Eve

"Isn't that place Monsters Only?" Jean asked.

The two women with him had different reactions. Maggie squeezed his hand. She was sitting in the aisle seat of the shuddering old transit bus next to him. Her soft features and comforting presence reminded him of the archetypal girl next door. That she turned into a slavering, bloodthirsty werewolf every full moon wasn't important. At the moment, only the dog-ear hairband gave any hint to her secret; it was a bit of an inside joke.

"It's totally fine," Maggie said with a smile, "Chrystalis has been human-friendly for years now. It's not like the old days."

"Thankfully not," the other woman added, her Eastern European accent making the comment seem sarcastic or derisive. Vel was taller than both of them, wearing tight black jeans and a denim vest festooned with patches from bands whose names were indistinguishable mixes of jagged lines and Pagan symbols. Vel's stood next to them, gripping one of the chair's supports with one hand as the bus rocked back and forth on the weary asphalt. "A human entering a Sanctuary in the old days would be cause for great scandal...and bloodshed."

Jean fell back into himself, once again worrying. He'd been an invariant homebody before he met the two women. Amazing the kind of people you meet at a Knitting Class. They'd shared a love of craftwork and creation, each with their favourites and strengths, and had helped each other improve as a result. It had only been a weekly thing at first, but within a few months they were meeting outside of class. They'd almost adopted him as their pet introvert, coaxing him out of his shell bit by bit until he was willing, begrudgingly, to spend a Saturday night with them. His precious books and Twitter feed left behind, his legs bounced far more than the simple jostling of the bus would account for.

Out the window, the neighbourhood changed from the cramped townhouses and student accommodates of the University District and into the shops and market stalls of the Zoke: the area with the city's largest monster population. Witches sold potions and divinations next to raw meat restaurants. Tailors custom-made outfits to accommodate the wings, tails, horns, and hooves of dozens of separate species and their various offshoots. Spices from places long gone from history ladled out next to bulk candy and purified salt for rituals.

The sun faded to a twilight haze. Neon lights flickered to life, though stores in the Zoke were just as likely to use the light of white, cold-burning magefire. Nocturnal life would be waking up, giving the city a second life. Jean gulped, ancestral fears crawling up his spine. Maggie squeezed his hand again. That reassured him. If someone tried to mess with him, Maggie or Vel would have his back. And though the former was a lot less intimidating in her human form, she was fiercely protective of the people around her. And Vel...Vel was scary. Jean would much rather be behind her than in her way.

They ambled out of the bus, making their way north down the sidewalk. Cars playing Techno Funeral Dirges rattled by, giving the jaunt an ominous atmosphere. Jean stuck his hands in his pocket and tried to appear as nonthreatening as possible. Considering he was a slightly built human wearing an expression you'd expect to see on a mouse at a cat convention, that wasn't difficult. Vel and Maggie chatted away, completely at ease with their current surroundings, with Jean following close behind.

"I hear No Masque is playing later tonight," Maggie said. Val nodded.

"Good. I dated the drummer a few centuries back. Huge dick, literally and figuratively, but the dude can play. Eve's the reason people turn up though. Girl's got a voice that'll make you believe in something."

"Who's Eve?" Jean asked. Maggie yanked him forward until he was in the middle of the two women.

"She's only the best dang vocalist in the Monster Metal scene! You'll love her, promise."

There was a small crowd milling around the entrance to the venue. A mixture of costumed and real monsters conversed and laughed. Vel had told him that some humans liked dressing up, especially around October, but a lot of the monster folk found it gauche. So he'd just worn what he had on any weekend night out: pants and a polo t-shirt. Vel had joked that he looked like the opening kill of a slasher movie, which got her chewed out by Maggie but had still set his nerves on edge.

There were so many gorgeous women around him. The men were likewise attractive and well dressed, but the crowd was easily 2:1 weighted toward the feminine. So many incredible outfits, it made Jean jealous in a way. His mind's internal webwork of traps slammed shut any inference that he wanted to look like them, shuffling the desires and feelings over to the much more acceptable notion that he was attracted to them. Which he was, of course. But the swirling, freeing clothes they wore made his outfit feel like a prison jumpsuit by comparison. Drab, utilitarian, and mandatory.

