Angel and the Writer

It was already starting to get cold and Angel had no idea what she was going to do. Her date had been an asshole and she had refused to get in the car with him. Not only was he not her type but he had been drinking and shouldn't have been driving at all. She had not even thought about the day or where she was only that it wouldn't be safe to get in the car with him. Now she stood looking at the transit map. Any other Monday she would have had two more buses she could catch, but this was Labor Day a Holiday schedule and she should have remembered as it was the only reason she had been out on a Monday night. No money for a cab and all her friends with cars were still hours away from the city enjoying the end of the long weekend. She had walked back to the bar hoping the staff would be able to help her but they too had closed early for the holiday.

The wind bit at her skin where the short skirt and fish nets left her bare. Had Angel known the sort of night it was to be she would have dressed more reasonably but she hadn't imagined being stranded in a remote neighborhood. Angel resigned herself to walking to the nearest covered bus stop and waiting for the first morning bus to arrive. The neighborhood wasn't bad but it was near some of the less savory parts of town and again she wished she had chosen something less revealing then her purple and black plaid mini and black tank top. Even as she walked she thought about the six hours of cold waiting yet to come and shuddered. The light was broken in the stop which she felt was for the best as she didn't want to be noticed by the police and mistaken for a vagrant or a prostitute but she also thought it made the stop seem colder. Another shudder ran through Angel this time as she sat on the bench. The metal was cold enough to send chills through her despite the skirt.

It felt like hours passed but each occasion she dared to check the time but it was never more then fifteen or twenty minutes from the last time. She was about to start calling her friends again when the voice startled her.

"You do know the buses are done running for the night don't you?" Angel stared at the man who she had neither seen nor heard approach her out of the darkness. He was over six feet tall, dark haired, and broad. He was wearing a dark suit with a dark colored shirt with a tropical pattern on it. He looked like he had stepped off the screen of some weird 70's psychedelic film. "Do you speak English?" Angel had been so stunned by his sudden and odd appearance that she had sat staring without responding for what must have been over a minute.

"Yes and yeah I know I am stranded until the morning bus." The man looked her over again and Angel could tell he was evaluating her outfit.

"You're just going to wait here until morning then?"

"That was the plan," she hesitated slightly not wanting to show any sign of her degree of desperation for a path out of this shelter, "unless you can get me a ride."

"Sorry, born again cyclist." He shrugged and kind of laughed "If you want to crash on my couch I live in the apartments right over here. You'll freeze to death out here."

"I'm-m-m," Angel had been about to say 'I'm not sure that's a good idea,' but a swift wind had sent her jaw shivering and as she paused she reconsidered her refusal. "I'm Angel, and thank you."

"I'm Tom and its my pleasure." She got up and walked with him toward the buildings behind the bus shelter. As they passed into the light of the building's courtyard she could see the both the suit and the shirt were of a dark blue and again she struck by the way he resembled a drug dealer from an old movie. He opened the front door of the building and she stepped in as he held it thinking that he was at least bettered mannered then the guy she had ditched who had nearly let the bar door hit her in the face in his rush to get his first drink. Tom motioned towards the stairs and she went up gladly enjoying the warmth of being indoors out of the wind. She got up the stairs and looked back at the smiling face now in the clear light. He was dark skinned, not Latin like her, but possibly Italian or Greek mixed. He keyed open the apartment to the right of the stairs. Angel was so happy not to be sitting in the bus shelter anymore she didn't look at the number on the door.

The old pleather couch was comfy enough she thought as she sat down. There was not much else in the room except for a computer and the desk and chair that went to that. Tom walked back towards what she guessed was his room and came back with a blanket and pillow and set them on one end of the couch. "I'm going to make some tea that should help warm you up." Angel nodded her head and started sorting out the bed makings then went to the bathroom. When she returned a large travel mug full of hot honeyed tea sat near one end of the couch and Tom was seated at the computer desk typing away.

"So are you a web-insomniac?" Angel asked as she sipped the tea feeling the warmth fill her.

"Nope just a writer, insomnia is a job requirement." She laughed a bit as he continued to type frantically. She wanted to ask what he wrote but also didn't want to annoy him or distract him so she drank down her tea as quickly as the temperature allowed and lay down. Angel had no idea how long she lay there under that blanket listening to the keys clicking under his fingers before she realized that the typing was echoing oddly and her skin tingled. She let her eyes open and odd shifting patterns hovered around the edges of her vision and she decided she might need to pee again. As she stood up the room kind of dipped and the walls breathed. She wondered if she was getting sick from being in the cold and went to the bathroom again. She walked very slowly back from the bathroom stopping every few seconds because the hardwood floors no longer seemed entirely solid to her, it rippled each time she put her foot down and the more steps she took the farther the couch seemed. Tom was standing next to her.

