It's been five days since that puzzling encounter with those two enigmatic girls, Marie and Edith, who seem to be pure materialization of all my fantasies. Five days without any clue on that so-called mission I have accepted. Now I'm back to work and God knows where to search for the Royal Glove. And God knows if I'm really going to search for it. After all, what can they do if I decide to forget about this mission? Kill me? I don't think so. But as they said, I'll miss a lot of good time if I don't do my job. And I think that those glovegirls can be very skilful when playing with someone's body. I've witnessed and tasted their talent.

  So here I am, at the hardware store, waiting for customers. As it's pretty calm down here, I'm doing some dusting here and there, hoping the time will pass not too slowly. At 15h00, it seems stopped. As the boss is out, I just talk and joke with Martin, the guy at the cash register. At 15h15, the door opens. A draft of fresh air enters, followed by a lady.

  -- Steve, says Martin. Don't miss this one.

  I turn my head to take a look at this new customer. She's walking towards me and I feel electric charges running up and down on my spine. My face must be turning wine red as she says:

  -- Hi! Can you help me?
  -- Of.. of course!

  She must be twenty eight or twenty nine, with long curly golden hair falling on her fur covered shoulders. Indeed, she is so cute in her silver fox coat that I suddenly feel the need to hug her. But I control myself. "Caaalm Steve. Don't look at this thick inviting fur. Don't looke at those high shiny black leather boots. Don't look at those fine lamb leather covered hands (my God!) emerging from under the grey fur." She's looking at me straigth in the eyes. I must appear obviously nervous. My friend Martin is watching me with a little smile.

  -- I have some pictures to hang and I'm looking for a good hammer.
  -- Hammer? Yes. Follow me.

  I walk to the other end of the store. She's following me. I hear her footsteps, the noise of her heels on the floor: "clak, clak, clak". I take a look at the hammer display and select one that's not too heavy for her. I show her the hammer and she takes it. Her leather fingers slide gently on my open hand as she takes the tool. Was this caress intentional?

  -- It seems small, she says. Is it a good one?
  -- Yes, for small repair jobs. I also have this one. Try it.

  I handle her another hammer. This time, the fingers pass on my wrist, on my palm and on my thumb. Smooth as a breeze. This time, there's no doubt. As the erection comes, she compares both hammers in silence. I see the cuffs of her gloves disappearing in the furry sleeves of her coat. When she lowers her right hand, a silver bracer slides slowly on her wrist and then vanish when the black leather hand go up.

  -- I'll take the first one. I find it cute!
  -- It's a good choice. Perfect for what you want to do. Need anything else?

  She closes her blue eyes as she search her memory. Her leather fingers are caressing the handle of the hammer. Slowly up. Sllllooowly down. My hands are crossed in front of my bulged pants to hide the evident expression of my desire.

  -- Yes! Glue!
  -- Sorry?
  -- I need some Crazy Glue. You have it?
  -- Sure.

  We walk a few steps. "Clak, clak" again. Sweet music. I take a tube of Crazy glue on the rack and give it to her. Again, the leather touch me. She takes the tube but drop it. Just between her leather feet.

  -- Oh! I'm so clumsy.
  -- No problem. I'll take it.

  I kneel before her. The two tall booted legs are so close to my face that I can smell the leather. As I grab the tube, I feel a hand on my shoulder. Her hand, of course! I hesitate. I want to plunge my face in the grey fur, I want to lick her boots, kiss that leather hand whose presence on my shoulder is simply driving me crazy. My heart beats so fast. But again, I regain control of myself and stand straight before her. The hand leaves me. With a serious voice, I say:

  -- You're one of them, aren't you?
  -- Sorry?
  -- You know what I'm talking about. I mean... the hammer, the glue. Is it some kind of message?

  She looks surprized. How can she? After all, one more second kneeled before her and she would probably have lowered her skirt and, with her hand, drived gently my head just between her thighs.

