Continued from Chapter 10: Master's side of the story.
It's late fall in the Midwest. It's too dark to see, but if I could I'd see that the fields that I drive past have already been harvested. In front of me I can see the bright lights of the city. Just a mile or so until my turnoff. Tonight, despite the various warnings lights, I turn off the self driving feature of my car.
It's an older car that still has the manual driving feature. Most new cars don't even have the feature. Hell. Most people under the age of 25 don't know how to drive them manual anymore.
Call me an old timer, but sometimes it just nice to drive a car, like the good old days. Plus, I'm very sure I don't want where I am going tonight recorded in the GPS.
It's been a couple of hours since I left the doctor's office. Some cancers they still haven't figured out how to cure and I won the genetic lottery on that one. I was in complete shock, it was supposed to be a routine visit. I didn't even feel bad, but there it was right there on the scan.
I'm still trying to figure out how I'm going to tell my kids... They just watched there mother go through the same thing a year ago. She hung on for as long as she could, but it's a terrible disease. At least it will be quick with me, a lot less suffering for me and them to be frank. They will be fine, they have their lives now, but to loose two parents so quickly, will be hard I know.
As I approach the turn off, my eyes are assaulted by the bright lights of the club and I turn into the well lit parking lot. Like me, these kinds of clubs are a dying breed. This is one of the few that still use real girls as the entertainment. So many of the newer clubs use androids now. It's cheaper and less controversial I suppose. But that's not what I am interested in tonight. Tonight I just want to forget about my troubles and blow some money on some pretty ladies.
I exit the car into the well lit parking lot and walk to the door. The bouncer stands at the door and lets me know, $40 to get in. Damn inflation, I think. I nod silently and walk into the vestibule. The lady behind the glass collects my money. Even though the sticker on the window says they check all IDs, she doesn't bother with me.
"Sorry, gramps. No senior citizen discount today. Should've come on Wednesday," she says. I give her a slight smile and a nod and walk into the strip club.
As I step into the dimly lit club, the sounds of upbeat music and muffled chatter envelop me, immediately transporting me to a world where my troubles seem to fade away. The air is thick with the smell of stale beer and cheap perfume. I take a deep breath, feeling the tension in my shoulders begin to ease.
I make my way to the bar, my eyes scanning the room as I take in the layout. A stage is to my left, where a young woman with bright pink hair is dancing to the music, her movements sensual and provocative.
I take a seat on one of the worn, leather stools at the bar. The bartender, a gruff-looking man with a thick beard, looks up from the glass he's polishing and raises an eyebrow. "What can I get you?" he asks, his voice a low rumble. I order a whiskey, and he nods, reaching for a bottle of amber liquid on the top shelf. He pours a generous shot into a glass and slides it down the bar to me, the movement smooth and practiced. I pick up the glass and take a sip, the burn of the whiskey spreading through my chest.
My gaze drifts towards the stage, where the pink-haired dancer is now perched on the edge, her legs stretched out in front of her. She's wearing a pair of black leather boots with silver buckles, and a matching leather corset that cinches at her waist. I watch, mesmerized, as she begins to sway to the music, her hips undulating in a slow, sensual motion.
The bartender polishes another glass, his eyes flicking towards the stage before returning to his work. "New girl," he says, his voice low.
I nod my head, my eyes still fixed on the pink-haired dancer, but my interest waning slightly as I ask the bartender, "Got any older ones working tonight?" The bartender's expression remains neutral, but I catch a hint of a raised eyebrow as he polishes another glass. He sets the glass down and leans in slightly, his voice taking on a conspiratorial tone, "We've got a few veterans working the floor tonight. Let me see who's available." He glances around the room, his eyes scanning the crowd before landing on a figure standing near the edge of the stage. He nods discreetly towards the woman, and I follow his gaze to a stage in the corner of the room, partially hidden by a tattered velvet curtain.
