If you asked me where my preference of the company of the undead to the living started, I’d say that it was one night at a club that I used to frequent. Before I died, this place and I had quite the repore. It was a club for the kink lifestyle. A place for those who liked it rough to come and be themselves. I used to come to this place most every week. There were a couple of girls and guys who I would get with. We could sit and talk about whatever was interesting in life for hours. Or we could go into the “play rooms” and have some kinky fun. Either way, it was a fun night.
It had been weeks since I was there. More than a few. I had had one of the girls legit call me and ask if everything was okay. What could I say? How on Earth could I explain what was happening with me? That I was a member of the undead. In fact, I was the greatest of them all now. They wouldn’t believe me. Hell, the days when I look in the mirror, and I see the face behind this mortal facade, I don’t even believe. How can I? Who could possibly see that part of themselves and think that this is who they are? If there are words to explain that, you tell me. Seeing my reflection no longer filled me with a feeling that I am not an especially good-looking man. Now it was sheer horror, because I didn’t see a man’s face. I saw the skull that was my real face now.
One night, I had one of the girls hit me up repeatedly, asking me to go to the club. I wanted to find a way to not go. Hell, I could have just said nothing. But just because I’m a monster doesn’t mean I have to be a dick. So, with all the apprehension I had, I got something presentable on and headed out. I could have just used the robes I have in my natural form to turn into something smoking hot, but why not partake in these mortal clothes while in the mortal shell? Made sense.
The club itself is the most obscure place imaginable. It was somewhere that you would never find unless you were looking for it. Only those who knew about this place knew where to find it. I found out from an acquaintance I used to run with. He was an interesting sort. Told me all about the place. A drive I had made a thousand times. Parked on the street. No charge late at night for street parking. Nice. Approaching the door, my stomach was going in all kinds of knots. Why? What about this was so frightening? Memories of my first time being there. All the awkwardness of being alone in a palace of wonderful sin. The memories were good. Some of the best people you’ll ever meet call this place their own.
At the unassuming door, the bouncer looks up at me. This girl is huge. The most raging bull-dyke you will ever see. That’s not me calling her that, by the way. That was how she was introduced to me by the woman who runs the club. The lady had no problem with that distinction. Her face lit up.
“I’ll be damned! Ain’t seen you in forever!” She walked over and gave me a hug. Like I said, good people here. They are pretty alright, so long as you don’t fuck with them. In a way outside the good one, anyway.
“Yeah, I…uh…had some stuff going on.”
“Well, you better get in there! Angie’s been going stir-crazy. She says that she knows something’s wrong with you. Her little’s scared that you are made at them.”
I nodded. “I know. I’ll have to apologize for that. I’m not mad at them. It’s just, some stuff’s been happening recently, and I have kinda been wrapped up in my own shit.”
The bouncer gave me a look. “You aren’t selling drugs or anything, are you?”
A snort. “No, nothing like that. It’s just some personal stuff. You know how it goes.”
“Yeah, I do. Anyway, head on inside.” She held open the door. Time to face the music.
The first thing about this place is the rank odor. It’s a wonderful mix of BO, incense, cheap dive, and sex. You get used to it, after a while. The weird thing is how clean they keep this place. It’s part of the rules. If you don’t clean up after yourself, you get kicked out. Clean and simple, right? Well, kinky and simple. The black curtains up everywhere, protecting prying eyes from all the debauchery. The first room is just a place for you to meet-and-greet. There is a larger social area downstairs, which is connected to the rooms where people can go and fuck. The big draw behind the largest curtain was the “main dungeon.” This was where the big spectacle was. You could watch Doms playing with their subs. All kinds of games happened here. All kinds of people. You’d be amazed. I’ve watched some of the most unassuming people become totally different in these walls. It was a place where the lies we feed the rest of the world could fall away.
Next up was the pulsing music. Why is the assumption that if you are into the kinky lifestyle, you are into heavy metal and sludge-y sex music? It’s odd. I’m all oldies, myself. Wish they would play the Rolling Stones here. I could fuck someone to that. Sorry if that’s too much info. But then, you are reading this, so hey, you get what you’re offered. Still, it is intense. Maybe that’s why the play it. Violent rhythms make you want to explore. They make your blood flow. For a place needing an intense atmosphere, that is something to have.
