Coochie Coochie
Chapter Five
M.C. Laphar
“Where is my daughter?” Mehra Fadruthiya screamed. She was definitely Cana's mother. She had the beautiful form of her young daughter, and looked like a slightly older version of her. However the woman was dressed in a very expensive black dress. Her husband, Maloj was dressed in an equally expensive tuxedo. The president of Georgetown University looked over the two people who stared at him with eyes reddened from both worry, and drink.Chapter Five
M.C. Laphar
“Now, my friends I-”
“Friends?” the mother screamed, “Saala kutta, I want my daughter to appear to us immediately.”
“My dear,” Maloj whispered, “they're saying that she's not on the campus.”
“You shut up.” Mehra hissed. “I want my daughter to be found.”
“There is no reason to call me a bloody dog my dear.,” the president said.
“Oh I am so sorry my wife called you that. Even more that you understood it.” Maloj said shamefully. “We've just come from a party you see,”
“A very important party,” Mehra hissed.
“Regarding our corporation. And we did not expect our daughter to be kidnapped.”
“It is understandable. No one expects their children to disappear into nothing.” the president said, “We are cooperating with the federal police, as well as the local and regional police of the tristate area. Cana and Marie can not have gotten far.”
“Marie too?” Mehra screamed, “Oh great gods...”
“How long have they been gone?” Maloj asked.
“Since friday night,”
“Oh my, you are very late on this aren't you?”
“We had no idea until someone reported it this morning when they saw Marie get into a police car.”
“Oh my...”
On the floor of the oubliette, Maria kicked and screamed as the thirty fingers of the three men danced along her belly and ribs. They came from three sides. Two behind her to her left and right, and one straddling her hips. Their manner was like a zombie digging for blood and guts, they dipper their fingers into the trembling ticklish flesh of the pretty youngf woman and drew out screams of terror and of agony entwined with uncontrollable chuckling.
But Cana was suffering more. For her it wasn't the aspect of the tickling itself, so much as, she had a feeling she was about to be killed by this Lecteresque man. Dante dragged the feather along the invisible line that went from Cana's deep navel to her breastbone. He then slid it along the underside of her breasts, watching them move as the feather pressed into her skin.
“Tell me Cana,” he said as he watched her hang her head, sniggering softly, “Do you enjoy this? Being tickled I nthis manner?”
“No..hehe....don't...stop it....” She snorted before laughing again. Dante stood upright and reached upward to stroke Cana's bare upper body. To him, it was like being Michaelangelo, painting the Sistine Chapel, on an even more wonderful medium; heaven rendered on the human form. It caused him to stop for a moment and consider his position. He left the room quite suddenly and Cana sighed in relief.
Twenty minutes passed in silence, save for the breathing of Cana's dry nostrils. Then the soft footfalls of Dante reached her ears, and Cana tensed up. He entered, with a paint set, a number of brushes, and a cloth and water. He dipped the cloth in the water, wrung it, and then gently washed her face. The cool water was refreshing to the young Indian woman's face, and it was even more pleasing when she felt the tip of the cloth threading through her nostrils, cooling and hydrating the flesh on the inside of her nose.
“Something tells me that you are prone to nosebleeds. Am I correct?”
Cana didn't say anything, but she knew he was right.
“I'm sure you appreciate the treatment, despite your precarious position.”
“Of course.”
“I have a bargain for you my dear.” Dante said, “I have killed many others in my time, and it isn't something I regret. But I will spare your life, on the condition that you accompany me to a ball. This evening.”
Cana's eyes lit up, she looked directly ay Dante, “Does this mean I will be free from this bondage?”
“You will be released for this moment, but I can not let you go free. Yet.”
“But there is a possibility that I will be free...”
“There is always a possibility Cana.”
“Well, I don't want to die in here so I guess I will--”
“Marvelous.” Dante knelt beside his paints, and began to work spreading them and mixing them.
“What are you doing?”
