Hi all! This is a little story about a normal woman with a strange problem... Maybe with enough response I might continue the story and reveal the mystery OR I might just let you guys draw your own conclusions... Sorry for any switches between first and third person. I don't always catch myself.
***
Every year it's the same thing. The closer it gets to Christmas, the stranger Mandy felt.
"Are you sure you don't want to come to the party? It's not too late," her friend Erica asked.
"No," she answered absentmindedly. "I have something else to do." Mandy hung up the phone on a still talking Erica and walked towards her closet. Her hair was still wet from her shower, dripping down the almond colored skin exposed above her towel.
She took out a tight, light blue jean button-up corset and a pair of lacy shorts that stopped no further than the very bottom of her butt. Of course she knew in her mind that what she was about to do was ridiculous but she couldn't stop herself. She never could.
After applying several products to her hair to keep it from frizzing, she literally squeezed into her clothing and pulled out the highest pair of black stilettos in her closet. Turning to face the full length mirror in her room, she gave herself a once over. Her D cup breasts were threating to pop the buttons attempting to hold them in place, her wide hips adding to the deliciousness of her curves and her long, smooth legs were on display beneath the shorts that could easily double as lingerie. Her curly hair flowed down her back and framed her beautiful face that held plump pink lips and hazel eyes.
'I can't leave the house like this! I'll freeze! Someone will rape me!' she tried to tell herself. Her heart was racing but the fear she was feeling inside wasn't being reflected into the mirror. On the outside she looked cool, calm, and ready for what she knew was going to happen. She couldn't take control of her body and she sensed that whatever was controlling her knew it. She could only watch in horror as a wicked smile appeared on her face in her reflection. The world around her felt hazy and her skin tingled in anticipation. She walked towards her door with only her red clutch in hand and grabbed her car keys hanging by the door. The analog at the door stated it was already close to one thirty. She never leaves the house this late to go out. Just another sign that she was out of her mind. Usually she treaded carefully in the four inch heels she had on, but the force controlling her compelled her to stand straight and walk with confidence. She strutted down her porch steps like she was in sneakers going for a jog.
The night air was harsh against her skin but it turned out to be a relief. She felt as if she was on fire and the crisp wind was just what she needed to cool down. The neighborhood looked like something out of a fairytale. Everyone's houses decorated in white lights and inflatable characters. Trees were still covered in the snow that fell a few days prior and the ground covered in dew. Mandy kept to the sidewalk as she walked towards her car feeling defeated. She couldn't stop herself if she wanted to. All she wanted was an answer as to why this happened year after year.
Before she knew it, Mandy was sitting outside of a biker bar; "Big Billy's Biker Bar" to be exact and the crowd looked rough. The men were all in leather jackets and black boots or shoes. There were an assortment of different mustache/beard combinations and all had beers in hand. The moment Mandy stepped through the door, all eyes were on her. The music was loud and the lights were dimly lit. There was a haze of smoke in the air that made Mandy want to gag and everything was made of dark wood. There wasn't another soul in the establishment as dark as her and again she questioned how she hadn't been killed yet. Upon taking a few more steps into the bar, a man to her right grabbed her arm and spoke to her.
"I think yer lost little lady. How bout you get back in dat expensive car out der and go on home?" he said to her. His accent was throwing her off since his appearance didn't hint at the country twang she heard in his voice. Standing five feet and eight inches herself, the man towered over her still. The man had a bald head and brown haired beard that was cut like a triangle on his face. The arm he was holding her with was hairy and had a number of different tattoos making a sleeve. His fingerless leather gloves decorated with spikes matched the jacket he wore under a camo vest. He had a piercing in one of his ears and his breath smelled of cigarettes and beer.
"No, actually, I think I just found my reason for being here," she replied calmly as she eyed his body. He was big and meaty and Mandy groaned inwardly as she involuntarily began to get wet. He appeared to be in his mid to late thirties. Maybe just about ten years older than her twenty six years. The man loosened his grip on her arm then looked back at his group of pals and nodded once. He returned his attention to her and gave a confident smirk. He leaned down and lowered his voice to a whisper.
"We don't see yer kind round here much. No offense, but this place don't really seem like yer style," he said glancing down at her outfit. "Maybe you should head on home after all? I wouldn't wanna hear nothing bad happen to you out here all by yerself." Mandy looked up into his blue eyes and gave him her own smirk.
