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Third Place “Supernatural Sex Stories” Competition.

London's Burning

One trip to London brings love, fire, romance and heartbreak.
From inside the pressurised, air-conditioned solitude and comfort of the black cab, my feet alighted at last on the wet street. Damp was something London did well. My bones shivered in their skin to feel the heavy weight of the city's gloom on them once more; it was not a feeling I relished.

I looked up, casting my eyes about the grey and ominous sky with trepidation. There was a large sigh from the depths of my chest and a sag to my shoulders as I stuffed my wrinkled hands into my trouser pockets. The smooth velvet lining provided at least a little comfort to a travel-weary old man.

The roaring taxi, pulling away from the kerb, gave me one good splash of murky water before we parted for good. Such a feeling of melancholy weighed on my shoulders, arching my back. ‘Why not,’ I reasoned. ‘What better welcome to London could I have possibly wished for?’

Huddled up against the cold, the damp, the wind and even my own misfortune, I shuffled down the pavement heading north. I should have known better, if I was honest with myself, but I had hoped that this trip to England would not be quite as miserable as all the others.

I laughed quietly, remembering one previous trip. At least this time I wasn’t about to be tied to a post and burned; I hoped. I laughed that day also, especially when they saw I had returned again.

It wasn’t long before the large, ornate stone building appeared in sight. My heart lifted a little at the prospect of leaving this deplorable weather. I should’ve stopped the cab closer to my destination, I know, but old habits die hard and I have always liked to make the last part of any trip on foot.

I brushed the shoulder of a woman walking the other way. She turned to look at me; her beautiful, wrinkle-free face frowned at the contact as she carried on walking. I felt my body pulled towards her retreating form; I smelled the sweet trail of perfume, cast around her as though an aura.

I laughed. I was in the right place, for sure. I’d know her kind anywhere, I thought to myself with a chuckle. If I were as weak as a human, I’d be chasing her down the street by now. I turned to continue on my way. Perhaps I would introduce myself at a later date and see how powerful she really was.

I had to stop outside the grand stone entranceway to my destination and look around at the depressing climate one last time with these eyes. I couldn’t help the smile that pulled at my unwilling lips, while I assessed the hurried passers-by, the endless drizzle and air of despondency that plagued the atmosphere. I almost expected Mr Hyde to barge gruffly by. The thought gave me a smile, knowing where I was headed. I wondered if Robert Louis Stevenson had ever visited this place.

I straightened my creaking back and gave a resigned sigh before stepping over that daunting threshold. The immediacy with which the wind and weather disappeared behind me, as the door quietly clicked shut, was almost like being reborn. Almost.

Warm air and a pleasant, clean aroma greeted my senses. My feet welcomed the soft, cushioning carpet beneath them as I walked towards the mahogany desk ahead of me. I allowed my sight to flit from wall to wall, admiring the wood-panelled walls, stained dark. High ceilings, decorated with plaster arches, housed old, brass lights which cast a strange hue across the room. I slowed my pace to admire the rich, artistic landscapes which adorned to the walls in their ornate frames.

I was pleased to find the image of European sophistication ruined by the petite Asian girl seated behind the main desk. More accurately, the image was ruined by the Mandarin gown she wore, bright red and flecked with silver decorations; so out of place in such a specially styled foyer. Her figure was lithe and slim, from what I could see, although well defined in the necessary areas. It was a dress style I had always admired; she wore it well.

“Good evening.” I started adjusting my tie before I’d even reached the desk. I wasn’t usually so eager these days, but I always came to life around beautiful women. “I believe I am expected, I have a room booked under the name of Dominik; with a K.” I knew my air and grace well, it was a performance I had perfected over the centuries to steal the hearts of women. A smile pulled at my lips. I was aiming for confident and suave.

Looking up at me for the first time, her eyes cast over my suited figure and flashed up to meet my gaze. Her brown, almond eyes looked deep into mine with a self-assurance I had not expected. They looked almost bored; something I was not used to when people looked at me. At my age, I should’ve been past such petty disappointments. However, the apathy with which this petite girl saw me cut like a knife.

“Yes, we’re expecting you, sir,” she intoned, sounding as bored as she looked. “Your room is waiting for you upstairs. If you’d like to spend some time in the lounge with our other guests, you’re more than welcome to. Otherwise, you may feel free to access your room immediately.”

I was slightly miffed, I admit. I was used to the sight of me giving weak knees to women and men alike, although often for different reasons. I was recorded in history as a lover of women, a heartbreaker and a gentleman. Here, of all places, I expected a little reverence.

However, this diminutive human girl had shrugged me off like a chill in the air. She never looked up again as I made my way around her, towards the grand staircase behind the front desk. My step and heart were heavy as I climbed the stairs.

Stopping at the door, marked with my number, I simply waited, key in hand. I was about to do something I had done hundreds of times before – willingly or not. It should’ve been routine and boring, a chore to be endured, but I wasn’t so sure anymore. I didn’t want to release myself from this life; from this love. I still had so much more to give, if only I could.

My eyes took in the sight of my wrinkled skin, blemished by several liver spots, and the frailness of my body. I sighed, my breath shuddering a little and wheezing with the effort, remembering the Asian girl’s unimpressed gaze.

I held a lot of love within this body; a lot of memories and affections. It had spent years in the arms of a beautiful woman, toured the sights of Europe and brought happiness to the both of us. It was her body, as much as mine. My love was gone and all claim to this body had gone with her.

‘Time to be reborn,’ I determined, throwing open the door and stepping inside.

Bare was not the word to describe my room. I had wondered what to expect, but it made sense when I thought about it. The room was quite literally empty, except for a steel area of floor in the centre of the room and a bright industrial spotlight in the ceiling. I stood looking at it for a few seconds, playing with the cuff of my sleeve.

