Help wanted part 4

Snap. “Aaugh!” It broke. She fell.

“Fuuuck!” she screamed.

“No!” I rushed forward. It was too late.

Caitlyn was hanging upside down, firmly attached, by the shoelace loop of her left boot. Her arms hung down, her fingertips were all of maybe an inch off the ground. Her right leg was bent at the knee, hanging by its own weight.

I collapsed in laughter. She reminded me of a Tarot card. The Hanging Man.

She twisted, flexed, bent up, reached, bent up again, twisted again and tried to raise herself again, all to no avail. The sad thing was that had I not been there, Caitlyn would have been in a life threatening situation. Unless she could raise herself up and unhook that boot, she was food for the vultures. I doubted that anyone could hear screams from where we were. Finally she settled herself hanging upside down.

“Doug?” Her face was all red.

“Caitlyn?”

“Can you get me down?”

I paused for a moment.

“I don’t think so.”

“Douuuug.”

“Maybe, but it’ll cost ‘ya.”

She paused.

“I’ll suck your cock.”

I laughed. “No, you already do that and you love it.”

“I’ll shave my cunt.”

I laughed again, “No, you’ve already offered to do that.”

What a delicious moment.

“Alright Doug, what do you want me to do?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. She did look funny hanging there upside down. Completely helpless.

“Ooohh…I dunno.”

“Doug!”

“Let me think!”

“Doug!”

“Give me a second.”

“Anal sex. You can fuck me in the ass.”

I howled with that one. “No. Your ass is mine anyway.”

“What do you want?” She was growing desperate.

“Dinner. We’ll go out for dinner.”

“Dinner?” Her tone expressed her disbelief.

“Yes…but.”

“But…what?”

“I get to buy you a new outfit for dinner.”

I thought I could read suspicion on her upside down red face.

“What kind of outfit?” she asked carefully.

“A flowery dress and shoes and a purse to match.”

“Noooo!” She started to contort, she tried to reach her boot lace, her arms flailed about wildly. She kicked with her free leg.

“And no face metal.”

She twisted, she tried to reach for anything. Fighting, she tried to reach up.

“Pink fingernails. Light pink. Girly pink!”

“Noooo!” Her arms thrashed about. Her entire body turned a different shade of red. It was if she was attacked by a swarm of bees. It took a few minutes but she eventually settled down with her arms hanging down, fingertips almost to the ground. Her chest heaved in and out searching for air. Defeated.

“Fuck you,” she gasped.

“So is that a yes?”

There were two deep breaths before she hissed, “Yes.”

“Oh and one more thing, yes, I’d like your pussy shaved. Bald.”

She growled at me.

I clapped my hands together laughing. Oh what fun I was going to have.

I untied her shoelace. She slipped to the ground.

As she stood up I brushed the twigs and leaves off of her and gave her a kiss. “You okay?” I asked.

She smiled and said, “Yeah.”

“Are you staying tonight?” I asked. I could hear the apprehension in my voice.

“Only if you want me to Doug.”

“Of course I do. I know you bought something funny for dinner. What is it?”

“Nopalitos.”

“What the hell’s that?”

“Cactus,” she said as she picked up her spent beer can and turned to walk down the mountain. She turned after a few steps and said, “Come on let’s go.”

Did she say cactus? I picked up my beer can and followed her down.

“Do we get early Christian music with that?” I was ribbing her as I walked behind.

She stopped, considered for a second then said, “I’ve some Gregorian Chants in the Yaris. Only one CD though, but it’s two discs.”

“I was joking,” I said as we continued to make our way down the mountain.

She turned to me and said, “Well I’m not,” and then walked off.

What a strange bird, that Caitlyn Progue. How many Goth girls have Gregorian chants in their car?

I came downstairs after my shower, dressed in usual sweats and tee to the sound of monks chanting throughout my house. There was almost an echo happening. I half expected a line of brown robed, hooded little men to shuffle by. I was sure they were somewhere in the house. I checked to make sure the front window wasn’t replaced with stained glass.

“What’s cookin’ good lookin’?” I kissed Caitlyn as I entered the kitchen.

“I told you, cactus,” she said and lifted the lid.

“Wow!” it did smell good. I didn’t see any needles, but I did see what appeared to be green tomatoes. “What can I do?”

“Set the table, I’m having my shower. Don’t let anything burn.”

Off she went. The monks and I were left in charge of cooking… of what I didn’t know.

There was a sliced onion and a clove of garlic on the cutting board. The rice was out. I picked up a little box she had obviously bought, Achiote Condimentado. What the hell?

She came down from her shower wearing a black knee length skirt and a white blouse.