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🥀🎥🍾From: THE PASSAGE FROM DECADENCE COLLECTION 2ND EDITION – The FILM Noir’ Within A Book🥀🎥🍾

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🥀🍾STELLA-ANN MAY HAVE LOVED HERSELF SOME MR. BART… BUT SHE WAS UNDER NO ILLUSION ABOUT HIS WEAKNESSES & OBSESSIONS OF LIFE & LUST!🥀🍾

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Copyright © 2020 by J.Z. Luciano 

Published by J.Z. Luciano

United States of America

Formatting and Book Design by Pink Moon Books

All rights reserved.

No part of this book or excerpt may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Chapter Seven

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March Madness

They say that March comes in like a lion and leaves like a lamb, but neither Stella nor Bart could have foreseen that the month of March would hurdle them deep into the prohibited and reprobative side of eroticism. These star-crossed lovers were on a collision course with sensual destiny, and pleasure was their co-pilot. Pleasure seekers, what can you say?

This point in our lover’s story delves scandalously and deliciously deeper into the sensually uninhibited and adventurous sides of our lover’s psyches and love life, and primal sanctuaries. It is where your more unlived desires can come to their full fruition and Bart and Stella were in way over their heads. The starry-eyed lovers simply overlooked the peril swirling around them, the likes of an invisibly viral plague.

The only thing these two sensualists could see was living out their fantasies. Danger was at every turn and neither Bart nor Stella-Ann was any the wiser, or they simply chose not to acknowledge it. It was not physical danger that the couple needed to fear. Oh no, it was the danger of losing one’s mind and soul in pursuit of erotic pleasure. The Ides of March were truly upon them, one more than the other, Stella-Ann.

Too bad, at that point in time, Bart and Stella could not see the forest before the trees. Because neither lover wanted to surrender the euphoric bliss tugging at their desires, the likes of a supernatural entity.

It was a warm Friday night in March, and spring fever was in the air all around our favorite libertines and pleasure seekers. I think, looking back, that it was just one of those nights that had a feeling of peculiarity.

 The moon was full, and the air was a warm kiss on the back of the neck like a lover that no one can see. And he brought with him all sorts of limitless sensual provocations and possibilities. The evening seemed perfect for mischief, and for Stella and Bart, mischief was a decadent overture to their darker misgivings (especially with Stella-Ann).

After a wonderful dinner at Blue Pointe, it was time for these two lovers to leave, but what were they going to do next? I think in their minds the time had come for them to“step down”, in order to “step up”. They were on a new path to primal glory, that now had them deeply rooted within each other erotically they were ready to take the next step.

There is a certain confidentiality that went unsaid between our soft libertines, one that said that their secrets were forever safe and sound. This, in and of itself, was extraordinary with two people as tough as Stella and Bart. They were the type of libidinous lovers who believed that knowledge was power, yet in this unspoken agreement, they had decided that discretion was the better part of valor.

Bart turned to Stella with a speculative look in his eyes and a smirk on his face, and posed the question, “So, what do we do now, or rather what kind of capricious consumption do we engage now?”

Stella smirked right back and answered with her deep, sultry voice.

“Well let’s see, Darlin’, what do you want to do, or rather how far down that rabbit hole are we willing to travel to feel the sting of stimulation and mischief?” Deep down she could not believe her own ears and mouth. But the untamed supernatural spirits and Georgia full moon. perfumed the air with enticement and wonderment.

“Well, you’re in charge of this evening’s festivities,” he answered, pulling Stella’s chair from the table, and bringing it closer to him. I think Bart enjoyed taunting with her emotions to see what type of reaction he could elicit. The glare in his eyes was that of a hungry lion, needing desperately to feed.

“This is your town, you’re in charge,” he murmured as he caressed her jaw line softly.

Stella knew that nothing could be further from the truth. Bart was in charge every step of the way. So, she thought, as a slight shudder went through her body at his touch, he wants to toy with my defenses, does he?

Very big mistake.

With the tab paid, the two began driving to their first destination of the night. Although they had no idea, this night would be a very, very long night and one that would live on in their minds for, literally, an eternity, because it would set the stage for the other erotic encounters to come. As they drove, the sexual undertones were made more apparent by the innuendoes that went back and forth between the two lovers. Things were getting sordid and enthralling by the minute.

As they flirted with each other, the idea of visiting a strip club came into the conversation.

Stella turned to Bart and stated, “I know that you’re used to the Platinum Club, but it’s out of business. A lot of the girls from there have moved to smaller clubs like the Pale Horse and Smashers.”

Bart interrupted her immediately, saying, “I won’t step foot in the Pink Prancer, for damn sure.’ I had a bad fucking experience there once.”  His hazel green eyes became stoic and dry, literally.

“What happened?” Stella asked. She couldn’t wait to hear his response because she knew that it would be worth it. Bart always had the most interesting stories and she knew that she wouldn’t be disappointed.

She was correct, as usual.

“I was in the VIP room with a girl who jacked me off and then passed out drunk,” Bart stated bluntly.

“Oh my God, you’ve got to be kidding.”  Stella laughed.

“No, I’m not. After she was done; she staggered out of the VIP room. I noticed that the entertainer had been gone for quite some time. Of course, I became a bit antsy and curious. Finally, the door guy waltzed over slowly to inform me that she had passed out in the fucking dressing room,” Bart said, laughing along with Stella. “I was pretty pissed, but it was fucking funny.”

Although he told the story with a chuckle, Stella knew that he was serious and that the Prancer Club was out of the damn question. In any event, Bart’s recounting of his experience kept her laughing, like crazy. “Well, let’s go to Smashers, it’s known for, shall we say, it’s entertainment in the VIP rooms. They’re very dark and you can’t see a damn thing,” Stella suggested with an unusual smirk on her face.

Bart looked at her curiously. “How do you know all of these things?” Giving her leg a gentle squeeze and tug; the gentleman leaned over to kiss the side of Stella-Ann’s warm and moist jawline. Next, he pinched her thigh as hard as he could. Ensuring she was paying attention.

She just smiled and tactfully changed the subject by giving him directions to the club. Bart allowed the subject change but gave himself a mental reminder to reproach the issue with her, again later. (Believe me…he was not about to let her off the hook). Neither did he fancy the idea of Stella-Ann having more awareness than himself. For a Dominant, like Master Bart, that notion had the maximum range of zero!  If only he knew?

The couple finally arrived at Smasher’s and had the valet park the car, who spoke to Stella, while Bart just watched. He was like the Arlington honor guard, watching and waiting. Stella knew, by the look on his face, that she would probably have to give an explanation before the night was over. She could tell he was beginning to wonder, how often she had been there, and more importantly, with whom.

Bart opened the door for Stella, and she stepped through the entranceway looking for a good place to sit. As she scanned the room, she heard a familiar nickname echoing from the other side of the entrance, by a Redhaired green-eyed middled-aged woman who immediately jumped too her feet and ran into her arms. “Oh my God, you look great” …she yelled with glee! Where have you been? It’s been too long,” the woman screamed.

“It’s good to see you too, Yvette,” Stella replied, returning the hug. As the two women embraced, Stella whispered in Yvette’s ear, “Listen, we’ll talk later, but I need you to not blow this for me.” She discreetly gestured toward Bart who was staring and taking all of it in. (Yvette was the girlfriend of an old Black Ops lover of Stella-Ann’s, discretion was everything).