"You all right?" He said with an odd grin twisting his face. She tried not to think of a shark, but the blue suit and bared teeth made it hard.

"I don't think so." Angel watched as he seemed to grow even taller.

"Not use to shroom tea I guess." Tom put an arm around her shoulders and Angel nodded not sure if she understood what was being said or if it made sense. "Come on. We'll get you more comfortable." She walked with him desperately wanting to be more comfortable as it currently seemed like she could feel each and every fiber of fabric touching her as a single feather tickling each skin cell it made contact with.

"I don't do drugs." She felt she should explain this as she realized what the statement about the tea entailed and wondered why he had not warned her about the tea.

"Shroom tea isn't a drug its all natural." He said as he pushed open a door to a dark room and led her inside.

"Oh." To Angel the odd shapes of furniture and shadows melted into the bizarre patterns of colors and she was not sure if this made her more comfortable. Tom guided her to the bed and helped her settle into it before moving away to close the door. Angel writhed in the sheets feeling the new sensations coursing through her and hearing odd sounds she didn't understand. The bed swayed and shifted under her and suddenly she realized Tom had not left the room when he closed the door. He slid under the covers next to her and immediately his hands began lifting the tank top off her body. She was so lost in the strangeness of the touch of another person under the influence of this tea that what was happening seemed to lose its meaning. It didn't matter that this strange older man was pealing off her clothes or that she could feel his naked erection through her fishnets all the mattered was the strange new way these sensations were causing her to react. Her breaths were shuddery and she felt incredibly light and her nerve endings seemed to become electrified where ever he touched her.

It was as Tom pulled the thong out from under her skirt that some clear idea of what was happening dawned on Angel. She was drugged and in bed with a strange man wearing nothing but her skirt and fishnets. As his fingers parted her labia and slid inside her she tried to make some protest but her mind couldn't find the words that would explain how or why this needed to stop. All her mouth seemed capable of doing was gasping and moaning in a way that clearly went against the arguments her mind was forming.

"I told you I'd make you comfortable." The shark-man was smiling again now as he knelt between Angel's legs. In the dark all she could see was the broad line of his teeth. Her skirt was pushed up around her waist and his hands were holding her legs up under her knees. His slow entry into the warm channel between her legs sent a fire of excited tactile sensations through her body as her mind tried once more to form protest and send out the alarms to the legs and arms. She needed to push him off, tell him no at the very least and yet her mind just couldn't find the way around all the new things it was perceiving to decide if what it wanted to protest was even really happening. His hips bucked against her filled her with deep primal pleasure as her mind raced with fear. The chemicals in her brain made her want to writhe against him, against anything she touched, and she did only adding to her own pleasure and confusion. Tom pumped into her harder and faster bringing her body closer to the peak it sought. As her body clenched in a violent orgasm her vision burst with more swirling shifting patterns and his animal grunts became more savage. She dared not open her eyes. The noise alone told her that she would not see a man above her but some beast ravaging her and real or not she knew could not handle it. The fear had her completely in the aftermath of her own pleasure. She stayed behind her eyelids watching the swirling colors and trying not to think about the growls and moans coming from above her or the redoubling pleasure she felt even as her fear crippled her mind further. He pulled out and turned her over on her stomach. She let him pull her up on her knees and felt him push back into her now literally ramming himself into her and pulling her hips into each pounding thrust. She heard her self crying out loudly not the pleas she wanted to unleash but more of her own primal cries of lust. As his shaft stiffened in her and hot blasts of seed erupted inside her she gave into a second orgasm.

Tom left her there her skirt around her waist and her face down in the pillows. Angel tried to wrap her head around the situation and still couldn't. Even the cum running down her thigh didn't seem to make it real. She writhed in the blankets not bothering to dress or look for her phone. He was typing again in the other room and she could hear that and some how that made her think every thing had gone back to normal. The typing stopped after a while and Tom came back and fucked her again this time cumming on her chest before returning to his typing. When the typing stopped after that he came back to sodomize her. Each time he returned she knew what was about to happen but was too confused in her hallucinatory state to stop him or protest. Each time he pushed in her, her body writhed against him driving her own pleasure despite her fear and confusion. When she finally passed out she could tell if she had fucked been eight times or eighteen.

Angel awoke on the bench at a train station far from the bar she had been at the previous evening. Morning commuters were all looking at her as she pulled herself up into a sitting position. She could feel the soreness and stickiness all over her body telling her it had been real, but now could only think of getting home getting showered and getting into her own bed. The shrooms were fading but not yet out of her system and being around all these people was making her nervous. When she awoke again around mid-day it was to her phone. He had set a an alarm with a message of a web address. She went to her computer and found at the website a story so familiar she could still hear the key strokes of each letter as she read down to this final line.