"Well, if you are really gunna leave, at least let me take you out for one final good-bye," Jeena begged, tears nearly welling up in her eyes. Donella couldn't say no to her long time friend so grudgingly agreed. Donella no longer took pleasure in her everyday life, and decided that she was going to drop out of school and start a new existence. She lost all contact with her family, and her most recent boyfriend had left her because he complained that she was too dull and predictable. She'd show him predictable! She planned on leaving tonight, and taking the first bus east—destination unknown. She had packed or sold all of her belongings, and said one final good-bye to her best friend Jeena. Now, it appeared that she was going to be sucked into a night out, she might as well, after all, it might be the last time they saw each other.
To make it more fun, Jeena decided to take Donella to a club she had never been to, and dress her up exactly the opposite from how she usually dresses. If this was how Jeena wanted to spend their last night together, Donella would do all she could to make her friend happy.
The first thing Jeena did was choose an outfit out of her closet. Donella was horrified at this idea but had to remember that she was at Jeena's whim for the night. Donella stood in front of the mirror clad only in her white cotton panties and her black lace bra, waiting for Jeena to hand her something to wear. Jeena stood inside her closet, waist deep in an array of debris, shoveling out random articles of clothing, in an effort to find the perfect look. A few times, Donella had to jump aside to escape being brained with a shoe or clunky belt buckle. Finally, Jeena emerged with her treasure, a short black leather miniskirt with circular cutouts from the hem to the waist. Jeena sniffed it, and when it passed the smell test of cleanliness, she chucked it at a grimacing Donella. It was a bit of a struggle to get into because it was very tight, and Donella realized that she needed to remove her granny panties to keep them from showing through the cutouts. She didn't like the idea of wearing such a revealing skirt, but she did like the fact that it was short and made her legs look killer and her tummy flatter than it would have appeared otherwise.
Donella barely had time admire the fit of the skirt on her shapely hips and ass, when Jeena flung a semi-clean shirt at her. It smelled like cigarette smoke and had deodorant smears in the pits, but Donella pulled it on anyway. The shirt, if it could be called by such a liberal definition, was completely see-through black fishnet that was cut very low in the front. She stepped back and marveled at how such a flimsy piece of fabric could push her tits up in such a flattering way. Jeena then threw a surprisingly clean pair of fishnet thigh-highs, which nailed Donella in the side of the face, and some leather go-go boots that Donella managed to dodge. Donella slid these on, just in time to have Jeena appear from the ruin that was her closet and drag her into the bathroom.
Then Jeena plopped Donella down on the toilet seat, and rubbed lily-white powder across her angular features. Donella never really wore make-up because she was too lazy usually to put it on and take it off, but Jeena insisted that she submit to this, and would remind her to wash her face when they got home. Then Jeena smeared black greasy eye make-up across her upper lids and the effect it had on her crystal blue eyes was stunning. The shadows from the top of her eyes made them almost look luminescent against the refection in her snowy cheeks. Jeena finished up her pet project by choosing a blood red lipstick to rouge Donella's lips. When Donella stopped and looked at herself in the mirror, she hardly recognized herself. Her long hair was slicked back, and her ghostly pallor complimented both her icy eyes and her auburn hair. Even though she looked totally different, she felt like she was someone different entirely. Perhaps that was a good thing, after all, tonight was the first night of the rest of her life.
They arrived a half an hour before midnight at the club, which was called The Fetish Parasite. It faced Hollywood Boulevard and from the outside looked like a dingy office building. The Walk of Fame was long past its glory days and there were more homeless than movie stars littering the street in front of the club. The only indication that there was a hot spot there was the loud music and the queue. The girls waited in line, talking about past times, and Donella actually felt saddened that this would be the last night she spent with her friend. Jeena was effervescent as always, and babbled on a mile a minute trying to fit years worth of times into the span of minutes.
"I almost forgot to tell you! The first time you go to this club we have a little ritual called a virgin sacrifice!" Donella's eyes opened wide in horror. "Don't worry it's nothing bad, they just have your sponsor bring you on stage and you get down on your knees and take a cherry out of Dominic Kayne's hand--he's the guy who runs the club. The cherry being the symbolic 'losing of the cherry' and then you get the 'mark of Kayne' which is just a mark on your forehead symbolizing you as a virgin. Then you get down off the stage, everyone cheers for you, and men will buy your drinks all night because of the mark. You won't have to spend a cent tonight!"
Donella felt her knees go weak at the thought of being paraded around in front of people, but then she remembered that she would likely never see these people ever again so it really didn't matter if she looked like an idiot for just one night. They flashed their IDs at the bouncer and were whisked into the club immediately. The club consisted of three main rooms with the largest having an ominous stage up front, which Donella looked at in horror. Speakers, standing as tall as the topless girls dancing next to them, flanked the stage and poured out a deafening bass line that made Donella's ribs beat a tattoo inside her skin. There was a constant roar of industrial music laced heavily on top of the bass; everyone had to shout to be heard if they wanted to have a conversation. The air was thick with fog of incense and swirling black lights that made everyone look a little odd. Crowded into booths surrounding the perimeter of the club, couples and sometimes trios of people groped one another in the dim light. At the stoke of midnight the music cut off and the crowd roared, a moment later the lights came up a bit on the stage and a towering figure appeared in front of the cheering crowd.
He seemed to stand almost six and a half feet tall and was thin as a rail. His ribs stood out against his milky white skin and he was naked to the waist, clad only in a pair of skintight leather pants and a dazzling array of tattoos and piercings. He had pitch-black hair that was shaved into a Mohawk and it stood on its end in gigantic foot long spikes.
He grabbed the microphone and shouted into it, "Now it's time to make our sacrifices to our dark god! Everyone who has a virgin, please horde them to the stage so we can take our fill, and you virgins, don't worry, this wont hurt...for long!" That brought up a new roar from the crowd mixed with lecherous laughter. "What the hell did I get myself into?" —Thought Donella.