“You are far too lovely to be bare.” He said as he rose to his feet, a paintbrush dipped in a mixture of black and green paint in his left hand.
“You are a Sinistral,”
“Yes I am.” Dante said as he glided the paintbrush along her hip bones and up her right side, stopping just under the breasts, then gathering more paint, continued along her breasts, and back down the other side, to connect with the paint patter as it began. Cana had a maniacal grin on her face and her titters and squeaks fit the subtle situation.
“You have such a wonderful body, did you know that Cana?” Dante said as he dipped his brush in red paint and painted around her navel with the most delicate of strokes, causing the young woman to shudder and stretch, heaving in and out. “Even as I paint this masterpiece, your being is beautiful, quite perfect. Few others have bodies with the elegance of God's creation in them to such an extent.”
“Huh...huh.....hehehe.....” Cana giggled. Dante smiled sinisterly as he continued. For thirty minutes, Dante teased and applauded Cana on her ticklishness, and her body respectively. He often talked about the human body when he painted it seemed to Cana. When he finished, he let Cana down and led her out of the oubliette, and into the corridor beyond.
My god....out of the darkness... Cana thought as she walked down the corridor, holding tightly to Dante's silk clad arm. She was surprised she was doing this, and she let go suddenly. Dante didn't notice. Or if he did, he didn't care.
“Tell me about this ball.”
“It is a ball for millionaires, the GA Summit.”
“GA?”
“Gargalene Associates.”
“What is that?”
“A Tickling Enthusiast's Club for the rich and the well funded.”
“I'm not going to be tickled am I?” Cana said with a wretch. “I've been tickled for a while anyway..”
“No, they will not. I will not let them lay a finger on you.”
“Or anything.”
“Hm?”
“Don't think I didn't catch that you like to play with words.”
“Ah.” Dante smiled. “You are quite an observant young woman.”
“I learn well when I get the shit and piss tickled out of me.”
“You are not Hindu are you?” Dante asked as he made his way up the stairway to the doorway.
“No, I was raised a Christian.” Cana said as she followed him.
“I could tell. You don't have that Hindu aura. More of a freer aura, but a nasty one all the same.”
“What? Who do you think you are calling my aura nasty. You don't even know me.”
“But I can feel you.” He replied turning to face her, the white light of the upstairs cloaking him, causing him to be a silhouette. “And I have felt your aura before.”
“Who are you anyway? What is your name?” Dante smiled, his white teeth glinting from the natural light, a brilliant white.
“I,” he flicked his hair back with his left hand, “Am Dante Alighieri. And you need to wash your body.”
When they reached the main floor, Cana was amazed at what she saw. It was an old house, victorian style, but it was massive, with beautiful parquet flooring, and wonderful paintings on the wall. So realistic some of them, others, so fantastical, or romantic you would swoon at their sight. The artwork was the best Cana had ever seen.
“Wow,” Cana said as she looked at the painting of a young woman with dirty blond hair in a construction worker's outfit. “This is better than DaVinci.”
“I am better than Da Vinci.” He kept walking to the stairway. “Come along.” Cana followed him up the stairs and to a bathroom. Here he handed her towels, and closed the door. “Your size is a six in shoes right?”
“Yes.” she shouted before turning the water on. She turned to the mirror and gasped. She had forgotten that she had been painted on by Dante, and when she saw what was on her upper body, she was struck with some awe.
Fire. It was painted so vividly on her tummy that she thought it was real. Within the fire was a diamond, and above it was an Angel, holding its hand over it.grasping it. Her breasts were painted as two beautiful ghostly bluish white stars. Two planets orbited each one, and from the way they were placed, it looked likt the planets could be traded in orbit by the stars. Passed from one gravitational pull to the other and back again like a lunch bag in a pair of bully's hands as they play 'keep away' from a meek child.
An unwilling child. Bound to a game that she had to fight to win. No matter how many tricks are played on to keep the victim jumping. Cana could sympathize. She admired the angel's craft as she backed away from the mirror, and entered the shower.
