"Thank you for meeting me, Bryce."
"What do you want, Patrice?"
He was always sharp with me. Always mean and nasty. It was because I was ugly, I know. My hair was short and wiry and steel gray since I was 23. I had no figure. I was tall but pear-shaped. My butt was too wide, my chest too flat. My teeth were my only good point — white, straight, perfect thanks to years of braces. But my nose was crooked and my eyes were set too close together and noticeably uneven.
Still, I was intelligent and having people I worked with sneer at me because I wasn't a beauty queen hurt.
Especially Bryce. Bryce was the kind of boy I'd always dreamed would one day look past my witch-like exterior and see my inner beauty. Bryce was handsome and charming when he wanted to be. A modern Clark Gable complete with thin mustache. I would have given anything for him to notice me. I would have given anything for anyone to notice me.
Last Friday, however, Bryce went too far. He turned on the charm and talked me into coming in over the weekend — under the pretense that he would be there as well — but left me to do all the work on my own. I prize my weekends; I don't have to deal with anyone else's disapproval once I close my front door.
Bryce had to pay. And I knew how.
"Can I buy you a drink?" I asked him.
"Sure." He shrugged, finished the one in his hand and tapped the glass. He looked at his watch. "I'm meeting friends in 30, so don't drag this out."
The bartender brought two glasses over and I picked them both up. "Let's sit over there. Drag what out?"
"I'm guessing you're still pissed about last week."
"A little." I admitted.
"Yeah, well, sorry. Something came up."
I nodded. "Yes, I thought that's what it was." I handed him his drink.
"I didn't mean to leave you stuck." He said insincerely.
"I didn't think you'd be that mean to me."
His smile got a little warmer but his eyes were colder. "No, no, of course not. You're actually a pretty good Joe, all things considered."
I pretended that was a compliment. "Really? Thank you. I didn't think anyone noticed my work."
"Oh your work is great! In fact," He swallowed half the drink and leaned in closer, "I lost out not coming in last weekend."
"Oh yeah. Marco was very impressed. In fact, I'm thinking that next weekend we ought to try it again — only with me there."
"Yeah." He finished the drink. "What do you think?"
I think I can't believe he thinks I'd fall for such a weak deception. "I think that would be super! I mean, if you don't mind working with me."
"Why would I mind that?"
"Well," I looked away, "I'm not very pretty."
"Aw come on! You've got a lovely, uh, uh..." He picked up his glass again and frowned to see it empty. "Is it hot in here or is it just me?"
"No, it's pretty hot. You want another round?"
I flagged a waitress — a pretty blond on whom Bryce's eyes lingered — and ordered two more drinks. Bryce and I discussed the office while we waited for the drinks.
When they arrived, he stared down her low cut top and I took the glasses from her. When she finally left the table, I handed Bryce his glass.
"Oh hey thanks, Trice." He took a sip and then shook his head. "Oh man, I am wasted this week! Hey, how come nobody calls you Trice?"
"My friends do call me that." I simply have no friends.
"Well, I'm callin' you Trice from now on. Trice." He giggled foolishly.
"I think it's time for you to go home."
"Can't. I'm meetin' Amel-Amer-Amanda at Eighth Heaven fer uh quickie." He slurred. "You ever have a quickie?"
"I think you should get a cab." I paid for the drinks and helped Bryce outside. "You know, I did drive to the office today, I could just run you home."
"Nononononononono." He pushed away from me and nearly fell over. "I don know whass wrong wi' me."
"You're just tired from work and had a little too much. Come on, handsome, let's go take a ride."
It took a little while, but Bryce and I made it to my car. Along the way, Bryce informed me that my problem was that my legs and arms were too skinny for any man to find them attractive. And that my hips were comically wide. And that I should invest in every cosmetic surgery known to man. In fact, they should invent a few for me.
I struggled to get him into the passanger seat and belted him in.
He sniffed loudly. "Geez-zus! What is that?"
I didn't answer, just closed the door and went around to the driver's side. "Where do you live?"
"Wess Bay." He slurred and sniffed again. "That's f-ed up perfume!" He leaned over and sniffed my shoulder. "Oh yeah, that reeks!" He continued to my neck and shoulders the whole drive, complaining the whole time about how bad they smelled.
