by S. C. Lewis
I watched, the cool air of the office turning the hair of her skin upward, a chill ran up her slender arms, causing a ripple upon her sweet, tender flesh. It hardened her nipples beneath the thin, shapely dress she wore.
I’d gifted her a few lovely garments pleasing to my eyes, red being my most favorite color. Thin fabric, short and revealing. She wore them for me. She wouldn’t deny that she loved them. Not to me.
Now, I thought of those moment as childish behavior. Is this what I did when I sought her attention? But when I began, I couldn’t stop.
I could sit there, staring over at her, staring at her loveliness for hours, watching the hair on her arms rise, and deny herself she was uncomfortable.
The slit of her dress was slightly shorter. I fell into the routine and rhythm of observation. Her tits were nearly falling from within the open slit of the fabric, pouring like silk from the slender neck. Silky, milky, smooth and tender, well-rounded boobs.
My lap ached to have her on it, bent before me as I had many others do to satisfy my desires in the past. The body positioned forward, the backside facing me, my hands pushing back the fabric of the silk dress exposing the tender flesh of ass, my pants unzipped, my dick hard.
I licked my lips, pushing back my hair, grabbing at my pecker beneath the fabric. It was hard, just the idea, just the very thought, was making my dick push through the cloth of my pants.
I had women. Many pleased me, willingly on their ankles, lifting their miniskirts to tease and entertain me, but this was different.
I’d straddle them, punished them, pushed them upon my desk, my cock squeezed into their wet pussy. I gasped at the idea, it drove me mad and made me come repeatedly. Why did I always do this to myself? Their screams made me quiver; she would make me quiver far more, I had no doubt.
I curved a lip, adjusting my prick in my pants. I looked up, there was music in the distance. I hadn’t realized what time it was. The weekend had officially begun, and I hadn’t even recognized it. I rose and walked over to the window of my office, glancing down into the open dance floor. The dome was filled with people this evening, just like every other weekend. Nice-looking women, nice-looking men, none of which were truly worthy of me, none at all.
I was due for some companionship, I yearned for it, it called like a wicked banshee, my groin ached for pleasure and desire. On a prior night, I could have a group of ladies escort me into a motel and help me forget the one I deeply desired, but tonight, for some reason, I could not get her out of my head. She wasn’t who she thought she was, what they thought she was. If she could only see that, discover what was right in front of her. What I had already realized myself. We were living a lie, and the truth was far simpler.
Now, no other woman would do. None of them could capture the divine essence, the supreme wonder of the being who she was in both life and death.
I dropped in my chair grabbing a hold of myself and thought of taking the frustration out, but one could not pleasure himself and be satisfied so easily. It wasn’t enough; I wanted her. I needed the real pleasure of her firm body on my groin. I needed to satisfy the quench I could not silence. I dropped my face upon the desk, the desire was there. If I went to her and told her the truth of who we were, would she believe me?
Ramiel had denied I said a word. He had often said: She must discover the truth herself. She must awaken. Rattle the gates and you will have chaos. You can lose her. I slammed my fist upon the desk. It made no sense to hold back. I ached for desire, I longed for her embrace. If only she could see the truth. I wasn’t who she— she was not—
That’s all those little innocent eyes kept telling me, round like buttons popping as I unzipped my trousers longing to touch myself to silence the pain.
The observation realm, deepen, the mirror with devilishly patent delight. Oh yes, the looking glass, or what I called The Mirror of Delicate Delights. And rightfully so, a smirk curled my lip.
A look, a glance, to satisfy the curiosity of those wicked desires. The mirror had been secretly installed in the room next door to hers. It was placed in a reflection of accuracy to the dresser in her room, so it was like a window into her bedroom. My chambers were next to their room. I thought of being there now.
I had watched her before disrobing, reaching to touch the sylvan polished surface, so glaringly young and new that it shone, wishing it were her face, wishing it were her body. Only when the warmth of my semen fell over the top of my hand did I realize I had been just standing there the whole time, watching Sophia fucking Nathan.
