"I have no idea what could be so incredible in there," Chris said, gesturing to the tent, "but I'll admit I'm intrigued."
"Well, come right on in, my good man!" Argyle said with a smile, grabbing Chris by the arm, "Right this way!" Chris let himself be led into the tent, albeit rather hesistantly.
The tent was lit fairly dimly, by several lanterns hung near the roof of the big top. Chris was led to a large and comfortable chair in the center of the tent. He looked around, seeing no bleachers, nor a stage for any performers either. "Is this for real?" Chris asked.
"Oh, yes my friend," Argyle declared with a broad smile. "Our shows are very private, only one customer at a time." Argyle gestured for Chris to sit down. "Your entrance into the realm of curiosity is about to begin," he told him, waving his hands in the air dramatically, causing the lanterns to dim rather considerably.
Chris stifled a snicker at the cheap theatricality of it all, not impressed. Then a middle-eastern themed music filled the air, a belly-dancing tune, and SHE came out.
She was dressed in the silken garb of a belly dancer, with long, slightly wavy black hair that hung to her ass and tan skin. She was captivatingly beautiful, and Chris immediately felt a desire for her. She was petite, standing no more than five feet two inches, with round and perky breasts.
She stalked over to him, beginning to dance for him and only him, and the world seemed to twirl for a moment with her. She hovered, inches from his flesh, teasing him with both her eyes and her body, every now and again twirling and tossing aside a piece of silk.
Her body was flawless, every inch of it. Soon the song had ended, and she stood in front of him, barely covered by a scrap of silk across her breasts and around her waist. She leaned into him, sniffing his neck, sending a shiver of temptation up his spine, covering his skin in goosebumps. "I am Barbelo," she said, speaking in a voice accented by what seemed almost to be a gypsy accent, barely above a breathy whisper. "Do you want me?" she asked, running a hand along his thigh, causing him to jump slightly at the unexpected contact.
"Yes," Chris replied, his voice shaking slightly. It was overpowering how much he wanted her. Everything about her was exotic, from her figure to her skin, from her voice to her name. Everything about her simply engendered more desire from him. He reached out to touch her, and suddenly Argyle waved his hand, and Chris was thrown back into the chair, pinned against it and immobile. "What the hell?"
Chris asked, his eyes wide with shock and a little hint of fear. He had no clue how they could do that; he'd never seen a magic trick like that.
"Do you still want me, even though you are now at my mercy?" Barbelo asked, a smile on her face, full of dark and seductive promises.
"Yeah," Chris said.
"Are you curious, young one, about what it would be like to be with me, as a lover?" she asked, again leaning up to him, her lips brushing his neck this time, teasing him past the point of reason, even as he struggled to return the affection.
"Yes...yess.." he said, almost begging her.
"Tell me you're mine," she commanded.
"I'm yours," he told her. "Fulfill my curiousity about you," he said.
"My pleasure, young one," Barbelo said. Turning to Argyle she commanded, "Weave the moonspell upon me, my brother!"
Argyle stepped from the shadows, bearing a censer that billowed thick and heady incense smoke from the holes in its sides. He spoke in a tongue that Chris had never heard, let alone could make sense out of. He began to circle Barbelo, chanting faster, and Barbelo stood rigid, inhaling the fumes as they seemed to head for her.
Barbelo began to undulate again, running her hands up and down her lithe form, seeming to be in a sort of ecstatic trance almost. Her skin was covered in a sheen of sweat, and her body began to tremble slightly now. Argyle moved back a few feet, withdrawing from sight, and Barbelo opened her eyes, which glowed a baleful yellow as she smiled at Chris. Fangs began to protrude from her mouth, and a line of spittle ran down her chin as she growled at Chris, the growl of a predatory beast.