Since I had been a regular here, they didn’t charge me. They milked the new people for membership fees, but if you were a regular, you got off cheap. It was nice. Immediately, people noticed me. A naval engineer who liked to cross-dress came over and gave me a hug. Nice guy. He was a sub in the worst way, but he was a peach to talk to. Next up was the lady who rang people up. She was topless. Looked fantastic. Had had two kids, and her body was still pretty damn good. A little sag, in places, but whatever. Beauty comes in all shapes and sizes. At least that’s how I see it. Plus, I admit to having something of a fetish for boobs. But only the natural ones. Fake tits are a turn-off.
“Hey you! You’re back!”
I walked over. “Yeah.”
“Where’d you disappear to? Join a cult or something?”
Shrugging. “Just had some shit to deal with. You know?”
“I do. Angie’s downstairs. Her little will be all stoked to see you.”
“I know. Talk to you later.”
Heading downstairs, the acrimonious odor of this place was mixed with that of food. This place is fucking baffling. An establishment where they basically cater to any fetish that isn’t utterly repulsive or completely unsanitary can serve some pretty alright food. Weird. I get down the stairs, having to duck at the bottom. When I turn the corner, I see them there. Angie’s blonde hair is falling down her body. All she’s wearing is a flannel shirt and underwear. Her little is sitting in her lap, resting her head against her mistress’s shoulder. The two look up immediately when I enter into the dim lighting.
Without any prompting, Angie’s little hops up and runs over. The girl wraps her arms around me, like a little kid with her dad. It fits, given the dynamic she has with her mistress. I hug her back.
“Hi,” the girl replies in her mousey way. “Why have you been gone so long? You made mommy worry.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
Walking over, Angie looked down at her little. The girl immediately jumped back, head down. The woman had compete power over the girl. I had to give her that. The age difference had some people confused. A woman just over 30 with a girl who was literally just out of high school. But it is something you don’t understand until you’re there.
“You’re back!” In addition to hugging me, she gave me a soft kiss. God, this girl’s lips. Never have I met a woman who can kiss like this. Not once. My current tastes being where they are, I can’t deny that these lips I have missed. Her little is quite the kisser as well. Something that she’s been learning from her mistress. A better teacher, I cannot imagine. After all, you wanna learn how to kiss from someone who knows what they’re doing, right?
Pulling back, she looks up at me. “Where have you been?”
I don’t meet her eyes. “Some stuff happened, Angie. I’ve had a lot to deal with.” If only I could tell her. She wouldn’t believe. She’d think I was insane. There’s no way I could show her. She’d be horrified. I’m horrified. There were so many mirrors in this place. Was having to avoid my reflection so much.
Speaking without permission, the little had to make a point. “Mommy’s been worried. She thinks that you’re mad at her.”
The girl stopped talking when she got a mean look.
“It’s not you, Angie. I swear, it’s not. Some stuff happened, and I just couldn’t do this for a while.”
Now she was wanting more answers. Her dominate side was coming out. “Like what? What was it? Did you do something wrong? You aren’t dating anyone, so it wasn’t that.” She takes my hand. “What happened?”
How much did I wish that I could tell her the truth? “Look, Angie, I can’t get into that right now. I just don’t have the energy or the willpower. We came here to talk and have some fun. So let’s do that.”
Gotta give one thing for unlife – sex does make things easier. Been finding that out with Karamel for weeks.
“Alright, but I’m not letting this go.” A sly smile. “Maybe I can get an answer out of you when you’re on your back.”
Take it from me, this woman is never on her back. She’s a top, and she damn well knows it. I’ve never complained.
Into one of the play rooms. So much sex smell floating through this place. Won’t deny, it was a touch intoxicating. The Witches Brew is so clean by comparison. Kink can bring out some raunchy shit in people, am I right? Anyway, Angie pushes me on to the bed. I’m looking right into her eyes. The fire and passion. She undoes the buttons on her shirt, letting it fall away. So gorgeous. Toned and firm. A life of working her boy out and making sure that she is in fantastic shape. Her little strips down as well. Her chest is bound with ropes. Girl always loved that.
