The club was crowded and smoky, with a techno bassline blaring from speakers at decibel levels that would shame a jet. Not my kind of place, but then again, what was my kind of place? Jaded beyond my years, I had seen pretty much all this wretched city had to offer. This smoky club, reeking of Mary Jane, was my last stop in this town. Frankly, I was ready to move on, but I never left anything unsampled if I could help it. Life was short and there was no excuse for missed opportunities.
The place was a Goth hangout. Teenyboppers in ragged black dresses and too much white makeup. Effeminate guys who worked harder on their heroine addict looks than the vainest of super models. Same cheap thrills I saw in most of these places, cutting each other with tiny knives to drink blood. I had graduated from this scene well before most of these kids had discovered what an orgasm was.
I'm only twenty-one, but hanging out around these kids made me feel old. Hell, the place didn't even have a drinks license. I rose and headed towards the door as the music faded and the buzz of fifty conversations became audible in my ringing ears.
"Leaving so soon?" a voice purred in my ear.
I whipped around, expecting to find a kid and give her what for. Instead I found myself frozen, trapped in an invisible grip that was stronger than steel.
She was five four and wore a purple leather dress that was so tight it left virtually nothing to the imagination. Long black hair framed an angular face with black eyes and full pouty lips. Her face was pale and gaunt, but unearthly in its beauty. Blood red lips and inch long blood red nails were the only colour besides black, pale white and deep purple. She had wide hips and heavy breasts, well proportioned but still too much for her slight frame. I tried to speak, but I couldn't. She seemed to know that and flashed a smile that revealed perfect white teeth.
"If you don't like it here, why not come with me? I'm going somewhere with a scene that I promise, you haven't seen before," she purred.
I found myself nodding and dumbly following to her car. The ride was a blur, my eyes were drawn to her tits, and nothing I did allowed me to tear my gaze away from them. They looked so soft and full and I couldn't help but imagine how they would feel. I felt a little electric thrill each time she hit a bump and they bounced and jiggled under the tight purple leather of her strapless dress. No way she was wearing a bra with that kind of movement.
I fought with every ounce of willpower I had to tear my eyes from her, but it was a losing effort. I'm jaded, but I'm not gay or even bi. So my fascination with her bust was as disconcerting to me as my inability to look at anything else. I felt an overwhelming desire to take one of her nipples in my mouth and it was almost physically painful to fight back the urge.
The car stopped in a really rundown area of the old town and my guide got out. I quickly followed her down a stairway to a small landing. I felt like a puppy running to keep up with its mistress and the woman seemed to be paying me no mind at all, as if she knew I would follow.
Two large bouncers stood at the door. They were physically impressive, but what chilled me was their eyes. They were blank; not blank like drugged or even insane, but blank as if looking into the broken windows of an old house. As if there was no mind behind them, only some nebulous controlling power. My guide breezed past them and I followed into the dark, smoky confines of a basement club. They were typical here, in the heart of the old city. Some had probably been around back when Napoleon was at the gates. This one seemed to ooze an aura of ancient decay. My guide wove effortlessly through the crowd and I followed. She stopped and took a seat at a table, which rested at the foot of a small stage.
It was a big table, but all the chairs were taken. I turned to search for an empty seat, but the girl pulled her chair out and patted her lap. Despite my best efforts to resist her invitation, I instantly seated myself in her lap, and her arms slipped around my waist. I felt my breath catch in my throat and blood rush to my centre; a minor contraction of the muscles deep inside told me I was about to cum. My nipples were straining against my bra and my back arched slightly. Somehow I managed to get a hold of myself and no one at the table seemed to notice.
There were ten other couples at the table and let me tell you, they all gave me the creeps. Men in diner jackets that went out of style two hundred years ago and women who wore too much makeup and tittered among themselves. And with each of the scary ones there were people like me. Modern fashion, dazed, almost drugged out looks, but not quite drugged. More like obsessed.
One in particular caught my eye. He was a young guy who sat next to one of the older men. He seemed normal, but his eyes were riveted on the man next to him and his face showed an almost trancelike infatuation. It unnerved me to realize I probably had the same look on my face. What really unnerved me was the way he was dressed. College kid; footballer's jersey, barbed wire tattoo around his bicep. He just didn't look like a queer and I kept wondering if he was fighting the same strange feelings that I was feeling for my guide.
