A Compelling Fragrance

Note: This vignette is the way I go about creating an "Enigmatic Character.(EC)" Every writer knows that a good novel or short story benefits from having one. Think about Forest Gump or Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. They start out as a rather ordinary supporting character and suddenly take off in the writer's imagination. I encourage them to become as outlandish and weird as I can make them and throw in a heavy dose of sexual energy. They lead me in directions I never imagined and suddenly instead of a bit part they take on a life of their own often eclipsing the person I was auditioning to become the central character. Later I can edit out the sensual prose and surprisingly they still retain all the energy and uniqueness they commanded in the original form.

Wanda

Wanda was not attractive. She was overweight, smug and walked around like a penguin.

She glanced at the calendar. On it were some artsy little stick-on flowers. One was pasted on the third day in May. On the sixteenth, she had another. The flowers were to remind her about the curse. This were not exactly the same as the word implies. Other girls experience a menstrual cycle and she had that one too, not a big deal. No, hers, harkened back to a more primordial time, a recessive gene if you will. One which exuded a wafting scent that followed her about, hanging in the air,,, exercising an aroma that was both subtle and powerful, One which which made men take notice. So it was that day, the Sixteenth of May, Wanda was in full bloom, hard at work, with her blossom secreting those compelling pheromones.

She remembered when she was twelve, seeing a female basset, chased by a pack of hounds. Her mother told her, that this was normal when a a bitch went into heat. That the scent of the female would attract every male from blocks around. Glad I’m not a dog, she remembered thinking. Her mom went on to explain that for people it wasn't the same, as men didn't have to wait for a woman to come into season. Wanda never forgot her words. This was as close to a mother/daughter conversation as the two ever got. "Don't get a man "Lathered," her Mother warned, or he'll be wanting to stir your "Honey Pot."" It wasn't long afterwards that she found out exactly what her Mom was talking about.

As she got older, Wanda began to notice, that on the fourteenth day, following the onset of menstruation, she began to develop a scent. It smelled like lilacs and it was very subtle. It would hang elusively in the air for a day and during that period it had a compelling influence on the males around her. Actually, if you had to have one, this was not such a bad curse to have.

It wasn’t like the men would suddenly rush up and start groping her or anything like that, but rather how they’d gather around the water cooler, walk slowly by her desk, and pause to speak, where at other times, they hardly gave her the time of day.

As the afternoon came to a close, her boss summoned Wanda to his office. He looked like a pig and acted like a compete and total asshole. Then again he was no different than most men she knew, and he did have one redeeming quality. She always knew where she stood with him. To give the bastard credit he'd been up front with her in the job interview. She remembered her nervousness and how she stammered and fumbled with his questions. Nothing seemed to go right. Halfway through Mr. Jones rolled his eyes, looked up to the ceiling and said, "I've heard enough." He crumpled her resume and tossed it into the trash can.

She was ready to burst into tears.

Then he laid his cards on the table.

"Ms. Warshovloski, may I call you Wanda?"

She set her jaw, nodding it was OK. She felt miserable.

"Wanda, you see this stack of applications?"

"Yes."

"All the girls who applied for the position are as qualified as you are, except for one thing. You know what that is?"

She shook her head, in ignorance.

"I knew that none of them could fulfill all the requirements of the job, you know why?"

She as totally in the dark.

"Because," he continued, "They had scruples. Do you where I'm going with this?"

She was still mystified and shook her head back and forth.

"Then let me be candid. One of the requirements of the job is that you screw the boss."

His words were so unexpected. That they came as a complete and total shock! She gave him a "Huh?" look.

"And what is "Huh" supposed to imply?" he asked

Her surprise gave way to a complete understanding and a glimmer of hope flared in the dark cavern of her expectations. He had just told her that if she wanted the job she had to put out. Nothing subtle about that. Still, it wasn't like life's lessons hadn't prepared her. It wasn't like getting laid was some kind of traumatic experience she needed some counseling to deal with. What Wanda really needed was a lifeline to escape her dysfunctional family and screwing the boss seemed a fair price to pay. After all, harassment and abuse were no strangers to her life.

She gave Mr. Jones a pasty smile and replied. "I wouldn't want a small matter like that, Sir, to get in the way of the job."

His voice blared over the intercom. “I need some “Dictation” Wanda. The way he said it put emphasis on the “Dict….“ She waddled over to the glass door and knocked. Just like a man, waiting until the last minute.. "Come in."

Wanda took her seat. With a wiggle, she squirmed to pull the hem over her knees. Her hips and thighs made that impossible. Abandoning the attempt, she took out her steno pad and paused, waiting for him to begin.

“Ahem! Ahem,” said Mr. Jones, clearing his throat. “To Hammurabi Smith and Associates:" His nose jerked suddenly like a hunting dogs'. She smiled knowingly. If I keep this up maybe he'll raise a paw. He became aware that something was amiss and it perplexed him, still he went on. "It has come to our attention that your firm is once more delinquent…”

I wonder how long before he makes one of his his signature moves? Will it be the shoulder rub or the breast fondle?

"...If payment is not received in one week we will be forced to seek a legal remedy!"

