Flambe’ de la SoulFlambe’ de la Soul


Having inhaled half a bag of potato chips, my late night cravings finally took their leave as I peered out into one God awful, cold and rainy night.

Ever since getting the Mac, it seemed I’d become a “shut in” and a web surfing fiend. I wasn’t sure why I was in this mode, but this lack of social contact couldn’t be healthy. I didn’t want to end up sitting around in my underwear, cleaning a gun, with tin foil on my windows. Just then a point of light floating on an adjacent rooftop caught my eye; in the shadows someone barely discernible was smoking. Shortly, the light arched into the night, the roof door opened, and a silhouette of a woman disappeared inside…

The next day a woman with a giant black cat is on the same roof… Well, just for grins, I put up the sign: ‘Got Milk?’ It was ignored. Then I hoisted: ‘Free Delivery!’ still no reaction. Ok, now I’m done.

Trolling the web later, an instant messenger box appears. That’s odd I thought, I never use… I accepted and the message read:

“Got Milk?” It was her! How did she?

“Yes,” I responded.

“Got Milk?” It shot back.

Again I replied, “Yes.”

“Got Milk?”

“Yes, but it’s about to turn.”

“Got Milk?”

I typed in “Free Delivery.” It was the only thing I could think of…

Bingo! “Deadkitty.com,” shot back. I entered the name and waited for the page to load…Whoa! A pair of yellow cat eyes faded in, while eerie music crept from my speakers. A login box popped up and I typed : “Got Milk?” My screen flashed to inside a stone tunnel. In the distance I could see a door; my view floated towards it. As I drew closer the door opened onto a large chamber, and there on a marble slab laid…a woman.

A female voice crackled from my speakers:

“Welcome, please forgive me for not standing. I’m not well you see, in fact, I am…dead. You, however, can resurrect me if you unravel the mystery of my demise. You have all you need to accomplish this, but only two days in which to succeed. I pray you will…”

Two days! Give me two hours! Baby! I found that I was able to pan, zoom in and out, and bring up a dialog box. A quick tour of the tomb revealed nothing. I then turned my attention to the woman. She was clothed in a very sheer, flowing black dress; her naked body visible underneath. She was an attractive woman, with soft features and straight black hair. Around her neck was an ornate necklace of symbols, stars, and half moons. I studied this image for awhile thinking– this may not be a easy as I thought.

How did she die, or was she killed? Shot, strangled, stabbed, poisoned, electrocuted, any number of diseases…shit!

I had to assume she was killed. I zoomed in on the lady and looked for clues. I saw nothing in the way of bruises, gunshot, or knife wounds. Having ruled out everything that only an autopsy would reveal, I was left with, well…er…jack.

I zoomed in on the necklace and inspected the assembled pieces. I’d seen this type of art-work…somewhere…

Then it hit me! I quickly launched another window and did a search, picking one of the sites, I hopped over. As I read, goose bumps tracked my arms and then…I smiled.

There was just one more thing to check. I killed the second window and returned to the dungeon. I zoomed in on the necklace as close as I could and…there it was!

I double clicked and the dialog box appeared, isveçbahis and I typed…

Suddenly the image of the woman rose and floated upright towards me. She almost reached me when the page went black. What the…?! That’s it? I wondered, staring at a empty screen.

A day passed; no sightings, no messages, nothing. I began to think…maybe I was wrong.

So, I’m back to my usual web surfing when…

“Tonight 10pm, apt. # 407.” Pops up in an IM.

“Yessss!!”…but then I thought…dude, do you know what you’re getting into? I had no clue, but I would sure find out…

“Come on in, the door is open.”

I entered into a cavernous loft that must have taken up half the building.

“Make yourself at home. Can I get you something to drink?”

From the direction of the voice, I saw a woman standing in a kitchen area.

“Sure, a beer would be good.” She made her way over and …oh my…dressed comfortably in jeans and t-shirt this raven-haired beauty was smoking hot.

“Is this ok?” she asked.

“This is fine, thanks.”

“Come, tell me about your week.”

She lead me to a cozy seating area that could have been a den if it had walls.