The stage is dimly lit, with a single spotlight casting a warm glow on the dancer. She's a blond-headed woman with a voluptuous figure, her curves spilling out of a sparkling silver bikini. Her large breasts bounce with each movement, drawing my gaze like a magnet. The woman's eyes seem to sparkle with a hint of mischief as she dances to the music, her hips swaying in a slow, sensual motion. Despite the allure of her performance, the stage is surprisingly empty, with no one sitting at the tables surrounding it.
I nod with a thanks, my eyes still fixed on the blond-headed woman as I approach the stage with the dim spotlight. The music seems to grow louder, the beat pulsating through my chest as I take a seat at the stage. The woman's eyes flicker towards me, a hint of a smile playing on her lips as she continues to dance. Her movements are slow and sensual, her hips swaying in a deliberate rhythm that seems to draw me in. I watch, mesmerized, as she spins around the pole, her silver bikini glinting in the spotlight.
Her eyes lock onto mine, and she flashes a warm smile. She's even more stunning up close, with a subtle sheen to her skin that catches the dim light of the stage. Her gaze holds mine for a moment, and I feel a spark of connection, as if she's sizing me up. The music pulses on, and she begins to dance closer to the edge of the stage.
I take a sip of my whiskey, feeling the burn all the way down, as I watch her. She's dancing just for me now, her movements becoming more sensual and provocative with each passing moment. The music reaches a crescendo, and she slowly begins to undo the clasp of her silver bikini top. My heart beats faster in anticipation as she teasingly pulls the straps down her shoulders, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her breasts. The air is electric with tension as she pauses for a moment, her eyes locked on mine, before finally sliding the top down to her waist.
The dim spotlight catches the curves of her breasts, casting a warm glow over her skin. I can't take my eyes off of her, my heart pounding in my chest as she finally gets down on all fours and crawls over to me. I can feel the heat radiating off of her body as she gets closer. She stops just inches away from me, and leans in close.
"Mmm. I like older men," she says, her voice low and sultry. I can feel her breath on my face, and I'm momentarily speechless.
"Oh yeah," I finally blurt out. A sly smile spreads across her face, and she inches closer, her breath dancing across my skin. I can feel the warmth of her body radiating towards me, and my heart skips a beat as she whispers, "Yeah. They have a lot more experience." Her eyes sparkle with mischief.
As she moves, the dim spotlight catches the curves of her body, casting a warm glow over her skin. I watch, transfixed, as she trails a finger along the edge of the stage.
Her hands wrap around mine, her fingers intertwining with my own as she gently pulls them towards her chest. I feel a jolt of electricity as my palms make contact with her skin, the warmth of her body radiating up my arms. She guides my hands to her breasts, her nipples hardening beneath my touch as I cup them gently.
"You can give them a little squeeze. I don't mind," she says. Her voice is barely above a whisper, but the words send a shiver down my spine. I hesitate for a moment, is this really allowed here. I look around to see if anyone is coming over in my direction as my hands are still cupping her breasts. Finally seeing no one around and I give them a gentle squeeze. Her nipples harden further beneath my touch, and she lets out a soft sigh, her eyes fluttering closed. The music pulsates around us, but I'm lost in the sensation of her skin beneath my hands.
I continue to gently squeeze her breasts for a while. But then, her eyes flicker open, and she flashes me a smile before glancing over to the opposite side of the stage. I follow her gaze and notice another man standing there, his eyes fixed intently on her. He's younger than me, with a chiseled jawline and a confident air about him.
She gives me a quick smile, and she begins to crawl over to him, her movements slow and sensual. I feel a pang of disappointment as she releases my hands from her breasts.
As she reaches him, she stands up on her knees and begins to dance, her hips swaying in a sensual motion. The younger man watches her intently, his eyes fixed on her breasts. She dances for him, her movements becoming more and more provocative, until finally, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a handful of cash. He peels off a few bills and hands them to her, and she takes them with a smile, her eyes sparkling with gratitude.
As she takes the money, she leans in close to him, her lips brushing against his ear. He laughs about something, and then gets up and walks away from the stage, his interest is now clearly in a different girl on another stage.
He walks away, the blond-haired dancer's gaze lingers on him for a moment before she turns her attention back to me. A sly smile spreads across her face, and she begins to make her way back over to me, her hips swaying seductively with each step. She reaches the edge of the stage and pauses, her eyes locked on mine as she runs her tongue over her lips.