 Yvette smiling coyly at him, said, “It was great to see you, but I have to get back to my table. Let’s talk soon.” With a parting glance at Stella, she disappeared into the crowd, like the ghost Stella knew her to be.

Bart looked at Stella questionably only, who pretended not to see it and made her way to the available seating.

Stella knew that her gig might be up, and that full disclosure would be her only recourse. The revelation of this notion sat itself deep within her lover’s glaring eyes. His curiosity was, almost, at a boiling point for answers. There really was nothing to her being known at by the gleeful woman and others at Smashers, however with a man like Bart, confession of those tightly held secrets was the only order of the day, but Stella would not make it easy for him. He would have to give to get. Because she knew his truth. Her left felt powerless…and despised it! And Stella-Ann wash his face in it, no matter how short-lived it would be

The couple watched the floor shows for a few minutes, admiring the physical dexterity of the joyful entertainers (they were in their element), but soon found the music too loud and the lights a bit too bright for their taste. There were a couple of young women who were nice looking, and then there were the others. My goodness! The venue had truly gone down, as far as, the quality of the entertainers was concerned. Stella could tell that this was not exactly Bart’s scene, nor was it hers…for that matter. She cleverly suggested to her bored lover that they pay the tab and head over to someplace else. Bart agreed immediately, and out the door they went, of course, with the wind under their sails. This night was nowhere near over!

While in the car, Stella, against her better judgment, turned to Bart and told him she knew of a place that he might enjoy.

“And what kind of place is this?” asked Bart.

“A place where a pretty and savvy entertainer could make quite the impression fast, and show us a very sensually fun time.,” she replied. That left brow of Master Bart’s raised itself, rather inquisitively. Oh boy.

“Well, let’s go,” he answered with a zeal that immediately made her uncomfortable. That cold chill left a yellowish red strip down her spine. Stella knew, intuitively, it was on. Perhaps this was a part of her world that she should keep from him, then again…maybe not.

After all, a woman should have some secrets and he already had questions, about so much. But, to his credit, the gentleman was curious as hell because he was smitten and taken by her. Taking him there would perhaps add fuel to the fire, but sometimes you gotta let a man burn. She knew that she should not do it, but she wanted to impress him and chose to throw caution to the wind. Stella, she could be far too daring sometimes; who the hell was bringing out whom? This should have been a question Stella asked herself, but no, she decided to overlook it, until later. (Forever pushing her lover’s limits) Ironically, when it comes to dominants the likes of Bart it is the best tool in the shed, to maintain control…no matter how dark and cynical.

Bart’s curiosity about this mysterious place almost got the best of him. He could see Stella struggling with the idea of taking him there and wondered what could cause her so much inner conflict. Her lover continually conditioned his mind to read Stella’s tea leaves, he did not want to miss a single clue. This only served as a catalyst for the festivities to come. Because make no mistake about it; Stella conditioned her mind from day one, to anticipate Bart’s every move. She was seldomly off her game. 

Stella confessed that she knew of a place called Barnyards which tickled Bart to no end.

“You’re kidding, right?” He laughed.

She smiled and told him that he would be entertained like a king there.

“In other words,” she told him, “you will have a crazy ass time in there. Look, this place is like a modern-day Versailles, under King Louis the fifteenth…or rather Louis the Beloved (that devilishly quick-witted woman). That was all Bart wrote…he was all in! I need to know that you can handle something like that.”  However, that smirk on her face said it all. Stella-Ann knew that Bart was an avid studier of modern world history. He adored King Louis…the beloved!

Bart, a man who has never backed down from an adventure, looked at her and asked for the directions. Stella knew that she had her answer and obliged.

“Well, it’s on Buford Highway.”

She would later learn that location wise; the Barnyard was on the money; it was in close proximity to Bart’s sumptuous and lofty mansion, but not too close. (Distance is nothing to dominants with insatiably carnal appetites). Stella-Ann would learn this fact…yet again. She forgot that a love crazed, ruthless, and power-hungry general crossed oceans, just to have and take her. And by force…for that matter! Needless to say, fate and destiny can be very possessive and feckless, at times. They would remind and send my Battle-Buddy number one a little reminder, of sorts. However, at that moment she was in her over glorified element. She never gave this notion a second thought. Stella-Ann was hungry for the sting and adventure.

“Well, let’s go by there for a minute,” he said calmly, throwing Stella off balance with his demeanor.

She asked once again if he was sure. He looked at her with one eyebrow raised, and said

“Yeah, it’s no problem. I can handle a place like that.”

She responded with a, “hmmm” and they were on their way. Bart aimed the car toward Piedmont road. Pleasure seekers, seeking pleasure, and only God knows what else.

When they arrived, the place was packed, but Stella had called ahead, and their table was reserved. Once again, Bart’s curiosity had been piqued, but he would not address it there. After all, there would be plenty of time to ask questions later. Still, he could not help wondering how well he really knew Stella. She had seemed so conservative when they first met, yet she had no problem following him into decadence and in this case, leading the way. He wondered, who was the master and who was the student?                                      

Chapter Eight

ENTER THE NO-LIMIT SOLDIER

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Now Stella was an astutely savvy woman who knew that she had to maintain control of things, at the Barnyard. She had no idea that the tide of change was just over the horizon and this night would set the stage for many other sultry and libidinous acts of seduction, right there at the Barnyard’s. These two lovers were on a mission this night. I think they would have stopped short of nothing to taste the dark side of the out of control fantasy, and they were in for a true litmus test, so to speak. They were too blind to see, and they liked it that way.

After the lovers had ordered their drinks, the entertainers began to swarm around and introduce themselves. There were women of every type; Chocolate and voluptuous, Asian, and petite, blonde, and busty, Latin, and curvy, with various combinations of them all. Some of the young women Stella knew, and some were new. Being a woman who likes to taunt with danger, she pushed the envelope and asked one of the entertainers to dance for Bart. The young lady, a Latina with a body made for sin, obliged. As she danced, Stella could tell that she really was not that talented, but Bart enjoyed it to the fullest.

Stella found herself feeling a little threatened by the girl and knew immediately that she had to go.

Smart girl.

As she sent her away, she could see Bart smirking at her, knowing exactly what she was thinking. It was then that she realized that this would be another skirmish fought on the battlegrounds of pleasure, and this time, she would have to show this arrogant SOB sitting next to her, that she plays to win. Win…loose… or draw!

Now, when would Stella ever learn? Bart was challenging her authority in the very place she needed to always keep in control, or at least give the appearance of control. She would never allow anyone, including Bart, to take her power from her here. He really should have known that Stella would never take anyone into an environment where she would not be able to control what happened. In this place called the Barnyard control by a woman with a guy was an absolute necessity. Stella was not a lightweight; she’d been playing this game for quite some time. The tenacious vixen needed to find someone who was willing to be used by her for the evening and the spoils of war would be hers.