Dante sat in the living room in the dark long chair that he had lain in before, that he had tortured Michelle in before, and he savored the view of Cana's face. It was a face he had seen only twice before he caught her. It was a slightly round head with a sharp chin; her nose was like an arrow, her cheeks were large; but not huge. Her cheekbones were set high and her hair was a deep, brown, and shined due to its natural straightness. The first time he met such a face, it was covered up by a lovely dark head wrapping which had been customary for people of the status of the face's owner. The second time it was at a party, on Georgetown University's Campus.
Music blared and drinks were shared and the faint scent of marijuana filled a corner of a room occupied by at least a hundred, maybe more, hard partying college students. It was a simple celebration of little importance, and yet it attracted a huge crowd. What had been intended as a small gathering had been inflated into a massive be there or be square event. Though less than a quarter of the students attended.
demons dressed in drag and angels dressed in leather danced alongside each other, for this night anything went and they knew it. And the mere mortals at the walls who looked as normal as anyone could be, wondered, if they danced out there in the middle, might they attain the status of these beings?
Only Cana knew which part she played that night as she danced, wearing a pair of dark sunglasses and a black and red skirt and top. Her thigh high boots, made of black and red leather completed the outfit. She danced with a similarly strangely dressed figure. The person wore a dark mask, a black redingote, and long black pants with dark socks. They danced in tandem to Cana, keeping the beat no matter the situation.
Dante watched from the side of the room, he had picked Cana out to be his victim. He had information on her from his associates who he had ordered to keep a very close eye on her. Studying her, he admired her freedom and vivacity. He enjoyed her smile, and her voice. But most of all, he took great pleasure in imagining how she'd act in his oubliette.
Dante was dressed so inconspicuously, that he drew no attention even though his skin was the colored of a boiled egg.. He wore a pair of black jeans, a black t-shirt and a pair of black sneakers. He had a chain hanging from the pocket of his pants, and he sipped some of the beer that was served. He could only take the drink in sips, because it tasted so horribly. He never liked beer. He was more of a Pirno Grigio man himself. He in fact had one of the first bottles of the priest's beverage in his wine cellar.
It was half an hour before the party as abruptly ended by an entry by the campus police. Everyone flitted around the room looking for an exit, and Cana dashed along with the people. She ran past a guard, who saw her and tried to restrain her. She kicked the man in the knee as she picked up her bag and left the room. Dante followed her. She had made her way down the hallway to a restroom, and Dante milled around a corner, listening for the door to open. When it finally did, he saw Cana walk out in a pair of blue low rise jeans, and a yellow t-shirt. She Had changed very quickly and even her makeup was different. In this way, Cana made her way right by the officers, acting as if she had no idea of what was going on, and left the building entirely.
She shouldn't have left the building. As she made her way to the Lauinger Library, she was subdued by Dante who put a cloth filled with chloroform over her mouth, and rendered her unconscious. He carried her to his car, and drove off into Maryland. Once he reached his house, his assistants took her to the oubliette and bound her. And he woke from his slumber after she began screaming for help.
Cana had finished her shower agter half an hour of bathing. She needed to get the filth of solitude off of her skin. She went into the next room and found a beautiful black dress and bodice set waiting for her. She fitted the bodice on, and then put on the dress. It fit her quite well, even though she expected the bodice itself to be rather tight, she was quite surprised to see it was not. She pulled on a pair of black stockings as well and then slipped down the stairway. Dante rose from his seat and brought her, in a very exaggeratedly chivalrous manner, a pair of shoes.
WHAT A HYPOCRITE! Cana thought. She msiled and took the shoes and slipped them on. “Where shall we gonow?”
“We shall go to my limousine.”
“What? You've got a limo?”
“Of course. I am not going to go to a millionaires ball without a limousine.”
“A personal limo?”
“Yes my dear Cana,” he smiled, “Now, we must be off, the ball awaits.”