My resigned attitude had not been lifted any by the lack of amenities, that was for sure. It was basic, but necessary and effective. Sighing for the thousandth time that evening, I stepped onto the steel plate and sat, cross-legged, upon it. I thought for a second about removing my suit, but dismissed the idea. I had never liked it, after all. A new birth; a new life and a new suit. It seemed fitting, if you’ll excuse the pun.

I took one last look at my wrinkled hand, its blotched and creased skin a sign of just how long it had been since I had last burned. A deep breath fell from my lips as I closed my eyes and focused hard on the swell of energy within me. It had been so long since I had last called upon it; I wondered slightly if I would even remember how to do so, or if I’d have to get the cute Asian girl to come and ‘light me up’. My body ached and groaned as it was wracked with an involuntary chuckle.

It was definitely time to leave this body behind.


My eyes opened slowly, blinking at the bright spotlight I had forgotten to turn off, quietly cursing. The voice my lips exuded, lighter and sharper than I had grown accustomed to, confirmed it for me. I was reborn.

There was a distinct grumble to my tone, in keeping with rebirth tradition, as I stretched to relieve the ache of my new form. Part of me always wondered how a new body, born from dust and ash, could be so pained by a few days of sitting upright. It was a question I had never had satisfactorily answered, to my grievance. Few doctors are privy to the workings of a phoenix.

For a few minutes I held my pose, cross-legged on the numbingly cold steel floor while I cast my eyes over the body I had almost forgotten the sight of. It had been such a long time since I was so young. I marvelled at the backs of my hands, now taut and, somehow, tanned attractively.

Looking over my naked body, I re-familiarised myself with it; an odd sensation to most, but one I was familiar with. My scars, regrettably, were removed; my muscles were re-defined, toned, and there was a lightness and agility that I had entirely forgotten. With a single bound, I leapt to my feet, holding a gymnast’s pose. How could I not let the smile that crossed my lips warm my heart, at last?

Twisting and stretching on the spot, I allowed my hands to glide over my youthful skin, revelling in the feel of it. It felt strange, even after so many lives, but intoxicating. There really is no feeling quite like that of a brand new shell.

My mind was filled with an assuredness I suddenly realised I had been missing for a while. Determined to correct this, I walked purposefully, stark naked, towards the hotel room door and cast it wide open. Stepping into the artificial, glared lighting of the hallway, I looked left and right before stomping back in the direction of the foyer. It seemed only minutes since I had come this way. It had been at least a week.

With a total lack of obeisance, I took the steps down into the hall at a trot, two at a time. I was thoroughly enjoying the energy coursing through me, filling me with such reckless abandon and joy. My manhood bounced with each step, slapping against my thigh as I pounded down the stairs. I grinned as I imagined the look of the pretty Asian girl when she saw me again.

Arriving at the front desk, I felt my heart sink to find her missing. In her place sat a rather stunned blonde, her figure fine and slender; beautiful.

She wore her hair to her shoulders, upon which sat a delicate white blouse. My mood immediately recovered. The top buttons were undone, showing off her delicious looking cleavage and the expanse of pale, flawless skin. I swore, internally, that the desk was hiding the rest of her body.

Her shadowed eyes raked over me, settling rather fixedly on my cock as it bounced to a halt from my frantic approach. I placed my hands firmly on the desk, causing her to jump and follow my chest up to look into my eyes at last. The staggered, deferential look in her gaze caused my mood to soar.

I couldn’t resist taking it a little further and, making sure to narrow my eyes, staring confidently and challengingly into hers. They were sky blue and piercing; now wide and dilated at the sight of me. We watched each other for a few seconds until her eyes fell away, embarrassed and submitting.

“H-h-hello, sir, I…” She was apparently unable to fully digest the situation and remain articulate. I decided to lend a hand.

“Hello,” I cut her off slightly, my tone firm and level. “As you can see, I am requiring the attentions of a tailor.”

My mind drifted, considering whether it was the tailor’s attention I needed or the attention of gorgeous, glowing girl in front of me whose eyes couldn’t stop from glancing at my shaft. I reached out and gently took her hand in mine, causing her a slight shock. She settled when she noticed the key to my room had been placed in her hand.

“I will also be requiring a new room.” My lips pulled into a slight smile as she stammered and tried to compose herself. “If you could get a tailor to call around too, I would be very appreciative.” My tone was low and trailed off slightly, emphasising the last few words.

Her eyes flicked to mine and sparkled; my heart raced.

Watching her trembling fingers dial the number of a local tailor was a delicious treat. Her shaking voice and staggered breathing made me want to tease her all the more.

Hanging up the phone a few seconds later, the poor girl took a breath to steady herself before facing me again. I was surprised to see her so overwhelmed by the situation, given the place I was staying. Perhaps she was new, I pondered, as her eyes slowly rounded towards me at cock height. Again she stared for a second before her gaze slid up to mine.

“Your tailor is on the way, sir,” she finally managed to say to me directly. “They will be here within an hour or two.” Her eyes cast down over my body once more, her ruddy cheeks flushing even deeper at the sight of me. “Is there anything we can do for you until then, sir?”

My thoughts immediately flicked elsewhere and I struggled to hide the grin that threatened to consume my features. I could think of plenty of things this beautiful woman could do for me right now. From her longing glances, I figured she would be willing. Determination had returned to me; I was going to use it.

“Well I am in need of a new room.” Settling back, I crossed my arms slightly. “Perhaps you could show me to it now.”

A worried line etched across her face as she gnawed hard on her bottom lip. I recognised the conflict and turmoil burning behind her bright blue eyes.