  -- Well... I just need this stuff and that's all.
  -- Okay, okay. Lets put it straight: do you have... something special to tell me?
  -- I want to pay cash.
  -- I'm really going nowhere and I need some help. We can... we can go to the backstore if you have secret informations.
  -- What?
  -- On wich side are you: the Dark or the Heavenly Ones?
  -- I think your nuts!

  She drops the hammer and the glue. The hammer falls... right on my big toe. Whack! I can't retain a scream of pain and frustration. The girl leaves, apparently angry. Jumping on my only valid foot, I manage to walk to the cash register where Martin is waiting, arms crossed, with that little unbearable mocking smile.

  -- You casanova!
  -- Oh just shut up...

  I'm home earlier today. Tired. I was suppose to work until 5h30 but it's 3h30. Enough is enough. Martin is a good guy and is able to do the job alone for two hours. I'll tell the boss I was sick. Again. Doesn't matter. I just want to reach my bed, jump on it, relax and get some sleep.

  I climb the stairs slowly. I don't feel the pain on my big toe anymore but the humiliation remains. I got myself too much deeply into this stupid glove thing. A mission... Pff!! I must forget it for a while. I must get back to reality. Back to normal life, doing a normal day at the store, talking to normal customers (or girls) and behaving normally. That was not hard to do some weeks ago, before I met this Dr. Lantier. Before that troubling hypnosis therapy full of vivid images of a cute and very well gloved lady called Alicia that probably lived 100 years from now. Just forgetting all this madness. That shouldn't be too hard to do now. But only after a good sleep.

  I unlock my appartment's door. The key turns into the barrel. Click! I try to open the door but it's still locked. I turn the key again. Click! The door opens. I must be really tired. No, wait a minute. If I turn the key and the door doesn't not open, it's simply because it's was not locked first. Maybe I forgot that detail this morning when I left. It happens to me sometimes. I must be more cautious or I'll get robbed one day.

  I turn the light on, remove my wet boots and coat. It's a real mess in here. But all I want to see is the door leading to my bedroom. God it will be great to sleep! I walk slowly through the kitchen and into my bedroom. It's dark. I try to reach the switch. I almost have it. Here we... No. I touch something on the wall. Something over the light switch. A very familiar contact, very smooth and buttery.

  The gloved hand that was hiding the light switch, waiting for mine, closes like a trap on my wrist, squeezing it badly. The second after, light flood the room. There's a woman before me, all dressed in black. She wear a thight catsuit that fit her body like a second skin, high heels and those short black leather gloves that I've touched first. Her head is bald, her lips dark and glossy and her eyes deeply blue.

  -- Hello darling, she says. Happy to meet you at last.

  And she hit me right in the belly with her fist. Bang! And again. I'm bent and I can't breathe anymore. Another blow comes from her leather covered knee right on my face. I'm thrown a few feet behind, right on my bed.

  -- Stop thaaaat!
  -- Come on, baby. Stand up. Can't you do more than that? Can't resist my charm?

  Something hot on my chin: blood. Christ! I try to get on my feet. I feel dazed by those blows but I can still stand on my feet. As soon as I stand up, I receive another hard punch on the right cheek. My head bangs against the wall. "She wants to kill me. I'll die in a few seconds", I tell myself as the dark lady raise her foot to administer the final blow. In a fast and desperate move, I jump to my right and her feet goes -Bang!- into the wall.

  -- You will regret this!

  I take the first object near me, my dictionnary, and throw it in her direction with all the power I can find. The book hit her violently on the head and she back up a bit, staggering. I take those precious seconds that I've won to pass again over my bed and reach the kitchen. As I pass near her, she gives a poweful kick but hit the air behind me.

  -- I'll kill you!
  -- I know.

  She's after me, just behind. I take a chair and hit her with it. No great results as she continues to advance, preparing some impressive karate moves. On my left, on the counter, a dirty fry pan. Quickly, I take the pan and swing it towards her. Wang! I hit the demoness just over the right eye. This time she falls on the floor. She moves, trying to crawl. And then... she stops.

  Silence.

  Someone knocks at the door.

  -- Mister Beaulieu! Mister Beaulieu! What's happening? Are you ok?
  -- Uh... Yeah. I'm allright.

