TYPING: Imagine your worst nightmare come to reality…
The car of my dreams closes shut with a bang as I brush past my chauffeur into 1472 Broadway Street. Watch me swagger into the Condé Nast building in my fitting Polo ralph Lauren t-shirt, my thigh-snagging Prada jeans and my Dolce and Gabbana boat shoes (which I never come around to trashing though I frequently hashtag BoycottDolceandGabbana, believe me).
People avoid me all through my walk to the ground floor lifts. I’m the Iron Man and no one wants to get something made of iron hurled at them repeatedly.
My assistant, Anne Hathaway of course, is the only one brave enough to meet me as I step out of the elevator. She’s also efficient in carrying the stack of magazines I toss at her and a fur-coat I got from one of my employees in the elevator by twisting her arm.
TYPING: Your worst nightmare meeting reality.
“Andrea,” I call as I push through the French glass doors that have GQ spelt out on them, “what’s my schedule for today?” Tap. Tap. Tap. A few feet into my working area and she’s not still spoken. “Andy?” I spin around to glare at her. And just before I am about to fire her and tell her a million girls would die to have her job…
My assistant is nowhere behind me. All I see is Taylor Launtler…
I want to excuse this. I want to think, Oh shit, I work at GQ after all, I might as well get used to having a male assistant. But why did HR never think to consult me before replacing my assistant seconds ago?——
OMG, a loud gasp escapes my mouth. Why is Taylor Launtler taking off his clothes right in front of me? Surely he knows I wouldn’t give him a smashing bonus or any bonus at all just because he has a hot bod? He must have read about me before taking the job?——
Wait! Unless of course this was all a bad omen, and seeing Taylor Launtler…
I shot up straight from my bed, panting like I was being pursued with my forehead damped with perspiration. “Wolves! The wolves!” I yelled frantically, gazing around the darkness of my room.
TYPING: And all you can do is…
On the next bed was my roommate. With a girl. Doing what guys did when they were lying on top of girls in missionary position. And this girl was…
“Aaargh!” My scream moved uniformly with the girl’s.
TYPING: … scream.
Maya guffawed so hard you’d think I was Kevin Hart or someone similar. I really did wish I could have the luxury of joining her. But except I didn’t find what I’d said seconds ago remotely funny.
“Shush.” I resisted the urge to kick her under the table we were sharing in the café filled with curious students who looked like they wanted in on what Maya was sadly making out to be the joke of the week.
“So, lemme get this straight,” Maya spoke through giggles, “you have bugs under your eyes because Raymond was fucking a screamer.”
“Raymond was fucking a screamer?” Out of nowhere Celeste joined us on the adjacent bench of our window seat with her takeout coffee. “And, Jesus Christ, what the heck are you wearing?” she stabbed a manicured finger at me.
“It’s called a wife-beater, Celeste,” Maya said with an eye-roll tugging at the corners of the habit’s collars. “And I bet you are hurting Kobby allowed me be his personal stylist today.”
Celeste looked like someone had poured rotten egg yolk in her face, then shrugged, unperturbed. “At least, it’s just for today. So spill,” she turned to me ignoring the Save Me expressions I was casting in her direction, “who was this screamer Raymond was boinking?”
“One of those irregular faces.” I answered dismissively. “And trust me, she screams so hard you’d think Raymond was starting a fire down her throat.”
“Her vagina,” Celeste corrected which almost got me spewing my latte at her. “Maya can elaborate how that feels, you know, having a fire started down there by Raymond?”
“Oh, it’s lovely.” Maya answered teasingly still patting down the collar of my wife-beater.
Celeste glared at her, and I jumped in before the two could get into a row. “You know, why was this girl screaming instead of moaning? I thought Raymond was doing all the right things she should have found pleasurable? I mean, they were at it in the middle of the night, shouldn’t that be enjoyable enough?”