“I would hate to walk into the wrong room, looking like this,” I gestured to my unclothed body, noting how her eyes followed my movements with glee.

She looked towards the doors and passages, checking we were alone, before she looked me over once more. I loved the way she bit her lip as she watched my length twitch. I saw the moment her mind was made up, clicking into her own determined state with a slight nod of her head. Stretching her legs, she turned towards the bank of keys behind her, standing tall. Finally I had a view of her lower half, clad in a dark thigh-length skirt and black nylons.

My act was halted for a few seconds as I admired the sight and curve of her body, filling her tight clothing so exceptionally well. Tall, firm and beautifully proportioned, she definitely belonged on a catwalk. I shook my head, biting my lip at the thought of the treasure housed beneath such flimsy covers.

She turned and immediately stepped from behind the desk, at pace. Her feet carried her past me as she turned to look into my eyes. My years on this Earth have not left me ignorant enough to not recognise the burning passion that lives behind a woman’s eyes. Her eyes seared into me with that determined arousal I knew so well.

“Come with me.” Her voice was low and firm.

The professionalism had disappeared, the shyness and discomfort also. She was left determined, aroused, confident. Mine. I would make sure of it, I told myself, as I stepped quietly after her, my bare feet padding silently on the carpet.

We climbed the staircase without a single word exchanged between us. Occasionally she would glance behind to be sure I was still following, her eyes always dropping to the sight of my springing, stiffening shaft. I confess that this made me smile. As if I wouldn’t be following her right now.

I caught the scent of her perfume, the vapour trail she left in her wake as she quickly walked down the wide hallway, her hair billowing. She smelled delicious; mixtures of fruit and wild flowers. I licked my new lips slowly as I salivated over the thought of tasting her quivering flesh.

The door appeared ahead of us after a time I couldn’t quantify, I was so lost in the aroma of this beautiful creature. At last my mind cleared as I noticed her stood still in front of the solid wooden door, key in hand. Inches from the lock, she had frozen, as though caught between two minds. With a smile, I crept up behind her and placed my hand over hers.

A shudder slid through her body as she felt my naked form pressed gently against her. With delicate touches, I guided her key into the lock and turned it slowly, to hear the satisfying click. That one sound broke her reverie as she turned towards me. I was sliding past her, my chest brushing hers, into the room as her eyes locked with mine.

Our gazes remained fixed as I stepped backwards into the room, holding her hand until the last second; her fingers slipped from mine as she watched me go. The passion still lingered there, but there was a hesitation to her.

“Are you going to show me around?” I flicked the switch for the lights behind me.

There was a second’s pause before she stepped across the threshold, her hand immediately placed on my chest pushing me in ahead of her. Her other hand snapped the door shut behind us. Gentle, caressing fingers teased my chest, lightly sprinkled with soft hair; a smile was on my lips.

“Do I get a guided tour of the place?” My finger was on her chin to guide her gaze.

“Uhh…” she stumbled, as her eyes repeatedly slipped to my body. She cleared her throat, closing her eyes to focus. “This is the bedroom, sir,” she intoned, refusing to look at me or even towards the bed she pointed to. That did cause my lips to curl, satisfied.

I walked towards the bed as she wandered into the various adjoining rooms, declaring their functions. I marvelled at the size of the ‘room’ for a second as I ran my palms over the silky sheets, tightly made up on the bed. I guess the supernatural demand a better class of accommodation; at least those who can afford it.

Sitting down, I waited patiently on the foot of the bed for her to return. I wondered if she knew who she was working for. I guessed not, from her very innocent and naïve demeanour. There were worse than I in this building.

Her head peered, almost sheepishly, around the nearby doorframe, wearing a frown that just made my heart sing. “You weren’t listening.” Walking into view, she was wearing something nearing a pout. How very adorable and human.

“I assure you I heard every word you said, my dear.” I reclined to rest on my hands on the bed. I looked at her as she shuffled, uncomfortably, by the door to the bathroom. “A very professional tour of my room.” I paused, smiling, as I cast my eyes over the tantalising body she housed in such insubstantial clothing. “I wonder, though…” My tone, light and inviting, trailed off deliberately.

Her eyes flicked up at mine as her toes dug a hole, prettily, in the carpet, looking coy and wringing her hands. “Yes, sir? Anything I can help with?” She was determined to sound professional. The poor dear could not make up her mind, it seemed. I’d do it for her.

“Perhaps you would give me another tour, something rather less professional.” My lips curled, lasciviously, as my tongue slipped over them. “A tour of you and your gorgeous body.”

I do find that I love the slack-jawed look of shock certain women can be coerced into. She gaped at me, shaking her head and stammering her words. She wouldn’t get a chance to speak.

I curled my finger, beckoning her towards me silently, while our eyes connected. She obeyed. Silently, and without protest, she walked towards me, her small heels digging into the carpet with barely audible footsteps; the only sound in the room as we both held our breath. Nervousness showed behind her eyes, but the stare she fixed me with radiated passion.

Only a few feet from me, she halted. Her lip cutely tucked in between her teeth, she watched my palm glide over the stiffening flesh of my cock. The adorable girl stepped closer.

My gentle touch rested on the hem of her blouse, tugging impatiently. I nodded a silent command. I was almost delirious to see her hands obediently reaching for the buttons, unsnapping them one at a time. She was proving to be a lot more fun than I had given her credit for.

Keeping the blouse tight, it opened teasingly with every button to reveal more and more of her smooth, fantastic skin. I simply watched, my hand pawing at myself for her viewing pleasure. The last button fell open, the blouse fell away with a shiver of her shoulders and yet her eyes never left the gentle rubbing of my shaft. My own were fixed on the heaving of her breasts, so firm and tantalising.