Angie tells the girl to attend to me while she gets ready. Making out with this girl was always strange. There was still an age difference between us as well. My mid-twenties made being with a girl out of high school an odd affair. But this girl was every bit the fantastic kisser that her mistress is. The intoxication was flowing through me as well. Soon, the girl backs off. Angie’s hand is on her shoulder. The girl quickly gets off the bed, on her knees on the floor. Now I am being attended to by her. The passion ratchets up fast. I can’t keep my hands off her. The heat in here has made her body sweat. I barely notice. Perks of being undead, right? Discomfort from the heat is a living person’s problem. Slick, hot, gorgeous. I can’t stop wanting the closeness she is offering. It feels fantastic.
The passion is going higher and higher. We’re both naked now. I want her. All of her. But then I feel it, The nagging doubt. The strangeness. I look into the eyes of the woman on top of me, and I suddenly can see things. I see the blood vessels running through her body. My vision skills are flashing. No! I force my eyes to see things as a mortal would. Why can’t I make this part of myself go away. I don’t want to be a Reaper right now. But it doesn’t leave. No matter how hard I try, it isn’t going away.
Angie notices my sudden apprehension. “What’s wrong?!” she asks.
“Nothing. Just a little out of practice.” I smile up at her, taking her in my arms. A dominate part of myself is coming up. In fact, I want to take more. I want to prove that I’m not a corpse. Tonight’s the night that I show that she can be topped. With all the power and eagerness, I attack her lips and her body. In one smooth motion, I move to be on top of her. Fire is in the woman’s eyes. This hasn’t happened before, and she likes it. Her little looks up in awe. Invigorated, my eagerness keeps flowing out. We join together, and she is all over the place. Soft moans, escaping as her body tense and she joins the effort. This is such an amazing night.
That’s when it happens. There’s a mirror! It’s to the side of the bed. As I am going at her body, my eyes catch it. Then, I see the truth. I see me as a skeletal monster, on top of this beautiful naked woman. What had I become? What had I done? I should have just let myself die. The Necropolis couldn’t be as painful as this. My skeletal fingers were inside of her. My revulsion at what I saw had stopped me cold.
Looking up with desperation, she grabbed at me. “What?! What’s wrong?!”
I can’t speak. There are no words. All I can do is stare at my reflection and feel so dead inside. Tears start running down my face.
“I’m so sorry, Angie. I gotta go. It’s nothing you did. I just, can’t be here right now.”
Jumping up and grabbing me, the woman held on tight. “No! What the fuck is wrong with you?! What’s going on?! Just tell me! For fuck’s sake, why can’t you talk to me?!”
There was only one way I could put it. “I died, Angie. I died, and now I’m still here. Now, all I can think about is the fact that I was dead. I’m sorry, but I can’t do this. Not now. I swear, I’ll be back. For now, I just gotta get my head on straight.”
Dressing at record speed, I move out as quick as I can. The last thing I saw as I left was Angie’s little coming on to the bed and hugging her mistress, who was crying profusely. What a complete bastard I am. The worst person imaginable. But then, I’m not human anymore. That was another life. One I’ll never get back.
I arrived at The Witches Brew apartments a little over half and hour later. Going inside, I see the Madam look up.
“Ah, welcome back!”
“Is she available?” I ask. She knows who I mean.
“Yes, she is. Head on up.”
It’s almost a mad dash up the stairs. I just need to find this woman who understands. The moment I reach the door and open it, I see her there. In a ruby-red nightie, my undead vision sees her huge fangs, in her natural form. Immediately, I feel at peace.
The vampire looks up at me, with her cryptic expression. “I smell sex on you, Reaper. Where have you been tonight?”
Not saying a word, I walk over to the bed she’s sitting on. I lay down and put my head on her lap. Words don’t come to me. All I do is lay there and cry, with her running her fingers through my hair. I’ve become a monster, in every way that matters. The worst thing is, there’s no way home now.
Until next time, a quote,
“Beyond a certain point, there is no return. This point has to be reached.” -Franz Kafka