“Totally. Midnight sex is fantastic.” Celeste answered. I think Maya, as well as I, sensed an omitted ‘with Raymond’ somewhere in her bluff. “But the screaming bit. I totally detest all girls who scream during sex. It’s totally subjugating. This girl is clearly not a feminist like that one there.” Celeste chin-pointed Maya with her eyes fixed on me as though the former wasn’t present. “There’s a couple in my backyard always going at it late in the night too, Kobs. I know! Who does risky sex during hours it cannot be labelled risky anymore? How I manage to get some sleep…” She shook her head in a melodramatic depiction of wonderment. “Some reason, anytime they are at it, I feel so exhausted because of my demanding job.” That rubbed in the face of Maya. “And this girl, she screams like she’s some animal. A wolf? And that’s just the start of her aria because when she comes, I swear my walls echo the sound of her cries. Would you ever go help me hunt them down, Kobs? No, no, not in that outfit, it’s despicable.”
“Methinks she doth stare at me with envy.” Maya mocked, looking at me for support only to find me widely opening my lids at Celeste in that Save Me look I’d got on.
“Kobs, you do not like my outfit?”
Her question was so direct, I felt if I didn’t drop my doughnut and look all too serious I wouldn’t be able to give a response suitable to her.
“Tell her, Kobby,” Celeste was clearly enjoying this. “Tell her you look ridiculous.”
OK, now that was what I’d never be admitting even if a gun was pointed to my head. No one should admit they looked ridiculous even if they were a hundred per cent sure they did. “I do not look ridiculous.” I said with affirmative nods in Celeste’s direction avoiding Maya’s pointing gaze. Oh, how did you put something if you wanted to emerge without the feelings of a good friend scathed?
You see, for some reason, Maya had pounded on my door early that morning and brought in three hangers of a collection of clothes she put together that would ‘suit me for the day’. I would have said no, and shut the door at her so that I could regain some of the hours I’d lost before my morning Politics and Development lecture. But knowing Maya, she wouldn’t leave me the hell alone if I didn’t pick one outfit (——“C’mon, do not only pick, try it on and model it out!”). So I just chose the collection that didn’t make me resemble a battered creature (——“You look breath-taking, Kobs! You should try the others too.” No, thank you) and pushed her out of my room. Unfortunately, she’d waited at my hostel’s lounge area because she thought I’d reconsider looking every bit like an unstable person. And she was really going all out with this new desire to be my personal stylist going on and on about how she was particular that I set trends and wearing an actual turtle neck instead of a faux one would sure make the spanking fashion statement I needed. But I knew she was doing all this because, Celeste, my self-imposed personal stylist who was also my roommate’s ex and thinking of snatching him back into a serious relationship, encouraged I wore real fur.
“Your silence is golden, Kobs.” Celeste sniggered as she loudly siphoned coffee with her straw.
“Methinks someone is afraid of competition.” Maya remarked at Celeste after looking away from me.
Celeste almost gagged. “You! Competition? You could never beat me at anything even if I stepped back and watched you.”
“Methinks someone is getting so full of herself when she hasn’t considered that I’m still shagging the man of her dreams.”
TYPING: What do guys think about girls who scream?
I posed the question before they were at each other’s throats.
“Raymond sure loves it when I scream.” Maya bragged.
“But I’m sure I would always be his best.” Celeste cut in before Maya could begin demonstrating just how she (never) screamed.
Seconds later, I watched the two running around tables in the café asking guys they’d both slept with who was better in bed.
“Jeez, some friends.”
I turned to a guy who sat alone at a table away from mine. “Tell me about it.” I moaned melodramatically. Then shot up straight in my seat when an idea came to me.
“Hey, what do you think about girls who scream?” I figured out if I asked at least I’d get somewhere for my blog post. Even though he was a total stranger and casting me You Are A Weirdo glances.
“I’m not sure I’d want any girl to scream when we are at it.” He answered finally.
“Besides the fact that I might get tinnitus because I very much like whispering dirty stuff into ears with every thrust, I believe sex should be a quiet affair and not broadcasted to the whole world I was burying my dick into your no-mans-land.”
Oh. Wow. See the progress I was making? Just a few edits and that would be fit for my sex blog.
TYPING: How do you control the screaming?
