Kiss Like a Fist_A Paranormal Harem Pulp Novel

by Jake Richter

  He fell back and before he hit the ground, time stopped for the longest second of his life. In that frozen instant, a mental connection to a far-distant voice sprang into being. A voice he knew well. “Tonight is the night everything will change. A battle has begun, and we will need a new leader. If I could show you the way I would, but another will help you find the treasure. No matter what you encounter along the way, remember what you were taught. ‘When one door closes…’”The voice faded into Alex’s subconscious, and then darkness devoured everything.

  3

  A thumping sound echoed as Alex’s eyes opened and he saw his reflection staring right back at him.

  What the fuck had just happened?

  The voice had faded and along with it, the message. It was like trying to remember the details of a hazy dream. There was nothing tangible left in his conscious.

  The mirrored ceiling reflected Alex’s current position. He was lying by himself on the ground, face up. The color had drained from his cheeks. The pounding continued as he lifted his head off the floor.

  Alex shook the cobwebs out of his head but the thumping sound continued. He realized that it was someone knocking at the door. He got up quickly, slightly embarrassed that he had passed out. Passed out? Yeah, either that or he’d been knocked out. But knocked out by what?

  The scent of warm vanilla was gone, but Alex still felt a presence and the sensation that someone was watching him. He looked at the security cameras. The red light indicated nothing was being recorded and the flat screens were dark, nothing was on.

  Alex wasn’t sure what happened, but he knew something had occurred. He just couldn’t figure out what, so he did the next best thing and simply opened the door. His eyes widened. It was Spence.

  “What do you want?” Alex asked.

  Spence was a bit shocked and off-put for a beat. Then he answered sincerely. “A tall blonde that loves Star Wars and wants me to be her bitch.”

  “Spence, grow up.”

  “Something eating your lunch?”

  “You,” Alex answered, annoyed.

  “You’re really pissed. Like… seriously?”

  Alex pushed past his friend and left Spence without an explanation. Rarely did he get annoyed with Spence, but the whole experience in the VIP lounge left him feeling a bit uneasy. The only thing he knew was that he’d been out for an uknown amount of time and Fincher was probably looking for him…and the keys.

  As Alex headed back to Fincher’s office, he worried that he’d been too abrupt with Spence. But then he remembered that Spence was a bit on the spoiled side, the heir to an immense fortune. He had tons of cash but little responsibility, which was the total opposite of Alex, who’d been on his own since he was seventeen. His parents hadn’t been around much in his life and when they split up when he was a kid, his grandparents took over and raised him as their own. His grandmother was a Midwestern gal and instilled certain values in him, including a hard work ethic, all the while letting him know that anything he wanted, he’d have to earn.

  Unlike his grandmother, Alex’s grandfather was a treasure seeker (and a bit of a dreamer), and Alex had, of late, realized he’d taken after the old man, at least when it came to the dreaming part. Alex dreamed that maybe one day he could understand his purpose and fulfill it. Keep dreaming, Alex thought to himself as he reached Fincher’s door. The answers the biggest mysteries that troubled Alex—his grandfather’s disappearance and his purpose in life—would have to wait for now.

  Alex cracked open the door to Fincher’s office.

  It was the one spot in the entire club that didn’t look first class. Instead, the office looked as if a bomb had gone off.

  Alex saw Fincher, slumped in his ratty leather boss chair. He placed the car keys on Fincher’s desk. A moment passed between the two and Fincher sighed. “What’s your malfunction, Archer?”

  “I’ve just been thinking, that’s all,” Alex said.

  “I hate when you do that,” Fincher replied.

  “Does it get any better than this, sir?”

  “Does what get any better?”

  “What we’re–what I’m doing here?”

  “We serve drinks and play music.”

  “But isn’t there more?” Alex asked.

  Fincher swiveled in his chair, flashing a set of yellow teeth that were in dire need of a good brushing. “Sure there’s more. We’ve got lots of stuff that’s for sale under the table and, wait, are you wearing a wire?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Good, because everything that we sell is completely legal and not against the law at all.”