“Well, I encountered two women recently. One walking a small ‘panther’ on a roof top and one…well, just a little bit dead.”

“You really need to get out more often. Tell me about the dead woman.”

“She was beheaded.”

“Really? How tragic.”

“Very. Yet, you couldn’t tell at first glance that she had been, since her head was still attached…sort of.”

“So what clued you?”

“It was the necklace. It reminded me of a Islamic art exhibit I saw. So, I checked a Middle Eastern web sight and voila! The Middle East is one of the few places beheadings are still capital punishment. Checking the necklace closely I saw, through gaps, the hairline cut around her neck. So, what’s new with you?”

“Well, the other day I’m walking my cat on the roof and this guy across the way puts up a ‘Got Milk?’ sign in his window. So I thought, hmm…not very original, but cute. Then I see a ‘Free Delivery!’ sign. Ha! Ok, so now I’m piqued. And the game is on”

“How did you get my IM tag?”

“Simple. From your window I have your apartment and from the lobby directory I have your name. Name, address, Internet, and as a programmer with contacts…well, the rest was easy.” She points to small area crammed with computer gear.

“Did you just assume I was online?”

“No, that night it rained; up on the roof having a smoke,

I saw you, and your Mac.”

“I’m impressed.”

“Likewise. I didn’t expect you to solve my little online murder mystery at all, let alone one night–are you hungry?”

“I sure am–by the way what kind of cat is that? It’s huge!”

“Ya know, I’m not sure, it was an orphan. I always had a thing for exotica, ever since I was a child. My parents owned an import/export business in Alexandria.”

“Alexandria? where is that?”

“Egypt–hey, didn’t we say we were hungry.”

“We sure did.”

” Well, feel free to roam while I fix something. Do you like fish?”

“I love fish.”

“Great…what’s in the bag?”

“Got Milk?” I replied.

I explored while the cat-walker busied herself in the kitchen. The loft was L shaped with two partitions. One partially closing off her bedroom and the other isveçbahis giriş formed the kitchen area. For its size, it was sparsely furnished, making it seem even larger. I noticed some art pieces, a picture of her and another woman, and a few plants scattered about.

“Come and get it,” she announced.

We sat down in a small alcove by her kitchen.

“I call this ‘Flambe’ de la Soul,’ it’s pretty spicy, I hope that’s ok.”

“Looks good. I happen to love spicy dishes.” I gave her a look to see if she caught my drift. If she did, it didn’t show. “Wow! This is Hot!…Holy Smokes! I think my sinuses just ignited.”

“It’s the pepper spray.”

“The wha-a-a-t?!?!” I shrieked.

“The pepper spray, I coated the pan with it, gives it a unique taste.”

“I’d say…shouldn’t you be licensed to cook this, though?”

I drained the rest of my beer and tried not to let the worry show, as the “flambe’ ” began its ‘scorched earth’ march through my gut. I closed my eyes to keep tears from welling up.

“Are you alright?”

” Uh…sure. I think I could use another beer, though.”

“Hang on, be right back.” She returned with a glass.

“Got Milk?” she asked, smiling.

I drained the milk and miraculously the napalm run ceased instantly.

“Sorry, I forgot how spicy it can be to someone not use to it.”

“Now I know how some people spontaneously combust.”

We sat, talked, and guzzled brews into the night. She was a personable lady with a wild streak, which both thrilled and concerned me.

“Got a treat for us…” She left and returned with a bowl. I noticed a twinkle in her eyes as she placed it down .

“Mushrooms?” I asked.

” Yes, but you won’t find these in your local grocery.”

” Hold the phone!…are those…SHROOMS?!!”

” Right you are, got your bags packed?”

” Whoaaa lady, sorry, forgot my passport and where you’re going the return trip ain’t guaranteed.”

She didn’t say a word, smiling, she popped one in her mouth and slowly started to chew. She just stared at me smiling and chewing. My rational side said: ‘ Take a pass on this one, dude, you could burn on reentry.’ My reckless side weigh in with: ‘ It’s game time, man! Suit up or sit out!’ I watched her watching me. I considered the possible consequences of my decision and how it might affect the course of the evening…or more.

