her hand for Kiera to help her up. “But really, I’d say that you look dressed to kill, but that doesn’t quite say it. You look dressed to harm, maim, and destroy every male in your path, leaving them all begging and crawling for more.”
“Thanks. You don’t look half bad, yourself,” Kiera replied with a wink. “Now, let’s make like a tree, and get the fuck out of here.”
“Kiera.” Lisa poked her head back in the room. “Dress cute. We’re going hunting tonight.”
Kiera grumbled something half-heartedly about swearing off guys for a few months.
“Oh, please. It’s been three weeks already. You’ve beaten your previous record already. Besides,” Lisa continued, walking over to Kiera’s closet, “you need it. If you don’t at least toy with some poor, hapless guy for a little while, you’ll start seeking girls to hang out with. I think we both remember the bloodshed that that leads to.” She pulled a top and a skirt off their hangers. “Suit up. Your boots too.”
The outfit in question was a short black skirt with a dark grey panel that was topped with fishnet material and a top that was made to look like a corset. It was a pale, satiny silver that zipped up in the back with black lace sewn in vertical stripes over two of the metal spines and black ‘ties’ for decoration. And, of course, the boots. They came to just below her knee, zipper on the inside, and were black leather.
She’d seen them in the store. Stared at them. Even out of context, on a shelf in a store, the boots simply dripped attitude and things of a darker nature. Upon inquiry, the clerk had told her that since they were an unpopular style, they were no longer being carried. In fact there was only one pair left. What size? Eight and a half. Her size. And at sixty percent markdown, she gave in to the temptation. Kiera had mustered the attitude and courage only once to wear them, and an outfit that suited the occasion, outside of her apartment. She and Lisa had gone out to some club or another, and had a blast.
She grinned, remembering that particular night. Zipping up her boot, she walked into the bathroom and rummaged through the mess that was her makeup drawer, pulling out some black eyeliner, mascara, and blood red lipstick, applying each carefully. She then pulled her long hair into a messy-looking, yet carefully sculpted upsweep. Satisfied, she walked into her bedroom again and stood in front of her full-length mirror in the corner. She turned, looked over her shoulder, stepped in, moved back; all in all, scrutinizing her image as though she would be paraded in front of all the gods of the collective pantheons. Smoothing her skirt one final time, she walked into the living room, where Lisa was flopped on the couch. “What do you think? Do I look OK?”
Lisa’s gaze swept up and down, and she slid off the couch to a kneeling position. “Yes, Mistress, but you forgot your cat o’ nine tails.” She lifted her hand for Kiera to help her up. “But really, I’d say that you look dressed to kill, but that doesn’t quite say it. You look dressed to harm, maim, and destroy every male in your path, leaving them all begging and crawling for more.”
“Thanks. You don’t look half bad, yourself,” Kiera replied with a wink. “Now, let’s make like a tree, and get the fuck out of here.”