In looking for her sensual catalytic converter, Stella-Ann began inviting other entertainers over, as choices. For Bart, or course. It worked like a charm. One little petite and confident little plaything named Nikki came over and danced a little bit for Bart. She was a sister, and Stella liked that, and her demeanor said that she would not pose an immediate threat. Stella was enjoying the game that she played with Bart and the girls, a delightful game of tug-o-war. She loved the feeling of absolute control because she knew that she had an ace up her sleeve, as always. How deliciously devilish of her!

Stella was an awfully close friend of the management team and owner. She made certain that every girl and patron knew that, on her word, any one of them could be fired or removed instantly. Management had briefed the girls on who she was (in reference to the owner) and that they were not to get out of hand or upset Stella in any way, to do so would be at their own peril. Stella reveled in the sheer power that she held over them. Because to often women and entertainers in these types of establishments; attempt to establish some sort of pseudo pecking order, she was not having any of that bullshit. Stella preference absolution. She either had power, or not…nothing short or in between that notion.

Now, this girl Nikki didn’t seem to care who was in charge, but she was smart enough to know that Stella controlled the flow of Master Bart’s money. Although Nikki didn’t dare to disrespect Stella, she was curious about the role she played in Bart’s life. Although Stella was apparently upwardly mobile, Bart’s very demeanor spoke of money and a lot of it, yet they were at Barnyards. It made a girl think.

Stella invited Nikki over again and they had a few minutes of conversation. After a couple of songs went by, Nikki once again started to dance for Bart. Now let me tell you, Stella does not get off on women, but this Nikki had her a little warm under the collar. She looked over at Bart, but she couldn’t see his face because Nikki was in his lap, legs clamped down on him in such a way that it was a wonder that he didn’t ejaculate right there. Stella could tell by the movement of his hips just how much he was enjoying the lap dance. She wondered if he was enjoying it too much, but they were having a good time and the drinks were flowing. What the hell? Right.

Bart and Stella decided to go to the VIProom, but with which girl? Bart wanted the Latina and Stella was having no part of it.

Stella waited until Bart had called her over, and when she got within four feet, she said, “No. We’ll get back to you.” She looked over and made eye contact with Nikki and made a simple gesture for her to come over. Nikki was all too willing.

“Hey, how would you like to go into the VIProom with us?” Stella asked.

“Sure,” Nikki replied, as though she would say no, but she couldn’t resist asking. “What happened to the other girl?” 

Stella turned to her and simply stated, “She tried to take away my control, she had to go.”

Nikki, laughing so hard, told Stella. “I understand.”  The two stared each other in the eye as Stella-Ann responded.

“Good. See that you do, and I will always ensure that the gentleman here with me…shall always take care of you.”

While the two women made their ladies’ agreement, Bart stood on the side taking in everything. His mind was working overtime, trying to figure Stella out and how he would continue to keep her on her toes.

After the ladies finished their conversation, Stella leaned over to Nikki and whispered.

“I need you to give him the best you’ve got. He needs to know who is in charge here, or I am in a damnable world of hopeless       fucking infatuation. Because Girl… this Mother Fucker here… ain’t no kind of a joke.” Stella and Nikki gave one another an extremely nervous chuckle. They knew instinctively the power Master Bart could will, at the drop of a hat. (Should he venture to do so.)

“Girlfriend, you know it’s all about us women folk.” Nikki nodded and led Bart into the room.

Bart turned questioningly to Stella, who merely smiled and said that she would be in shortly, she had to go to the restroom. Stella                                                                  knew exactly what she was doing, and they could not have picked a better VIP room. It had no direct view to or from the crowd.

When Nikki and Bart got into the room, Nikki wasted no time   and went straight to work. She helped Bart remove his suit jacket, which he did willingly in anticipation of what was going to happen next. He could have never, in his wildest dreams, imagined how turned on he was going to be by “Darling Nikki”. She sat straight up on his already slightly erect member and began to move her graceful body.

Her moves were deliberate, yet they looked unchoreographed to the untrained eye. They were vigorous, yet sensual. She was like poetry in motion to Bart and he felt himself responding to her. He began to rub her softly up and down her small torso. She was a beautiful girl with mocha skin that felt like silk that turned him on to no end. As the music became faster, so did Nikki’s moves. As she performed, she talked to him so that he felt more at home with her.

As Nikki did her thing, Bart began to wonder where Stella was. “She needs to be in here with me, experiencing this with me,” he said aloud.

Nikki smiled and told him that Stella would be there soon, and that he should just sit back and relax, which he did. Finally, Stella entered the room and Nikki looked up at her with a peculiar smile on her face and asked her where she had been.

Stella merely smiled and said, “Talking and hanging out with the management and door guys”.

Nikki knew that this was a display of power and lowered her head accordingly. Our girl Stella ain’t no fucking joke, either. Everyone said that she and Bart were equally match.

Stella waltzed straight over to Bart as Nikki continued her ministrations; leaned over to her Master Dominant and slowly kissed him, on the cheek. Then, with that same smirk that they often give each other, asked innocently, “Are you having fun?” Damn… how wickedly devilish.

At that same time Nikki did a particularly enticing move with her back that caused Bart to moan and answer, “Fuck, what do you think?” as his hands continued to caress Nikki’s body.

It was all Stella could do not to laugh. This was her kind of fun.

Nikki turned around and faced Bart and things started to heat up quickly. HOT, HOT, HOT!  That was the only way to describe what was going on in that room.

In one quick move, Bart pulled Stella down to him and kissed her, then gave Nikki a little peck. Stella was not pleased with him kissing Nikki, but no one could tell by her face. Nikki took the kiss and made it a catalyst for the rest of her act. Her nipples were erect and so was Stella’s. Bart took his hands and pinched the breast of each woman to make them aware of this and they were both a bit embarrassed by it, but no less turned on.

As time began to wind down, Nikki went for the goal. She moved her pelvis backwards and forward a little more quickly and Bart’s forehead became moist with the fervor he felt. The hairs on his chest began to creep out of his shirt and his eyes went back and forth between the two women, mesmerized. It was the ultimate arousal: Stella watching from a distance while a stripper gyrated on his erect member.

Those last few moments in the VIP room would leave its mark on these two lovers forever. The couple knew instinctively that together they had journeyed to a place of enigmatic wonder and sensual splendor, from which there was no return. The rest of this journey would write itself, for as long as the starry-eyed lovers were together.

Next, Nikki stood up and tried to turn around when Bart grabbed her by the neck. She turned to look at him over her shoulder smiling and frowning at the same time. She looked over at Stella and said, “Do you like it rough?”

Stella almost choked on her drink. “Why would you ask me that? He has never choked me. I wish the hell he would.”

She responded while looking at Bart, smiling. Bart’s eyebrow raised and she knew that it was on. The temperature was about to spike another one hundred degrees in that room.

“Bart”, Stella said, “let up on her neck.”

He obliged, but not much.

I think Nikki liked it, but she was afraid that Stella would be upset. If only she knew, Stella figured that it would be less work for her to do later. In Stella’s mind, Nikki and Bart’s little game was a little foreplay, not the main event.