  It's Mr. Richer, the landlord.

  -- What happened?
  -- I was trying to... move my furniture... you know, doing some changes around.
  -- Are you ok? Need help? You seem...
  -- Yes. The worst is done now. Sorry for the noise.
  -- Uh... No problem.

  I hear his footsteps in the stairs. He's gone.

  Now, what am I doing?

  I'm sitting in front of the panther. She's still unconscious. I tied her up on a chair a few minutes ago. Solidly. I'm in the darkness, in front of a beautiful woman who almost killed me and I try to figure out what I will do with her. Should I call the police? I don't think so. I may put myself into more and more problems. And I don't need any other problems right now. I need solutions.

  I put an ice bag on my nose for a few seconds to make the pain disappear. The girl is really beautiful. But so dangerous. She has a bruise over her eyebrow where the pan hits her. Head shaved, heavy makeup... Is it the girl that knocked me out after the theft at Wilsons? I don't think so. The other one was taller. This one is delicate, in fact, very delicate for a so ferocious creature. She's probably from the Dark Ones. So, they already know who is suppose to infiltate them. Before it ever begins, the plan is allready over. Great mission!

  Her gloved hands rest on her thights. Her arms are tied but not her hands. Short leather gloves with a strange pattern sewn on their back. I try to learn more about this detailed embroidery. It's dark and I don't see much. I've turned off the lights. I don't want her to wake up too soon. I wan't to have time to think before facing her again. But I want to learn more about her gloves. So I take her left hand in mine. The gloves are soft. Very soft. Not new but still terribly attracting. How many faces have they beaten up? My heart goes faster. I check the girl's pretty face: no sign of waking up. So I carefully examine the pattern on the glove: it's a crescent, a crescent moon and an half opened hand that reach for it. The crescent almost form a "D" and the fingers of the hand form a "O". "D.O." Dark Ones, of course.

  Her hand is still in mine. I should not do this but I simply can't resist. With my trembling fingers, I start to caress her gloved hand, the moon pattern, the palm, the thumb. Then crazy ideas come in my head. I leave the inanimated hand and walk in the kitchen, trying to think to anything except what I just thought of. "You're nuts! Don't do this. But... I will be so good! Don't, don't, DON'T." I stand before the girl. Her hands are lying a few inches from me, half opened, like on the embroidery. Half opened but in a very inviting way.

  "She will kill me if she wakes up." I lower my pant and my short. "If she wakes up and grab my cock, she will tear it off and eat it for supper."

  Madly, feverishly, I take her leather hands and place them on my hard cock. After that disastrous day, that sweet and heavenly contact just comes as the long awaited relief. I wrap her fingers aroung my glan and my shaft, caressing myself with the dark girl's hands. Those same hands that agressed and hit me. I never thought I was like this but I find that danger is really turning me on! I'm happily surprised by this new side of my personality as I begin to go back and forth between her marvelous leather hands. To do this, I must almost sit on her knees. Her face is just near my nipples. If she wants to bite one, she just has to open her mouth. But I don't care. I forget everything, including the pain from what the girl has done to me an hour ago. I just want to fuck her hands. Back and forth. Fucking slowly. My penis begins to lubricate the leather so it slides more smoothly on it. It's so good! Her hands are hot, terribly hot and I go faster and faster between them. Then, the pleasure comes. It's a blinding explosion that shakes my body. I feel the dark girl's hands all soaked with my sperm. I slowly leave my motionless sexual partner and witness what I've done: sperm everywhere on her black leather gloves, on her thights, on her knees. I Think I've never ejaculated so much!

  She hasn't moved an inch. Now what am I going to do with that mess? Clean it? Does this bitch deserve respect after what she has done to me?

  I go to the bathroom, wash my hands and slowly wash my body while thinking. Then, I take a towel and wet it. At least, I'm going to wash her gloves. I don't know why I'm doing this but I prefer to erase all traces of this event before the girl wakes up. I close the light and go to the living room again.

  The seat is empty, except for the rope lying on it.

  The girl is gone.