Posted by PK on June 13, 2002 at 17:43:21:
That worked. Jill leaned towards her and ran a finger down the neat tuft of pubic hair framing
Jacqui's tasty bits. Shaved to a narrow strip and trimmed. "Cute," she said.
"Definitely", Eric concurred. His frankly admiring stare took in all the rest of Jacqui. No need
to undress her now.
Jacqui forced herself not to recoil. When an unknown and potentially dangerous animal sniffs
your hand you don't show fear. On the other hand, she couldn't just stand there passively
like a beast being inspected at a cattle market. "Thanks," she said with studied lightness,
gently brushing Jill's hand aside, "But we don't know each other THAT well. Are you going to
try it on or not?" She glanced surreptitiously at her beach bag, on the ground where she had
dropped it when Jill gave her the drink. There was a change of clothes in it. "Oh, there it is,"
she said, and picked up the half-finished drink instead.
"And in answer to your question," Eric said - Jacqui glanced up but he was talking to Jill -
"No, Rosemary isn't done yet. Patience, little sister."
Sister? They didn't look much alike. Or was this some sort of club thing, like a fraternity and
whatever the other one was all together? "Jill was just telling me about the Hellfire Club," she
said. Jill, slipping into her bikini, gave her a wry, quizzical look but didn't contradict her.
"Was she now?" Eric raised his eyebrows. "Sounds more like Neal's description of our little
coterie. Still, not a bad one, though we're not, really."
"Jaqui thinks we're a wolfpack," Jill commented offhandedly, posing. "Do you think it suits
me?"
It seemed odd to see Jill wearing something she'd just taken off herself. It wasn't like trading
jackets, more like underwear. Disturbingly personal. At least she hadn't said 'you won't be
needing this any more.' with a suggestive leer or a sinister laugh. "The colour's good, but it's
a bit...looser..." Tact. The colour was deep blue, it went with both lighter and darker skin
tones.
"Wolfpack. Not bad, either," Eric mused. "For a first impression." He smiled at Jacqui. "We're
not really as structured as that." Noting her look, he took pity on her and explained. "The
Hellfire Club was a group of British aristocrats, decadents, rebels if you will, ages ago.
Flouting the conventions of their day, raising Hell for the sheer wicked fun of it. They weren't
serious Satanists, it was mainly an excuse for orgies and wild parties."
"Hell's Angels on horseback," Jill put in. "You're right, it's a better fit on you. I've got tits like
two fried eggs." She started to take it off again, as unselfconsciously as she'd put it on.
"Don't those frat parties get a bit like that?" Jacqui thought out loud. "Weird rites and stuff?"
She'd seen that on TV shows and in movies.
"Very good," Eric said, nodding approval.
"Sharp as a tack," Jill remarked.
"You said you don't sacrifice goats," Jacqui pressed. She was on a roll and what did she have
to lose? "To Satan, anyway."
Eric shrugged. "Not me. Can't speak for everyone here, I admit, I don't doubt somebody may
have tried it."
"But not you."
"Don't see the point. I don't believe in Satan. If I did, the last thing I'd want is to invoke him.
I'm sure you've seen the films, it never works out well."
Jacqui finished her drink. She wanted another. "You just spit roast your girlfriends."
Eric's face showed something, Jacqui wasn't sure what. He glanced at Jill, an enquiry.
Jill replied nonverbally in the negative. She tossed the bikini back to Jacqui. "Thanks," she
said. "Another libation?"
Is that what it was? "Sure, why not?" Put the costume back on or not? The soundtrack
switched to 'California Girls'. Maybe not. Jill didn't need it, why should she? It would seem
defensive. Or provocative.
"What did Neal tell you?" Eric inquired casually.
Jacqui shrugged, suddenly conscious that her tits didn't resemble fried eggs at all. She could
feel them bounce, just slightly. "Not much," she said. "Just 'listen to the penguin.'" And how
had he known about that? And something else.
Eric looked genuinely puzzled. "Neal says some strange things. He's..."
Jill returned with drinks. Jacqui dropped the bikini on the sand and took hers. "Nutcase," Jill
said. "Loser."
"Who was Rosemary?"
Eric and Jill looked at each other.
Jill: "She should be on TV. Columbo?"
Eric: "Nah, Jessica Fletcher."
Jill (grinning): "Miss Marple?"
Eric: "Orson Welles?"
Jill: "Whoo, that's a stretch..."
It was a verbal tennis match, an in-joke that Jacqui wasn't in on. Fuck that. "She was your
girlfriend, wasn't she?" That to Eric. "Some poor bitch you sucked in like you did me."
"Oh, that's harsh." Eric. Mock ironic.
"Half right." Jill. Being fair.
"She volunteered." Eric. Half truth?
"And now she's party snacks," Jill said. "Let's see how she's doing, shall we? Coming?"
Deja vu all over again. Should she listen to the penguin or run with the pack? She followed.
As one does. Hunt with the hounds or run with the hares. Some choice.
It wasn't that far to the barbecue, they just had to make their way through a slightly boisterous
crowd, some haphazardly arranged trestle tables presumably set out for dining, and a few
tentlike constructions. The crowd were drinking, talking, dancing or playing beach games, the
noise level was increasing steadily. The party was indeed warming up, though it didn't yet
resemble an orgy. Although many of the guests were wearing little or nothing, nobody was
actually screwing in public.
Rosemary was being attended by a man wearing a Hawaiian shirt almost as horrible as Eric's
over swimming trunks and a woman wearing a cutoff T-shirt. From the sternum down she
wore nothing, not even public hair, so Jacqui couldn't tell if she was a natural blonde. Both of
them offered perfunctory greetings to Jill and Eric, with a nod for Jacqui. The half-naked
woman was using some sort of implement on the roasting one. A long-handled scoop?