Nikki continued her performance, but she reminded them that her time was almost up, but for Stella and Bart, she had one more party trick of her own. She placed her body, once again, right on the tip of Bart’s fully erect member. The only thing that kept them from complete penetration was Bart’s thick slacks and the fact that Stella was in the room. Nikki moved her body against his as though the two of them had been fucking forever. Bart, shivering and shaking, grabbed Stella by the hand and began to squeeze for dear life. His breathing became spastic, his heart rate and blood pressure soared, and then the moment of truth came. To this very day, Stella plays it over and over in her mind and it still manages to arouse feelings of passion in her.

Bart’s body shook so hard with the intensity of his orgasm that Stella thought that he was going to pass out. He flinched with a somewhat loud groan, and his eyes were closed tight as he bit down on his lip, hard. Nikki never stopped working her body. She continued to work her tight voluptuous silhouette in such a way that Stella could almost swear they were fucking. Her eyes grew large and glassy (from excitement and libations), as her heart raced like a speeding freight train. She wanted to ask him but was afraid and then the two of them made eye contact. Bart looked deep into those sparkling chocolate diamonds Stella call eyes, as she almost cried by what she witnessed there before her very eyes. Bart spoke silently with his pouty lips. “I love you, Stella-Ann”. His eyes were filled with watery tears. “I know” …Stella whispered back, with the cynical smile of a victorious Roman Trojan!  With one swift swoop Bart leaned sideways towards Stella. Mr. Dominant pulled his lover into him, spilling her drink everywhere on that sofa, and stuck his tongue as far down her throat as he could, kissing her for so long that it took her breath away. Literally!

Shortly afterwards, Bart released her, and Stella was flabbergasted. Looking back between Nikki and Bart, she didn’t know what to say to either one of them. She finally looked at Nikki and said, “DAMN! THANK YOU.”

Stella knew that she was ready to take it from there. She knew she had to move fast to not lose this night’s magic, but she couldn’t help asking. “Did you and she, uh, you know?”

Battle Buddy #1 dared herself not to ask the gentleman out right. Just implied it.

“No”, he replied, and she knew he was telling her the truth. Stella smiled and hugged him tightly. That boy dodged a bullet there. Too bad it would be so short lived.

She grabbed her handbag and turned to Nikki. Pulling out a substantial amount of cash, she pressed it into the dancer’s hand. When Nikki saw how much was there, she began to protest that it was too much, but Stella silenced her, saying,

“Honey, you deserve every bit of this fifteen-hundred dollars, this and more. I told you that I would take care of you.”

Finally, Nikki accepted the money, thanking Stella and Bart profusely. As the young beauty turned and exited the VIP room, Stella turned to Bart.

“Ready to go?” she asked him.

He nodded and off they went to do their own carnal dirty deeds.

Their next act would be the one that would unfortunately lead these pleasure-seeking nymphs back to Ms. Julia, both physically and psychologically. Julia, this fucking woman! She was like the bad penny of their love affair. That damn bitch popped up everywhere. Mr. Dominant and Stella-Ann was none the wiser of the impending doom barreling itself towards the lovers, at nearly two-hundred miles per hour. Bart was extremely attentive to Stella as they drove to their next destination. So far, it had been one of the most decadent nights the two had ever experienced. Even as they sat in the car driving, the two lovers were left in total disarray.

They were filled with a primal hunger that blotted out everything, but each other. What would it take for this lustful urge and need to be satisfied? Bart decided, at that very moment, that he would take over the rest of the evening. I think this is the reason he had tuned in to her so intensely that night. You know, to give her that galvanizing kiss: which appeared to have brought her back to life. He knew that he had to be strong and assertive, to make Stella more comfortable with the idea of watching him with another woman, especially Julia. No matter how polite or beautiful the woman may have been. His mindset was this… a vixen…is a vixen.

Bart planned to use Julia as a training tool in his relationship with Stella. Little did he know that his little plan would fail, as their hearts became entwined within this strange paradox. Julia would have a heavy hand in making their primal world and their need for control connect into one interactive and interconnected circle, and she would do it without our pleasure seekers. Stella knew this, and she would allow it because she wasn’t through with Ms. Julia. Oh no, she’d have her fucking revenge. However, for just this one night, Nikki had to do. She had been just the right appetizer before the main course. Stella herself, planned to be the object of all Bart’s attention on this night. Revenge could wait.

Stella realized she had plenty of time to show Julia, how she handles business. Yes, she’d take her own sweet time to plan this just right. Julia would learn, Stella’s motto was, “nous sommes prest” …we are ready!  Stella-Ann had an army at her fingertips, always. Julia would pay and pay dearly!

Chapter Nine

HIDDEN PERILS

B

By now, knowing Stella, peril is something she faced head on, consequences be damned. Her curiosity always got the better of her, and intuition flew out the window. Besides, Stella felt that adventure was nothing without one entity: the element of peril. Why? She needed to feel the sting, in order to feel alive. Bart’s ex-wife had their daughter for the weekend, so he invited Stella over for cocktails, and conversation by the pool. From there they would plan the rest of their evening. That Saturday started out like any other, but its end would be anything but ordinary. As he fixed her a gin and tonic, they discussed where they should go for dinner.

“What about Bone’s?” suggested Stella.

“The steaks are excellent. You know Buckhead is hopping right about now.”

If Stella thought for one moment that her first decadent encounter in the Barnyard would be her last, she was either in denial or completely blind to the peril that lay ahead of her. The beau (Bart) glaring with intrigue across from her responded with rapid opposition, to any of her suggestions. She could feel the tingle in her gut. Stella-Ann’s Emotional Intel was baiting her to retreat and digress…better yet take your ass home. Of course, she didn’t listen.

“Buckhead on a Saturday night? Traffic will be murder,” Bart replied, shaking his head.

Stella said nothing for a few seconds, keeping her thoughts private. I think deep down in that hidden emotional fortress of hers she knew where the night would take them. Finally, as Stella took in a deep breath of confidence, she gave Bart her retort.

“Well, you’ve vetoed every idea I’ve had.”

Careful girl, that is his provocation.

“Where would you like to eat?”

“I don’t know. Let’s just go to Barnacle’s,” he said.

OOOHHH, HELL NO HE DIDN’T!

Stella agreed, pretending, of course, to not notice the proximity of Barnacle’s to the damn Barnyard. A strange sort of chill raced down her spine, yet again she ignored her inner voice. Trust me when I say, this woman knew and felt the eminent peril lying in wait before her. Instead of changing the course of the evening, Stella had been overruled by her own overzealous curiosity. When will this woman ever learn? Then again, was she just as curious about Bart, and how far these two lovers would push the preverbal reprobative envelope? Only the night’s ending would tell, and it would be a doozy. Once Stella made that revelation mentally, there was not a force on earth that would stop her, scary thought. She had to follow the breadcrumbs.

“Fine, I love the food there,” she agreed and continued to sip her drink.

Shortly after finishing their drinks and wrapping up their light conversation, about nothing really, they were off to eat, destiny only knew what the hell else.

Barnacle’s was a quiet little place off the beaten path: which the lovers frequented often. As usual, the seafood was excellent, and the conversation was even better. Bart was even funnier than usual, yet Stella couldn’t wait for the meal to be over. Her thoughts kept revolving around the idea of getting Bart back to his home and into that California King bed. She had decided that she would have him in his bed this one night, not some strange hotel room, as in the past. Controlling her eagerness to leave was about to get the best of her, but she held it in. There was no need to allow him to think her overly anxious. She remained cool, on the outside of course.

