The Nightlife: New York

Page 6

She stepped towards him, recovering the lost distance. She wrapped her hands around his face and purred, “Prolonged bites will bring them fast.” She shook her closed fist in the air as though jacking him off, smirking all the while. “Is too easy.” She winked.
“But you must remember, never feed more than a minute. Absolutely never more than two minutes. They cannot handle excessive feedings. Is very dangerous. You must have care, until you learn control.”
He nodded acceptance, but he didn’t have a clue how he would be able to stop once he started. Her words invoked a wicked hunger. He wanted to snatch up her wrist and sink his teeth in again. He wanted to feed now, not in ten minutes, not for just one minute, and not in the hours they would waste cruising around town. He wanted it right this second! He wanted to drain someone dry of every last drop, and then tear into their flesh and squeeze it for more.
“Come, I will show you everything step by step. Watch, listen, and learn, oui?” She smiled, disarming his apprehensions and making it very difficult to think of anything beyond her angelic face just inches from his, holding his head in her hands.
As the idea sunk in that they were actually planning to go out on the town to feed, Aaron suddenly remembered his job at Bemichis. “Oh shit, I’ve gotta be at work tonight, I’m late. I’m scheduled to work all week. Bemichi is gonna kill me!” He felt panicky. He couldn’t imagine how to reconcile all she had told him with his former life . He tried to step away from her, to make for the door. She halted him with her hands securely clamped on his head and a command snapped out in his face.
“Stop!”
That’s exactly what he did. Stop. Right there in her hands, frozen solid. Panic struck with an explosion of adrenaline. He wanted to move, to run, to do something other than stand there, but his body wouldn’t obey. She had him seized up dead in his tracks. His eyes could move, swirl around back and forth, side to side, up and down, but his body wouldn’t do a damn thing. It was like being cast in concrete. He simply couldn’t move, but he could talk.
“Please let me go. Please. I promise I won’t do anything if you just let me go.” He was heading over the edge of the abyss, staring into the bottomless well of madness. All reasoning processes washed away in the flush of panic.
“Silence!” she ordered him again, robbing him of the very last aspect of his free will, the power of speech. “You have been unconscious through the change. Is four nights past since the incident with the police. You have been dead to the world all this time.” She gradually released the iron grip of her will over his body. The chains of her constrictive will lifted from all around his body. She let go of his face and took a step back. He knew she waited to see if he would lose it or accept the unpleasant reality of her domination.
He mumbled quietly, “Thank you.”
He feared she might use her force of compulsion again. Life on eggshells. He had a heightened awareness of the slightest nuance of her displeasure that might cause a loss of his freedom of movement.
Watching him warily, she spoke in her weird, enigmatic way, “The world you once knew is no more for you.” It was so true. The freedom he once knew was gone. He had begun to learn there were very finite limits to Michelle’s patience. He took in the lesson and nodded his head silently.
Michelle put her arm through his and walked him to the door of the bedroom, keeping him close at hand. He stood there gawking as she pulled off her nightie and slipped into a dress right in front of him. She didn’t need to command him to stay, or stop or whatever. She held his attention solidly with her perfectly sculpted body.
Heedless of her nudity, she gave him another tidbit of advice. “Don’t concern yourself with anything else. Focus on the task at hand. Focus on what I say.” He nodded like an idiot, barely hearing her words while she squirmed her picture perfect body into designer clothing worth more than his entire wardrobe.
Michelle had changed into a shiny silver, sleeveless dress, the loose fabric bunched at her hips, continuing a few more inches down as a skin-tight skirt barely covering the bottom curve of her ass. Braless, her nipples perked up, clearly visible through the almost sheer material. The effect was stunning. He would gladly do anything she asked.
In the elevator, her arm entwined around his, Michelle gave him that same sly smile, silently hinting at pleasures yet to come. Despite all the negative associations she represented in his life, he buzzed with anticipation and arousal.
As they left the apartment building, he noted the 90’s décor, upscale for its time, now outdated. She had some money, but not too much. Definitely not Park Avenue. Despite the need for upgrades, her place was a huge step up from the telephone booth apartment he shared with Kyle. Much roomier and higher class than anything he could afford. He guessed Michelle’s one bedroom suite cost her over two thousand a month.
In the taxi––making their way out into the New York nightlife––he spoke in hushed tones. “Michelle, I don’t want to hurt people. Will they die from the feeding? Is it violent? Painful? What if I can’t stop? What if I kill someone––by accident?” She cupped his face in her hands giving him a radiant smile. He completely forgot about all his myriad concerns. Her powerful physical presence, so close and intimate, wiped his mind of all else.
