PHOTO BOOTH - A VARIATION


Robert had staked out the mall, waiting to see if his quarry would 
show. He leaned casually against a photo-booth and thumbed through a 
newspaper. A small earpiece let him hear communications between the 
men he had stationed around the mall—each of them with a photo of
the woman they sought.

The plan was to follow her when she arrived to exchange a currency 
plate for a briefcase full of money. The treasury department was 
willing to submit to her demands, but Robert's agency was here to 
ensure that she could be tracked back to her lair, for want of a 
better term. The money was in place, as was the tracking device. 
There wouldn't be any…..

He suddenly spotted her. Wearing a tailored, feminine suit, the 
blonde-haired beauty seemed to glide gracefully across the polished 
floor—the staccato click-click of her high heels keeping time as
her long, shapely legs propelled her…in the wrong direction. 
What? Clearly, she didn't have the briefcase, yet she was
heading away from the pickup point…and toward him.

Robert looked about. She was sure to see him when she got closer. 
He noticed that she was now veering toward a bank of pay phones. As 
she turned toward them, he slipped unobtrusively into the photo-
booth. With luck, he might even overhear some part of her 
conversation. He waited. Tense. Straining to listen.

A light went on in the booth, and he blinked, momentarily disoriented.

"Smile," came a relaxing, automated female voice from a
speaker.

There was a flash and a whir. He rolled his eyes. For gods 
sake. He continued to listen, hoping to get lucky.

"Smile." Again the flash and whir. Damned irritating. As
he blinked to clear his vision, the booth curtain was swept aside…
revealing the smiling woman. Alarmed and caught off-guard for a 
split second, Robert reached toward his jacket. The woman brought 
her hand up. It was holding a nasty-looking pistol.

"Ah-ah-ah…please don't get up." She smiled, slinked
into the cramped booth, closed the curtain and sat upon Robert's
lap—keeping the gun trained upon him. "I insist."

"Smile." The flash and whir again. She laughed lightly.

"I think I'll want a nice big enlargement of that. Now,
what's a nice, handsome piece of man like yourself doing at a
crime scene like this? I believe I specified no police
involvement."

"I…ummm…," he stalled.

The woman pressed the barrel of the pistol against his ribs. 
"Oh, you're not going to bore me with a lie, are you,
darling? That would be so tiresome."

Robert looked into her lovely eyes and saw a seriousness behind the 
playful exterior. "No."

She smiled. "Good boy."

"We won't stop you from taking the money," he said.

She stroked his cheek with a finger. "That's sweet of you,
dear, but, you see…I'm not here to collect the money. It was
never my intention."

His eyes narrowed. "But…we had a deal…"

"No, darling…I had a plan," she said happily.
"I'm not here for the money…I'm here for you."

"For…for me? Why?"

She smiled almost maternally, like she was having to explain the 
simplest thing to a child. She crossed her gorgeous legs comfortably 
and ran her fingers through his hair. "Let's just say that
you're a valuable bargaining chip. Annnnd…something I've
a feeling I won't be giving up terribly soon."

Robert scowled and considered reaching for his sidearm. His captor 
only pressed the pistol to him more firmly. "You won't be
able to take me out of here without being seen."

The woman laughed lightly and playfully tickled him under the 
chin. "You're sweet. Let that be my concern. No need to
worry your pretty little head about it."

She shifted her position slightly. "You're right, of course.
It wouldn't do to simply walk out of here arm-in-arm. I suspect
your word as a gentleman that you wouldn't raise an alarm would
not be quite the assurance I'd need. Now…what to do…what
to do?"

Robert simply ground his teeth as she mock-pondered. Surely the 
others would begin to wonder why he hadn't checked in.

"I know," she murmured with a smile. "I'll just tuck
you in for a little nap, and when you awake, we'll be someplace
more conducive to relaxed conversation. And such."

He bristled a bit, but she held the pistol unwaveringly. "Let me 
see..," she said. "What could…?" She smiled at him.
"I have it."

She reached into her jacket pocket and produced a small tube. She 
deftly turned the base of the tube with her free hand. It was…a 
lipstick.

"Not really my shade," she apologized. "But its
ingredients more than make up for any cosmetic faux pas."

Keeping her weapon trained on Robert, the woman carefully applied a 
coat of the lipstick to her full, inviting lips. She smiled 
seductively at her captive.

