Host Hunting Ch. 01

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It is time to step out of hiding and back into the night.
5.4k words
4.42
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Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 10/15/2017
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Redstones
Redstones
44 Followers

The tattered window covering with its corner hung-up on a nail, allows a sliver of what is outside to show through. The rays of growing darkness, my only true friend, currently expands its dominion over the city streets. A street light flickers to life at the corner of the street in a vain attempt to hold back the darkness. It casts a ball of pale light as the rays of darkness that pushes back. Blurred movements can be seen just outside the circle as they edge further into the fragile protection of darkness.

I can't hide forever within the confines of this darkened room. There are needs that can't be fulfilled from within to feel alive even though I am not, I can feel. Sustenance to grow stronger must come from others, and from that strength the ability to defend that which is mine. To feel the sexual arousal emanating from another and thus feed off of it. That cannot be done alone, no matter how safe it might feel to stay put. It is time to step out of hiding and back into the night. To sense the emotional tides of the city as they wash over my senses and feed my needs.

Turning my back to the window I gaze about the room. It has been a long enough time that dust has settled everywhere. It dares to invade the bed of my host, where lay a thin layer even over the shell of my man tucked in for the long sleep. A good man such as he was, is such an important commodity. He was such a nourishing host during our time together. We had fun until the end, such a fragile, yet potent life they lead.

Gliding to the apartment door I listen for any sound from beyond. Far from defenseless, there is still no need to alert others of my presence. Even with my host, gone for these many cycles, there is no rush, for patience is the key that unlocks many doors. The rays of light and dark change from one to the other many times before the sound of footsteps finally stop on the other side of this door. There is a perversion to the essence of this man that saturates the air. I have felt this presence before as he has walked the halls. Inhaling the musky scent deeply, my senses sharpen as he raps his bare knuckles against the door.

A quick glance at the window shows that the light rays are dominating at the moment so I must stall for the dark rays to make their presence known. After repeatedly knocking and calling out, there is a scratching noise around the lock and then the handle turns. Stepping back I slide behind the opening door. It is the apartment manager that steps in. Muttering at the darkness he flicks the light switch a number of times which only makes him mutter, "Damn" again. Leaving the door open so the light can shine in, he steps further into the room, searching about as his eyes try to adjust to the darkness. Then one last, "Damn," as he sees what is on the bed.

The impatience for his payment is only outweighed by the inconvenience he now finds. This cost of time is a foreign concept for me. My life depends on stealth and patience. Time floats along only within the river of the living. I could slide out the door unseen, but the rays of light dominate. I must await the shadows of darkness to return. Since I can't safely leave yet, I decide to entertain myself while the light fades to dark.

My hands surge forward pinning the manager's arms to his side as my wings spread wide. Stretching them outward they gently close the door. A startled scream never leaves his lungs as I whisper into his mind's perversions. As I hold him in place with shear strength and will my wings slowly enfold him. My tail slides up between his legs and caresses him. My whispering tendrils of passion strike straight into his libido, like a spider's venom to a fly, immobilizing him as I search for the tender morsels within.

He is not host material. That is obvious moments after I start my search, but as a temporary play toy, there is still enough lust left even though he is in the winter of life. At first, I found his memories to be lust filled fantasies. As I fed deeper into his sexual memories his first-hand knowledge of many of the female dwellers were too detailed. On a whim, I trace one memory to its core. He is angry, but smiling at a tenant who is pleading with him. With one hand he pushes her back into the apartment and lets the door close behind him as he steps in.

There is an angry exchange with his hand out expectantly, but she keeps shaking her head. He locks the door and turns back to the young woman. She glances to the corner of the room to where a crib stands with baby inside, the look of shock on her face. She starts to shake her head no, but he slaps her as a surge of his hormonal passion floods over me. Still shaking her head no, she stares at her feet as his hands slowly unbutton her shirt. His impatience with his fingers fumbling takes control as he grabs her shirt and pulls. Buttons fly about the room scattering around the floor.