“You like to watch me, don’t you my pretty girl?” I could not mask my amusement, wrapping my hand fully around my stiffened length.

Blood red, her face flushed and she wrapped her arms around her chest, nodding tentatively. My fingers reached out, caressing over her tight stomach and hip bones, working my fingers over the backs of her hands.

“I’ll let you watch some more.” I waited for her widening eyes to find mine before continuing, “If you’ll show me the rest of your beautiful body.”

Her poor lip was taking a real gnawing, but her willingness shone through. Dimpled cheeks pulled at her lips to watch me stroking myself, resisting the impulse to reach out for her glorious body. With a confidence I could barely have expected, her hips began to sway.

Step by step, with the constant rhythmic sway of her body, she peeled away her clothes in front of my fresh new eyes; their first girl. She was a good choice. A shiver ran through me as she allowed her skirt to drop, leaving her in just her underwear. A matching set: bra, panties and suspenders in black, with grey trim, adorned her gorgeous body. She still wore the small heels.

My finger teased slowly around the outside of her bra, brushing the delicate skin of her breasts. I ached to taste and feel her body. I found the quivering of her skin exhilarating; there’s nothing like a beautiful woman in passion to set a fire raging inside me.

“This too, my dear.” My finger hooked the strap of her bra. Her soft, submissive eyes stared into mine with a heat to match the burn of her skin. Slowly, with care and a sensuality I craved, she unsnapped the clasp and teased the material away.

Her perfect little nipples were too inviting; too intoxicating. With a ferocity I hadn’t felt in years, I dived forward with a growl on my lips. The warmth and soothing caress of her skin ignited a passion in me. It threatened to consume me as I kissed all over her chest before sinking my teeth into her firm mounds. The squealing yelps she poured forth, along with her hands wrapped tightly in my hair, only spurred me on. She guided my lips and teeth as I devoured her skin, sucking and biting her to the blissful tune of perfect moans.

It took all of my resolve to pull away from her.

“You like to be bitten.” I was not asking, but simply stating. She nodded, chewing at her lip once more. I thought about warning her not to release such information within this particular building. Some of its residents may find it all too encouraging.

The coy, gorgeous expression almost set me off again. I wasn’t going to last long. With a concerted effort, I threw my body back onto one hand as the other took my shaft, firmly. Looking up at her and drinking in her body, my eyes dropped to her tiny black panties. I started to stroke.

“One last thing to remove,” I said slowly, casting my eyes over the reddening flesh of her tits. She was already pawing at them, gently squeezing and twisting her nipples as I spoke.

There was no trace of hesitation when she released her body; the sway returning to her hips as she ran her fingers through the waistband of her pretty panties. Teasing me with them, her red lips curved up as she eased the material slowly down. I stroked, as I watched her, knowing that it was firing her up more and more to watch me pumping my shaft. At last, she turned on the spot and bent at the waist, shocking me as she peeled those tiny panties over the glistening lips she’d been hiding from me, before letting them drop.

Limber beyond my wildest dreams, she bent even further to look back at me through the gap in her thighs. My cock throbbed at the sight of her gorgeous body, clad in suspenders and heels, bent before me. The cheeky smile she wore topped off the deal.

Clenching my jaw and diving forward, my hands seized her firm cheeks with a smack. The shocked shriek of delight that poured from her encouraged and excited me. I was going to take and devour this beautiful girl.

Thrown over the precipice of control, abandoned to the craving and desire therein, my hands gripped her arse tightly. Leaning forward, lips stretched with a sadistic grin, my teeth connecting roughly with her tender flesh. Sinking in with a low groan in my throat caused her whole body to flutter, bringing staccato moans from her trembling lips. Roughly, I peeled apart her cheeks and buried my face between her spread thighs.

The sweet nectar of her gorgeous young sex was intoxicating; better than any vintage, to a fossil such as me. She was sharp and sweet to the taste; my lips smacked to appreciate her flavour. I licked them clean, needing even more of her.

My tongue probed at her succulence, delving deep into her core. Her impatient hips squirmed on my lips when she felt them so lightly brushing her. The temperature of pussy radiated against my face, heating me and my desire. Deeper my tongue pressed into her, collecting the sweetness that flowed like rivers. Her delightful moans were a sweet music to my ears, a chorus of approval to spur on my eager tongue and teasing lips.

Brushing my lips over her labia, I sucked her and pulled tight the skin of her slit. As she quivered, distracted and happy, I allowed my teeth to rake over them, gently nipping at her lips and the insides of her thighs. Her squeals’ intensity redoubled.

How I wished to bite her sweet clit. The rest of my body demanded the warmth of her flesh, however, with a craving built up over many years. I was not one to deny myself.

I settled back, sitting on the edge of the bed as I reached out to grip her hips, spinning her on the spot. She turned to look at me, eyes glazed and dizzy from my oral assault. My fingers idly trailed down the smooth material of her suspenders.

I took just a second to burn the image of her stunning body into my mind forever before I claimed it. Seizing her hips and settling back, I pulled her down towards me. With a plaintive, appreciative gasp and whimper, she settled onto my raging tip without ceremony, sinking deeper onto my length by the second.

My fire was raging and there was no stopping me now. Relentless, merciless and with total abandon, I took her beautiful body for my own. Picking her supple form up in my hands, as though made of paper, I held her up as I raised my hips to fill her repeatedly, using her quivering, limp body for my own pleasure and immense satisfaction.

Casting her down onto her back, my hands seized her smooth, stocking-clad thighs. She was spread wide for me, falling open like an old book eager to be read. A laugh left me from the depths of my chest, deep and rumbling, conveying my pleasure. That laugh left her body quivering beneath me; holding herself open obscenely, her large, pleading eyes stared into mine.