The bouncer was a hulking minotaur woman who had her huge head on a swivel, passively scanning the people who had congregated in front of Chrystalis. Next to her, a meek catgirl took cash and handed out little glow bracelets as opposed to tickets. One might consider trying to spoof the system by bringing your own wristbands, but the horned titan at the door made that idea a lot less appealing. She wasn't some emotionless sentinel, however. The moment she saw Jean's trio approaching, she lit up like a firecracker.

"Blood and Blade, Velnias!" she called, waving them over. When Vel was in striking distance, the bouncer picked her up in a bear hug that saw her over six foot height lifted from the ground. The minotaur only let her down when her legs started kicking. "Haha, sorry. But it's been so long! How've you been?"

"Surviving up until now, thank Belle. Part-time psychopomp gigs with some tattooing on the side," Vel explained. After Maggie gave her an elbow nudge, she continued. "Right, sorry. This is my partner, Maggie. And this is Jean. He's human and he's new, but he's alright."

Belle's grin flickered when she turned her attention to the timid young man, but any concern he might have had dissolved when she gave him a slap on the shoulder that rattled his bones. "Don't worry, my friend! Humans are always welcome here. Especially friends of Vel! Go in, go in!" She flashed the catgirl handling cash a pair of finger guns. After a sigh of exasperation, she handed three sets of glowing bracelets in different colours. Jean got stuck with blue.

***

In the distant past, long before Maggie or Jean had been born but after Vel's poetry phase, Chrystalis had been a church. The exterior walls were still made of stone, and if one were to squint, they could make out where the pulpit had been. But it had been completely transformed in the wake of the Quiet Rapture, made Sanctuary by ancient rites as a place for non-humans to congregate in peace, and briefly served as base of operations during the ensuing struggles for equality. As the fires of revolution waned and the blossoming peace between human and monster proved to be more than a dream, it evolved too. From haven from monster hunters to a shelter for the downtrodden. Then, as the city grew and services took over from charity, it transformed again into a place of celebration.

A large floor space spilled into a seated drinking area, where the crowd talked and laughed and generally looked like they were having a good time. Murals of butterflies and moths in various life stages covered the interior walls, all made of glass. The lighting was dim and filtered with an eerie red hue, like something out of an Italian horror movie. The sea of rainbow-colored glow bracelets undercut any hint of suspenseful mood, and Jean started to wonder if the moody colour to the lights was just for irony's sake.

There were a lot of people. More people entered all the time. Jean's anxiety continued its climb. So many people, so many chances to fuck up social interaction.

"I need a drink," he told the others. Maggie looked worried for a moment, but he waved her off. "Just a little, take the edge off. I'll meet y'all back here in a sec, okay?" He took off before they could respond, and before either of his friends noticed the tremble in his voice.

The bar didn't look otherworldly, consisting of a half-dozen taps full of microbrew with a small menu of other offered beverages on a blackboard. The bartender was likewise mundane in appearance, at least in dress. When she turned away from her previous customer to face Jean, however, a pair of eyes with horizontal pupils blinked back at him.

"What can I getya?" the goat eyed girl asked.

He dodged his standard fair and aimed for something adventurous, ordering one of the weird brews on tap. His first choice, Barley Alive, was apparently a special batch for ogres and other races with stronger constitutions that would knock him on his ass if he drank more than a bottle. He settled for an IPA called Prima Nocturne which wasn't quite the hoppy disaster that most pale ales were for him. He slid a tip to the bartender and headed back to his friends.

But they were nowhere to be found. Not around where he'd seen them last, at least. Jean felt a little stung by this. They'd dragged him out to this damn place, after all. He sipped at his beer and looked around the darkened, crowded room, trying to not look like the fish out of water that he was. He'd downed the entire glass and not found either Vel or Maggie. Jean was just about to call it quits on the whole night.

Then he saw Her.

Her skin was so pale it was almost blue. Raven hair poured down her shoulders, parted by a pair of long, pointed ears. She wore a long-sleeved dark red crop top which exposed enough of her chest to see the crimson pendant hanging from her necklace. Blue jeans concealed very little of her curvy figure. She was leaning against the far wall, alone. He caught sight of her for a few seconds before the crowd reshuffled and she disappeared once more by the mass of enthusiastic monsterfolks.