Bart, on the other hand, was restless. His Spidey Senses were up, and he was trying to radio in on some decadent fun. Stella watched him carefully and knew that something was up. Would this be another night that would try her in every way possible or one of passion shared by only two people?

I think she knew that he was going to need a little outside stimulation but didn’t want to admit it.

Stella purposely ignored Bart’s true intentions, for what reason no one really knows but her. She realized that, once again, she would have to give to get. Little did the Diva realize how much she would have to give before the night was over. Stella was too fixed on her destination to pay attention to the perilous journey she was getting ready to undertake.

Instead she stared deep into her lover’s eyes with a look that bedazzled him. Stella’s gaze not only calmed Bart but seemed to pump his courage a little. As a result, he made his move straight away.

“Let’s go by the Barn, for a nightcap before we head back,” suggested Bart casually.

Stella stared at him. Was he serious?

“Why?” she asked. “What’s going on there?” Her voice nearly cracked from the weight of curiosity.

He looked at her with his usual smirk and replied,

“That’s what we’re going to find out. You’re up for it, aren’t you, Baby?” he inquired rather coyly.

Stella knew a challenge when she heard one and rose to the occasion. “I am, the question is, are you?”

“Nikki was only gentle with you, on my say so. Be under no illusions about that fucking place, Bart.”

“This time, I may not be so kind.”

“You are testing me, yet again.” Bart only glared at the side of her face for stating such facts openly, and without hesitation. Deep within Stella’s voice was her possessive bitch (PTSD), and she was riddled with something awful sinister, and the hidden entity was baiting her lover to try her. Damnation!      

Bart merely laughed, paid the tab and they were on their way.

As Stella looked back on that evening, she wondered if he purposely chose Barnacle’s because of its proximity to the Barnyard? It was just the type of thing he would do, all the while pretending to be innocent. Bart was fucking clever and cunning, and Stella knew it. Many in their inner circle believed she got off with the knowledge of this fact. Finally, the pleasure seekers arrived at the Barnyard. Once inside the couple waltzed straight to the back and seated themselves, close to the bar. Stella wondered what this night would bring. The answer would come in the form of a pint-sized half Asian, and half Belgian girl named Malicia.

Their waitress came over and the couple ordered their usual champagne splits when they saw her: four-feet-three-inches tall, dressed in a white Oxford shirt tied at her stomach, short plaid mini-skirt, knee socks and Mary Janes. She wore black cat-eyeglasses and glossy, pouty pink lips.

She may have been small, but this girl exuded a sensuality that whispered, try me, if you dare. Yet, proceed with caution. Yeah, that bitch had this written all over her fucking pint-sized ass.

Bart watched the girl with interest and Stella watched him. Playing with danger, she called her over and the three chatted for a few moments. As the trio engaged in conversation., the two women probed each other subtly, to see where each one stood. Malicia seemed to pick up on Stella’s uneasiness, although our girl is one cool customer. Stella sensed in Malicia a hidden agenda that would eventually reveal itself. With this knowledge she knew to watch Malicia closely and stealthy. Stella could tell she wanted something from her, but she would wait her out. Stella-Ann just hoped time was on her side. Clairvoyantly, she could sense the impending doom and peril driving toward her like an out of control freight-train.

Now let me state for the record, it is a harsh world that pleasure seekers live in. It is one thing to give chase to fantasy, but another to have to share it with others to bring it to its full fruition. On this night, Stella would have to share more than a fantasy; she would, once again have to share a part of Master Bart with another woman.

There was a part of him that she could only reach through other women and she was determined to get there. She would use this girl as she had used Nikki. The question she should have asked herself was who was using whom?

Stella asked Malicia to dance for Bart, and she obliged all too willingly. The pint-sized siren’s engagement started with a simple damn table dance, from hell. She seized Bart’s attention from the very beginning. Stella tried to talk to him as the dancer performed, but he never heard a word she said. He was completely gone, mesmerized by Alicia’s gyrating body. Malicia hopped onto his lap and performed moves that would have had any man in tears with joy. She turned to look at Stella and caressed her face gently. Bart, turned on by this act, thought that maybe she was a little bi-sexual, but Stella knew better.

Fucking bitch, Malicia.          

She knew that this was the equivalent of being slapped with a glove, a challenge in the old-world style.

The look Malicia gave Stella said, “you may have come here with him, but I have him now and I’ll have him in the end.”

Stella merely smiled, removed Malicia’s hand from her face, and said, “Oh no, not me, darling. It is all for him. Malicia could tell from the steel in Stella’s voice that she had better tread lightly. As for Bart, he really could not have given a damn what was going on between these two, if Malicia continued what she was doing.

Truthfully, Stella could have gone home right at that moment, and he would not have noticed. He only had eyes for Malicia, and her carnal reprobation.  Fucking Damnation!

Chapter Ten

A THREAT MATRIX EMERGES

L

ittle did Stella realize that more than women of color, Bart loved Asian women, erotically. Stella had a choice: stay, and attempt to regain some control over the situation, or leave the two of them and accept defeat. She really wanted to leave, but her pride refused to give up this fight. She would later wish that she had just left. She felt as though Tennessee Williams had captured her in one of his plays. She was Maggie in Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. How long does a cat stand on a hot tin roof? As any brass southern belle knows, for as long as she can.

Stella became Ms. Stella and her brassy nails were out and ready to scratch back. She knew Malicia had her hidden agenda and she was more determined than ever than to figure it out. She watched her carefully and wondered what she had to gain from all of this. Bart was out of her league socially, so what was it?

As she sat there, she remembered the saying, “The best way to trap a tiger is through its cubs. She remembered a few rumors she had heard about a stripper named Malicia and knew that they had to be one and the same. If so, she had devised a most diabolical plan. It would take time to develop and unfold.

Stella smiled to herself and thought, I have plenty of time.

For now, though, she would play the hand she had been dealt and would play the consummate idiot to the end. Yes, Malicia had a good plan, she would give her that, but she had never played with Ms. Stella. She would learn: Young ones can run a race, but it’s the older ones that know how the race is run. Stella had learned from the best of them and she would reign triumphant, one way or another.

Stella, in a move to regain control, suggested, “Let’s move into the VIP room.”

Unfortunately, this act would work in Malicia’s favor, not hers. Well, at least for that moment in time. Stella-Ann always played a straight hand, and long game.    

The Asian beauty went into that room armed and taking only one prisoner: Bart. With malevolence in her heart, Alicia’s goal was to utterly humiliate Stella, by demonstrating how easily her man could be taken from her by a woman Stella considered beneath her.

This evening would prove to be just the wakeup call Stella needed to get herself back in gear. For too long, she had been made to feel comfortable and safe in her little world. Alicia’s little show would get her attention and put her on notice. It would be the one act that kept Stella from closing all access exits completely. She would have been a fool to do so, for her armor cracked before the strike of midnight. She needed to wake up before then.

Malicia wasted no time in getting things underway. Before Stella knew it, Bart had taken off his jacket and made comfortable in preparation for the evening’s festivities. It was a sign of the peril that was to come. Bart and Malicia never took their eyes off each other. It was as though they were the only two people in the room, and in a way, they were. Stella could see the writing on the wall, and she was defenseless against this one act of, shall we say hedonistic treason.