Next day, I was thankful my lecture was over because it just wasn’t right to this lecturer that just in front of him I was dozing. Again, Raymond had been fucking the screamer all night and Taylor Launtler was in my dreams again transitioning into a wolf.
OMG, I could throw something at Celeste and Maya. God knows I’d had enough screaming for the day.
I was accosted from behind, my hands were tagged upon, I was being dragged from one side to the other, I was having things shoved in my face. I was contemplating hiding somewhere and shooting myself. No, a few minutes of sleep didn’t guarantee a sane mind with safe thoughts.
“Kobby, you would look good in this colour.” Maya shoved what looked like a shirt with a choking neckline in my direction.
“Kobby, I picked this up for you because I know it would totally suit you!” Celeste yelled in my ear as she pushed before me a bomber Jacket.
I wanted to tell Maya that if she wanted to be a personal shopper for males it wasn’t ideal she pulled out stuff from her own closet. I wanted to tell Celeste that having suicidal thoughts pretty much most of the time didn’t make it ideal for me to be going about wearing anything that looked like a bomber jacket. But in the scorching sun, and in my woe, I halted and showing my frustration, I ranted, “For forty-eight hours, I’m not sure I’ve slept for an hour. Fuck, can you people not see I have bugs under my eyes and this minute I look old, and wrinkled and not having enough strength to put a hole into your heads? Why do girls scream too much?” I turned to continue walking to my hostel, hoping I’d communicated, loud and clear, my message I didn’t want to be bothered.
“Hey, you shouldn’t be so peeved.” Maya said to me. “I was just showing you what I thought would make your eye colour pop.”
“And besides,” Celeste jumped on the offensive train as Maya, “just so you know, girls do not only scream. Guys do too. So why make such derogatory remark to all females.”
“Totally,” Maya agreed. “I have fucked a handful of guys——“
“Girls,” I turned to them again. “Is there any way I could control this whole screaming business?”
The two exchanged looks as though sharing a similar idea.
“You could always remember a busy mind is never disturbed?” Celeste suggested to a nod of approval from Maya.
I smiled with so much iciness I could swear the two were shivering underneath my gaze. “And you two should remember to go fuck yourselves and leave me the hell alone!”
A busy mind is never disturbed, a busy mind is never disturbed, I chanted to myself as I laid in bed that night.
Anne Hathaway. Bang-bang. Taylor Launtler. Woof-woof. “Aaargh!”
I hoped that minute Maya and Celeste were fucking themselves.
TYPING: Do men also scream too?
“Yeah, telling myself a busy mind is never disturbed didn’t help, you two. Thanks.” I said to the two over at the café the next day. At least, there were perks to looking this horrible from lack of sleep, one of them included being ruled out of modelling for Maya’s look book branding herself as campus’ finest personal shopper (——my arse!)
“Kobs,” Maya spoke, rummaging through her bag. “I brought you a present that would cheer you up.”
I didn’t look up from stirring my coffee with lack lustre. Yesterday, she’d brought by a spaghetti-strapped sequined top bragging it would show off my ‘splendid muscly arms’. Did she even believe I had ‘splendid muscly arms’? Not when she called me scrawny and yelled at me to go get a gym subscription when she wasn’t playing personal shopper a week ago.
“I also brought you some answers to your questions.” I looked up from my coffee to Celeste who’d spoke, I was curious, but then something set with a bang on the table gave me a jolt.
Christ, hadn’t I had enough banging, screaming already? Maya obviously didn’t agree. Because on the table sat a tape recorder and before she could press any of its buttons, she said,
“Clear evidence that guys scream too.” She hit play.
There was a distinct crackling sound from the recording, then you could hear a faint voice, then some pounding sound. It didn’t take long for me to recognize the faint sounds were coming from a male and the pounding might just be the bed post against a wall. Suddenly the whole café went eerily quiet as they began hearing these faint sexual sounds from a moaning man. Everyone was twisting their necks to realize where these sounds were coming from. But they didn’t need to figure it for long, because this man in the recording certainly was about to come and had no reservations about a whole café of over a twenty students hearing.