She takes a deep breath, and then begins to dance, her movements slow and sensual. Her eyes never leave mine as she sways to the music, her body undulating like a wave. I feel a surge of excitement as she dances closer, her breasts swaying inches from my face.
As she reaches the edge of the stage, she leans down and places her hands on the stage, her breasts inches from my face. I can feel the heat radiating off of her body, and I can't help but take a deep breath.
"What happened to your friend?" I ask.
"Just passing through I guess," she replies, her voice husky and confident, as she pushes herself up from the stage, her breasts swaying gently with the movement. She takes a step closer to me, her eyes locked on mine, and I can feel the heat emanating from her body.
She takes another step closer, her eyes sparkling with mischief, and her voice drops to a whisper. "Sorry," she says, her lips curling into a sly smile. "For leaving you." She pauses, her gaze locked on mine, and she turns around showing me her ample backside. She looks over her shoulder. "I'm a bad girl and should be punished for that."
I lean forward and give her a few smacks on her each of her cheeks. She gasps in surprise. Her ass cheeks sting from the smacks, but she doesn't move away from me. Instead, she leans into it.
I take a deep breath and run my fingers over her soft skin again, this time tracing the outline of her pussy lips. She lets out a soft moan, her body trembling slightly. I can feel the heat emanating from her, and I know she wants more. She turns around and says breathlessly, "You're very good at that."
Unfortunately, the music stops and she has to leave the stage. I grab a couple of bills from my wallet and hand them to her. She turns around and gives me a sultry smile before walking off, her hips swaying gently. I watch her go, feeling a mixture of desire and regret.
As she disappears from view, I take a moment to collect myself. My heart is racing, and I can feel the blood rushing to my groin. I down the rest of my drink, trying to calm my nerves.
I glance around the club, taking in the other dancers. They all seem to be working their magic on other men, but none of them hold a candle to the blond-haired dancer.
A short while later, a pretty young waitress in a low-cut top walks over and collects my glass. She flashes me a smile as she takes my empty glass, her breasts swaying gently under her tight top.
"Angela would like to know if you want a private dance," she says, her voice soft and sultry.
I look up at her, my eyes taking in her curves and the way her breasts seem to spill out of her top. I shake my head, trying to recollect my thoughts.
The waitress smiles again, seemingly unfazed by my lack of response. "It's on the house," she says, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Just for you."
"I'm sorry. What?" I ask, just now registering the words of the waitress.
"Angela, the dancer who just danced for you, would like to know if you want a private dance," she says more slowly this time, leaning down slightly to give me a good view of her cleavage.
I hesitate for a moment, taken aback by the proposition. This is not something I expected when I came to the strip club, but then again, it's not like I may have another chance. "Sure," I say, trying to sound casual. "Tell her I'm interested."
The waitress nods and walks away, leaving me to check out her behind. Her outfit really doesn't leave much to the imagination.
A short while later, she comes back. She says, "Come with me."
I follow the waitress through the dimly lit hallways of the strip club, my heart racing with anticipation. We turn a corner, and enter a room. But instead of Angela, there is a buxom redhead all dressed in a leather corset sitting in a chair. Kneeling on her left and right are two young girls who are completely naked. They are identical in every way from their pert little breasts to their fully shaved pelvis. They look up at me with wide eyes, their faces free of makeup and full of innocence. The redhead smirks as she sees me. "Welcome," she purrs.
"Sorry to disappoint you," she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "But Angela had other things to do. It seems you and I should have a little chat."
I swallow hard, feeling my heart race in my chest. I'm not sure what to make of this situation, but I know I'm way out of my depth. "Um. Seriously, I didn't know I wasn't supposed to touch her. She told me it was okay." I stammer, trying to sound as non-threatening as possible.
The redhead laughs, a deep, throaty sound that sends shivers down my spine. "Silly man. The girls can do whatever they want. I don't stop them. It's only a problem when the attention is... unwarranted. That is not why you are here. I have an offer for you."