I shook the thought far from my mind. I hated that man, hated the very sight of him, and the very idea that he was fucking the love of my life. It can’t be. This was a cruel reality, one I could no longer face.
I rose once more, dragged myself to the window again, zipping my trousers as I did. My gaze fell over the nightclub crowd again; I saw Eric and the others by the bar, talking to some spectators. I watched Angelo doing his work and putting on a show like he always did, found the Elders taking pictures with some of the patrons. Perhaps I should start charging patrons for every picture those teeny boppers wanted. Everything and everyone was for sale, and if they were giving things away, I was losing.
I made a mental note of the incident, to discuss it later, I was due to meet with the group of misfits, set some ground rules. I had never officially conducted the meetings, Ramiel and Sophia arranged most things, and though I never attended, I thought I would be present at the next one.
I observed the patrons, witnessed a few getting tossed out for not following the rules. Saw others unable to enter. I witnessed women arguing with the security guy about getting past the ropes that led to my office. A sigh escaped my slim lips, unable to confront anything. And now, as I thought of her, I searched the dance floor for her.
I looked through the crowd of sweaty faces, and found where Eric sat. Eric, who happened to be sitting across the dance floor, facing my office. That gothic freak! Whose face was painted a ghostly white, a freak, a weirdo with false teeth, and long black hair, dressed in dark lace clothing. What was it all for, anyway?
I furrowed a brow, but Eric could not see me. Sophia wasn’t with him, and I was happy of that.
I glanced over at the stage; the band had just ended their third song, I remembered hiring them to play for the weekend. They were a very popular group, not only locally but nearly everywhere. The lead singer’s gothic appearance and music made him the most desirable on the list of those clamoring to get in. So, it wasn’t hard to choose them.
I looked at the center of the crowd, and spotted a face, a figure that stood out. I thought I recognized the individual, but I wasn’t sure. I took a better look; it was hard to see through the maze of people.
I peered closer, and then realized the figure was also staring back at me. Can he see me through the special glass? I wondered. I laughed, feeling foolish.
Of course not!
The individual began to move, walking up to the ropes separating the dance floor from the stairs, and stood perfectly still. I noticed he kept looking up, as though he knew I stood there. The figure was making me uneasy, but I didn’t know why. Nothing made me uneasy. But he was. It was something about the way he was looking at me, like he knew I was up there. But how was it possible, when no one knew about the mirror window but those employed by the Cathedral?
I waited for the security guards to come and move the potential infiltrator away from the ropes, but none did. I swore I would make Ralph fire one or two of them, or worse.
The figure smiled up at me; his pale face was extremely familiar. His eyes were gray, almost white. His long, white hair draped over his handsome visage, and his smile was filled with both malice and a warning. He parted his lips, and from the folds of his mouth, long sharp canines- double ones- hung visible. No one would find him out of the ordinary, though. Of course, he fit right in; he was at the Cathedral De Los Vampiros.
I slowly backed away, and for some reason thoughts of Sophia c
oncerned me. Had this thing read my mind? And how did I know or sense that he had? Was he about to do exactly what I feared of him?
“You stay away from her!” I yelled at the top of my lungs.
The quaint figure laughed as ample clouds of purple mist descended from its body; tentacles, like freakish arms of waste and horror, came out and surrounded him. The figure nimbly and simply leaped up onto the glass and through the window, where I stood.
Glass scattered and shattered everywhere, as the figure’s body came through the window, splitting it into a million fragments.
I awoke, lurching from my bed in the midnight depths of utter darkness, sweat covering my body. Dazed, I looked around and realized I was in my bedroom. It was only a dream? Or was it? I wasn’t sure any longer. The dream was always the same. Confusing; it was getting hard to distinguish any reality at all from the dreams.