“Oooh, Aaah, Oooosh!” The tape recorder crooned as Maya began swinging her arms like she was directing an orchestra. “AAAAAARRRRRGH! AAAAAARRRRRGHHH! MUM! DAD! I’M ALMOST HEREEEE!!! AND IT FEELS GOOOD!!!! AAAAARRRGHHH!!!! KIIAAAAAARRRRRGGGHHHHHHH!!!!” Christ, you’d think he was coerced into walking on hot coals.
I sat in my seat stunned and silent as was Celeste and the whole café. This guy went on and on screaming his lungs out till I thought there could be no increasing font size depicting his level of excitement. He’d reached the peak——Seventy-two? Seventy-five?——of Times New Roman and there was no stopping him now.
I hit stop of the blasting tape recorder and stared at the device in shock. “You cannot be serious. How do you get a man screaming like a man-child?”
“Oh, simple.” Maya shrugged like it was no biggie she’d reduced a man to nothingness. “You just have to pretend you are also going through the world’s most shattering orgasm.”
“Kobby, that’s nothing.” There was another bang on the table and there was Celeste’s recorder.
Oh, Christ, if I took another, ‘Blarrgh, Kiaarrgh’ for today I was going to combust.
“At least let him recover from mine first,” Maya snickered. “God, Celeste, don’t you see the state I’ve got the poor guy in?” Celeste only glared at her. “No one makes a guy scream like I do!” She guffawed for her victory over Celeste.
“I’m sick of this bitch.” Celeste ignored her, turned to me, “Kobs, would you please go help me drive out that screaming couple in my backyard? I promise, if I find out one more time some people are having regular sex than I am, I’m going to commit myself to a nunnery.”
“Late at night?” That sounded incredulous. Especially for someone who was hardly getting any good sleep for some time now.
“Think of it this way,” Celeste urged, “you can place your aggression on another screaming couple for making one too many lives a living hell. We’d be ridding the world of one screaming couple.”
Wow, I cocked my head to one side with a smile forming on my lips, I hadn’t seen it that way.
Except Celeste and I would not have encountered a couple that night. Apparently, no one had warned us of wolves sighted in these parts. And even Celeste, who thought I shouldn’t be so scared and come off that tree this minute, couldn’t drive away the animal snarling at us through fiery eyes. Long story short, let’s say Celeste solidified her stance that all animals were born to be skinned alive for clothes and PETA could just go screw themselves (“I wouldn’t rather die than wear your fur, you stinky animal!” Celeste shouted from a treetop). The campus journo who very much detested the ‘fashionable and brainless, evil spawn who prided in killing animals for clothes’ was happy to
that the predator had turned prey and was currently being hospitalized for
several broken bones.
TYPING: How do you put a stop to the screaming?
“I hate the bitch.” Maya said to me as we watched Celeste all bandaged in a wheelchair playing the victim(—as if!) with Raymond who’d just walked into the café. “Even this much hurt she still manages to triumph over me all the time.”
My head shot to Maya in surprise. Then I knew it was high time I voiced what I thought about all this cattiness with Celeste before it got out of hand. An image of her pushing the now helpless Celeste down a cliff was terrifying and possible. “You should stop all this ‘I want to be better than Celeste’, Maya.”
“Why should I when she’s also thinking the same?”
“Because I tell you, you are better than that.”
“I want to be better than her, Kobs.” She spat back. “And I know if I sit back and watch her be the girl Raymond is contemplating taking back——yes, he is——I would find myself on the losing end.”
For someone who was just a fuck buddy to my man-ho roommate she sure could be possessive. I nodded as though I understood her, willing to let this go to prepare myself in solving my dilemma. The dilemma that might have been approaching any moment from now if Celeste hadn’t thought it right to delay by seeking some sympathizers.
“… so I’m throwing this party—“
“Party?” My attention turned from Celeste who was steadily holding Raymond’s hand in her grip unwilling to let go to Maya’s insanity. “You’ve really gone yourself far, Maya.”