The house lights came down and a single spotlight fell on the stage. A young woman was led out by two robed figures. Her face was blank and she moved with the jerky motions of someone who was heavily drugged. She was tied to the pole in the middle of the stage and the hooded figures withdrew. The girl's face was totally blank, as if she was lost or something. She was young. Maybe in her early twenties, but maybe a little older. It's so hard to tell with pros. I mean, she didn't look like a pro, but I figured anyone doing a stage routine in this place had to be. Unless it was one of those weird clubs where blokes brought their wives to show them off or something.
Conversation in the place dried up and all eyes seemed to be on the stage. I tried to look away, but my guide stroked my cheek and pointed to the stage. I was compelled to watch by that same nameless force that had held my eyes to her tits on the ride over.
I should have been freaking out, but for some reason I was totally calm. The robed figures returned to the stage and stripped the girl's dress off, leaving her back and ass turned to the club. A new figure, big and powerfully built, appeared and the two smaller robed figures departed.
When he took a mean looking cat-o-nine-tails out from under his robes I relaxed a bit. S&M club then. No biggie. I'd seen a hundred of these shows. They didn't do much for me, but some people got off on the fantasy whipping thing. So be it. To me, they always seemed hokey, but you could never really get into someone's head and see the fantasy from the perspective of someone who it was major jerk off material for. Whatever floats your boat. That's always been my motto anyway.
When the robbed figure drew back and hit her with the first stroke, my whole opinion changed. He drew blood. Real blood too. Not the glitzy fake stuff. And as he continued it got worse and worse. The girl never screamed or moaned or anything, she just shivered and shuddered, like the pain was giving her multiple orgasms or something.
I'm jaded, but I can still be shocked and this was doing it. Too heavy for me. I tried to get up, but my guide's hands were still around my waist and for all the good it did trying to rise I might as well have been strapped to the chair. When the robed figure's arm came back the next time, it sent a spatter of blood droplets behind him. I saw one land on the pristine white table cloth and slowly soak in. When I looked up, I wished to a god I didn't believe in I hadn't.
That spatter of blood had wrought an incredible change in the people at the table. Several of them now had red eyes. I don't mean red like bloodshot, I mean glowing red, like animals. Mouths were now massive maws filled with shining fangs, or delicate smiles with just two elongated canine teeth, or...God.
The older gent turned and practically bit the jock's neck in half. Blood geysered up and the guy...I swear the look on his face was pure ecstasy. All around the club arteries were opened and veins ripped. Most of the victims made no sound. Of those who did, some screamed in terror, some in pain, others in ecstasy, but their cries were lost in the howls of bestial pleasure and the insanely loud slurping noises.
Food. We were just food. All of us. Bound in chains tighter than steel and dragged into this pit to serve as dinner for creatures right out of myth. I waited my turn, not scared, not even apprehensive, just calm. I found myself wondering if it would be pleasure or pain my guide would bring me. I had wanted to try it all, but in this last few moments I wondered if I would experience pleasure unendurable as the jock obviously had or agony beyond description as the girl on stage was feeling while thirty people literally ate her alive.
For over an hour I watched bloody horror after bloody horror as the people around me all met grisly demises. My guide moved only once, when a haggard old crone with dripping fangs finished her boy toy and made a move towards me. My guide's delicate hand shot out and sent her flying across the room.
I thought she would come back, but she moved groggily and then fell upon some other victim who was still writhing in her lover's final embrace.
As they ran out of victims, they fell upon each other, the strong overpowering the weak or several weaker ones overwhelming the strong. They showed no more mercy to their own kind than they had to mine and soon the room smelled of blood and death and decay.
My guide rose then, throwing me over her shoulder like a sack of grain and gliding effortlessly through the seething chaos and out the doors. Once back in the car, my eyes were again glued to her breasts and I wanted them. Wanted to taste them as I had never wanted anything before in my life.
She finally stopped the car and got out and I followed. She had driven to the cliffs and below us I could hear the sea crashing. She walked to the edge and I followed. In one motion she grabbed the front of my dress and held me out over the abyss. I could hear the waves crashing on the rocks far below.
