The Haunted Bracelet

She couldn’t believe she was in a pawn shop. Something had drawn her in. A silver bracelet in the window. The man behind the counter startled her.

“Guy left that bracelet more than a year ago. You know what he told me? He said it was possessed. Ha! Possessed. Said it came from Isadora Duncan’s grave. What bullshit! What I see is unique. I’ll let you have it for three-fifty.”
“I’ll give you two-fifty.”
The man behind the counter was frowning. “I can’t go any lower than two-seventy-five. Look lady, you can see quality here. It’s got to be over a hundred years old!”
Susan studied the bracelet. The bells were all different. One was round, one was kind of square and one was triangular. She shook it and listened. It was almost like a melody. She handed the man her credit card.
Wednesday morning Susan was meeting with her client Meg Harris and her brother Roger who was a contractor and was all buff and tan from working in the sunshine. The final papers were going to be signed and the ex-husband was on the verge of exploding and would have had not Roger stood up to him.
Meg Harris hugged Susan and Roger offered his hand. “I want to thank you for everything you did for Meg. I was wondering if you might have dinner with me next week end?”
Susan tipped her head up. “I’m free next Saturday. Why don’t we meet at the Wine Cellar? Say Seven-thirty?”
Roger grinned. “Is that the place on Prescott?”
Susan nodded.
“Okay. I’ll see you then. Thanks again.”
Punctuality was paramount to Susan so it was no surprise that she walked into the restaurant at exactly seven-thirty. The host informed her that her guest had not yet arrived. She was seated and she ordered a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon and regarded her bracelet. The three bells chimed.
Susan’s head was a torment of thoughts, she could be concentrating on a case and still have her brain wondering how to sew a business jacket or cook a bisque. Not now though, her mind was focused on whether or not she should get up and leave. Each time the bells chimed strange thoughts entered her mind.
When the waiter was in reach she ordered another glass of wine. After her second glass of wine she was more relaxed and when the waiter brought her third glass she had replaced the sour look on her face with a smile.
When she had nearly consumed her third glass Roger walked up to the table, pulled out his chair and sat. “You look nice. What’s good here?” Susan was feeling quite a buzz.
The bells chimed. “Well Roger. You want to know what’s good here. That would be me. I am what is good here. You have no idea how good. I can be bad. Whenever I need to be. Now if you want to know what is good to eat here then you should ask the waiter.”
Roger’s face seemed to have lost all expression. It reminded Susan of the funny toy she once had. A bald clean shaven man in a plastic case with iron filings. You used a magnet to give the man hair. Roger waved the waiter over.
“We’ll both have New York steaks with baked potatoes and a salad for the lady.” The waiter inquired how they wished the steaks prepared. Susan interrupted. The bells chimed louder.
“Make them both rare. And bring us a bottle of your Oregon Gamay Noir. And I don’t want a fucking salad.” The waiter frowned and walked away.
The steaks came and Susan attacked her plate with her fork and knife. Roger cut his steak and ate one piece at a time. By the time he was halfway finished Susan had cleaned her plate. She had most of the wine consumed and her words were slurred. The waiter brought the check. Roger picked it up and his eyes got wide when he saw the total. “I’ll split the bill but I think you should get the tip. After all you drank all the wine.”
Susan stood and laughed. She reached into her purse and laid a couple hundred dollar bills on the table. “Since I drank all the wine. . . I shall pay all the bill and I will pay all the tip. You Roger the dodger. Shall drive. You can drive, can’t you?”
Susan stumbled but righted herself. The bells on her bracelet chiming. Roger took her arm and helped her to his truck. “Whoa! This is a big fucking truck! I sure hope my psychology professor was wrong.”
Roger helped her up into the cab. “What the hell? How many people can you get in this thing? You could live in this fucker. You don’t live in this thing do you Roger?”
Roger coughed. “No I have an apartment. You want to see it?”
Susan laughed. “I thought you’d never ask. Take me home Roger dodger.”
Roger pulled the truck in a covered parking garage.
Susan had to be helped up the stairs and when they got to the apartment she asked to be shown the bathroom. She closed the door and she stripped down to her sexy bra and panties. In the mirror she fixed her eyes and lips and when she flipped her hair her silver bells chimed and Susan opened the door and stepped into the bedroom. Roger was on the phone sitting on the bed with his back to her and when he turned and saw her he almost dropped it. “I’ll get back to you Roscoe. Yah, yah I’ll be there. . . Yah, you too.”