“I have, haven’t I?” She broke into a little giggle. “But think of it, the only one good thing Celeste could do besides personal shopping is throwing gigs. If I beat her to that, it would shut her trap. And make Raymond see me as someone who could be better than her.” She cast a glance over my shoulder to look at the couple, and as though she’d seen their relationship progress to a higher stage (—which I doubted one could achieve just by holding hands) she began speaking manically at me, “It’s tonight, Kobs.” She rummaged through her bag. “You could help me distribute the fliers.”
I stared at the fliers she’d put on the table. I didn’t want to comment that it was quite impossible to get people attending a party in just a day’s notice. And a venue which I’m sure she hadn’t already booked——I saw from the topmost flier she was deciding to use this café as the party ground. “Maya, I haven’t had enough sleep already.”
She cast me a look and smiled sorrowfully. “You get some sleep, right? Your granny is already doing a good job putting out fliers, and tonight she’s helping me bust into Celeste’s style wardrobe to pick an outfit.”
“What?” My shock transcended our table. Before I could get her to explain, she hurried away and gave Raymond a fleeting kiss as he was finally approaching.
“You wanted to speak to me?”
I cast aside Maya’s little felony with my grandma who off-late was being one heck of a naughty senior citizen by deciding permanent residence on campus with her witch doctor husband before she kicked the bucket, and focused on getting pressing matters solved.
Raymond, my man-ho roommate took the adjacent table pulling my latte with him.
I sighed. I might as well go straight to the point then. “You cannot do the sex thing late at night anymore.” I thought setting some ground rules in the start would make his agreement pacier.
He didn’t answer, he went on noisily siphoning liquid out of the plastic takeout cup.
“Raymond, I cannot sleep,” I elaborated. “And what’s all this screaming business with this current girl you are doing?”
“Oh, the screaming,” he grinned, folding his hands across the table. “Amazing isn’t it?”
“Not quite so. Raymond, there’s a way you could prevent the screaming,” my pitch had taken on a reprimanding note. “You could cover her mouth——”
“I could shove down a pillow in her face. I could even seal her lips with a kiss, or if I cannot be bothered to move down, a plastic tape would do.”
“Then why aren’t you doing all that?” I yelled in annoyance. To think I thought he had no option than allow her disturb.
“Guys like girls who scream.” He announced so cockily I could clock him in the eye.
“It boosts our ego. You know, drilling could get boring sometimes. And the only indication we are doing a very good job is the screams.”
Oh. I was stunned by this little discovery. “So just because of your ego, I should pretty much get used to this girl announcing to the world that you are really good at this, um, drilling thing?”
“Relax, Kobs. I wouldn’t have sex every other night.”
“You have sex every other night!”
“With the same girl,” he added pointedly. “But in the meantime, I am enjoying her vocal strength so get used to it.”
“I won’t.” I spat back with a fierce bang on the table. I knew I was being a bit dramatic, but perhaps I thought that was the only way I could get Raymond to take me serious.
“Well, I wouldn’t change who I’m currently banging just to suit your sleeping arrangements.” He stood up from the table. “Now, if you’d excuse me, she’s coming over this minute.”
Oh, I’m not going to let him win this one, I thought petulantly. It was my room too and
I deserved some silence when I needed it. It’s on, Raymond, I thought ferociously as I watched him walk out the door.
You know, I was tired of chanting empty vessels made the most noise or whatever Celeste taught to do. I was putting an end to this all right now. So minutes later, I was on my way to the room when I heard the sounds.
Oh, that was it right there, the girl was on the verge of orgasm, seconds away from it, I knew. So if I run in and stopped her from screaming…
I broke through the door, to see Raymond at it as usual grunting silently as he watched the girl scream at the top of her lungs. I knew I should turn away, and wait till they were done before I confronted her. But she could be thankful later I wasn’t hitting her on the face with a kneading blade considering the options I had to choose from.
I rushed to the bed, kneeled beside it incurring weird glances from Raymond but of course, that wasn’t enough for him to stop plunging. I touched the girl by the shoulders as I stared right into her o-face. Her lids fluttered at the touch and she stared at me for the first time since she’d become a regular pest (—guest, in some circles).