  “That’s kind of redundant, sir.”

  “What’s redundant?”

  “Completely legal means not against the law.”

  “You’re damn right it does. And let’s keep it that way.”

  Alex shook his head. He didn’t know how to respond to that. Fincher wagged a finger at Alex. “By the way, Brock’s going to be a little late tonight. Something about his parole officer, so I’m gonna need you to watch the door until he gets here.”

  “But, the bar? We’re going to be slammed.”

  “Archer, you’re a bartender. You’re not fucking curing cancer. One of our girls can pour a shot of vodka. Grow a pair.”

  Alex nodded and did a half-bow as he started to scuttle out of Fincher’s office.

  “Hey, kiddo,” Fincher called after him. “Just so you know, only way this could get better,” tapping his forehead, “is if someone came in and put some lead between my eyes. You feel me?”

  “I think so, sir.”

  “Good. Now beat your feet.”

  Alex exited swiftly. Fincher’s words dwindled quickly from his mind, but the words he’d heard in the VIP room pushed forward. They came to him like a questioning whisper. Tonight is the night that everything will change? And what treasure? Am I losing my mind?

  Get it together! Alex took a huge deep breath and went back to what he knew how to do best.

  An hour later, Alex grimaced because this was not what he did best. He fidgeted on the bar stool outside the front door of the club. He’d been checking IDs for about an hour or so, and from the muffled sound inside The Rhea, he was missing some great action. But that’s when he noticed Brock, a muscle-bound donkey with a shaved head and jailhouse tats, making his way up the street.

  Brock was about a foot taller than Alex, and his attitude was shitty, but that was pretty much the exact job description for a bouncer. Brock grunted hello. Alex hopped off the bar stool and was about to head inside when Brock grabbed his arm.

  “Fincher said the tip jar’s been light lately.”

  “Are you suggesting I’m stealing tips?” Alex asked.

  “Nah. You need balls for that, and you’re two or three short.”

  Alex sighed.

  “Why don’t you check out Lil Red’s ID. I’m gonna go make you a drink, all right? Maybe she’ll see somethin’ in you that the world’s missed.”

  Alex watched Brock turn to a sweet-looking lady dressed as the fairy tale character. Brock smiled, and Alex had to admit to himself, her costume fit perfectly. He gave Brock a thumbs up and slipped inside. Alex was ready to make his way to the bar when he was jolted by the familiar, warm scent of vanilla. He turned and briefly saw another woman. Her back was turned to Alex so she couldn’t see him and Alex couldn’t see much of her, but what he did see, he liked.

  The mysterious lady wore a midnight blue Lycra tube top with matching short-shorts and thigh-high basketball socks, complete with “Come Fuck Me” pumps. For a second, she didn’t look real. Then some patrons crossed in front of Alex’s view. When they moved out of the way, the lady was gone.

  Alex blinked as if waking from a daydream and gathered himself. Can this night get any stranger? Alex turned his attention to the bar and made his way through the first level of the club. It was a pantheon of partying and sex, thronged with people dancing and swaying, a kaleidoscope of the young, the lean, the bar
ely clothed.

  Alex made it up to the second floor and took over from one of the girls behind the bar. As he gathered a few empties off the long bar, Alex soaked in the view. The party seemed like a living, breathing thing. A beating heart with a pulse and soul. Blacklight illuminated every level of the club including the bar area and the wide dance floor.

  When Alex wasn’t serving up amazing concoctions, he would glimpse the sexy ladies with their cherry red-painted nails fingering their ripped fishnets. The atmosphere was primed for sexual tension and release. Primal and forbidden forces seemed to prowl through the frenzied crowd. Occasionally, there would be a pause in the music, and then everything would come crashing down again, an explosive beat the partiers were hypnotically grooving to.

  Thankfully, during breaks, Alex had a chance to scope out the action. Mayhem with Masks might have been mostly a work event for Alex, but it was also a night where anything could happen. With all the fine ladies in the house, Alex wanted to check it all out and be checked out.

