“Let’s celebrate,” said Annie. “Phillip and Ivan are in town for another night, the deal’s closed, the millions are locked in, you’re not working tomorrow morning, I’m feeling kinda special and want to be treated that way … any argument?… thought not … I’ll book the restaurant.”
Rule one, don’t argue with Annie when she’s in party mode, rule two, hold on tight because sometimes the ride takes you places you’d never have dreamed of … or fantasised about. Annie loves a good time, especially when it comes to pushing the sexual envelope. If it’s a pool party, she’s the first one in without a top. Card nights … she’s the first one to suggest we play for something more than match-sticks or loose change. I know other blokes envy me for her boldness. I know she loves to embarrass some of her more prudish friends. And me, well I enjoy the whole spectacle. Call it weird if you like, but that’s the way I am.
In the back of my mind, I probably knew Annie had something planned a bit beyond dinner and chat this night …
Anyway, two hours later we were in the plushest joint a company credit card could buy you. Phillip, or Phil to everyone except Annie, and Ivan were two pretty good fellas and we all relaxed pretty easily. And Annie was still just bouncing along on the strength of her big deal. It was Annie who insisted on the champagne, and not just any champagne. It had to be French. We toasted the deal … quite a few times in fact, so much so we needed a second bottle. Thank God it’s not my credit card, I thought. I could really sense we, well Annie certainly, were into serious let down mode here. There came now a bottle of expensive Chardonnay to go with what was turning out to be an exquisite meal.
“We’ve earned it,” Annie said when someone looked at a price tag. Really, from what I gathered from the increasingly loud conversations, Annie had earned it. The deal was her idea from start to finish. Phil and Ivan chipped in, eased her through some of the rough spots and so on, but it was her energy that pulled it off. I know along the way they’d had their moments of stress and the odd spat but Annie had told me they worked together really well and had become extremely close. Phil was divorced so had the time to put in on weekends. Ivan was single and his ability to bounce into the office at any time had also been valuable. Annie just went to work as she needed to and I didn’t mind. This was her first big gig after leaving Uni. All up over the past few months, they’d spent a lot of time together and often under pressure.
Dinner was all but over and the conversation still flying when Annie waved the waiter away when he asked if we wanted coffee’s and desserts. “Back to our place, I think, would be better.”
Soon we were bundling each other out of a cab outside our house... Tiddly would be a good word to describe us all, though I think Annie, who’d really made a meal of the champagne, was the worst for wear.
“The night is but young,” she said as she tacked up the drive way. “I feel the need to let down many strands of hair that has been strangled tight with tension. Anyone not up for it is a wanker.”
As we worked in the door of our house, I noticed we had left the television on. This was something that always pissed Annie off. She isn’t tight with money; rather she feels it’s wrong to be using the world’s resources so wastefully. She was a semi-committed environmentalist … no plastic bags at the supermarket … peace and harmony with the planet … that sort of thing. She chose the company she worked for because of its community and environmental values, not because it paid the fattest salary.
I moved to turn the television off, swiftly. But Phil called out “no”. “That’s the Dunwich Horror, a real old B-grade sci-fi bomb. It’s got a great scene at the end though where Sandra Dee gets done by the devil on the altar. I got my rocks off on it when I was a kid.”
“All right, just for you and your old time pubescent memories,” slurred Annie. She plonked herself down in the lounge chair, as did Phil and Ivan, either side of her. I was ordered to “bring more wine”.
By the time I got back, Sandra Dee was up on the altar almost wearing some black negligee thing. Some weirdo was standing over her and whispering mumbo jumbos and she was having what seemed like an orgasm. Annie watched intrigued, then giggled. “You really like that stuff, Phil,” she said.
“I did when I was a kid, I was really into the witchcraft thing, but mainly the sex that went with it … as you said, pubescent youth. Black magic was all about sexual initiation rites and that sort of thing. I bought a couple of books on witchcraft mainly for the pictures of the high priestess being worshiped by the rest of the coven on the altar. They always had on thin robes and I think my hand might have found its way into my pants more than once. But I also learned a few chants and stuff and we did it at Uni for a lark one night. The girl who volunteered to be the high priestess really got off on it. Apparently being “worshipped” by so many people really turned her on, that and being all but naked in front of us. And she said my voice had a sort of hypnotic effort. She might have been right. I made everyone else strip off too, just by telling them that’s what we had to do. It did pretty interesting towards the end. A few pretty embarrassed people the next morning.