Finally, we arrived and I got out and wrestled him out of the car as well. He groaned and fell heavily around me.
"Give me your keys." I said with the last of my patience.
"Your keys. I need your keys."
"Yeah, yeah." He fished in his pocket for a moment then handed me the ring.
At the front door he buried his face under my hair as if trying to inhale me. I fought him and the door for a moment but got it open and him inside.
"There." I closed the front door and locked it properly. "Now let's get settled in and I'll go home."
"Hey babe, what's the hurry? Stay awhile." He was swaying but more or less on his own feet. "Night coul'be fun."
"Now I know you're drunk."
"Shit! I am fucked up 'cause you ugly and I still wanna do you."
"Fuck it!" He lunged forward. "Com'ere, bitch!"
I took one step to the left and let him crash headlong into the breakfront.
"What the hell?" He mumbled as he slipped to the floor.
I knelt beside him and looked into his eyes. "It's definately time to get you settled in."
"Wha?" Was all he said coherently.
I took a moment to check that none of my collectables broke when Bryce hit my breakfront and then moved my sofa out of the way. I thought it would be easier to drag him into the back room than carry him. I did have to struggle a bit to get him on the bed but he didn't begin to come round until I'd finished tying his wrists and was working on his ankles. I thought the scarfs add a pretty touch. And even though Bryce was a jerk, I had to admit he looked good naked.
"Wha?" He moaned groggily.
"Hey Bryce." I tightened his last knot and then sat next to him on the bed. "How are you feeling?"
"P-p-patrice?" He tried to move and looked vaguely confused when he couldn't. "Wh-wh-where am am I?" I leaned forward and he took yet another whiff of my perfume. "Oh God!" He moaned.
"Bryce, you were right, I was very angry about last weekend. But this weekend, you're going to make it up to me."
"I I I, uh, h-h-how?"
"By spending the weekend with me, Bryce. And when you are done, I'm going to feel loved and special and you are going to feel worn out and used. Then we'll be even."
I reached behind me and caressed his johnson. I'd never touched one before I undress him earlier and still felt an ecstatic thrill travel up my arm. He had been semi-hard then but now it was fully inflated and felt like a lead pipe wrapped in satin. "You are going to use this on me for as long as it lasts."
"Oh God, baby!" His head fell back against the bed and his body shook. "Don't stop. Knock the easy one out, it will last all night."
"Oh there's no easy one tonight." I took my hand away and he groaned. "Besides, you're not quite ready."
"Oh I'm ready, babe, I'm ready." He looked at me still not quite lucid. "Patrice? Jesus, what a face! I'll bet you suck cock like a vacumn."
I couldn't believe his nerve. "You are a real jerk, you know that?"
"You're the jerk; teasing me with pussy and then not letting me have any,"
"I never teased you with pussy." Halucinations weren't one of the common side affects but then, these drugs weren't commonly used together.
"Hey, even trashed I know pussy when I smell it. Didn't have you pegged fer uh carpet muncher." He babbled on. "Can't stand the shit. Stick it, don't lick it." He giggled.
I filed that bit of trivia mentally. "It's not ... pussy. At least not directly. It's a pheromone mix designed to attach itself to the dopamine section of the brain. That's the section that controls sex. Well, in part. At any rate, I'm telling you this now because I can see your pupils dilating slowly. You see, you're drunk."
He giggled. "No shit."
"But not on the alcohol you drank at the bar. That was just a conveyance."
"A way to slip you a very specific micky. Two of them, in fact. One of them is an intoxicant. It reacts very quickly in the blood stream but cleans out of the body very, very slowly. It will keep you essentually drunk until at least Monday morning. And the hangover! Whew! Well, you'll learn about that." I leaned forward again just so I could watch him struggle to reach me. "The other thing coursing through your bloodstream right now is a, well, you know about those little blue pills?" I reached over and stroked him again. He moaned and twitched. "This is sort of its deformed brother. It does all the same things the pill they sell does but it has a rather evil side effect in that it creates flashbacks like LSD does."
"You slipped me wha?"
I had to laugh. "You poor confused thing. I gave you a little insurance to make sure you can play all weekend and that you'll remember it for a long long time."
.... There is more of this story ...