"You wonderful man, you," said the girl in bed next to him.
Blake opened his eyes, slowly becoming aware of who was talking to him. It was Ginger, a lithe and supple redhead. That meant last night was Tuesday, and so this morning was Wednesday. Tuesday's and Friday's were Ginger's nights. Friday they usually went out, but Tuesday they stayed in.
He stroked her cheek and smiled. He didn't think he was in love with Ginger, but he liked her, and he'd protect her if it was within his power. Not that she needed protecting against anything. It was just a thought that struck him now and then, mostly out of place in twenty-first century America.
"You're smiling," Ginger said.
"I was thinking of what a good life I have."
"Reflecting on the night we had? Or looking forward to Sonia in the night to come?"
"Both?" He saw no reason not to be honest. "And about Chloe, too." The girls might have nights on the calendar, but he lived with Chloe, a beautiful, buxom blonde, and he'd work from Chloe's riverside A-Frame that morning and afternoon, and quite possibly fuck her over the noon hour.
Ginger slipped her fingers underneath the covers and traced a line over his cock. He responded, blood heading south, hardening and thickening him. He glanced at the digital alarm clock across the room. He knew Ginger had to leave for work in ten minutes, which was no doubt why she was already dressed, wearing jeans and a flannel shirt.
He grabbed her wrist. "Don't start what you can't finish."
Ginger laughed. "But someone else can finish. Chloe. Sonia. Or maybe you can pick up a girl from a coffee shop this morning."
Maybe he could. He'd never tried, although he'd had a crush on a barista a year or so ago. Since an Infernal named Asmodeus had given him part of his infernal soul, a certain kind of woman found Blake irresistible. Not every woman, but those who wanted a walk on the wild side, those who craved someone a little bit dangerous. He'd found that those women were not exactly rare. "I've got work to do, too."
"Didn't you tell me that you could do all the work you're expected to do in a full day in the course of a few hours? If I were you, I'd take advantage of that."
He shrugged. He was smarter, or at least more focused, since Asmodeus had shared his soul. His boss's boss, Gerald, never really understood what was reasonable, and often demanded more from his employees than he had any right to expect, and Blake wasn't helping his fellow employees any by setting a standard they couldn't possibly meet. But sometimes, having a completely intellectual, non-erotic distraction was kind of nice. "What do you have planned for the next couple of days?" he asked, getting out of bed and reaching for his clothes. He was aware of Ginger's gaze going to his crotch, eyeing the cock that even semi-hard was bigger than most men's.
"Reading a book tonight. Might straighten a little. Date Thursday with a guy named Ted."
Blake grinned. He didn't feel threatened in the least by her date. Ted, after all, was a mere human. Even as he thought it, he cringed. He liked to think of himself as a human, too, not much changed from what he'd been a few months ago, just stronger, smarter, better built. Okay, a lot had changed. "Enjoy your date," he said.
"And you enjoy Sonia," Ginger said, getting up. "I wish I was as sure I'd enjoy Ted. I think you've spoiled me for ordinary men."
"Then why are you going out with him?" He got his pants on, and was buttoning his shirt.
"Because at some point you're going to get tired of me, and then where will I be?"
"Not happening."
Ginger shrugged.
And so it went. Wednesday, he took Sonia, the curvy Latina, in every hole, giving her plenty to take to confession. Thursday, he fucked Chloe until she passed out on him. Friday, he took Ginger to Vixens, a swinger club in the exurbs, and railed a quartet of women, spacing them out. He tried not to make it too obvious that he needed no recovery time to speak of, because infernals, or demons as most people called them, were in the news these days and he didn't want to be so obviously virile that he gave the game away. Even as it was, he knew a few suspected.
For many of the women at Vixens, the idea that he might be a 'demon' would make him more forbidden and exciting. For others, especially the size queens, he was exciting enough regardless. A few liked the way fucking him made their husbands or boyfriends nervous, shifting the power in the dynamic their way.
Saturday night, however, was something different. A fellow infernal had spotted him one day at Vixens, and through Carter he had gotten in touch with others. With a demon who called himself Bahomet organizing, they had rented an old warehouse in Baltimore and fixed it up.
They called the place Inferno.
#
The line stretched for a block, with women outnumbering men about three to one. There had been no advertising, just a website where you could sign up to become a member for fifty dollars a year, a hundred for a couple. You had to enclose a photograph, and not everyone was accepted, which made the whole thing feel very exclusive. Tonya was glad she and Jack made the cut; at Jack's urging, she'd maximized their chances by sending a very revealing photograph. He hadn't had to twist her arm.