Basting her, of course.
"Looking good," Eric commented. "Don't you think?"
"Yummy," Jill said.
Jacqui found the spectacle almost as shocking as she had before, but she was some small
way past the panic and disbelief stage. People can adapt to almost anything, and a drink or
two usually helps. She forced herself to look calmly and objectively. Rosemary was impaled
through the body, from between the legs to her head. The pole actually came out of her
mouth, it must have come up through her throat. Her hands and feet had been lashed to the
pole in some way. Her hair was cropped short and glistened with oil, as did the rest of her.
She rotated slowly In the glow of the slow-burning charcoal. It was an oddly affecting sight, in
ways she couldn't describe to herself. It was horrible, but also horribly fascinating. If it weren't
for the fact that the woman had been killed, it would almost have been beautiful.
Performance art taken to the edge of insanity. Jacqui would have said she hadn't a clue
about performance art if you'd asked her, but somehow she had the concept anyway.
Rosemary was really giving her all to the role.
"Don't you think?" Eric repeated.
"Uh? Oh, yeah, right. She never looked better in her life."
Eric took the sarcasm in stride. "Some would say it's her natural position," he quipped.
Jill smirked. "You should know. Having tried all the others..."
Jacqui shook her head in disbelief. "You're telling me she volunteered for this? You've got to
be kidding me."
"Not entirely," Eric said seriously. "Nobody exactly forced her. We don't do that...well.."
"Not usually," Jill said, still smirking.
"Not usually," Jacqui echoed. "Not entirely. Great." So I'm still maybe fair game. Not
encouraging.
"It's not always that clear cut," Eric put in.
"There was that cocktail waitress in Denver..." Jill teased.
"As I said..." Eric shrugged. He seemed almost defensive.
Jacqui resisted the urge to lose it with them. Jill had said earlier, "That's not a yes or no
question." when asked if they were going to roast her. She needed to know what she'd meant
by that. Confrontation wouldn't work. She couldn't fight these people and she couldn't outplay
them at word games. "How did you all get into this?" she tried.
"Party games," Jill said. "Spin the bottle. Dares. You know." She shrugged, not unlike the
way Eric had, but not at all defensively. Why not?
"Look there," Eric said. He nodded at a naked woman who had approached from the other
side of the pit. She was naked and shaven and was staring at the human roast with an
expression on her face not unlike religious rapture. "She wants to do it. It's written all over
her."
"One of Eric's groupies," Jill said sotto voce to Jacqui. "A wannabe. Rosemary...."
"She's going to 'volunteer' I suppose," Jacqui retorted sceptically. Whoops, should have let
her continue blabbing. Cool, keep cool..
"She'll never do it," Jill admitted. "Not without..." she glanced at Eric, "...a little help."
Jacqui noticed the woman noticing Eric. She gave a tentative, shy smile and he gave her a
casual, slightly dismissive wave of acknowledgement. "You see?" he addressed to Jacqui.
"See what?" she challenged. Come on, out with it.
Eric looked aside for a second and then back at Jacqui. "She wants us to take her by force.
She'll go to the spit kicking and screaming and she'll be terrified..."
"But loving every minute, I'm sure." It sounded like a standard excuse for rape.
"I couldn't say. But she's still here. She probably fantasises about it. Being grabbed by the
arms and legs, spreadeagled, having the spit forced inside her, helpless, being put on the
fire..."
"Still alive," Jill put in eagerly. "Do go on, you're making me all hot and bothered."
"Alive?" Jacqui thought back to Eric checking if Rosemary was still alive. ("I don't think she
knows..." Eric had glanced aside, taking in the spit roast, presumably noting that the woman
wasn't moving any more...."...knew anything about cookery.") Mixed feelings here, she noted.
If these maniacs cooked the mad groupie next, she had a reprieve. Should she encourage
them? Moral dilemma. Call Oprah.
Mary had a little lamb,
The doctors were surprised...
No, not that.
Now Mary WAS a little lamb. And cooking up nicely. Makings of a good limerick in there.
Probably been done.
"Wouldn't it be Nice" came on. Refreshing as always.
"How did you all get into this?" she tried again. "Really. Come on."
"Told you," Jill said. "Spin the bottle. The Dice Game. Must have read it." She was distracted,
staring at the food. "It escalated."
"Just a bit," Eric said, inexplicably in an accent Jacqui heard as Pakistani but was in fact
Welsh. She was over her head again.
"I don't get it," Jacqui said. "Lay it out for me. Pass the time, humour me." In fact, she WAS
beginning to get it, but she had to be sure. Her life might depend on knowing the score, and it
wouldn't hurt if they underestimated her.
Jill gave her a smile that hinted she wasn't entirely fooled. "Ever been tempted?"
Jacqui looked blank. She glanced at the remains of Rosemary and back to Jill. "By that?"
"Putting it all on the line," Jill said. "Dares. Walk on the wild side, you know."
Jacqui shook her head. "You're crazy." It was a calculated risk.
"Me? Maybe. I'm not the one sunbathing in a couple of ribbons looking like a feast on the
hoof who walked off to a private party with a total stranger. At least I knew the people I was
doing it with when I got into it."
Jacqui acknowledged the hit with a wry smile. "Got me. But doing what?" ('Feast on the
hoof?' was that how they saw her?)
"Of course, I was very, very drunk at the time," Jill said in a plummy, slurred British accent.
"It was Neal's idea," Eric interjected.