You needn't try to figure out what you should call me. I don't need a name. To give me a name of my own would imply that I am a separate entity when in fact, I am not. I am only part of him. The darker side that he tries to deny exists.
The layer between the two of us is thin. Much thinner than he realizes. He has fooled himself into thinking that it's the liquor that lets me come through, which couldn't be further from the truth. The truth is I can come through anytime I want. The liquor makes it easier because his guard is down, but in reality, I only make him drink so much because I like the taste.
We've lived in relative harmony for years now. I knew about him, but he only found out about me just recently. I guess I have Dana to blame for that. It's too easy for me to be myself around her. She appeals to my—shall we say—more basic instincts. Dana is a lot of fun—I’ll give her that—but she’s dumb as a box of rocks and that definitely has its drawbacks. It doesn't matter much anyway. I'm coming through more and more often now that he has become so weak. Or should I say weaker. He's always been weak; sensitive and overly sentimental. He has these fanciful ideas about women. I guess that's what happens to a man who is raised by a neighborhood full of women with no male influence in the picture. They become soft, whimpering little idiots—easily controlled by the hairy monster between a woman's legs. I guess that's where I come in. I’ve saved Joaquin from himself more times than I care to remember. I keep him from getting into situations where he might feel more than he should. I definitely intervene before he starts throwing that love word around. I'm the one who shows him what that glorious organ between our legs is really meant for.
And it damn sure ain't love.
I round the block and nearly run smack into the end of the line waiting to get into the club. The girl that I bumped into gives me a wanton smile and I return it wholeheartedly. I file her face under 'a sure thing' and make a mental note fuck her blind if I happen to meet her inside. Maybe I can convince Dana to go in on a threesome. I’ve had a threesome before, but never with Dana. With her kinky proclivities, the evening could prove to be a very exciting indeed.
I walk right up to the velvet rope and the bouncer lets me in. The moment I am inside, a seductive waitress escorts me to VIP. As always, I am thankful that we have a pretty face. It makes things so much easier.
Dana is lurking in a dark corner. She’s so pale she seems to glow under the black light. Unlike Joaquin, I love her pale, nearly translucent skin. It bruises easy. Something as simple as a rough spanking can produce a fascinating array of colors.
I can tell by her slow, languid movements that she is already drunk or high. All the better for me. She’s much easier to manipulate in a compromised state. I walk right over to her and she looks up at me. I swear, no matter how much I hurt her she looks at me like I hung the moon. I grab her round the throat and kiss her. Biting her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.
"Let's go," I whisper to her. She doesn't ask any questions. That's why I like Dana, when I give her instructions she executes them quickly and without inquiry.
We go back to Joaquin’s—which is something we never do, but I hate that drafty loft apartment Dana keeps in the village. Besides, he’s having some sort of nervous breakdown, so I know he won't resurface for a couple of days.
I don't have to waste time on foreplay with Dana. Pushing her around and undressing her is enough to get her rough and ready. I pin her against the wall and grab her by her wrists, raising them high over her head until she is stretched up on her tiptoes. Her thin body looks so beautiful this way—stretched out taut like a piano wire and quivering with fear or anticipation. I’ m never sure which.
"This is gonna hurt..." I rasp in her ear as I unbuckle my belt and let my pants fall down around my ankles. "But if you're a good little girl and you don't scream or run away from me I promise to make it up to you later." I kick her legs wide apart and she begins to tremble. Oh, I love it when she trembles. It is like little earthquakes consuming her body. She whimpers involuntarily as I enter her, even though her lips are pressed tightly together. "Shhh...be a good girl." I whisper.
I have to laugh at myself.
Of course, she screamed and ran away.
I knew she would...
I never really had any intention of being sweet to her, anyway.