Susan was standing in front of him and she was removing her bra and panties, which she tossed to him. One of her hands was playing with a hardened nipple and the other was playing with her pussy. “Come here Roger dodger. Don’t just sit there get over here. Now!”
Roger was slow getting up. Susan grabbed a pillow off the couch and through it on the floor in front of her. “I want you to lick my pussy Roger. You do know how to lick a pussy don’t you Roger? Come here. Now kneel in front of me. That’s it. Yes.”
It was if he no longer had control of himself, his responses were not his it was like he was some kind of puppet. A marionette and Susan was pulling the strings. She pressed her pubis against his mouth. “That’s it Roger keep that tongue out.”
She was holding the back of his head pressing his face into her. She ground her hips into his face. He wanted to pull away and yet he didn’t. It was like he couldn’t pull away. Susan held him into her crotch.
Even as strong as he was he was powerless against this woman. He tried to pull his tongue back into his mouth but it jetted out his mouth like a spear. She continued to grind her hips and when she was done Susan jerked away from him and pushed him to the floor. “You lay there Roger. That’s how I want you. Let me do all the work.” She stroked his penis until it was hard and throbbing.
When he was hard enough she climbed on top of him and rode him like a bronco, bouncing up and down while Roger lay helpless. It was as if he were being held down. It could have been ten minutes or ten hours, time had gone haywire. When Susan raised herself off him, he just laid there gaping with his eyes wide, unblinking. His mouth was dry and his tongue was sore. And except for the intense burning pain he felt on his penis and the aching in his balls he was numb all over.
Susan dressed at a casual pace and Roger, unable to move, mumbled unintelligently to himself. It was almost an hour after she left before he was able to stand. He went to the bathroom lifted the toilet seat and let a stream flow and when he looked he could see there was blood in his urine. He turned to the mirror and saw that Susan had written a message with lipstick. ‘See Roger kiss, kiss like a fish. See Roger lick, lick like a dick. See Roger fuck, fuck like a duck, a duck fuck that sucked.’ Roger didn’t know whether to laugh or cry so instead he backed up and sat down on the toilet. Too bad Roger had never gotten into the habit of flushing the toilet or putting the seat down after he pissed. His ass plunged into the cold urine filled toilet bowl and he sat there and cried.
Susan woke up naked but with a sore vagina and no recollection of her date last night. She wondered if she had been raped, she remembered drinking wine and that her date had been late and she remembered ordering more wine and then, nothing.
She decided that she would look at the security recording to see if Roger had done anything to her. As a divorce attorney she had a high tech security system that included twelve cameras. She fast forwarded the video from the garage camera until she saw the front of her car enter its space. When her car pull into her space she watched herself get out of the car alone and she appeared sober. Susan could see she wore a smirk when the camera focused on her face.
She noted the time stamp as ten-thirty-seven PM and switched to the camera at the entryway and noted how pleased she looked at herself when she was unlocking her front door. She appeared to be sober, as she moved about the house. Susan watched herself undress and she watched herself dancing in front of the mirror playing with herself.
Susan fast forwarded to where she watched herself masturbating with all her different vibrators and dildo’s. “Holy crap no wonder I’m sore. I don’t believe this. I’m never going to drink again. Shit!” She watched the spectacle, her mouth agape. The time stamp showed her masturbating for almost two hours. She watched herself laughing and crying and finally laydown and fall asleep.
Susan deleted all the video. She took off the silver bracelet and laid it in her jewelry box. She got the shower water hot and let it wash over her. When she soaped herself she realized how sore her nipples were as well as her vagina. It was funny that for some reason she didn’t feel satisfied only sore.
She decided to call Roger. After several rings Roger answered. “You crazy bitch! You’ve got some nerve calling me! You’re fucking crazy!”
He hung up before she could utter a word.
Susan opened her jewelry box and took out the silver bracelet. She put it on and looked in the mirror. Isadora Duncan was staring at her dressed in what Susan surmised as twenties vintage she was trying to say something. Susan listened. It sounded like.
“I want to feel again!”

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