That bitch would be nothing but trouble, going forward.

Bart belonged to Malicia now, and Stella would feel the impact and emptiness of this for the rest of her relationship with Bart. Okay, maybe not quite that long, but long enough. Her trust in him, already damaged by his tryst with Julia, was again fractured and this only made the crack deeper.

She would try to trust, but she knew that when it came to pretty young things, Bart had no willpower and she would forever have to take a backseat while he was in the presence of one of these women. That was a total, no-go. This was totally unacceptable to her, and she would exhaust all her efforts trying to convince Bart to change his way of thinking, but on this night she would fail. She simply had to ride out the duration of the evening. Still, you could tell that something was on her mind.

Now, truthfully, this simply would not do for a woman like Stella. She realized that she would have to take drastic measures to ensure that her relationship with Bart would never be threatened again. She was Ms. Stella in full effect, and all had better sit up and take notice. Although she was in the room mentally, emotionally she had placed herself on lockdown. If she had not, she could not have ever gotten through the scene with Bart and Malicia. The task all but ripped her apart, yet it never showed on her face. She was determined to maintain her dignity at any cost. Those brassy-assed southern belles, they will never, ever allow an enemy to see them crack. It is simply not their way.

Bart and Malicia were so into each other that they barely noticed Stella presence. She just sat there, once again watching her power being stripped away little by little, and moment to moment. Stella knew that Malicia was determined to humiliate her, and she swore that she would get this little bitch if it was the last thing she did. In the end it would be exactly that: the last thing she would do.

Malicia, in one fluid gesture, took off her glasses and stared deeply into Bart’s eyes. It worked like a charm; he was finally all hers. The room was silent except for the throbbing bass of the music and Stella realized that she was just a third wheel, completely invisible to her man. Inside, she seethed with anger. They would pay for this indignity soon, but for now, she simply went along with the program.

Malicia began to bait Bart by asking him to pull her hair and he obliged her. The excitement was written all over his face.

She toyed with him even further, whispering in his ear, “Don’t be gentle. I like it rough.”

Stella almost fell to the fucking floor. She knew then that Malicia had talked to Nikki to find out what turned Bart on. Why? Stella still didn’t know why. She looked over at Malicia and stared the entertainer eye to eye. Stella did not allow her fear to surface, but underneath it was scattering about in a wild frenzy. Stella knew she had to say or do something to break the tension of her own inner spirit. She was aware of what this girl was up to, and she did not want to feed her ambition, which had already taken to many liberties on this night. There was only one way to do this, boldly and with craftiness.

“Malicia, what are we paying you for?’ Stella and her moments of abject vanity can floor you sometimes.

“You need to work him like you have never worked a client before.” Malicia frowned as grew angrier and angrier. The young dance caught Stella-Ann’s sleight. The woman was mocking her performance. Basically, calling her nothing more than a whore off the damn street.

Ooohhh, boy.

“He is a lawyer by trade girl, you gotta show him what you work with.”

“Don’t worry about me I got this shit.” Stella’s giggle was an even deeper dig into the Malicia’s side.

“We’ll deal with that later.”

“You need to give us our money’s worth tonight. Girl.”

What the fuck Stella?

“You need to go for all the gold in the pot.” She snickered again.

“After all it is what you’re paid to do.”  Dammit girl, you just stirred the hornets’ nest.

Stella smiled and leaned backward, taking a strong sip of her drink, which by that time, was nowhere near strong enough….

Malicia had not counted on this and faltered for a moment. She quickly recovered, gave Stella a fake smile and began to grind a bit harder. She positioned herself in his lap with each leg dangling off each side, letting her hair flow down her back, effectively blocking Stella’s view. She then went for the gold and popped her breast into Bart’s mouth. He bit down on her nipple and began to suckle it like a baby receiving a mother’s milk. She sat on his erection that was straining against the cloth of his trousers. That little girl worked her body something terrible, bending backward and coming forward to receive as much of him as she could through his pants. She had every intention of giving him the ultimate climax right there in that room.

Bart was totally mesmerized by the actions of Malicia’s body. Stella, on the other hand, was filled with a white-hot rage that a cool façade hid perfectly. She couldn’t wait to put her plan into effect on this bitch.

It was fucking on.

Malicia continued moving and taunting Bart’s body. She turned herself around and repositioned herself onto him, and then she bent down and touched her ankles.

Bart’s eyes followed the slope of her back.

Stella could see that Bart was envisioning his home and all the places he could fuck Malicia, including that California King. That was the place she should be in his mind, not Malicia.

Stella, being of quick wit, decided she would break Bart’s train of thought. It was truly an act of desperation. She decided that she had better get some type of dialog going in that VIProom, or she would simply burst wide open at the seams.

In a bold move, Stella began to question Malicia about her past, and why she wanted to become a stripper. “Tell me Malicia, what made you decide to get into this sorted type of business? Do you have a pimp, or did your man make you do this for a living? I’m curious.”

If looks could kill, Stella would be either seriously wounded or dead on the spot. That Asian babe shot a stare at her that was riddled in pure anger and disbelief.

The disbelief being that Stella actually had the balls to ask her those questions in front of a man, thus breaking a cardinal rule among all women. It has always been a written rule that womenmust never make such inquiries in front of the male specie, but what she failed to realize is that Stella was, and will always be, a rule breaker.

Stella really didn’t care whether Malicia answered the questions or not. She only wanted to break the silence and Bart’s train of thought.

Stella, Stella. You’ve got to give her credit for trying. It worked, but only for an instant. I think the other two knew what she was up to, but they were too wrapped up in each other for Stella to be more than a bothersome gnat.

Bart’s single-minded attention gave Malicia all the power she needed, but Stella still would not be undone. She knew the night belonged to Bart and Malicia, but they had just awakened the sleeping giant, and she wasn’t happy. She couldn’t lose her cool—that was just what Malicia wanted from her. If there is one thing Stella can do, it is be cool under pressure. This evening would be an opportunity to gather information about her opponent. I believe Winston Churchill said it best when he said, “Know your enemy.” Stella would watch, learn, and ultimately destroy her. With mayhem in mind, she watched, preparing a dish of destruction to be served up cold.

Their time in the VIProom was ending, yet Malicia still wasn’t finished. She had gone way beyond the typical lap dance and VIP sex fantasy. She was literally fucking Bart. The only thing holding back full penetration was the fact that he was wearing pants. She moved off him, knelt in front of him and began to nibble on his erection through the cloth. Bart jumped like he had been stimulated by an electric shock. It might as well have been. As he sat there panting, she scaled his body with her long, thin fingers and grabbed his shirt, pulled herself up and once again topped his hardness with her moist body.

Stella sat there taking in the entire thing. Her lover was fucking a stripper right in front of her like she wasn’t there. She never changed her expression of amused interest, but inside her heart and soul began to harden. She knew what she had to do. Part of her felt a twinge of pity for Malicia, and then she looked her in the face. Malicia was enjoying herself. Her expression was one of total pleasure as she slid her gaze toward Stella and smiled that slow lazy lover’s smile. Stella smiled also, but for a completely different reason; she knew that she was about to destroy Alicia’s entire world.