In spite of everything: his social anxiety, his nervousness around new people, and the certainty that this woman was some variety of being capable of tearing him apart...he was drawn to her. Moth to flame comparisons rang through his head, but his legs carried him closer. He mouthed potential openers, but they all sounded foolish. This was the coolest damn lady he'd ever seen. He committed to himself that if she was busy or just not interested, he'd book it and leave her alone. It would likely scald his already fragile ego, but he didn't want to come off like a pushy dick either.

The straight approach wouldn't do. In his state of hyper tactical awareness, it would seem too forward. He altered course to rest his back against the same wall she was leaning on but several feet away. Taking a sip from his empty glass in an attempt to look casual, he thought cool thoughts.

When she turned to look at him, he could almost feel her eyes; they burned through him like wildfire. It was all he could to do not immediately flee.

"You new around here? What's your name?" she asked in a smoky voice. A shiver slid up his spine. She didn't raise it, but Jean could hear it above the din. To respond, he had to lift his to a low yell.

"Jean. I'm new to here, but not new to the city. I just don't get out much," he admitted, then clenched his fists. Stupid answer, he chided himself. Now she thinks you're a creepy loner!

But instead of being repulsed, she actually laughed. A pair of pearlescent fangs gleamed faintly in the dim light. "Yeah, I know how that can be. Comfort zones are comfortable for a reason. If I didn't have my band, I'd be reading. I'm Eve, by the way."

Jean smiled. Eve. What a pretty name. Wait, he'd heard that name before! "You're in a band, right?"

"Oh yeah. We're okay. I'm vocals and rhythm. I was just vocals but our last guitarist had to leave and guard a temple or somesuch. Ancient blood-oath, I don't know. But hey, it pays. And folks seem to like us, at least at monster-friendly venues. You're human, right?" He nodded. At first, he felt the urge to apologise. She must have seen his apprehension and waved him off. "It's all good dude. The old ways are dying, and good riddance. I'll admit, I only asked as a formality. I can...smell you."

"I...what?" he asked, unsure how to reply to that. Eve crossed the small distance between them. It took him a second to get over that she was actually taller than him by two inches. She must have been slouching against the wall.

When she laughed, he blanched. That made her laugh even harder. "Sorry, I know that might sound weird, but I can tell a lot about a person with just their scent. It's a little tough to do with all these people around. All sweaty, emotional. Want to talk somewhere...private?"

Jean gulped. He was on a completely different continent from his comfort zone now. He could practically hear Vel urging him to go for it. As a stand-in for an Id, she worked incredibly well. And there was that attraction that he couldn't describe. He knew that some paranormal creatures had powers to influence the unaware, but the moment she touched his hand to pull him along, his reservations exploded into nervous anticipation. She lead him away from the crowd, down a side corridor, past the bathrooms, and to a corridor that ended in an emergency exit. Concealed by a bend in the hallway, they had about as much privacy as one could get.

When she turned around at last, she inhaled him. Leaning in close to his neck, she breathed in slowly. Jean's tried to conceal how hot that act had been for him, but the goosebumps that prickled his skin could not be concealed.

"I thought so," she said after a long pause. "You're gorgeous. I can taste the hidden feelings inside you. The urges. It's so clear."

He backed away. "I don't...I don't have anything like that!" His back hit the wall opposite from her. The exit was only a few feet away. He could leave at any time.

"You know what I mean. Nobody on Earth gives off heat quite like a girl in denial." Eve pressed him back into the wall, gently. She bent down and inhaled again, and there was no hiding the erection her act had given him. Being at the mercy of this dominant woman was awakening all manner of feelings he'd hoped to hide from the world. The secret accounts. The hours spent on shopping websites. The voice and appearance changing apps on his phone. The long, wistful sighs every Christmas since he was seven when none of the presents he'd gotten were dresses.

Of course, it wasn't like he could admit that. "But I'm not a girl!" he said, the words coming out brittle.