She spread her thighs as wide as the skirt allowed. Beads of sweat formed on the insides of her legs combining with the odor wafting up.

His nostrils twitched. “Do you think that’s too strong an opening?” he asked, solicitously as his hands began massaging her shoulders.

Aha, right on cue. Wanda shifted her fanny. "The opening is just fine, sir," she replied. More than adequate for that tiny penis of yours.

Ordinarily, he treated her with ambivalence. Ordinarily, he didn’t give a damn what she thought. Ordinarily, he was a million miles away when he fucked her on the couch. Then, once he got off on her, remorse would set in. Like a light switch the whole atmosphere of the office would abruptly change. He was ashamed of cheating on his wife and even more guilty about doing it with Wanda. You could cut the oppression with a knife. Wanda's nickname was "The Imp," and it aptly described her. There was a perversity to banging a midget that was not lost on his self esteem.

He began to perspire, and the sweat overwhelmed his deodorant. He started smelling like a migrant. He stepped behind, looking over her shoulder, Like he can read my shorthand, like he's really thinking about the next stupid sentence. His zipper poked out brushing her neck. It was cold and metallic and around the edges she could feel a wet spot forming on the brown fabric of his slacks. A fly started buzzing around and she shooed it away. The room had the aroma her brothers used to leave, after they whacked off in the bathroom.

The phone rang providing a welcome relief. “Let me give this matter some more thought,” he said. “Allow me to collect my thoughts and we’ll continue tomorrow.”

She got up and walked back through the outside office. Several of her male coworkers were standing in the vicinity, grinning. They knew what was going on. Their aftershave reminded her of the men’s cologne counter at Macy’s. She would have thought by now they’d have learned the meaning of “moderation.”

She adjusted her blouse and waddled towards them, letting her body exude the power of her scent. They made way uneasily, torn between nervousness and a thin veil of vulgar thoughts. She raised her chin, and with regal distain, toddled proudly towards the elevator.

Upon arriving she stood alone waiting. When the door opened she saw Jody, standing in the back as it emptied. All the young girls had a crush on him. His jaw dropped open. She put a hand on his chest and pushed him backwards. The door closed behind them and the car began to descend. She pressed the emergency stop button and the elevator lurched to a halt. The air conditioning shut down. It was close quarters.

“Oops!” she said sarcastically, “Wrong button.” She pulled up her skirt and set her feet defiantly. There were no panties to conceal the obscenity of her raw nakedness, only a tangle of wet drooling hair. Her hand began fanning upwards between her legs. The smell of lilacs filled the confined space. It was pungent. Jody had a wild eyed look, his face pleading. She turned to him livid with rage.

“Isn’t there something you need to apologize for?”

“What have I done?” he replied with pretended innocence.

"You Bastard! You've been avoiding me and talking shit."

"That's a lie, I'd never do that!"

"Then why don't you answer your phone? Why don't you answer my texts and emails? Carl says you told him I walk like a Penguin and waddle like a duck."

"I never said anything of the sort..."

"Liar! I hate liars! Now, you best start making amends. I'm angry and it's best you 'fess up and cop some forgiveness. She stepped closer, still fanning. “How about it Jody, cat got your tongue?”

The effect was overwhelming, filling the confines of the elevator. His nostrils flared, lust swept over him and he slumped weakly to his knees. An erection stirred and wouldn't stop growing. He fumbled with his belt buckle and unsnapped his trousers to make room. All he could think about was fucking her.

"I'm sorry Wanda, I didn't mean it. It was a stupid joke between Carl and I..., one I regretted it as soon as I said it..., I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings."

"Words don't hack it Jody, I want a token of sincerity, something I can redeem."

"Don't do this Wanda, please...." He continued to swell, the pain becoming intense. "We can go out to dinner tonight," he begged.

She grabbed his ears in both hands and twisted. “...And what else?”

“A movie, I’ll take you to a movie.” He struggled to escape her grip and the overpowering aroma.

“And then?”

“We’ll go to my place. Please Wanda, you're hurting me."

“You’ve been a bad boy, Jody, and I'm gonna teach you a lesson. I'm gonna scrub that lying mouth of yours." She began rubbing the font of her womanhood back and forth across his lips.

He groaned. She continued the punishment without remorse. His ears cried out, and the agony from his erection grew more excruciating. The concentrated odor of lilacs became a pall. The sweet stench made him retch. He sagged on the verge of losing consciousness.

Satisfied with the pussy whipping, Wanda relented. Reaching down she gave his cock a squeeze. It began to relax and the pain started to subside.

"Don't you ever cross me again!"

"I won't Wanda, I swear I won't." All he could think about was her vagina. The vision of hoisting her up on his petard and thrusting deep, cried out from every pore and fiber.

"Seven o’clock sharp and don’t keep me waiting.”

She hit the Resume button, and there was a whirring sound. The door opened as Jodie scrambled to get his pants pulled up and belt buckled. A crowd had formed waiting for the elevator. The boarding passengers couldn't help but notice that something was amiss as Jody finally got his zipper pulled up.

Wanda smiled at everyone as she debarked, bobbed out into the foyer and disappeared into the crowd. Yes, the day started out boring, but it got better and maybe tonight it'll finish with a real bang.