Little Miss Wonder

Little Miss Wonder


In 1950's film star pose she sits in her neon lair and waits. The girl with the ivory perfect complexion and lips slashed scarlet. Tapping long fingernails on the table she casts kohl rimmed eyes around the club. It has to be the right one. It has to be a man who can give her exactly what she wants. Someone who can accommodate her desires. A man to satisfy her particular needs.

The boy who walked past when she first came in was almost faultless. He certainly had the look she was after. Lithe body draped in black silk and the most beautiful lily-white skin stretched taut over chiselled cheek bones. But he didn't possess that eagerness she sought. It's not easy looking for that different kind these days. She had found one last Saturday. Now he was very special. He wasn't afraid to really let himself go. He had given his mistress everything he could possibly give. She had enjoyed him.

The club is filling up. Pulsing strobe lights illuminates a procession of fragile, faces. Most of the crowd in here recognise her now and it's important she is discreet. It will be the last time she frequents this place. They'll be rumors and lies and stories they made up and she does so hate to be the object of their idle chit chat. Just one more for old time's sake and then find somewhere new. She crosses her legs. Soft leather slides up her thigh revealing just a taunt of lace stocking top. If you want it, boys, get it here. Like moths to the feminine flame. Guaranteed result.

Music pounds a relentless, vibrating beat as people stream by. She is the object of some ones lust. She can sense his eyes stroking her back, slowly trailing downwards to her stocking tops. Eyes kissing her legs all the way down to her killer heels. A good sign. It's all in the eyes. They are the windows of the soul after all and if they haven't got that certain glint then she's simply not interested. But she can feel these eyes so firm and hot burning into her skin. He has to be a contender for tonight.

She knows he's coming over. She flicks her tongue over her full lips. Moist, glistening, inviting devilish red lips. She swings her body round to face him. He's close now. She must check the eyes. It's most important. Just as she thought. This is definitely the one. Perfect. A tease of a smile crosses her face as she accepts his offer of a drink. It's the same every weekend. She chooses a candidate and like lambs to the slaughter they follow without question. It never ceases to amaze her how the yearning for sins of the flesh freezes their brains.

He has his hand on her knee and she plays the game to perfection. She smiles. She flirts. And all the while she looks deep within his hopeful eyes. His hand has crept further up her leg. Fingers roam over smooth, warm skin with increasing excitement as she ever so slightly parts her thighs. It's nearly time. With a sharp, black fingernail she softly traces an invisible pattern down his tattooed arm. She must ask him. "If I give you my body will you give me your soul?" It's always so wonderfully easy. Poor misguided mortals. Since time began not one of the souls she carefully selects ever realises that it's their very future at stake. It's really not unfair though. She made him a deal like any other candidate and like the rest of them he willingly accepted.

Little Miss Wonder.
28 March 2004.