It was now time for Malicia’s “coup d’état,” the move that would declare her the winner of the evening’s games. She once again grabbed Bart’s collar and lifted herself up and came back down on his manhood so hard that all he could do was gasp. That Asian little thing worked him like he was the pole and she was on stage.

Bart was mad with passion and all but burst with ecstasy.   And Stella still sat there, watching, waiting. All she wanted was for this episode to be finished, so she might begin her plan for revenge. It was what fueled her now, not love, not lust, just pure, unadulterated revenge.

Finally, Malicia brought the horrific episode to a close. With one last clamping down of her diminutive thighs, she slowly extracted her body from Bart’s and smiled.

Bart sat there twitching, shivering and moving his head back and forth, trying desperately not to ejaculate, but to no avail. There was already a little bit of cum staining the front of his pants.

That was all Malicia needed to see. She smiled a very self-satisfied smile to herself.

He smacked his hands against the wall and the sofa, while his legs were stretched out in front of him, trembling. In the back of his mind, he remembered Stella, but it was too late. He should have thought of her from the beginning, not at the end. It was of little consequence to Stella, who just looked on, with a smile, of course.

Bart once again smacked the sofa with all his might and both women knew that the escapade had ended. He stood up looking wild and bewildered. He grabbed Malicia and moved her out of his way and went to Stella. He grabbed her and pulled her to him, but she was not pliant to his touch.

She just stood there and wondered if she should even bother to ask. Eventually, curiosity got the better of her. She glanced at him, asking, “Bart, did you, um, cum?”

“No,” he replied. “But I was so fucking close.”

Stella realized he was lying to her but decided to let it go; her revenge would come soon enough. She looked at him, and then smiled and they both knew that it was time to go.

Bart then looked at Malicia, who was adjusting her clothing with a look that Stella knew all too well. He was hooked on little Ms. Malicia. To Stella she was just another fly in the ointment. She would have to deal with her hard, cold, and straight. Trust me, this was Stella’s specialty.

Bart excused himself to go to the men’s room to straighten up and left money with Stella to tip Malicia. As he exited, Stella turned to the girl with a smile. “So, excellent performance. Bart truly enjoyed it, thank you.”

“It’s always my goal to please my customers,” Malicia replied.  But tell me, what did you think of my dance?”

“It was, something else,” Stella said noncommittally, watching the girl.

“Where was this conversation going?” Stella wondered and asked quietly to herself.

“Well, I’ve had some excellent teachers here. I was trained by a girl named Julia, perhaps you’ve heard of her?” Malicia replied, looking at Stella.

So that was it. Malicia was affiliated with the infamous Ms. Julia. Stella smiled that smile of hers and handed the money to Malicia.

“I’ve heard her name in a couple of places. Now, you need to ask who has heard of me. I think you’ll find the stories interesting, my dear.” Stella turned to pick up her purse and looked back at her “Have a good evening and thanks again,” she said, dismissing her.

Malicia stormed off and Stella sighed. The battle had begun. Didn’t matter. Because the only person who will win this war would be Stella-Ann, only.

Bart returned and they departed the club. Stella turned to him as they walked to his car, shook her head and smiled. It was a smile full of sarcasm and great disbelief. However, Bart was so enraptured with what had happened that he never noticed.

On the ride home, something happened that Stella could have never anticipated. Bart began to talk about what had happened that night and to compare Alicia and Nikki. Stella looked him in his face, totally dismayed. He couldn’t get over how intense things had been or how decadent things were getting between Stella and himself. As, he talked, Stella wondered exactly where she fit into this erotic mix. She was unaware that the answer was just around the bend. I mean, literally, around the bend.

They finally arrived at Bart’s house, and Stella was feeling tired and emotionally drained. Since it was quite late, Bart invited her in to rest for a while. She just wanted to leave. She couldn’t bear the sight of him for one more moment, but she was a bit tipsy and the drive home would be a long one. She finally gave in and Bart led her to the sofa in his living room.

Looking back, says Stella, she could tell that Bart knew she was upset, and it showed all over his face. He began to put forth an effort, and Stella noticed, remembering something her mother said: “Power you take, respect you earn.” They would be words to live by, for the duration of her relationship with Bart.

They began to talk, and Stella started to feel a little more at ease, although nothing on this earth could ever ease her lust for revenge. She heard every word Bart said, but she was still determined to make her power felt and known. Bart just continued talking, totally clueless to the storm brewing inside the woman sitting next to him.

Stella decided to let only her lighter side show. She was a master at hiding her true self, because she knew how truly fragile it was. She began telling him interesting little tidbits about her friends and business associates. As they laughed together and sobered up a little, Bart decided to go upstairs, and he dragged Stella behind him. She resisted a little, only to have him tug a little harder on her hand. She wanted him to have to work to get her up those stairs every step of the way. She knew that he would be triumphant, and that he would stop at nothing to bring his desires to their full fruition, even if it took dragging her by force. One way or the other, she was going up those stairs, with or without his help and she knew it.

They arrived at the master suite as Bart went in and placed Stella in the chair next to his bed, then turned down the linens. As she sat there, she began to have that little lost look on her face. Oh, she tried to play it cool by placing her hand against her chin and looking vaguely bored, but Bart was far too cunning to be fooled by it. He pulled her into his arms, cupped her chin, and kissed her lips ever so softly for what felt like a wonderful eternity.

Stella’s blood began to rush, and her heart rate seemed to speed up tremendously. She could feel the room start to spin a little as he leaned back and smiled at her. He once again started to lead her somewhere, and this time she docilely followed.

 He placed her gently on the bed and began to peel off her clothing piece by piece, all the while gently kissing her already heated flesh. It was a most delicious form of torture. Stella could feel his hardened masculine member, literally, throbbing through his trousers. The anticipation of what was coming stirred the very air around our two lovers. Who would come out the victor, and who would concede defeat? In actuality, it would be neither.

Bart finally had Stella undressed, leaving on only her thigh-high fishnet stockings. She was toast and she knew it. As the two stared deeply into one another’s eyes, she could only see the erotic scenes between him and Malicia. It grabbed ahold of her memory and would not let go. Bart had a remedy for that. His next move would snap her back into the scene that they were about to play out in that room. He kissed her between her breasts as his strong hands slid slowly up to her neck, while she shivered with pleasure. Nothing but red heat raced across her moist and tender flesh. He kissed her behind her ear while cupping her right breast, kneading it gently.

Next, Bart bent down and bit her erect breast, that were looking like round and ripe casaba melons. Malicia, was a distant thought, at that moment. Good thing for him.

Bart’s touches became more purposeful and vigorous with each passing second. Stella-Ann, and his lust for her was his only focus. She practically lost her mind, as something deep within her began to stir wildly, looking for release. Wanting him desperately was just a needful thing, to sooth her rage and disappointment. Moreover, her eyes spoke to Bart in that esoteric lingo the two knew all too well. Her eyes said take me now, as her sharp nails punctured Bart’s smooth and sexy flesh.t you, of all people, know how I feel about that.”

“Don’t think for a moment that I wouldn’t want this, but for me the power of control meant more.”