Still, there was a line, with a bouncer at the entrance. A smart-looking, blue-haired woman made her way from the entrance to the end of the line slowly, holding a tablet. She asked to see ID's, and checked them against a list, telling a few people that they had no chance to get in because they weren't members. It didn't thin the line down much.
One couple, not too far in front of Tonya and her husband Jack, held their hands in front of their faces, shielding them from those who had come to gawk. The blue-haired girl checked their IDs. After, she said, loud enough for Tonya to hear, "If you're ashamed of being here, then you don't really belong. Think of what that says to the people you want to be with."
The two slunk off. The blue-haired girl made a note on her tablet. Others, who had been doing the same, dropped their hands, although many still looked about furtively. There wasn't any obvious press presence, but there were people hanging out and watching, and anyone could snap a cell phone picture these days.
"We're not ashamed, are we, Jack?"
Jack shook his head. "A little nervous, maybe?"
"Nervous is fine," said the blue-haired girl, unexpectedly close. "IDs, please?"
They showed them. The girl fixed Jack with a look. "You understand that once inside, you are not to approach any of the women inside, right?"
Jack nodded. "Yes."
"Good. Don't forget. You don't get three strikes, you get one."
"He'll be good, won't you, honey?" Tonya squeezed his arm.
"I get it," Jack said. "They aren't there for me, anyway."
The girl moved on down the line. Ahead, at the front, the line had started to move. They were letting people in.
Tonya looked around. Demons were supposed to be super-buff, even when they looked like humans. There were some good-looking men present, but no one extraordinary. Perhaps they had a separate entrance, or something. She had butterflies. What would happen? How would Jack react, if her desires came true? What would it mean for their marriage? But she'd already told him what she wanted, and if they backed out now, they'd wonder all the same. She squeezed Jack's hand. "You good?"
He squeezed her hand back. "I'm good," he said. "And you are the hottest girl here. They're going to love you."
Tonya glanced down at her cleavage. There was an awful lot of it, and men always stared. She checked her makeup in the vanity mirror she carried in her purse one last time, and it was perfect except for a small bright red smudge at the edge of her lip, which she wiped off carefully. She took a deep breath and moved with the line.
At long last they were in.
The place was dimly lit, and most of the light was red. A dance stage in front, elevated like it would be at a strip club, had bright yellow lights around it, and a rail so no one was likely to fall off. The walls were decorated with pictures of flames, and a few erotic, borderline pornographic framed photos. At each of the many tables, there was a little flame, too, and for a moment Tonya was taken in before she realized it was just little bits of fabric, moving under the influence of a fan and lit by a tiki light, creating the illusion of fire.
The people who had just filed in were looking around, not sure where to go or what to do. The women were mostly dressed like Tonya, in provocative cocktail dresses, although one woman had gone for a schoolgirl look and another was a cheerleader in a skirt that barely covered her ass. The men were dressed to spec, in slacks, button shirts, and ties. Many headed for the bar, where the pretty dark-skinned bartender wore a leather mini and a white T-shirt so tight it might have been painted on. In red letters, it proclaimed "Demons Rule." A table, not far away, seemed to be selling T-shirts like the ones the bartender wore.
People kept entering until there were nearly sixty people there, but there was no sign of any demons. At last, the trickle of people slowed, and stopped. The stage went dark, and with only a little red light Tonya could hardly see.
Then, for a moment, the whole place lit up. For five seconds, it was bright.
The light vanished again, all of it, replaced by pitch darkness. There was a loud metallic sound, as if heavy doors were closing.
Then a spot light showed at the edge of the stage, and the girl with the blue hair stood there.
"I'm Tricia," she said. "And I am sworn to serve our infernal masters."
Tonya put a hand on Jack, trying to make sure not to get separated. The moment of brightness had killed her night vision entirely, and she couldn't see anything but Tricia and the little bit of the stage.
"Some of you are curious, some of you are horny," Tricia said, and giggled. "Out there, in the world, infernals, demons, walk among you as equals, unseen and undetected. But not here. Here we acknowledge their rightful place. They are not here for your amusement, and you have not bought a ticket that makes you entitled to their attention. We are here to provide them a place to let them be their true selves, and hopefully
we can e
ntertain
them."