  After twenty minutes, Alex migrated back downstairs. The wall of sound from the speakers vibrated with electronica and trance tunes, but the real show involved the ladies and gents getting down on a dance floor that was illuminated by a thousand tiny LED lights. Bodies flickered in the half-light as men and women dressed in garish costumes gyrated wildly. Angels and devils, temptresses and ghouls, arch villains and scantily-clad superheroes twerked with buxom beauties in exotic catsuits. The partiers purred and growled at each other with exaggerated provocative and playful gestures and poses. And the very best part?

  Alex was right in the thick of it!

  Caught up on the dance floor, Alex was sandwiched between two vixens dressed as nurses. One was in an all-white cotton uniform, the other a black dominatrix leather uniform. The naughty nurses were grinding against him as the dance floor thrummed. They were using him as a human stripper pole, moving their arms and legs around his muscular body, taking turns as they teased out long wet kisses and showered him with passionate attention.

  Alex reciprocated but didn’t cross the line. He moved against their tight warm frames, whispering against their necks and teasing their earlobes with soft kisses. A third lady, wearing a sexy physician’s outfit, pushed both nurses away and playfully examined Alex with a stethoscope that she hovered over his crotch. The nurses moved back in and soon all four of them were swaying to the beat as Alex surreptitiously ran his hands along their thighs, up their backs, and around to caress the underside of their breasts. The women giggled and laughed and exchanged kisses, practically worshipping Alex. He fucking loved it.

  He lifted the physician’s head to his and leaned in, pressing his lips to hers and tasting cinnamon and honey. He was so lost in the moment he barely registered the fingers unbuttoning his shirt. When his shirt fell to the floor, however, and the nurses’ hands were rubbing his back, moving around to his waistline and teasing him playfully, he was plenty aware. A finger dipped in, causing a chill up his spine, and he quickly glanced around to ensure Fincher wasn’t nearby. The blinding lights and frenetic pace of the dance floor didn’t lend themselves to anyone important observing. For the next few minutes, Alex could do whatever he wanted, as the trio of ladies did what they wanted to him.

  He carried the physician out of the throng and leaned her up against the wall in an area of the dance floor that was partially obscured by shadows. The hot doctor’s legs tightened around his waist and he nibbled at her neck, then moved down so he could slip one of her breasts out and trace it with his tongue. He paused there, smiling at the tattoo of a cherry just above her nipple. He licked his way back up to her ear as he slipped his finger between her legs. A long, pleading moan told him he’d found the spot. Then the other two ladies were there again, reaching into his pants and massaging his balls, stroking his cock, making him want to take all three right there.

  One would have to do.

  While they kissed him and continued caressing him, he made sure nobody was watching then hiked up the physician’s skirt and undid his pants. His cock was throbbing, yearning for her, so when he finally plunged into her wet pussy, he spasmed and thought he was going to lose it on the first stroke. The doctor was in, and the temptress dressed as a physician got a special house call as Alex moved with the music, fucking her like the animal within had taken over until she was ready to scream as she held onto him, fingernails sunk into his back. The bliss was a welcome release for Alex as he shuddered against her, feeling her spasm when she came on his second shot. He was spent and, judging by her breathing and the infatuated yet far-off look in her eyes, she was pleased.

  “That was so hot,” one of the other women said, moving her hand along his abs one last time before turning to wander off, the other one following her. The physician lingered, adjusting herself and using part of her outfit to catch the cum. She tossed it into the garbage can on her way to rejoin her friends. They went over to another group of breathtakingly beautiful babes, leaving Alex to zip up quickly, find his shirt and return to the bar.

  He stood there, breathed, and laughed. What a night.

  After getting himself together with a few splashes of water against his face by the wet bar, he was ready to go. He commenced fixing a Bitch in Heat, an herbal cocktail with a mixture of Kräuterlikör, banana liqueur and vanilla-flavored vodka. He poured the concoction into a frosted glass and slid it to a tall vixen in a naughty Santa’s elf suit. She sucked down the Bitch and coaxed Alex to come closer with her finger.