At the end of the day its truly how a motherfucker conducts himself under pressure, and how he treats me, the entire duration.” Stella’s jaw tightened like a fucking brace. But she carried on with the damn drama.

 “I knew that he would never live up to my expectations as gentleman, or my standards as a mate.”

“Yet, somewhere deep down inside me, I managed to hold out hope.”

“Please don’t misunderstand me; Bart has many beguiling masculine traits, but very few of them are those of a true southern gentleman.” Finally, she allowed herself a slight chuckle to lighten her mood.

 “To put it simply, he is an extraordinary lover but, unfortunately for him, his weakness for young women overwhelms all else that is good.” I could offer up nothing verbally, for my Battle Buddy. Just a nod or two to ensure her I was engaged upon her every word.

“You and I both know that I need more than that to make a serious relationship worth my while because, at the end of the day, it’s all about me.”

I sat there waiting for her to break down with tears, or to cry out in anger. She did nothing of the sort; soldier girl took a sip of her toddy and calmly settled herself deeper into her seat, once again. If you looked closely enough, you could see the rage on her face, yet she still managed a smirk as she rolled back the tears from her eyes. A woman like Stella did not dare shed a tear over something like this at least not in public. Any other woman would have cried her eyes out. Not Stella. Her mind was fixed on the bigger picture. I could tell that a changing of the guard was at hand. Bart, Malicia, and their cohorts were going to pay, and they were going to pay big time. In my eyes, this is where her situation became more intriguing. It was my turn to push the envelope.

 I had learned this skill from the brutal relationship taskmaster herself, Stella-Ann Kelly.

I leaned forward with my eyes posted at attention, never blinking once. I raised my hand and made a motion for her to continue with her story, but only with the truth. We were facing off, whether we realized it or not. We had finally come to that place where, through rhetoric, the answers to many, many puzzling questions about Stella and Bart would finally reveal its hidden truth. Up until this point, I had never known what the ax to grind was between her, Bart and Malicia. This was a giant enigmatic puzzle and I couldn’t wait to hear it. With that said, I relaxed a bit in my chair and prepared my mind for the information that it was about to receive. I had to hear the information that, she for so long had been withholding.

Stella obliged me in her own not-so-subtle manner. Oh, she was graceful as usual, but her calmness. Well, it was unsettling. I knew that my friend needed to have her say before the court of public opinion and that opinion began and ended with me. Her demeanor changed slowly as did her words as she began to speak.

Of course, Stella went into detail with her story, starting at the very beginning. She began to tell me how she masterminded the pushing of the envelope. Too this very day, I am in awe of that girl’s brazenness. It is as if Mr. Bart was her diving board into that dark abyss, she calls her psyche.

“Darling, it began two weeks ago, on a Monday night at. I went in to have a friendly chat with our little friend, Malicia. I had her pegged from the word go. That is one of the reasons I ignored her stupid ass after the first time I laid eyes on her; I knew this bitch would be nothing but a constant thorn in my side.’

“Furthermore, I realized that she was from the streets and had the savvy that goes with it. She was so damned smart, she outwitted herself. She was a means to an end for me, but she and I both bought our lessons. It was just a question of what we would learn from them, and how we would deal with it in the end?”

“Now, as for myself, I can’t say that I acted without any malice, well, at first. At that time, my objective was parallel to my own intent. I wanted answers, and I wanted them fast. So, I devised a little plan of deception that infamous night in the VIP room.”

“Or so I thought.”

“Those two didn’t realize it, but they had awakened a sleeping giant. Trust me; you know what I do for my government secretly. It the end, I would say they got off easy, but not before learning and feeling the wrath of a true woman scorned. I needed retribution for what they did to me emotionally. In other words, I was out for none other than HEADS ON THE CHOPPING BLOCK.” Her mindset was shifting into full speed ahead with every word of her narration.

By this time, I no longer recognized the beautiful brassy Southern belle that sat before me. She had become this dark avenging agent provocateurof revenge,who resurfaced with an agenda in hand. It didn’t matter that she had been on hiatus; her secret cloak and dagger image would surface just long enough to avenge her ego.

You see, Stella’s identity has always been a secret. She belonged to Langley, but the way she moved in and out of certain circles left those around to draw only one conclusion, she was what was known as a “sleeper”. She only surfaces every now and again, as her country needs her. The one thing that can be said for assets of her caliber: They are great at what they do, but their personal lives are seriously dysfunctional. It is, unfortunately, a common attribute within her tight-lipped community. No way. I am not equipped like Stella-Ann, for that bullshit.

By now her focus was on the place where she was reliving the trauma of that night. All I can say is that I could feel the depths of my friend’s pain. Nothing else could have brought her out of the “spy closet” so easily. The only thing worth blowing her cover, in her mind, would be the salvation of her huge ego. She felt that she had something to prove to everyone around her, including the elusive Mr. Flynn, but more about him later.

“Well,” she stated calmly, “I finally did it. I found both of that heffa and son-of-a-bitch out for the scoundrels they truly were. Neither one of them is worth the fucking ground they walk on but, worse than that, they underestimated me terribly.” Stella had a bad habit of tapping hard surfaces when she was upset. Her fingers, nearly, penetrated the rod-iron patio table.

“How?” I inquired diligently.

She stared at me and gave me a terrible frown.

“Do not play with me today, you know how.” I recanted as I pushed that fucking envelope.

“After that first encounter in the VIProom with that bitch, I knew she would be trouble for me and the last thing I needed was some scanty-assed bitch like that tampering with my agenda.”

“I knew, however, that she would be the tool that I would use to put Bart to the test, as well.’

“Sure, it was risky business, but I was going for all the gold in that pot at the end of my rainbow.”

Stella signaled for the waitress to take another drink order. She still seemed calm in a rather spy novel manner, and that made me uneasy. This simply meant that she was a quietly ticking bomb, and great peril was at hand. I didn’t know if I wanted to stay or if I wanted to go but, as with any woman, I was curious. I wanted to know what had happened at the Barnyard that night before, and Stella was taking her own sweet time telling me.

The waitress finally arrived at our table and asked us if we needed anything. Stella looked up at her and froze: The waitress, unfortunately, was Asian. Did not help my Battle Buddy’s mood, too say the least. She was a sweet girl, but she was the last thing that Stella needed to see. I intervened before Stella could say anything and she beamed those dark eyes on me like a death ray. If she could have drawn blood right then, she would have. I shook my head at her, letting her know that this was not the time for her to assert her revenge on the world. She needed to stay focused on the two people who had hurt her. I basically reminded her to keep her eye on the ball. She did not like it, but she calmed down and regained her focus.

“Okay,” she said in a very authoritative voice, “Go ahead and order a good strong drink for yourself and you know what I’ll have.”

I frowned and looked at her as if I were baffled.

“I really don’t know what to order for you today, because this person in front of me is not Stella, so, order your own drink, goddammit.” Of course, I trembled just a tad. Stella looked at me with those piercing eyes and simply smirked.

“I’ll have a double scotch neat, top shelf, McCallan 18,” she told the waitress without breaking our eye contact. Shit. I knew that it was on then. She drank scotch often, but a fucking double. Yeah, something big had happened and the story was about to be told by this woman scorned, this bitch with a chip weighing so heavily on her shoulder.

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