The Club Xtc God

The Club

I am a God.

Those words roll through my brain over and over as the elevator descends. I begin to feel the music after the first minute. Then the heat and stink of the place wafts up to me. All musk and rusted metal. Like me. Habit flexing the metal fingers of my right hand, I wipe a palm that can not sweat across my Syntha Leathe* pants. The deep growl of the dance drub begins to make the bones behind my ears hurt. I ignore the pain and pop a tab between my teeth. Liquid, bitter as bile, floods my mouth. Licking an ashtray would taste better, but then... I didn't pop it for the taste.

I am a God.

The doors open into a strobe lit darkness. My face is washed with damp heat and then the full fury of the place slams into me. My nose filters flash shut as they detect toxic levels of stink. I laugh and order them back open. The smell is overwhelming but I revel in it. I will bath in it, carry it out into the world with me when I leave. I will retch when I smell it on my clothes tomorrow, but for now it's a heavenly perfume. If I leave... That thought has come to me more and more of late. Why do I leave when there is everything here I need? Does that chemical filled shanty shack I call a house hold some needed fulfillment my soul requires? Do those modern life orphans I call friends have some hold on me? Do I owe them anything? Do I owe her...

I am a God.

My strut is predatory, as I walk into The Club. That was not its name. If it ever had a name that neon has long since died. Looking up at the ceiling, I feel my mind wanting to scream as it pictures the tens of millions of tons of rock above me. I don't dwell on it. Let it all come down for all I care. The darkness is waiting for us all let this be my tomb. Better than most have these days. The long endless roll towards the last drop. Like a hangman's drum beat, that's what the music of this place reminds me of. Not the sound... it's the anticipation of the coming fall.

I am a God.

The bitter taste turns sweet and I feel the flood of XTC shooting through my nerves. I have all the energy in the world at my finger tips suddenly. Throwing out my arms, I catch up two of the young lovelies and pull them into me. They start to protest then seeing it me snuggle in tighter. I feel their hands beginning to roam over my ass, then across my crotch. Opening my hands palms up I display the glowing green tabs. Like children for candy they grab at my fingers. Laughing at their greed I give them their treats knowing the treats I'm going to get in return.

I am a God.

But looking around I see that I'm walking among some other gods. They look at me with contempt, scorn, pity, envy, lust, I have soon seen all seven of the sins in their faces and more beside. They are not gods... simply mortal creatures of metal and flesh. Like me, but not like me at the same time. I transcend them, the way the flame does the moth. Let them try to reach to my level. Let them even try and I will burn them to ashes. They will burn like the coal fires they say burn eternaly in one of these tunnels. I will watch as their tattered silks and trashy velvets scorch.

I am a God.

One of my lovelies pulls out from under my arm, her face flush with lust. With a nearly sick hunger she drops to her knees before me and claws at my pants. Her nails nearly scratching their way through the Sytha leather* to get at what she now craves. Then the second one is there doing her best to get me out at the same time. I take pity on them and release my cock for them. Their mouths descend on me, one taking me deep the other, whimpering disappointment, goes after my balls with her tongue. Standing there in the middle of The Club I look around at all the faces that watch the girls sucking me. They are bright with envy. Some want to be the girls, some want to be me. Of course they do.

I am a God.

Enjoying the attention and now drifting on the drug I took I stand in the light, a being illuminated but my own power. I own this place. The people taking in the money don't know that, but this place is mine. Every whore, every pimp, every joy-boy and Nightrunner. Every hulking monster of metal and flesh that sits hunched in the dark corners, they are mine as well. I can buy and sell them like children's jacks. I own it all, the music, the people, the funky smell of rusted metal, and burning coal. I own The Club this night and every night.

I am...

"Daniel McWicket? You are under arrest for trafficking in controlled substances!"

Looking around at the circle of bronze badges, I smile as I fell my lust flooding out of me into waiting mouths.

I am a God.

With my cum still wet on their lips my two lovelies snarl deep angry hisses. They launch themselves at the officers, hands extended in claws to tear and rend at their uniform covered flesh. From out of the crowd come a five dozen more just like them, all of them hungry for what I have, all hungry for what I can give. They drag down the forces of the law, pummeling them to the floor. I laugh when I hear mortal screams. Pain filled and lust filled combining into a bitter sweet music of torture. Then I am again surrounded. By a sea of shiny eyes. A lesser man would be unhinged by those eyes and the demands carried within them. But not me.

I am a God

My hands come out of my pockets and I scatter brightly wrapped bits of bliss into the air. They cry out, scrambling to catch them then fighting over the more choice bits. I watch them, these my children of the chemical dream. My children. My worshipers. My slaves. Feeling lips upon me, I looked down to see a young face, bright with blood, looking up at me. Her mouth opens and she sucks me in. Her tongue goes to work getting me hard again, even as other hands begin to touch me. I look around as my worshipers begin to gather. They all simply want to lay a hand to my flesh. To, by that touch, get a small bit of my power and take it into themselves. I don't mind I have plenty because...

I am a GOD!