"I believe you might enjoy this. I know I will. The narcotic in
the lipstick is guaranteed to keep you nice and agreeable for at 
least six hours. Plenty of time to get where we're going."

She cupped his chin with one hand and leaned into him. He could 
smell her exotically-perfumed scent and feel the warmth of her breath.

"Pucker up, darling. Night-night time." She brought her
lips to his in a firm and hungry kiss.

Maddeningly, the photo-booth's female voice chirped,
"Smile," and the flash went off again.

After lingering a while, she drew back and regarded him 
happily. "Oh, my. Another Kodak moment. Feeling sleeeeepy,
lover?"

Robert glared at the woman. His face felt flush, partly from 
helpless anger and partly from the realization that his pants were 
now uncomfortably tight in the crotch.

The woman arched an eyebrow. "No..? Hmmm." She regarded
the lipstick. "Well, sometimes these older batches need a bit of 
assistance."

She leaned into him again and kissed him deeply—her tongue
probing his mouth. Her hand slid down…over his
stomach…snaking between his shirt buttons and under his belt. He 
could feel her smile through the kiss, as her fingers caressed the 
trail of soft hair that led to his cock…then inched down to
stroke his hotly throbbing member. She drew back slowly after a bit 
and looked at him inquiringly—awicked smile playing upon her lips.

"What about now, hmmm?" she murmured huskily. "Feel a
yawn coming on?"

Robert merely averted his eyes, that she might not see the lust she 
was coaxing to the surface.

She inspected the tube and laughed lightly. "Why, this isn't
my knockout lipstick at all. It's just some regular old Revlon. 
Now, how did that happen?"

Robert ground his teeth. She was toying with him—her practiced 
fingers driving him crazy in the process.

The woman tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Oh, dear, what does
that leave us with? It's getting to be way past your bedtime
now."

Through the earpiece, he could hear his men becoming anxious. Nobody 
had sighted the woman. If only they would come looking for him.

"Well," the woman sighed. "If this is going to take me a
moment to decide, I'd best make sure you don't get any ideas
about overpowering little old me. After all, what chance would a 
girl stand against a handsome brute like you, hmmm?"

"What did you have in mind?" Robert growled.

The woman merely smiled, reached into her inside jacket pocket and 
withdrew a pair of handcuffs. "Hands behind your back,
darling."

He cursed silently. This was going to make things more difficult 
while he bided for time for his men to come looking. Best to humor 
her, though. Play along. He placed his hands behind his back.

"Good boy," she cooed. She slid off of his lap to sit beside
him on the small bench. "Now, if you'll just lean forward so
I can try these lovely bracelets on you."

He bent forward a bit. He felt her fingertips upon the back of his 
head, pressing him downward.

"All the way, love…thaaaat's right," she said.

He sat in this undignified position—his hands behind him, his
nose almost pressed against the coin box of the booth—and waited
for the woman to secure him. After a moment or so, he heard a
sound…rather like a switch being flipped. He was about to
inquire…

It was the automated voice of the booth once again. This time, 
however, it insisted, "Sleep." At the same time, a puff of
pink gas hissed out of the coin return slot directly in front of him, 
engulfing his face. He gasped, surprised, and breathed in the candy-
sweet gas. His head immediately began to swim. He looked up at his 
companion and saw that she was now wearing a small, clear air mask 
over her mouth and nose. He could see her smiling.

"Sorry, lover," she chuckled. "But I'm a compulsive
dirty trick player."

Robert started to say something, but the booth again urged,
"Sleep", and another puff of the sleeping gas hissed into his
face. He felt consciousness slipping away.

The woman smiled and stroked his hair. "I'd listen to her,
if I were you, darling. She's very persistent. Just relax. 
Nice deep breaths and go sleepybye for me."

His eyelids felt impossibly heavy, and the world was sliding in and 
out of focus. He moaned and tried to sit up, but to no avail.

"Oh, by the way..," the woman said. He looked up at her,
barely awake now. She held up the pistol and pulled the trigger. A 
small flag popped out of the barrel and unfurled, reading,
"BANG!".

She smiled wickedly at him. "Dream of me."

A mechanical voice said something in the distance, he smelled 
something terribly sweet, then….darkness.

END