I obliged her. Call me soft, perhaps, for giving in so soon, but I needed to feel the tight, hot wetness of her around me once more. I needed to sheathe my length deep inside and claim her for my own.

That’s exactly what I did.

Placing my hands at her hips, holding her in place, I gave her lips a gentle tease with the tip of my cock. I was too impatient for much more. With little more than a wide grin and my eyes aflame, I speared my length into her waiting cunt. If rebirth felt invigorating, I had to call the feel of her body a close second. Lust possessed me as I pinned her to the crisp, fresh sheets and drove my cock into her with vigour.

Filling the room with her pleasure, unmeasured whines and rasping breaths injected more life into me than anything before. Every inch of my body tingled and smouldered, fired on by our passion. My hands had a life of their own, pawing at her splayed body, mauling her flesh and groping at her tits. My mood was feverish, but my touch was practiced and precise, coaxing every whine and shriek from her I possibly could.

My lips descended to join my fingers; my teeth soon followed. I find it amazing how the delicious taste of a woman’s skin is made so much sweeter by her desperate, vulgar moaning and swearing; the tenderness of her flesh seems so much richer when it’s quivering and slick with sweat. The aroma of her essence was made all the better by the wet sounds it created. She excited my senses, electrifying me more and more.

I had been lost for too long, drifting and aimless, without a thought for what I was missing. Impaling the dazzling blonde to the bed, releasing every ounce of frustration and pent up desire into her, gave me new life. I laughed as our eyes locked, wondering how many more times I could feel reborn in one day.

Our chests pressed together, her nipples grinding against me, while our lips wrestled. Dancing tongues were shared between us, accompanying our moans and simple gasps of pleasure. The rhythm of our gyrating bodies was almost comforting while we basked in our adoration for each other.

The peace was short-lived once our breathing became harsher and deeper. The fervour returned, as did our brutality. Gripping her hips again, after an approving nod, I held myself above her for just a second, pausing to admire the stunning sight. Her eyes closed in anticipation a moment before I resumed the savage, unadulterated fucking.

It wasn’t long before I felt the familiar clenching of her walls around me. My thrusts became more strained and desperate as she tightened. She bucked and writhed beneath me, struggling in my hands while her lungs searched frantically for every breath. Biting into her breast, my teeth raking her nipple, I sent her careering over the edge.

Her hips rose, falling hard as her chest did likewise. Turning rigid and failing to breathe, her tight tunnel at last clamped down on me, firmly demanding my own climax. I succumbed to her as our lips met once more, deep and hard. We swallowed each other’s moans, holding tightly to the other as she received pulse after pulse of me inside her.


With new eyes, I gazed out over the brightly lit streets of London; such a contrast to its unusual gloom. I would like to say that my new eyes gave me a different view of the city and gave me new insight into its wonders. I would like to say that, however, I usually find we don’t always get what we’d like.

The suit I was wearing was the perfect example of this philosophy. Impatiently, I tugged at the sleeve and sighed, wishing it were just an inch or so longer. My brow was wrinkled with irritation. I was being made to settle for a suit too small for me by inches, while the new one was made.

As if it wasn’t bad enough that the tailor had barged in and woke me, he also woke my lover. I had been very disappointed to see her rushing from the room in embarrassment, clutching her clothes to her body.

‘Centuries on this Earth should’ve taught me a great deal of patience,’ I mused, but at that moment I felt very little of it. I could not keep my hands from tugging demandingly at my sleeves, nor could I halt the endless sighs and mutters pouring from my chest.

I was melancholy for the first time in this body. I did not enjoy it.

Distantly, barely audible even on the still night air, I could make out the peal of bell. My mind silently counted the rings, falling back on old habits. My room had at least three clocks, of various descriptions, that I knew of. Somehow, though, even a new body can hark back to ancient traditions.

Eleven o’clock.

Looking up at the moon, full and bright in the sky, I sighed to myself one final time. I remembered staring up at the moon over the streets of a different capital city. I had company that day. The very best of company.

I need a drink,’ I resolved to myself, turning on the spot. Impatiently tutting, I marched out of the suite door, slamming it behind me.

My body took the steps down to the foyer a little heavier than this morning, treading slowly and rhythmically.

Nearing the hotel lounge, my mind wandered. I wondered who to expect inside.. I enjoyed meeting my own kind, every so often, but there was a slight sense of trepidation. ‘There is something horribly unpredictable about the supernatural’, I thought to myself. ‘Especially the undead.

A shiver ran through me at the thought of a few ‘friends’ I may find inside. The low buzz of voices greeted my ears as I approached. It was silly of me, but I paused at the double doors to listen for any voices I may recognise. Certain species can be distinctly loud and recognisable.

A mirror hung next to the wall. A brave choice, I thought, given the nature of the clientele often brought to this hotel. I wondered whose idea it was to hang mirrors in the public quarters of a hotel so very popular with Europe’s vampire population.

My fingers ran through my hair as I examined myself. Fiery red and raised, like plumage, I smiled at the feel of my young hair between my fingers. That was all I needed to turn sharply towards the lounge and push open the doors.

I pushed in, feeling like Clint Eastwood kicking open the doors of a Colorado saloon. There was a strut to my gait when I approached the bar; confident, without being cocky. It was quite an act.

“I’ll take a whisky from you, sir. Single malt Scotch, if you have it. ”

Almost casually, while the bartender reached for a glass, I scanned the room. Posters hung on the walls, surrounding the place, advertising a heavy metal band whose name was entirely unfamiliar. They were playing at midnight.

