Velvet II

With an expression of dawning understanding, Beatriz ceases her flow of tears.

-“Oh yeah, I’ve heard about that.

It is common knowledge that Alberto Fujimori consulted a cadre of witch doctors, and that’s how he ruled the country both terms -- under the influence of them.

He frequently traveled to the Amazon jungle for counsel and protection.
But look how sick he is now; they say that there can be terrible consequences for dealing with that stuff.” Beatriz said with note of alarm.

-“There is white and there is black magic. And there are prospective governing armies of spirits for those.

When you deal with magic, you open a door, and something that is given, must be taken elsewhere. Would you dare to play with magic to get him back?” Carmen asked with mild curiosity.

-“I don’t know.

And besides, if I were to get him back, it would really not he him, you know. It would be a mirage, just a shell of the man and a diluted essence of who he is.

His strength and character which is what I am mainly drawn to, would be somehow usurped in the process by a caricature of his self.

I …I really don’t know, but I think that I am under a spell myself that must be broken. He’s in my thoughts constantly and in my blood which pumps in a never-ending cycle and burns for him.

Life has ceased to be a simple joy Carmen.

Sometimes I wish that my exit would be expedited. At least that’s what I requested to Santa Claus.” Beatriz said looking utterly dejected.

-“What the heart feels, is what your lips speak. Look at you; you have the saddest eyes. You need to start healing soon.
While you’re thinking about it, have you considered the healing power of touch?

From ancient times there have been temples worshipping the Goddesses of love, Ishtar and Aphrodite just to name a few.

In those temples, highly skilled priestesses called on the Divine Feminine to transmit with intent the healing energy of sexuality to heal and also to alleviate male aggression.

When one has sexual intercourse -- provided the energy is positive, one does not only connect with bodily parts, but also with that person’s soul.
That is why one must discriminate with whom to engage in such play.

But on the same token, engaging with someone who is generous and wants to help you heal soon, will in fact have a positive effect on you.

Just food for thought.” Carmen offered as an alternative.

-“Thanks Carmen, but where do I find a male version of those healing priestesses'? Post on Craig’s List under casual, yet healing encounters?

By the way, how would I go about putting a spell on this guy if I have nothing of his? Not even a picture. I purposely got rid of every reminder of him – literally.” Beatriz said with a frown.

-“Hmm... that is a tough one. You would have to ingeniate how to acquire something of his, even if it's just one strand of hair.
Do you think that you can do that?” Carmen asks.

-“If I really wanted to, I think that I could create an encounter.
But I’m not ready to; I don’t know how I would react in his presence. Yet, would pulling a hair strand from his scalp, not seem a bit odd?

Or perhaps I can contrive to be in such a situation that I perform oral sex on him, and in the moment of climax, pluck out a pubic hair!” Beatriz says with mock resolution followed by synchronized laughter.





Beatriz ran as fast as her high heeled shoes would permit her.
This made her look comical as her movements were economical, yet loud as she sprinted while tapping the marble flooring with a Morse code.

-“HOLD THE ELEVATOR!” Beatriz requested as she barely made it in. –“Thank you very much, I am running late.” She offered a smile of gratitude to the man sharing the elevator ride.

-“You’re most welcome, which floor would you like?” The man wearing a smart business suit cordially asks.

He seems very nice, and kind, and look at his hands! And he smells oh, so very, very nice.

Indicating the floor number, Beatriz maneuvers to stand just behind him and inhales discreetly a big whiff of his cologne which she absolutely adores instantly. His scent makes her weak on the knees.

If only I dared to ask for his number. But how? Using which excuse? Think damn it! There’s so little time left!

-“Do you work in this old building? I love old art deco buildings.”

-“No, I am just visiting a client. This is a lovely old building though. They don’t make them like this anymore.” The man in the smart suit politely answers.

You certified moron. Think fast!

Her idyllic appreciation of her elevator companion is suddenly paused by a jolt of the creaking old elevator which has stopped.

-“Don’t worry miss; I’m sure this will be taken care of promptly.” The man in the smart business suit offers as he plays with the emergency buttons.

Almost instantaneously the dreaded feeling of claustrophobia insidiously creeps upon Beatriz.
She starts to feel an abnormally accelerated heart beat, and chills run down her spine, even though she is starting to perspire simultaneously.

With every second ticking at a crawling pace, Beatriz feels herself start to panic and her air passages seem to contract. She paces the minuscule space back and forth like a caged wild animal and then starts taking off her shoes and coat.

-I can’t breath! I have to get out of here! Please call someone!” Beatriz labors to breathe and resorts to taking off her blouse to ventilate.
This exposes the expanse of her velvety breasts.



To be continued….