It was silent in my room except for the faded music coming from a distance, where the dome sat in the Cathedral. Why had I gone to sleep so early on a Friday night? Then, I remembered Nathan was coming back tonight. Anything to avoid the old man…But then, I remembered the promise I had made to Sophia. A sigh left my open mouth. I fell back upon my bed. As I lay staring at the ceiling, I could not stop thinking of her, or the very image of her. It was like on many other such nights. At least I didn’t have a painful erection over it like before.
I rubbed my tired face with one meaty paw, knowing what was surely to come. Whatever was stalking me, I vowed that it would not overtake me; not tonight.
7
Cathedral de Los Vampiros
An individual must always live in his own world…
The local bars and clubs always seemed to die away if they were anywhere in the vicinity of the Cathedral de Los Vampiros. The Cathedral doors opened at ten on Fridays and Saturdays, and sometimes on special nights around the same time, except for Christmas.
The Cathedral steps descended way, way down before the patrons, as lines of people crowded the gigantic steps below the enormous building, where a long red carpet spread under their feet.
The lights came from behind the hugely looming structure and flashed from all around, making the building creepy and mysterious. A reddish glow lit up the area for several blocks.
Through its windows, the flashing of the lights shone, and with each time the doors were allowed open, hideously loud music poured out from its huge and monstrous chambers, to impress and bewilder those painted white faces outside the tall walls. Above the doors, a long black, red and white sign read: Welcome to the Cathedral de Los Vampiros—Enter if You Dare!
At the entrance, each night stood a man in black, and beside him a huge man wearing a muscle shirt, the label “Security” crossed his chest in red lettering. This man had shaven military-cut blonde hair, and a firm expression upon his broad face.
The other was a sickly, pale gentlemen dressed in black, who wore a top hat, with a cape waving behind him. His hair was long and black. He wore black trousers, a fancy, dark red vest, a white shirt underneath, and white gloves covering his hands in which he held a cane. His eyes were large and dark green, his face altogether bored, though clean with glittering white make-up.
His lips were thin, painted with black lipstick, and over his eyelids was a dark eye shadow that made his image even more ghostly. His nose was somewhat large, and a part of his forehead overlapped his eyes like a frown. He was indeed a good-looking man, if you could see his sort of style as handsome.
An access pass was tied around his neck. Smiling, he revealed his canines to the crowd down below him, which seemed to cheer at him when he did so. He moved his cane over his hat to wave at them, as he stood upon a small platform. The bouncer standing next to him pushed his way to the front, to keep the crowd under control and away from the vampire.
As the pale man pointed the tip of his cane at those in the crowd surrounding him, the bouncers followed this instruction and allowed those he had chosen access into the Cathedral. It seemed no one would pass unless the vampire allowed it, and for now he only chose those most interesting to his gothic mood. Those in sport jackets, fancy dresses, or whatever else which didn’t fit the vampire dress code of the Cathedral were ignored completely. Only a select few of the appropriate type were ever allowed in, a kind of pasty crème-de-lacrème of goths. Occasionally, non-gothic patrons were allowed in, but only a few.
Across the street, a strange mist hovered over the sidewalk, leaking from the sewers beneath and drifting up the alleys, unnoticed. An unseen force materialized, and the shape of man took form from the mist. It drifted up the stairs and vanished through the medieval doors and into the antechamber, passing spectators into the corridors beside the bar, where it disappeared underneath the employee’s only entrance door.
Behind this door, an empty staircase led down into the vaults, where a variety of corridors and an entrance were hidden quite a distance from the party scene. Beyond that entrance, down the corridor were several hidden chambers. A sign above the door read: The Sleeping Quarters of the Dead.
Plastic toy torches with switches lined the way. The corridors were dim, gray-bricked walls with phony cobwebs on the corners. The corridors were wide enough for four people to walk side-by-side, and deep red carpeting lined the floors of the maze of chambers. As the directions split, there were several rooms closely built next to one another, which were decorated with coffin frames. Words in red painted over one door read: Here Lies the Vampire Valentino. There were several such signs, though they all very much read the same, one over each door.