My mood perked a little and my eyebrows rose. I didn’t know them, but I was quite fond of this new, modern music, and much more. Centuries old I may be, but I did enjoy the raw energy of it all. I did enjoy the audiences filled with women dressed in leather, at best, with a fondness for tattoos and piercings, if you’ll excuse the generalisation.

I continued my sweep of the room, trying to avoid direct eye contact with a few faces I thought familiar. I recognised one or two people in the room.

In the far corner of the room sat a tall woman with jet black hair. Wearing a blood red dress, from which burst ample cleavage, she was thronged by a group of attractive women. Her complexion was fairly tanned, like most of those around her; however she sat far higher and with an air of grace and authority. There was a confidence to her. The other women were a mixed bunch, all beautiful and impeccably dressed.

My eyes caught one follower in particular as she caught mine. She looked at me, as though trying to place me; I looked away after just a second. I knew her instantly, although she would have trouble recognising me. She was the woman I had rubbed shoulders with in the street.

Cassandra, the Alpha in the red dress, was a succubus of infamy I had known for a long time; we were rather amicable, if occasionally prone to bickering. Something I had learned very quickly is not to completely trust any but your own kind. Even then, it’s not exactly assured.

Despite this, Cassandra and I had a long, friendly history. She was ancient, far older than myself or anyone else in the room, I’d wager. I had heard stories of her exploits as far back as Ancient Greece, but then it is rather difficult to prove.

Cassandra’s presence confirmed the nature of the woman from the street as a succubus. At a quick glance, I counted at least a dozen. My cheeks blew out with sympathy for the poor London population who would be falling prey to these women.

Apprehension took a grip of my mood and I felt disconcerted to see the woman lean in to whisper in Cassandra’s ear. Together, they turned to me and Cassandra’s steady eyes locked me in place. I felt I could hardly move, wilting beneath their terrible stare. I was a rabbit in the lamplight.

I was brought back to feel a nudge on my elbow. A small glass of whisky rested close to me, when I turned around. I reached for it immediately and took my first sip, turning to face the bar. The hot, searing liquid slid down my throat with a satisfying sting, curling my lips. I hoped if I didn’t look around, Cassandra would forget me. Yes, we were amiable, but the less I heard from her the better. She didn’t always bring good fortune.

The bartender scurried along the bar away from me. His wide eyes and the smell of fear could mean only one thing. Cassandra was approaching. He knew to keep away from her.

As I sipped on the amber liquid, a leg framed in a red dress slipped around the stool next to me. Swallowing slightly, I turned to my left and looked straight into the eyes of the most dangerous woman in London.

“Hello, Dominik.” She laughed to see my sight drift slightly towards her breasts. Beautifully round, pressed together and barely contained in her dress, the swell of her mounds was almost bursting from the material. A hint of stiffened nipple teased me from beneath her dress. Reluctantly, I dragged my attention back to her eyes.

I hated succubae. I was a phoenix! I was supposedly immune to their power. Cassandra, however, had a far greater pull than the rest of her kind; I could never quite keep my head around her.

“Cassandra.” There was a pause for a second. “I’ve been going by Dom for the past few decades, actually; Dominik was growing rather old.” I took another sip, determined to seem nonchalant.

There was a shrill, high pitched laugh from the depths of her enchanting chest.

“Old, he says. You know nothing of old, my silly, fiery friend.” Cassandra’s finger extended to brush down my neck and back up once more. My skin tingled and I turned rigid on the spot.

“Perhaps not, but I would like to one day.” I shivered once her touch left me, feeling relieved and thankful.

I turned to look into her eyes, finding a smile turning up her cheeks while her tongue slipped softly over her lips. At least she wasn’t glaring at me.

“It has still been too long, my friend. Although I see you’ve had some bodywork done, Dom. How old is this?” To emphasise her words, her fingertip trailed down my neck and shoulders to brush my chest, placing the flat of her palm over my pounding heart. I locked up once more, my breath catching.

“It’s new on today,” I admitted. Cassandra let out a noise almost identical to a purr.

“I do love new skin. It’s so tight and firm.”

Her nails suddenly pressed into me, pinching through my shirt. I could not contain the hiss that slipped through my clenched teeth. Cassandra’s fingers went back to idly teasing over my chest, defining the contours of my pectorals.

“The last I heard, you were strutting through France with a beautiful human girl. The jealousy was rife, I recall.”

My eyes closed; the pain resurfaced as I bit my lip. Turning at last, I could see the trace of worry behind her eyes. That meant a lot, I was irritated to acknowledge.

“I was, for a while. Not anymore.”

“That is a shame. That explains this,” she said, gripping my chest once more.

I nodded.

Cassandra’s head shook with a small smile. “You are a curious creature, Domin… Dom. A new body for every lover, it is a strange way to live. The last one must’ve been quite old before you cast it away.”

There was a silence between us for a minute or so, during which I sipped my depreciating glass of whisky.

“It’s a shame you never let me have a piece of your fresh, new skin, Dominik. I could do wonderful things.” Cassandra’s tone trailed off as her fingers drifted over my chest still. She looked deep into my eyes and I felt that well-known tug at my core before she leaned towards my ear, her scent of blossom wafting over me. “It wouldn’t be the same to just take you.”

We shared a smile and squeezed each other’s hands.

“When did we last see each other? Prague?” I nodded, smiling to remember the fun we had together.

“That was a fun time. Shall we run the same deal?” Cassandra grinned. “Send any particularly fun humans you find to me. Especially girls. I have a few new girls with a hankering for their own kind. Send them to us and…” Cassandra’s tone deliberately slowed and tailed away as she placed a hand on my knee. “If you won’t join us, I’ll at least let you watch.”