"I have a way to prove it. You may have noticed the fangs?" She showed them off by opening her ruby lips wide. That set off another chain reaction of feelings and thoughts of what those lips could do. "I could help you see, for a moment, what it might be like. I don't just drain blood. I drain hormones from it. One bite, and I could make all the boy feelings disappear...at least for a while. It's only temporary."

Jean tried to deny everything that she was implying. The very thought that he could be...that way. The words wouldn't even come to them, rendered verboten for so long that the process to dig them up was effort in and of itself. But he didn't reject her offer. As her mouth got closer, he looked from her to the door, then back. He could leave. He could just...

Jean gave the hint of a nod. Just a wobble of the muscles, really. Could have easily been an accident. Totally. He was free from consequence.

The sharp pain in his neck made him squeal. He could feel something be pulled from him. A sapping of his muscle's strength and will that made his knees weak. She pushed him against the wall, keeping him pinned while also propping him up, and continued to drain him. His erection faded from his awareness, blood diverting and reducing his cock back to flaccidity. The fear and anxiety disappeared too. Replacing it was a sense of deep calm. It was a trance-like state of acceptance of the current situation. What was happening was fine. He was okay.

Eve withdrew her fangs. He felt a wet warmth trickle down his neck for a moment, but she licked the bite mark with an absurdly long tongue and the wound sealed itself. He had no strong emotional underpinning. It was a strange sensation.

"How do you feel?" she asked, her concern genuine.

That question had a complicated answer. He was miserable, but also relieved. A perpetual engine forcing him in directions he had no desire to go in had ground to a halt, yet he had nowhere else to go. Hazy, confusing feelings deluged him. He was aroused, but his cock wobbled limp and useless in his pants. Above all, he felt meek. Passive. Without drive or purpose. His distress must have shown through his expression, because Eve hugged him with a fraction of her incredible might, winding him.

"The strange sensation you're feeling is normal. I've drained you of much of your androgens. Of course, you need some manner of sex hormone. And I have a way to give you a fresh injection right now, but..." She tapped her pants. There was a distinctive bulge there...something that wouldn't have looked out of place in his own trousers an hour before. Now the sight of a hardening cock in front of him made his heart skip a beat. "But I'm going to need your help getting it out."

She rubbed herself through the fabric of her jeans. It was so thick! Eight inches of womanhood, ready to strike him down. Eve winced as her hardness strained at the denim. That size, the strength she had. She was the one in control.

Jean took the hint. He kneeled, unzipping her. An attempt to fish out her cock proved too difficult, its size unwieldy in his inexperienced fingers. He was forced to unbutton her jeans too, sliding them down enough to make extraction possible. It was enormous. Way bigger than his, of course, but bigger than any he'd seen in person. Not that he'd seen any outside of a changing room!

"You know what to do?" she asked. It wasn't accusatory, merely curious. He shook his head. "That's alright. Start by stroking it. It's already getting hard."

He obliged. Eve was in control. He'd had significant practice beating his own meat, so the procedure shouldn't be too different, he reasoned. Jean stroked her cock with his right hand, slowly. She felt so hard and hot.

"That's it. Good girl," Eve said. The praise pressed some hidden button in his brain and his breath caught. How had those two words felt so good?! His pace increased, wanting to reciprocate and give some measure of pleasure back. The effect was visible, apparently, because the next thing he knew, the woman was stroking his hair. "Do you like being called that? Do you like me calling you a good girl?"

He nodded. "I...I don't know why..."

Eve laughed. She gripped her cock and began rubbing it against his face, marking him. Jean accepted the treatment. He left his mouth hanging open and his eyes half-lidded, accepting his role. "We both know why. Don't worry, once we get some of these estrogens into you, you'll feel better."

Jean raised an eyebrow. "You have estrogens...inside you?"

"Well, most people do. But when my race drains sex steroids, excess buildups of certain products can build up and need to be released. And since it bypasses the normal digestion system...nevermind. It doesn't matter. All you need to understand is that my cum is full of girl juice. And I need your help getting it out."

The throbbing shaft pressing against his cheek lured him in. It has what he needed. Jean opened his mouth and let his lips wrap around her cock's enormous head. The taste of salt filled his mouth, but it wasn't unpleasant. His motions were still slow, marred with hesitation and worry that he might mess up.