Just Right (Part 29)
Wolfe: Danse Macabre
The first screams froze the blood in my veins.
It was surreal, like something I could see at The Slipper Room or The Box. Nymphs whirled in the darkness, snaking around a golden cage. They spun and twirled, a macabre dance, blooms of flame swirling around them like fireflies dancing in the air. It reminded me of the stage at Smiley’s, an elaborate production. I’d seen Red do something similar, bringing in the other dancers, a wild stage show that had mooks emptying their bank accounts at her feet. We’d fucked in the alley that night, steps from where she…where I…
But this was different, artistic and fluid, like a sinister ballet. Like our fucking. And I thought of the way the leather strap left welts and bruises on her flesh. She cried as I moved around her helpless body, flicking my wrist, the leather snaking in, her sobbing muffled by the cotton filling her mouth. They twisted and turned, circling the cage like faeries, whimsical and ethereal, as if this was simply a play for the me in the cheap seats. I could almost feel the music, the tempo, feel their…