“That is so sweet. Tu es très mignon. Cute. Listen, and do not worry. I am not a murderer. We drink only a small sip. Un apéritif, oui? Is like shots of whiskey. Is not necessary to hurt anyone. Actually, they will enjoy this very much. You will see. I promise. D’accord?”
He nodded and breathed a sigh of relief, his tensions flowing out through her magical fingertips.
* * * *
CHAPTER 5
They stood outside a seedy strip club, the likes of which hadn’t appeared in the A-lists for decades. As the taxi left, Aaron’s anxiety returned. The neon sign out front snapped and crackled electric sex into the darkness of the surrounding night with a flashing declaration, “Girls, Girls, Girls.” Felt like walking onto the film set of a bad 80’s rock music video.
His low opinion of the place dropped several more notches upon entering. The smoky interior was covered in dark red upholstery and carpet, and populated with shifty-looking men stealing furtive glances in their direction. The kind of place you never wanted anyone you knew to catch you coming from or going to. He sensed relief from those who looked in his direction when they didn’t recognize him. He sympathized with them. He felt the very same relief for not having recognized anyone.
There were several scantily-clad girls slinking around eyeing him and Michelle for prospective targets. The rest of the girls were sitting with men in various states of undress. The girl dancing on the raised platform in the center of the room undulated with the pole sliding up and down between her thighs in an imitation of sex. Her generous, naked breasts jiggled and bounced with each shift of direction.
Aaron was gradually buried in the crush of psychic waves of thoughts crashing over him from those in the room. The most prominent emotions were lust, desire, longing, and from the girls a lot of indifference and greed. A moan of confusion escaped his lips. Michelle gripped his arm tightly, maintaining a hold on him both physically and psychically. He felt the chains of her compulsive will power tightening around him.
She hissed in his ear, “Block it out!” With her compulsive prompt, a neat little bubble of silence slammed in place, effectively cutting off the bombardment of psychic noise. He realized she had forced him to cease scanning the surrounding people. He could have done it without her help. All he need do was quit reaching out. His own curiosity had triggered the barrage.
Once his internal storm quieted he noticed Michelle whispering to the doorman, who turned and led them to an alcove with several curtained areas. As they stood waiting, the doorman brought over a golden-skinned athletic girl. She had short, butch cut bleach-blond hair and wore only dental-floss thong bikini. Her booby tassels barely covering the tips of her nipples left nothing to the imagination. They followed her into one of the curtained booths and she closed the drapes behind them. Aaron reached out tentatively to the Butch’s mind, trying to maintain a grip on his senses, trying to focus on her alone. It worked for the most part. He could hear her thoughts and the man in a nearby booth, but he wasn’t swamped out by everyone in the building.
With his scanning somewhat under control, he delved straight into Butch’s mind, rummaging around. She only had eyes for Michelle. Aaron might as well have been a shadow on the wall as far as Butch was concerned. She had a serious itch to get intimate with Michelle. She wasn’t one of those bisexual girls who played with women at parties or stole kisses from their girlfriends. Butch was a full-on lesbian. She only stripped for men the money. She had no attraction for men at all. It was relatively easy for Butch to tactfully avoid men’s advances, pushing their hands away––occasionally swatting them away. The whole transaction was strictly business.
Butch finally turned her fake, I-think-you’re-so-sexy smile towards him, but her thoughts centered on Michelle.
“Are you looking for a two on one?” Butch asked with a raised eyebrow. She hoped not. She wanted Michelle all to herself. It was a rare treat when a woman as beautiful as Michelle visited a dive like this.
Michelle reassured her, “Non, just me.” Butch smiled genuinely as she moved towards Michelle. She planned to have some real fun on this one, maybe even break the cardinal rule, no sex.
The girls sat down together on the semicircular seating. Butch locked eyes with Michelle, never looking away. She began to dance for her, moving to the rhythm of the music that pervaded the entire club. Within a moment she had climbed up onto Michelle’s lap, swaying and grinding her hips, her legs spread-eagle. She stroked her fingertips over Michelle’s nipples, smiling as they perked and hardened with her touch––it was okay to touch them, but they can’t touch back. He sat down on the seat a couple feet away from the show, his eyes glued to the girls. This was definitely the most erotic thing he’d ever witnessed. He was already rock hard in his pants, and the action hadn’t begun yet.