All out and Over

She knew. Before the young fire starter walked into the room, she knew the girl would be coming by. After playing her role of Madame for so long, Malory learned to be more perceptive than most; although Cara was wild like the fire she wielded, she was still predictable. ‘A predictable little girl,’ Malory thought almost venomously as she tucked a stray curl back into place. It was one of the things that made Malory want to play with her, to mold her into a doll for her amusement.

In some ways she resented Cara’s youth; in others she admired it. The young girl’s body was still firm and perky, something men wanted. ‘Even if there isn’t much to it.’ Malory pushed her bust up slightly as she looked in the mirror. ‘I need a new bra.’

There was something that made the little girl too trusting. Something that drew her straight into Malory’s arms. ‘Foolish little girl,’ she laughed to herself. Malory was determined. This time she would not be the one on her knees begging. No, this time she would be the one in control

“I said I’m home!” Cara yelled. Malory had to physically stop herself from rolling her eyes at the girl’s impatience.

She finished washing her hands—touching all those lowly men and tearful women always made her feel dirty, and not in a good way—before she pulled the dark purple curtains open and tied them back. The glittering beads rattled together like a snake’s tail as she walked through them. Tarot cards still lingered on the table in front of Cara, as if she were the last client to use them, but that fortune did not belong to the fire starter; Malory didn’t bother cleaning them up. There was no need to hide the items in her tent from Cara; she’d seen it many times over the last few weeks and still understood nothing of the cards or tea leaves Malory used deceptively. ‘Dmitri used to say the same thing, before he met this little tart!’ Malory could almost hear his voice purring through her tent after a wrestle with his lions, but it was nothing more than his new toy, his downfall.

Her red corset was strewn crookedly across her chest. Those awful too short striped shorts she insisted on wearing appeared to be hastily put on considering Malory could see the lacey strings Cara called undergarments clinging to her boney hips. The make-up she helped her with earlier was smeared all over her face, and the smell of guilt and sex swept across the room through the thick incense. It made Malory’s stomach churn in disgust and maybe a little jealousy. She ran her hands over her wide hips, smoothing down her favorite Victorian styled black and white striped costume dress.

“How was it?” she asked with that forced smile that seemed more real than forced. It was a façade she’d perfected years ago. “Did you please him?”

“You know,” Cara stated, putting her hands on her hips, “I’m beginning to feel like you’re my pimp, not my friend.”

Malory didn’t hold back the eye roll this time. “I don’t know what you mean!” She turned around and found the large tin tub she used to scrub herself when she needed a proper bath. “We better clean you up before someone mistakes you for a broken doll.”

“Who would mistake me for a doll? You’re the one with the pretty features.” Cara rolled her eyes and followed as Malory moved passed the tarot card table. They walked through thecurtain of rattling snake beads to the back of the dark purple tent. The more the sun sank the more Malory’s tent decent into darkness.

“Are you trying to suck up to me?” Malory said over her shoulder. “There’s no need for that; I’m not Dmitri.” Even though she wasn’t looking at her face, she knew Cara’s cheeks were flushed at least three shades of red, possibly even purple.

She struck a match and lit a single candle as she walked. There were enough of the various colored wax objects to provide enough light to make her tent appear as if it had electricity. The fire surrounded Cara, and burned in her eyes. She paused staring aimlessly into the orange glow. ‘Not this again! She’s worse than that damned cat.’ Malory snapped her fingers to gain the arsonist’s attention when the tub was filled. “You can undress yourself, right?” Malory chided with a sly grin.

“Of course I can!” Cara yelped

“Well, what are you waiting for? It’s not like we have all night to clean you.” Malory tapped her toes impatiently against the rough floor of her tent. ‘Some of us have early mornings since our jobs can be seen well enough during daylight hours.’

Cara moved her arms to her back, unlacing the strings that were already half unlaced. She threw the corset on the floor revealing her rumpled red and black bra. The garter and the garter belt with her stocking fell to the floor soon after. Those hideous red and white striped shorts slid down those long pale legs that Malory would’ve killed to have and were kicked to the side. Cara’s stomach was flat with the hint of a four pack, her long legs were lean and firm, and her breasts, even though they were small, still stood on their own. Malory wanted to slap the lack of self-esteem out of her. She was young, vivacious. ‘I won’t be thrown away again.’ Malory thought as she watched the young girl kick her thong into her shorts and drop her bra on the floor.

“Go on. It might be a little chilly, but you can’t expect a warm bath this time of night.”

She pushed her flaming hair back as she stepped into the water. A little splashed on Malory. ‘I’m not the one who needs the bath, Sweetie.’ Cara sat obediently with a small shiver as Malory began scrubbing the dirt from her back.

“Now be a good girl and tell me what happened.”

“Why?” Cara whined. “You never tell me what he does with you.”

Malory grabbed her chin and pulled it around so they were eye to eye. “He doesn’t do anything with me because he’s got you.”

“Still…” Cara pulled her chin away from Malory’s grasp.

“If we are going to do this we need to share, Doll. You’re not sharing.” Malory pushed her arm forward and began scrubbing her left side and then the right. The black soot from her fire act and the sweat began to stain the water. A shiver crept up the older woman’s spine as she remembered things she longed to forget.

Malory was young, but not young enough for him. She saw them. In her own bed, she saw them together. He made her run away from her life, her family, her home; and this is how she was thanked. Screams of ecstasy curled around her, forcing her fists closed. She couldn’t stop herself, couldn’t stop her feet.

The door banged open as the strange woman’s head bobbed up and down with the movements of her hips. She turned and smiled at Malory. Moan’s escaped her while her neck arched back, his hands gripping her hips keeping her balanced on him.

“You bastard!” She screamed. The strange woman was in the floor within seconds. From the angle she landed, Malory could tell, she wasn’t a woman. No, she was a child! Fifteen years old, maybe. “Get out of my house.” She screeched at the limber girl. She threw a flower print dress over her head and ran; her white bikini panties still in Malory’s floor.

All the blood on her hands washed away in this tin tub just as the soot and grime washed away from Cara. She may not have been fifteen like the other girl in Malory’s past, but the older woman was damned if she’d let this young brat come in and take over.

“Tell me,” Malory said as she ran the sponge down Cara’s arms. “We promised not to get mad about these things.” She moved around the tub to get a better angle at Cara’s chest. She stretched her legs out over the side of the tub sending water all over Malory’s floor as she took a deep breath.

“He was at my show. The flames already had me bothered, and one thing led to another…” Cara trailed off her eyes not quite meeting her friend’s. “I hate how good he feels.”