"I'm not sure I would be interested," I say.
"Are you sure?" she purrs, her fingers tapping on the armrest of her chair. "Wait until you hear my offer, you might think differently."
I take a good look at the girls kneeling by her side. They are obviously identical twins, with porcelain skin and raven-black hair that falls down their backs like waterfalls. Their eyes are an unsettling shade of green, and their gazes make me feel like an insect pinned to a specimen board. The redhead's voice breaks the spell, and I turn my attention back to her.
"So, let's get down to business," she says, her voice husky and confident. "I have a proposition for you. One that I think you'll find... intriguing." She pauses, studying me with intensity.
"But first, let's have some more privacy," she says. She snaps her fingers. The monotonous drumming of the bass from the main part of club suddenly goes silent and the air in the room seems to thicken, becoming heavy and still. I can feel the weight of time itself grinding to a halt, as if the very fabric of time and space has been warped and distorted.
The redhead's hands glide over the one of the twin's hair, her fingers tracing the curve of the girl's skull. The girl doesn't even flinch or react in any way. It's like she is frozen in place.
"That's better," the redhead says. "Now I can slip into something more comfortable," she says with a grin, her voice dripping with seduction. As she stands, her body begins to shift and contort and her skin turns a dull grey. Horns begin the grow out of the top of her head and a tail erupts from her behind. Her eyes glow with an otherworldly energy, and her lips curl up into a wicked smile.
I stand frozen in shock as I stare at the creature that, up until now, I assumed to only be fantasy. The red head had transformed into the very picture of a succubus.
Having completed the transformation, she sits down in the chair and motions for me to sit on the couch opposite. The twins, still kneeling beside her, remain motionless, their eyes in an unblinking stare.
"First and foremost, yes, I am a succubus and no, I'm not going to eat you. So, with that out of the way, let's get down to business, shall we?" she asks.
I swallow hard, trying to find my voice. "What kind of business?"
The succubus's smile falters, and she pouts, her full lips curling downward in a gesture that's almost childlike. "I'm lonely," she says, her voice tinged with a melancholy that's at odds with the sultry atmosphere of the room.
I gesture towards the twins, "It doesn't seem so," I reply.
The succubus's eyes narrow, and she glances at the twins, then back at me. "They are merely puppets," she says. "They do as I command."
The succubus's gaze drifts off, her eyes clouding over as if lost in thought. The air in the room seems to grow heavier, the silence between us thickening like a palpable mist.
"I need an equal," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "Another succubus to share my space with." Her eyes refocus on me. "Someone who can understand me, who can match my power."
"I'm still not sure what that has to do with me. If you haven't noticed, I'm a man," I chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. "I don't really think I fit the bill for being a great succubus."
"Yes. Nobody is perfect," she says. "But technically no, it's not you I'm interested in. It's Angela."
"I want to share my power with her, to make her into something more, something greater. I want her to be my equal, my partner."
The succubus's frown deepens, her lips curling downward in a gesture of disappointment. She takes a step closer to me, her eyes locked on mine with an unnerving intensity. "But I can't," she says. "I lack the ability to create a succubus. Only the male of our kind, an incubus, can make a succubus. It's been that way ever since Lillith. You would have thought they'd have figured out a way by now, equal rights and all... It's tragic." Her voice is laced with a hint of desperation, as if she's grasping at a fleeting opportunity.
"That, my good sir, is where you come in." she says with a grin, her eyes sparkling with a mischievous light. Her gaze is intense, as if she's trying to see right through me, to the very soul of my being. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, my senses on high alert as I try to process what's happening.
"Ah, I see. You want to make me an incubus," I realize, my mind racing to process the implications of her words. "So that I can make her a succubus."
The succubus nods, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "Exactly," she says, her voice dripping with anticipation.
"Why me?" I ask, as I try to process the succubus's words.
The succubus's grin widens, her lips curling upward in a mischievous smile. "You have a certain... energy about you," she says, her voice dripping with seduction. "A spark that can't be taught, only awakened." She takes a step closer to me, her wings fluttering slightly as she moves. "I can see it in your eyes, a fire that burns deep within you. It's a rare gift, and one that I can't pass up. Not only that, you have a thing for Angela, I can tell."