At the end of the corridor there was a four-way cross, and hidden in the darkness with poor lighting, yet another door. The torches in this area were held in vampire skulls, and the doorknockers were vampire skulls with loops through their noses. The other doors were framed with tiny skulls, and on each door hung a clipboard with daily functions, assigned tasks and duties, plus meal schedules, deliveries, and inquiries concerning room service, specialties and daily activities concerning the Cathedral.
There were several other rooms that had been built separate from the rest of the chambers, but in the same location. There was a room with a heated swimming pool. The pool had access to a laundromat, which was located in the back, in a corner that led to yet another door. Another chamber was an entertainment room with a large television system and huge stereo speakers, four pool tables and a music system were inside. In the next corridor, in yet another room, was the cafeteria called Bite, with a long dining table and a number of expensive Victorian chairs. The entire interior had been decorated expensively and splendidly in Victorian Gothic.
The tables were set up with napkins, gothic silverware, and name places with the same names as the ones on the doors. The cafeteria was very large, with a television on the far corner mounted upon the brick wall. Nearby, two doors were placed- one leading outside the café and the other leading into the kitchen. The sound of the music suddenly surfaced again, the shouts of the crowd suffocated the dismal air, and the billowing smoke and the darkness concealed the misty form as it approached the top stairs.
The mist danced up the grand staircase; it crawled past the ropes and the oval-shaped office that laid empty, then into the corridor and up one more flight of steps. There was an eerie presence, a power and energy that announced it to the surrounding air. The walls seemed to bend, and then fall back into place as it passed. It once again took shape, and seemed to flicker in the shadows, remaining faceless. Two gray eyes sparkled within it, glowing from the darkness. The form began to guide down the corridor; any sound made its shape flicker slightly. It stopped at the end of the corridor, facing a closed door, and then it took a swift sniff of the air. A smile flashed in its glowing eyes, it vaporized, and the sparkling mist disappeared with a sucking sound underneath the door.
8
The Visitor
Strength, and strength gives life…
I walked from out of the bathroom of my bedroom, tying a tie around my neck. I s
tepped past the chair and grabbed my black suit coat. Just before I was about to walk out the door, I noticed the mirror window leading into Sophia’s bedroom was open. Had I forgotten to close it? I had always reminded myself never to forget to close and conceal it. For if anyone ever found out its existence, I would have a lot of explaining to do. Not that it mattered to me; I needed a way of dealing with sexual perversion.
I walked back over to it, glancing briefly into the bedroom. Sophia was still lying on her bed, asleep. I had watched her undress and dropped in my own bed alone to satisfy the lust.
She stirred, the nightgown she wore shifted and revealed a portion of her naked breast. The excitement resurfaced through my veins, and I couldn’t move away. Ideas began to stew inside my head. Everyone was downstairs, no one would come for hours. Or perhaps never come at all. I shouldn’t, but there was no reason I could think of not to. What if she refused me? Or if she didn’t believe me? What if she didn’t want it, like I had been hoping she would? What then? I couldn’t stomach the rejection, nor Nathan finding out what I had done, and separating us. No, I wouldn’t let that happen. The possibilities, the insane ideas and my eternally horny dick kept reassuring me. Nobody would hear her scream.
Dropping the suit coat on the chair, I smiled and unfastened the tie. Exiting the room, I walked towards the bedroom, putting a hand on the knob of the door. It wasn’t locked, just as I figured. Sophia never locked the door.
Immediately, I entered, feeling myself hard almost instantly. Her figure lay on the mattress, undisturbed. I walked over to the side of the bed, and glanced down at her. The desire burned in my loins.
I resisted, trying to discourage my longings. This was insane. Walking out of the room, I scolded myself, but her slender form lying flat before me continued to mock me. Her tight, firm breasts poured from out of her gown, her exposed bare legs rang at me like an insistent phone call.