  Alex approached, and she moved her lips right up to his ear so he could hear as she said, “I need your warm, wet tongue inside of me. Pretty please.”

  He winked at the vixen. He wasn’t even sure he could perform again so soon after his last encounter but was damn sure willing to try. Before Alex could close the deal and snag the sexy elf, a babe dressed as Alice in Wonderland grabbed the vixen around her waist and slow-kissed her into a heated blush. The soon-to-be dance floor lovers shimmied with the music as a female dressed as an Indiana Jones-wannabe complete with fedora and bullwhip trailed behind, keeping them in line with a playful smack of her whip on their fat round bottoms.

  Alex cursed under his breath, realizing he’d waited a second too long.

  “Early bird catches the babes!” somebody said.

  Alex caught sight of Spence who was at his devil-may-care best. Spence's idea of a costume was not to wear one, and in this sea of heavy masqueraders, it actually worked. He looked like a slightly rotund Clark Kent making rounds for the Daily Planet except his red tie was wrapped around his head. Alex was eager to set things straight with Spence.

  “Hey, Spence! Dude, sorry about before. I was acting like an ass.”

  Spence nodded. “You sure were, and it was refreshing.”

  Alex smiled. “We cool?”

  “Like Ice Cube on the set of Black Panther 2, brotha from another motha.”

  They bumped fists and Alex called for a shot for his friend. Another bartender poured a finger of Patrón tequila and passed it over the bar to Alex. He offered it to Spence.

  Spence downed it, then howled! “You know, Alex, one day I’m gonna get you good and drunk, my friend.”

  Alex shook his head. “You’ve been sayin’ that for years!”

  “How about stoned?”

  “Right. You know my rule, no—”

  They said it together. “Drink, drugs or smoke. No dope, no smack, no coke.”

  Spence laughed. “BORING!”

  “I know. Not everybody can be you, but I did get knee-deep in cake by the ocean!”

  Spence laughed at the term that meant getting pussy. They yelled at the top of their lungs as the fever pitch of the party moved to a higher threshold of passionate insanity.

  “Cake by the ocean!”

  The nearby crowd howled with them as the Ice Queen and Nala from the Lion King wrapped their arms around Spence and moved him to the dance floor. Alex laughed and yelled to his boy. “Looks like they found their mi
ld-mannered guy!”

  Spence responded. “Hell yeah! And I hope I make them cum like Superman!”

  Alex smiled, happy for his friend, as he went to work serving drinks again.

  Alex’s thoughts of the mysterious woman in the blue Lycra top had faded away. The only scent he smelled was the fragrance of sex. And it was going to stay that way until the very end of the night when dawn was ready to make her debut as the stars faded from view.

  Hours later, Alex stretched and figured it was time to close up shop. He settled the till and finished cleaning up around the bar area. He did a quick circuit check, letting the few remaining partiers do their thing while he checked on any clientele that might still be in the VIP rooms.

  He approached the first VIP room, opened the door and there she was.

  The mysterious lady and the scent of warm vanilla! Alex was so close he could hear her breathe, but what she said next took his breath away:

  “And now is the time for you to die.”

  4

  Time for me to die? Alex stopped dead in his tracks.

  Was she talking to me?

  The strange energy percolated throughout his body, followed by the alluring scent of warm vanilla. Alex was lost in her presence and tingling from the jolts of electricity. Her sensuality wrapped his body in a blanket of instant passion until her smoky voice brought a sudden, curt warning that broke the spell of sexual enchantment.

  She put a finger to her lips. “Don’t say a word.”

  Alex watched her eyes move towards the opposite corner of the large room. “Now is the time for her to die.”

  Alex moved a step closer, super-quiet. “For who to die? And who are you?”

  She whispered back. “I’m an Asphyx, but you can call me Ash. I only appear when people are about to die. I come in the moments before their death. And right now I really need you to stop moving your talking muscles and let the Divine Plan unfold.” Alex nodded. He really didn’t know what to say anyway and didn’t completely understand what she’d just said. He followed Ash’s green eyes to the opposite end of the room.