“…pass me those freakin’ fungi.” Lust having cast the deciding vote. I hesitated momentarily then bit down on the bitter fungus…

My first clue that I had disembarked was hearing Prince’s, “Jack U Off” playing from afar.

“That’s an oldie,” I remarked.

“What’s an oldie?”

“That music.”

” music??”

“…er…never mind.”

I looked at her and saw that she was smiling more and her eyes seemed darker. With one leg propped up–chin on knee–she stared right through me. Rising, she crooked a finger for me to follow. On my third attempt I stood on limbs that had taken on a life of their own. Pitching back and forth, arms flailing like a drunk on stilts; my legs, finally, moved to follow her trail which was like streaks on a snapshot of speeding traffic.

“…thought I lost you,” she said.

“…had mechanical problems.”

“Happens to me too, sometimes. Just don’t freak, or you could crash and burn.”

“I’ll remember that–where’s your bathroom?”

“Through isveçbahis yeni giriş that door over there.”

I headed in the direction of her gesture with a sensation as though I was floating. In the bathroom I pondered how beer looked the same leaving, as it did coming. I glanced in the mirror and almost screamed. The face staring back at me was unrecognizable; cadaverous with deranged bloodshot eyes–frantically, I soaked my face…

“Didn…hey, next time take the clothes off before you shower.”

“…saves time,” I said.

“Are you ok?”

“I’m fine,” I lied.

“Take those off. I’ll get you a robe.”

I flopped on her bed, shaken and exhausted. She returned with robes, munchies and more shrooms. We changed, then dug into the food and fungi. I started to feel better and soon became acutely aware of my surroundings. The clarity was stunning, colors, sounds, perceptions, all were enhanced. We lounged in her bedroom, which was virtually empty except for a bed raised on a large marble slab, a picture of a tropical isle, and a magnificent ceremonial sword hanging on a wall.

She laid supine, propped up on elbows, head back and staring into space. With her robe parted, the median of her curvaceous figure called to me. I floated to her in slow motion and noticed lettering on her exposed skin. Moving her robe aside I saw that her entire body was covered with missives.

“Are these tattoos?” I asked.


I looked closer and saw that they were signs…

“Your body is covered with signs.”

“What do they say?”

“This one says:’Caution: May Be Hot, Sip With Care,’ and, ‘Head In Parking Only.’and this one, ‘For Emergency Stop, Push Button…,'”

We had a good laugh reading her body language when it dawned on me: we’re naked, spaced out and hallucinating…this can’t be healthy.

“What are you thinking?” I asked.

“I think…I’m reading your mind.”

“…hope you enjoy reading really wild fantasy then–hey! are those tiny elves I see frolicking on you?!”

From her recumbent position she looked at me suggestively and said:

“…sure are…wanna join ’em?”

She parted her legs wide allowing my frame to berth. Her honey skin had a powdery fine smoothness and a exquisite floral scent. As if some valve suddenly opened, a river of heat flooded my nether region. With my throbbing cock poised at her love lobby, she rolled her hips and eagerly received me. It was as though my whole being was suddenly bathed in liquid sunshine. With legs raised, she flexed her sugar walls up and down the length of my shaft…the pleasure was unimaginable.

“…r-right…there…,” she whispered. “…right…there…”

Almost involuntarily my thrusts quickened…

” …don’t stop…oh! d-don’t stop…”

Her drenched pleasure cove pulled at me like a vortex.

A force within me surged as I pounded this luscious lady…the slap of flesh echoed through her loft.

“I-I’M…C-COMING!!…” she cried.

Her hot, steaming sheath convulsed around me…


A grunt escaped me as her searing orgasm pushed me over the edge and my load blasted deep within her. Each orgastic spasm, in tandem, triggered another…and another…

Outside a soft, steady rain sought entrance to where we laid, blissfully, in the dark.

I see her and her cat, sometimes. We trade e-mails promising to get together, somehow I doubt it, and maybe it’s just as well. For you see, Flambe’ de la Soul is bad going in, but sheer HELL going out.

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