I swallow hard, my heart pounding in my chest as I try to process her words. "And if I refuse?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Nothing. You can go on your way. Enjoy the rest of your life, what little is left of it, that is," she adds. "Oh yes. I know about the disease."
The succubus's words hang in the air like a challenge, her gaze piercing as she awaits my response. I feel a shiver run down my spine as I process the implications of her statement. She knows about the disease, about the cancer that's slowly eating away at my insides. How did she know? I think back to the doctor's office, the sterile smell and the antiseptic tone of the doctor's voice. Did she somehow sense it? Or is this just another part of her supernatural abilities?
I try to speak, but my voice catches in my throat. The succubus's eyes seem to gleam with a knowing light, as if she can see right through me.
"And if I accept, what is in it for me and what's the catch?" I ask.
The succubus's grin falters, and she looks at me with a calculating gaze. "Ah, I see you're a shrewd one," she says, her voice dripping with a hint of admiration. She stands up walks over to me. Her hips swaying seductively as she crosses the room her tail moving in perfect time. She stops short and I'm able to judge just how tall she is. I have to look up just to see her breasts overflowing from the corset.
"Very well, I'll be upfront with you. If you accept, I can offer you a chance at a new life, a chance to be something more than a mere mortal. You'll have power, strength, and vitality beyond your wildest dreams. You'll be able to live a life free from the constraints of your human body, free from the disease that's eating away at you."
She leans in closer, her breath hot against my ear. "But you are right, there's a catch. You'd be signing your soul over to my boss."
"Your boss, as in... Satan. I'd have to sell my soul to the devil?" I ask.
"Correct. But it's not like they tell you, the whole fire and brimstones." She chuckles darkly, her laughter echoing in the small room. "We don't torture souls. We couldn't torture them even if they wanted to. Souls don't have feelings... pity," she adds. "You are merely... collected. That is... only if you fail in your task. Keep doing well and you could be kept on until the end of time."
"Or at least until these silly humans blow themselves up," she grimaces. "Our side keeps trying to prevent that from happening, but it's a full time job."
"Your side is trying to keep us from blowing ourselves up?" I ask shocked. "Aren't you supposed to be the evil ones?"
"That's what the other side would like you to think," she mused. "But that's a topic for another day I think."
The succubus's eyes seem to bore into my very soul, as if she can see the conflict warring within me. The twins remain motionless, their eyes still fixed on me with an unnerving intensity.
"So what do you say?" the succubus asks, her voice low and seductive. "Will you join us, become something more than just a mortal man?"
I hesitate, my mind racing. The succubus's words echo in my mind, promising power and vitality beyond my wildest dreams. But at what cost? My soul, my very essence, would be bound to her master, a being of darkness and shadow. I think of my wife, my children, my life - would I be able to hold onto those things? Or would I be forever lost to the void, a slave to the whims of a being I barely understand?
I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out. The succubus's eyes narrow, her lips curling into a knowing smile. "I see," she purrs, her voice like velvet against my skin. "You're not sure. That's okay."
She steps back, "I'll give you a week to think it over," she says, her voice a low, seductive whisper. "But know this - the offer, and most importantly you, won't last forever."
She snaps her fingers again. Suddenly, I'm back in the strip club sitting at the bar. The same pink-haired dancer from before is on stage. I try to shake off the feeling of being in the room with the succubus, but it lingers, like a bad dream that won't go away.
I glance at my watch. I don't know how it got to be that late, I should probably head home. As I stand up to leave, the bartender nods towards the stage. "She's new," he offers.
"Thanks," I mutter, making my way through the crowd towards the exit.
The drive home is uneventful, and I find myself thinking about the strange encounter I had with the succubus. A part of me is tempted by the offer, but another part knows that it would be a mistake. I pull into my driveway, turn off the car, and walk up the front porch steps. As I reach into my pocket for my keys, I notice there is a business card from the strip club. On the back of it, it just reads, "Ask for M."