Copyright 2008 by Midnight Death Writer
This is my first submission; but not my first story. This is the start of a short series. Part two gets into a more detailed story. This short series may continue if I get enough interest, or I get another good idea for another story.
It is not permissible to reprint this story in part or whole without express written permission.
Constructive criticism will be gratefully considered, crank flamer bitching about things because they dislike the genre, or the plot, pr other unrelated issues with be cheerfully ignored, so don't bother. - Midnight Death Writer
Have you met me?
I'm not like the rest of the human race. I appear to be a woman. I look like a woman, feel like a woman, smell like a woman and taste like a woman. I could breed like a woman if I find the proper Mate. I haven't caught up to him. I've been here through the ages, moving, always moving. Sometimes I'm a priestess, but that hasn't been fashionable for quite a while. My features are mobile, as is my skin color. Like a chameleon, I carefully blend in with the surrounding race.
I loved the Bronze and early Iron Ages; there were lots of jobs to be had as priestess. Many Priestesses were there to mate with all comers. These days, I have to haunt the porn industry to find what I'm looking for in a man more often than not, although I don't restrict myself. I never star in the films, and the few times they attempted to film me, the results terrify the photographers and they destroy the images. It is not often I need to affect their minds to get them to do this. Ordinary cameras fail to capture my image when they are used on me.
Daylight doesn't bother me, and my reflection shows in a mirror. I'm really not a vampire as conventionally imagined, not that blood sucking vampires don't actually exist. The superstitious mind of man is so easily swayed with imaginings, some are true and some are not. I can sleep when I want, and with whom I want, and don't usually stay in one place very often.
How can I move about so easily? I'm not in any identification system. Pictures are not possible, remember? Mind control. I have ID cards, but they always read as I want the person to read them. Identification verification systems are even easier to manipulate than the mind of man is.
I always have cash. When people get paid by me, they never give the right change. I'm always in new clothes, as unless it is done for me at the first class hotels I typically stay at, I never do mundane things like laundry. I get noticed, but I don't stand out in a crowd unless I want to stand out.
Who am I? The last of the Goddesses? Don't kid yourself, We never disappeared, nor did the Gods. We simply lost interest in the petty doings of mankind. A few of us remain on earth. Most have moved on. I'm hunting the right Mate. He's here, I'd know if He left, but He is also a searcher, and in my case, an avoider.
Being ageless is not without its cost. My body doesn't pay the price of aging, other than in the weariness of soul after so many years, where the centuries count like a normal human years. Mankind pays. Mostly men, but the occasional woman also pays my way. Each one I entertain, meaning fuck (What a quaint word to describe the act), gives a little of himself. I look for the largest of men. They have it to spare. What is it? His manhood. Fuck me enough, and they wind up tiny specimens below the belt. A few can't stay away, and become far less than average.
Have you seen the famous statue of David? The model wouldn't stay away from me, and that is why he is portrayed so small. Leonardo also paid a small price for having me, but he was more interested in his art (and the model for David) than me. A very smart man, in more ways than one.