“You do not have to scream,” I spoke to her softly like I had been an understanding health worker in another life. “You can do this without screaming, you can moan, you hear me?” She nodded hesitantly as her screams petered down. Great, progress. “You could just mooaan,” God, did I need a change of career? Am I good at this or what?
“You could just ease out a little breath… and sigh lightly. Ohhh, not Aaargh,” I coached. She followed. “Ohh, not arrrgh.”
Raymond, incensed, began plunging faster and deeper, I could tell from how the bed post was fastly pounding against the wall. I was positively challenged. But fuck, I should have equipped myself with hot towels for moments like this. The girl looked every bit in pain.
“What’s your name?” I asked the girl as I soothingly patted her forehead.
“Karen. Oooh-aaarrgh!” She answered just as Raymond inserted in her one powerful stroke, I could tell. Whew! This was going to be a lot harder than I thought.
“Oh, Karen, you can do this.” I said encouragingly, glaring at Raymond when I could.
“Yes, Karen, let’s give it one more try.”
“That’s my girl!” I pounded the air victoriously. “Now remember—“
“—It’s sex, it’s supposed to be enjoyed—“
“—Do not let anyone tell you otherwise, from now on, it’s…”
“Kobby!” Raymond yelled at me in frustration as he kept thrusting “Stop this now! Karen, you would scream right this minute!”
“Oh, Karen, you are doing all too well.” I couldn’t believe my first patient was really doing this good. God, I could do this every day. The joy of midwifery.
I backed away from the bed giving Karen a thumbs-up. “It’s OK, Karen, it would all be over soon. The power orgasm would be in this second, just remember to—“
Oh, wasn’t she a Straight-A patient?
“Screw you, Kobs!” Raymond yelled at me as I walked out of the room excitedly. “I’d get someone else!”
I shut the door at them. Sighing, I smiled leaning against the door.
The world seemed like a better place already.
TYPING: Scientists have explained that ecstasy during sex could be responsible for eccentric behavioural patterns…
I was wrong. And I’m happy to admit I was wrong. Not so many people could and
would still be happy about it. “I’m sorry I underestimated you, Maya.” I whispered, my eyes not leaving the café we’d so regularized this week. The place was a hubbub with lots of people seeming like they were having fun mingling.
Celeste was one of the many people who couldn’t admit they were wrong and even be happy about it either. “It’s such a bore, if you’d ask me.” Celeste said still clutching Raymond’s hand as he held the handles of her wheelchair. “No music, no dancing, just people hutched up around tables as though it is some heat source? Are we partying like they do it in the South Pole?”
At that moment, the lights of the club dimmed and a spotlight shone on the little podium mounted at a corner. We watched fake smoke twirl around the stage, leaving everyone murmuring in puzzlement. I cast a glance at Raymond in befuddlement as an eerie sound began pervading the café.
It sounded like a scene in a horror movie where the villain was emitting a computerised guttural laughter that sent shivers down the spine of the audience.
“What the heck is happening?” Celeste inquired out of fear. She’d been scared of the dark ever since her attack.
Of course, in all our confusion, we hadn’t looked up to see a rope extension from above lowering a figure in a pin-up dress down the stage. We all looked up at once to see the slow progression of the dark figure. The spotlight captured this character, wearing what was a Dracula costume, with blonde mane as she landed the stage.
Maya’s features were illuminated.
“What the fuck is she doing?” Celeste asked nervily. We all didn’t know.
“There are two types of girls, in this world,” Maya began in a steady pitch with a microphone close to her lips, staring darkly at her audience, “the ones that scream a lot… and the ones that don’t.”
The crowd below began cheering as Maya belted her own rendition of Britney Spears’ Circus. The lights came up again, and behind her I could see Grannie-Grandma on a microphone attached to a stand playing backup singer to the girl who was stunning us with her amazing vocal ability. A girl who I never knew possessed any talent whatsoever besides getting in dynamic positions for my roommate in my own bed.
“Is that Maya singing?” Raymond asked surprised and enamoured as a band of
instrumentalists at a corner began accompanying the lead singer.
“I’m pretty much sure!” I responded over the music which had taken a faster pace just as Maya launched into chorus.
