By Lucas

Just for kicks I told her the truth. Okay, it had a lot to do with her small tits that I could see through her transparent shirt and perhaps I had a bit too much to drink at that bar that night but I thought "why not?" I'd try the truth for once and see what it got me.

"How did I know you suck your brother-in-law's cock?" I said. "Or are you more curious as to why I would sit next to you in a crowded bar and say something like that?"

"Yeah, both," she said a bit feisty. Gods, I did love short hair blondes. Short hair is the best for giving blowjobs.

"The truth is, it's magic," I said. "I know everything there is to know when it comes to a woman's secrets. I can look at you and you glow with a hundred lights with your guilt. When I get closer, I can see each individual piece of guilt like it has its own separate bulb."

"Bullshit," she laughed. "This is some kind of a line."

"No, really," I said. "I can see that you're not wearing panties and that you never wear panties to work either. I see it because it gets you off and you feel guilty for it."

She snorted. "You can tell I'm bare from the tight jeans, and you're guessing about work."

I shrugged. "Fair enough. What about the fact that you kissed your coworker's boyfriend at the Christmas party when she wasn't looking? I can see that you loved the way he stared at you for the whole night, ignoring the bitch you work with."

Her blue eyes narrowed and she really looked at me now. She could see that I was no loser. I work out and it shows. My curly blonde hair and blue eyes were attractive enough to pick up women without any crazy lines. Still she wasn't convinced.

"Lucky guess again," she said.

"If you think so," I said. "My name is Lucas, and yours?"

She took me hand. "Barbara," she said.

Ah, the power in a name. I have never given my true name myself until tonight but it was just that kind of a night. I held her name in my mind and the other parts of her opened to me like a lover's thighs.

"Well Barbara, let's get out of the realm of lucky guesses then, if you are game?"

She was. As long as I was buying drinks, she could try something new.

"You had you first orgasm at your senior prom. Your date had talked you into hiding behind the gym bleachers and he went down on you. You came almost instantly and have never cum so fast again."

"Think that was a guess? I know you name your vibrator, Brad. I know you never married Felix because his dick was so small and you couldn't get off on it and I also know you still feel guilty about letting that stop you. I can name your last six lovers, though two of them you only know their screen names. What I can tell you is that your last six lovers all belonged to someone else and that is why you seduced them."

"Holy shit," Barbara said. "Who are you?"

"I don't know any more," I said. "I'm what bad girls want. It's what I do."

She leaned closer and I could smell her perfume through the smoky haze of the bar. Her eyes were bright and intense, perhaps seeing something of my own guilt. When she leaned, I could see down her shirt to her sweaty breasts underneath.

"What do you want?" she asked. "Are you blackmailing me?"

It's what she wanted but for once I didn't take the bait. "No, I'm not blackmailing you, Barbara. I'm just a guy in a bar trying to impress a pretty lady so she'll take me seriously. It's not easy seeing the darker side of women all the time."

Barbara shook her head and lighted another cigarette. "How did you get like this?"

"Believe or not I worked for it. I studied magic. No, not the crap you see on stages with disappearing cars or the even more senseless crap you can buy in a candle shop. I'm talking real magic: the good shit. Real magic is as old as the first orgasm, as young as the first time a man jacks off. I studied and I studied and I worked hard for this gift. There are rituals that are perverse to the soul, and I did them gladly to do what I can do today."

"What? See what lurks in a women's mind?" Barbara asked. She smiled as she smoked. "I don't see what good it is other than scare the shit out of them. Unless you really are a blackmailer."

Her dismissal of my sacrifice annoyed me. "Its more than that. It's the ability to know what haunts a woman's dreams. It's the knowledge of the fantasies that a woman doesn't admit to no one but herself. Better yet, it's the power to know exactly what a guilty woman considers to be her just punishment and to deliver it. That is what I carry with me."

Barbara put her hand on my thigh and took another drag of her cigarette. "That's what you crave, isn't it? Punishing wicked women and having them like it. You have some serious hang ups."

I laughed and rested my hand on hers. "You're right. I do have issues. I would change if I could but it is too late for that. Now that I have the power, it swells up within me. When it does, I can't ignore it, I can't delay it and I can't put it aside till I find someone to punish and fuck."

She stubbed out her cigarette and took another drink. "Am I your next victim?" Barbara laughed a bit unconvincingly. "Sorry bud, you're barking up the wrong tree. I don't feel guilty for who I am. I like sex and I like to fuck. It's not the damn Sixties. I'm not one of those sad women that needs to be punished for having fun."

I held her hand a little tighter and poured some of my own power into her. Barbara gasped and her hard nipples poked against her shirt. My need was screaming at me to hurry but damn it, I was calling the shots tonight.

"I thought so too at first," I said. "I had hopes that you would be different. Your guilt shined the dimmest out of the women here tonight and I wanted to meet someone who could resist me because maybe it meant I could resist my own desires. It's not true though, is it?"

She clenched my hand tighter as my magic pulsed under her skin and broke down the walls she had erected. Barbara had always felt shame for the casual way she treated men but she had become an expert at burying it. She was afraid of commitment and she was still chasing other women's men just to prove commitment didn't work. Her guilt was always there, just under the surface where it ate and gnawed at her to the point that she seduced other women's men just to make herself feel better. These were modern times and it was wrong to feel guilty over sex but yet there it still was, as present today as it was a hundred years ago.

"Oh God," Barbara said. "It hurts." She clenched my hand so hard that her nails were drawing blood. "I've been terrible to all those men. And their wives!"

"I know," I said. I put my arm around her and hugged her, two lonely people hugging in a bar is as sad as you would imagine. For one brief moment I wondered if this would be enough to ease her pain.

"Do it," Barbara said in my ear.

"Do what?" I asked but I knew.

"Punish me," she whispered. "Take me, use me, I don't care but just do something."

"No," I said. "Now that you've got it out, you'll be better. Hiding it was what was making you suffer, this is only temporary."

She broke my hug and grabbed my shirt. Her eyes were not so pretty now. They were angry.

"You bastard," she yelled. "Give it to me! You can't do this to me and not help me! You've made me feel like shit! You've got to punish me! It's what you do!"