Her lashes fluttered prettily and deliberately as she winked. They could've been the gentle beats of a butterfly's wings coming in to land. Her long fingers wrapped around my thigh, squeezing gently as she leaned in towards me. The aroma of her perfume seemed to caress and envelop me as her lips brushed my cheek with a gentle kiss. I shivered, feeling she had kissed my soul, not only my cheek.

Turning on the stool and gliding away, without further word, Cassandra left as silently as she’d arrived. My body slumped with my exhalation, pleased that our meeting had gone rather better than I had expected. ‘Another whisky is definitely earned,’ I thought, as I threw back the dregs of my glass.

My mood gradually settled back to normal over the course of half an hour. I sat quietly at the bar, sipping at my drink and chatting lightly with a few others passing by, or to a few who came over to introduce themselves. I kept the conversation to a minimum, without really intending to, and they quickly left again. My mood was a little unsettled; I needed something to steady me.

Choosing quite the wrong moment, the doors of the bar pushed open and in stepped the Asian girl from the front desk. I couldn’t keep my eyes from sliding over her once again. She now wore an almost electric blue Mandarin gown, again decorated in silver patterns, edged with black. Her jet black hair was long, down past her shoulders, waving with every step she took.

She passed the bar, now fully into view, and I recognised the dragon pattern that snaked down her side, woven into the material. It was undeniably exquisite. The sight of those patterns gave me thoughts of tattoos. A few happy, solitary seconds were spent in the dark recesses of my imagination, wondering the patterns her skin might hold.

My thoughts were interrupted as I realised she was looking in my direction. Maybe she didn’t realise it, but her lips tightened with a smile as she stepped towards me. She sat, straight-backed and confident, on the same stool Cassandra had used.

“Hello, handsome.”

I confess I was a little taken aback. ‘Is this really the same girl who brushed me off, only days ago,’ I wondered. She obviously didn’t recognise me as the old man.

“Hello, my dear. I adore your dress, it’s rather beautiful.”

“Thank you!” Her tone was light, but there was a purpose behind her eyes she couldn’t mask. “I love it too, isn’t it wonderful?”

She turned to me in profile, smiling as she invited me to examine the design in closer detail. Her intentions were a little clearer as I noticed her pushed out breasts, the tightness of the material outlining her, wonderfully. Her back was arched and the form of her body was irrefutably gorgeous. Slowly, one of her fingers traced the shape of the embossed dragon which crept over the swell of her breast.

“What do you think?” A pursing of her lips and a slightly narrowed, sultry look to her eyes caused me to smile. She was trying to bait me.

I decided to test my theory.

Without saying a word, I turned to face her a little more, examining her body up and down. She simply smiled, apparently enjoying the attention. I decided to go a little further and reached out towards her with my own finger. I followed her touch, brushing softly enough to tickle, as I drew the dragon that splayed across her body.

My theory was confirmed as she smiled at me, giving a dramatic sigh of approval. “Mmmm. You didn’t answer me.” She grinned, as though victorious, when she placed a hand on my thigh, stroking slowly up.

At that moment, interrupting us, the lights dropped. A quiet murmur filled the room as I pulled away from her, although her palm stayed firmly on my thigh. Everyone turned to face the stage as the first riff of an electric guitar filled the room.

Attentions held, all voices fell silent as a quiet solo started. The tone was light and rhythmic; beautiful. I was very impressed.

The spotlights suddenly burst into life, illuminating the stage. A statuesque band held the stage, heads bowed. Drummer, bass player, guitarist and keyboards were all present; unmoving. A solitary microphone centred the platform. There was no sign of the phantom guitarist.

The girl next to me had grown impatient. Her hand once more began to move on my thigh, determined to get my attention. She pawed at my shoulder and stroked my chin, trying to turn my gaze from the stage. I ignored her, waiting for the guitarist to appear.

Her fingers crept higher, smoothing the tops of my thighs. Still I ignored her touch, bringing an audible sigh from her. ‘She’s not one to quit,’ I thought to myself as her palm slid over my cock and her fingers gripped me. ‘She knows what she wants.’

I was about to finally turn around when I saw a leg appear from behind the stage, clad in nylons and high heels. A blonde woman stepped onto the stage, plucking delicately at a guitar slung over her shoulder. Her hair fell past her face, obscuring her features.

It was only once she reached the microphone that she looked up. I gasped quietly and I heard the girl next to me virtually hiss at the sight of her. It was the other girl from the front desk; my lover.

Her shadowed eyes looked out at the dark room, framed by her long fair hair. She wore a black leather jacket and dark denim shorts. A patch of her thigh was visible before the holdup stockings that adorned the rest.

The other band members joined in the tune as she released her guitar, reaching out for the microphone with visibly shaking hands. I sat transfixed by the sight of her. I couldn’t wait to hear her sing. As she brought the microphone to her lips, I realised I was holding my breath. The music grew louder and heavier as each member joined in.

My eyes closed of their own accord as I listened to her sing those first few words. Her voice seeped into my soul and I just drank in the sweet music she was singing. She sung for me, in my head. The song was fiery and full of angst. I could’ve laughed to see her strut about the stage, singing loudly about damnation, Hell and sin. It seemed so out of character.

She seemed a totally different woman to the one I had experienced. Despite that, the same demeanour bled through. She was still herself, but there was more to her than I had given her credit for. It gave me a smile to learn that even an ancient fool like me could be taught something new by a woman barely out of her teens. I then remembered the confidence with which she stripped for me; my tongue slipped across my lips at the memory.

“Talentless bitch,” I heard a voice spit next to me, cutting the air with its vile tone. I turned to look at the girl next to me, eyes narrowed with spite. “Slut’s up there now parading around, trying to impress. She wants my job, I know it.”