The movie ground to its dreadful end. It was really a C grade movie and we laughed at the pitiful acting and special effects. But Annie took the conversation beyond that.
“After all I’ve achieved for the company this week, I reckon I deserve a bit of worshipping too,” she said. Ivan, who’d been pretty quiet until now, said: “I think you’ll be getting plenty of that from head office once the news filters through and back down again. We’re in the big league now. Your bonus will be a beauty.”
“Sure will,” said Phil. “Mate you’ve got a clever missus,” he added in my direction.
“Know that,” I said. “I certainly worship her.”
“Not that sort of worship,” whispered Annie, “but like Sandra Dee or that girl of yours at Uni. That’s where I am right now. I want to be adored. A bit of witchcraft can get you a long way, look at that Fiona Horne. She’s got her own television show with a bit of sex and magic. And all those blokes worshipping her, that footballer, and so on. Now I good get along on that.
Boy, had the wine taken over.
“What’s that song from Grease, I want to be like Sandra Dee, well I want to be like Sandra Dee and Fiona Horne. Come on Phil, you know some of that stuff, I feel like being really worshipped. How about a few hypnotic lines?”
I thought I’d be the diplomat before Phil was left too embarrassed.
“Darling, Phil’s probably forgotten most of it and anyway, we just don’t happen to have a convenient altar right now.”
“We didn’t have an altar either back in Uni,” said Phil, not helping the cause at all. “We just got some candles and put a rug on a table.”
“All right, let’s do it,” said Annie. “What does a high priestess wear, something like Sandra Dee?
“It’s up to you,” said Phil.
“All right, it’s up to me then,” said Annie. “Be back in a minute.”
And looking at me, she said: “Be a darling and get us an altar, will you, I think you might enjoy yourself tonight.”
That was a direct reference to her knowing that I get off on her being naked in front of others, especially blokes. We’d talked about it … she certainly had no problems with it.
“What happening,” said Ivan? “I think you’ll find Annie can be a bit of a devil,” I said, not intending the pun. “If you fellas want to bail out, you can now, I’ll explain that you had to go …
“We’d still have to face her in the morning and I know what her temper is like when she doesn’t get her way,” said Ivan, ruefully.
“Well then, what the heck, I don’t mind reprising some of my miss-spent youth,” said Phil. “You got a rug and some candles then ... I can remember enough lines to have a bit of fun.
We moved swiftly. I got a thick blanket from the cupboard under the stairs and lo and behold, found a small supply of tea-candles. I remembered we had some incense too. We quickly set up our makeshift altar on the dining room table, spread out the candles and were standing around like lost school boys when Annie re-appeared.
“Worthy of a bit of worship,” she said. She was in her “special occasions” black negligee. Under neath, and it was pretty obvious to see because of the thinness of the main garment, she had on a black bra and panties that covered the basics, but not a lot more.
“Whoaaaaa,” I said. “I could worship that. Sandra Dee-lightful!”
“I don’t think so,” said Annie. “Phil, now be honest with me, can we really do this with underwear?”
She gave me the knowingest look.
Phil stopped. “Well, every time while we were putting the deal together and you asked me to be honest, I was. Ummmm, you’re putting me on the spot, but well, you saw the movie just then and it was pretty obvious she had no underwear on …“
“And your uni high priestess,” said Annie.
“Well, she was a fun-loving girl.”
“No underwear fun-loving,” Annie fired back?
“Kinda,” said Phil. “There weren’t a lot of clothes all round by the time we finished.”
“Okay,” said Annie. “Be back soon and I want my worshippers in costume, too.”
No one moved or said anything. We were all a bit shocked but pleasantly so. I guess the blokes wanted to know what to do next. That meant a sign from me.
“You’re the guru, Phil,” I said. “Next instruction please!”
“Why don’t we take off our shirts,” he replied. “And you two stand either side of the altar and I’ll be at one end as the high priest.”
Annie returned, sans underwear, a thick blackness between her legs, nipples shining through the negligee, a look on her face that was difficult to fathom. Gently, especially considering how much she had to drink, she climbed on to the altar and lay on her back and shut her eyes. I turned down the lights so that the candles now controlled the night.
“Take it away maestro,” said Annie. “Worshipping Annie is the name of the game.”
Phil began to chant … oh spirit of the universe, see your humble servants gathered to rejoice in your powers. He said it a few times and asked Ivan and me to join in. I felt like a bit of a goose but did so, to humour Annie, if nothing else.
“Don’t you know any more of the words,” she said?
“I do, but it’s up to you how far we want to go, it’s get a bit interesting you know.