TYPING: And just like pressure, everyone has a way of handling their own ecstasy…
There was Maya, mingling with her audience as she performed, teasing them with provocative dances.
“Oooh,” The crowd went ballistic with whistles and catcalls.
“This is all pathetic. Trust a slut to show up in something this disgusting and wow audience with her slutty moves instead of her vocal strength.” Celeste ranted from her wheelchair as Raymond and I broke into cheering ‘ooh’s to support Maya who’d spotted us in the audience and winked. “Moo!” Celeste jeered to counter the majority.
“Celeste,” Raymond bent to yell at her. “If you have nothing nice to say,” He clamped his hand shut on her mouth as Celeste wiggled to gain back her freedom of speech.
I grinned at him. “I thought screaming girls were your thing!”
He smiled back. “In bed, Kobs! In bed! No one likes a nagger!”
TYPING: We soar through heights during climax some of us put our useless hands to good use by grabbing hold of the sheets…
Maya had launched into Florence and The Machine’s Howl and she was already getting the audience jumping in excitement to the fast tune. Grannie-Grandma with her cracking voice couldn’t be more perfect belting out the chorus ‘Hoowwwwll, howwwl, howwwl.” Raymond was punching the air fiercely in exhilaration as he hopped around. I was doing the robot in tune to Maya.
TYPING: … Some of us put our useless legs to good use by curling our toes to the point of snapping them…
In the crowd I spotted quite a few familiar faces. Mandy, the recovering rape victim, who was happily bobbing her head to the tune. There was Sandra Buttock with her filming crew reporting with excitement at how this place was currently the hottest joint on campus——the reason the café door was being felt up by a student’s frame every second. Fetish Priest Husband was in dark shades knocking off the frantic male crowd who’d gathered around the podium cheering Grannie-Grandma on when she broke into a break dance every time she’d ended her chorus. And there was Celeste, caught a few times imperceptibly bobbing her head to the tune and pretended she wasn’t being moved with the crowd anytime Raymond and I cast a glance her way.
TYPING: … Some of us, in the throes of an earth-shattering orgasm, with our hips inched upwards, and our hands gripping tight the bed posts, and spasms shooting through our bodies, and our lips forming an o-shape…
Slowly, Maya braved the end of the song. Some of the audience familiar with the climax of the tune, like I was, joined in with her.
“The saints can’t help me now… the ropes have been unbound… I hunt for you with bloody feet across the hallowed ground!”
“Wooo!” The audience cheered for the abrupt end of the amazing song.
And just before Maya could contemplate on even launching into another tune with sweat pouring down every inch of her body and all——
“Aaargh!” A piercing scream sliced through the quiet.
Through the crowd I found Celeste’s gaze, and from the look on her face I could tell we were both sharing the same thought. Instinctively we looked around the room for Mandy and we saw her backed against a wall with her eyes wide open looking around her surroundings in fright.
Hearts began pounding loudly. Murmurs filled the momentary silence. Every face in the café held an amount of confusion. Then, “Aaargh! Aaargh! Aaaargh!” we all hadn’t been expecting the screams to surface again. Louder and persistent this time around. Soon, all eyes darted in the direction of the bathroom we suspected the noise coming from.
TYPING: … we do the one thing we can to handle large amounts of ecstasy, we emit…
We all crowded in the doorway to see the owner of the screams.
A light-skinned girl of medium height tied up to the ceiling from a rusty metallic hook stared down at us through eyes-filled with horror and tears streaming down her cheeks as she wiggled to break free.
We could all have rushed to help, but we were all so consumed with shock we were transfixed. And it wasn’t because she had little or no clothes on from her breasts that were on view for all to see.
The rapist had attacked once more. And from the blood ink of a sharpie pen splayed across the girl’s tummy, with the words, “I Am Back.” we knew he would be making regular visits this time around, before disappearing again into the shadows.
TYPING: …a loud piercing scream.
Author’s NOTE: Sex And The City Campus is available on this blog every Saturday. Thanks for not missing this episode as usual. Your comments and feedback are always welcome to firstname.lastname@example.org