Her angry mutters trailed off, but her expression lingered, her lips pursed, as though ready to spit, and her eyes burning slits. I found it distasteful and angering. I did not know the blonde girl, but I liked her. I wanted more of her. Hearing the other girl speak so negatively of her fired me up and turned me against her, suddenly.

“Just wait and see; she won’t be here that long. I’ll make sure of it.” Her tone betrayed her vindictive, spiteful attitude.

I acted without thinking. Turning, I ordered two vodkas from the barman. Listening to the music while he poured, I allowed my eyes to close and tried to focus myself. Again, she interrupted my thoughts with another hissed curse.

“Would you do something for me, please? Take these to my friend in the corner?” I asked her, pointing towards Cassandra. “Just give the woman in the red dress these drinks, please. Tell her I’ve sent her a gift.”

She was definitely a little surprised, but her hands graciously accepted the glasses I thrust at her. Nodding, a little confused, she got to her feet and shuffled off down the room. I turned my back on her.

I refused to feel guilty. She was a bitch and she deserved far worse.

‘Damn it,’ I thought. ‘I won’t feel guilty.’ I looked back to find the throng of succubae parting to allow her entrance. Cassandra’s face creased into a wide grin as the drinks were offered to her, beaming over the girl’s shoulder at me. It was too late now. She was as good as sacrificed to the whims of the succubae, until they finished with her.

As I watched, the group gathered around and brought the girl closer into the fold. She was soon giggling and flirting, pulled left and right by the allure of her admirers. Her feeble resistance was broken down. It was only a few minutes before two of them– Cassandra and the woman from the street – had their arms around her shoulders. She was escorted away, towards the back of the stage, while they whispered quietly in her ear.

I took a large drink of whisky, slamming the glass down and demanding a refill. I knew they’d go easy on her.

Succubae turn seduction to an art form, but Cassandra rarely allowed it to go too far. She fed on their sexual energy, of course, but she never allowed them to be harmed. I swallowed. I hoped she still employed the same philosophy. Small doubts niggled at me internally, until I heard the song change.

I turned to watch as the spotlights dimmed, focusing on the singer. A soft, lilting tune accompanied her as she began to sing, her voice low and sorrowful. I was already feeling emotionally tumultuous, but listening to her sing of love and heartbreak enraptured me. The pain was evidenced in her voice, she sang with such sincerity. I knew then that I had chosen well; that I wanted to see more of her. I wanted her.

I listened to her play and sing for what felt like hours. My little knowledge of her gave far more weight to her songs and the passion behind them; I could feel her pain, elation, excitement and joy. With every song I felt a little more in love. It was a strange feeling, one I rarely felt but which I wanted to never end. I was supposed to be the seducer, in my own mind, and yet here she was winning my affections.

The show ended, the curtain fell and I felt my trance was broken. I figured she would be heading backstage and I had to follow. Before the lights could come back on, I jumped from the stool and drank the last of my glass dry. One deep breath was taken and I stepped towards the stage, in search of the backrooms.

Behind the stage lay a labyrinth of small rooms and storage closets. I was amazed by the sheer size of it all. Nearing the dressing rooms at last, I glanced for names but, of course, found none on the doors. Instead, I took to listening for quiet voices on the other side.

The rooms were empty, until I found one door slightly ajar. There were voices inside. My heart lifted and I peered inside. My breath left me in a gasp and I bit my lip to keep my silence.

There, sitting on the dressing room table, was Cassandra. Her dress was pulled down, to reveal her round, heavy tits cupped in her hands. She squeezing and mauling at them, tugging on her perfect pink nipples while her mouth fell open in silent rapture.

Her dress was pulled up over her waist, exposing her long, smooth legs and hairless mound. Between her thighs, face buried deep in Cass’ pussy, lay the petite Asian girl, still barely wearing her blue dress. She had another girl beneath her, with her arms wrapped around her grinding hips. The room was filled with the sweetest of smells - elegant perfumes, hot bodies and primal sex – as well as soft, synchronised whimpers of pleasure.

Cassandra’s eyes, wide and aflame with her excitement, found mine and a wicked grin split her face, showing her teeth. She winked at me, those long lashes slowly batting, making a show of pinching her nipples for me. Her slender fingers reached down and gripped the hair of the Asian girl, pressing her face deeper into her slit.

“Suck my clit, you whore, or I’ll get Victoria to spank you again.”

Muffled, an obedient voice seemed to mumble out “Yes mistress.” Cassandra laughed, enjoying the girl’s submission, her head falling back and flashing me a smile. There was a gentle, happy murmur from her throat while she ran her fingers through the girl’s soft hair.

“Enjoying yourself?” spoke a quiet voice behind me.

I turned quickly, the hands in my pockets quickly adjusting the tenting material. It was my blonde girl, of course, wearing a beautiful grin. Cheekily, she peeked over my shoulder and her throat vibrated with approval.

“Very nice,” she said as her palm pressed against my throbbing shaft, gripping me. She watched the others for a few minutes while her hand softly stroked and rubbed against me, moaning in my ear.

“Your singing…” I sighed at the feel of her breath on me. “Your music is beautiful. I had to come see you, I had to-“

Her lips landed on mine as she kissed me hard. I reciprocated, taking her cheeks in my hands and holding her deeply into the kiss. As our lips peeled away, I took her hand in mine. She knew what I wanted, immediately, as she virtually dragged me towards her dressing room.

The blue door kicked open and she stood in the threshold, turning to look at me and rub her palm over my chest. I smiled, stroking her cheek as we admired each other.

“I don’t even know your name,” she whispered as she grabbed my hand and pulled me into the room, pressing her lips to mine once more while I kicked the door shut behind us.

“Dominik,” I managed once our lips parted. “Dominik, with a K.”

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