Pushing her shirt off her shoulders to her elbows where he grabs the loose tails of it as he steps behind her. Tying the ends together he has her arms are effectively locked behind her back she stands before him bare breasted. Maliciously he kicks the back of her knees knocking her to the floor. Grabbing her hair he pulls her upright into a kneeling position. Leisurely pulling his cock out as he walks around to stand before her while kneels stunned before him he slaps her across the face with his cock.

Grabbing her hair he yanks it back until she opens her mouth to scream and drives his cock inside. Pushing it all the way into her throat, and doesn't stop until his balls are pressed up against her chin. She struggles, but he holds her tight until lack of air causes her to slow her struggles. Pulling out he bends forward putting his face in hers as she gasps for air. He smacks one breast and then the other leaving a red hand print on each. She tries to say something, but suddenly he yanks her head back again and her mouth is once more filled with cock.

This continues until he tires of the game and face fucks her. Pumping in and out until he shoots his first roping load down her throat, and pulls out so his next couple land on her face and chest. Laughing he wipes his sticky cock in her hair. Pulling out of this memory I flash into another and another. Each one more gruesomely demented than the next. My anger builds while witnessing his acts of sexual violence against the men and women he has power over.

My wings slowly tighten around this monster as I steal not only his potency but his life force. He shrinks to a husk of the man he was. In the end, I lay him on the floor beside the bed of my last host. A good man, that kept me fed for years with the most sincere love he gave freely. This vile creature though, I strip naked and lay him on the bed above the covers. His heart gave out before my wings finally retreated from their grasp. He will be found lying beside my ex-host. Let his silenced tongue explain this last perversion on a long dead man to his finder.

At least the rays of darkness have returned to the world, so I can finally leave. Drifting toward the door I look back one last time to my host before reaching my senses out to the hallway and beyond. The scent of the living is everywhere, walking about their daily lives within this building, but none are between me and the street below. Leaving my host's home after so many years, of sharing the space with him brings a loss of comfort and safety to me. The hallways are empty as I quickly make my way down the back stairs to the street.

Pausing only momentarily at the door before sliding out and disappearing within the surrounding rays of darkness. The freedom is a mix of exhilaration and loneliness for me. It is as close to purgatory as I can feel. It brings the hunter and hunted instincts sharply back, that drifting between that I felt from each of my previous host losses. My senses shift from the building to the surrounding shadows. For I am not the only predator on the street. I reach out then glide from one to the next dark rays that cloak me from others.

There are many possible hosts hiding within the buildings as I pass, but that is not where I want to find them. The best hosts are those of the living that don't fear the predators that they walk among. They feel that, though they walk through the streets with danger all around, they are man enough to face it down. I need a strong, confident man of his prowess.

I met my last host as he walked home from the corner bar. He had his fill of the encouraging elixir that made women look beautiful and he deserving of their desires. Drifting up beside him and a whisper in his ear, was all it took for him to wrap his arm around my waist and invite me home. The drink was so potent that he just smiled as my bat shaped wings unfurled behind me in full sight once we got to his home. He just tapped the edge of his bed beside him and said, "Bring that kinky body over here."

He was a great willing host for so many years. A pity the living only continue living for so long. Now I must make my way down this street, hugging one out jutting to the next until I know what may have moved into this area since I have been protected by my host. The other beasties shrink back into the side streets and alleyways to give me room to pass. As the shadowy threats pull back I feel it is time for a more enticing hunting form. One that these living men dream about. My form slowly solidifies as I near the corner light. My wings wrap around my naked body to transform into clothing that doesn't quite clothe, but compared to my norm, I am over dressed.

Some men are gathered outside the tavern door, standing in that harsh light that serves to force back the dark. They barely look at me as I walk past and I even have to open the door myself. I pause in front of the door and look at my reflection. There I see a tall raven haired woman with smooth lightly tanned skin, partially covered by a black bustier with silver piping. The bustier barely encases my large breast, as long as I don't reach up, but it does match the color of my lips. My long legs are covered by a matching black pencil midi skirt with single breasted silver buttons walking up the side slit. Four-inch, fuck me, stilettos finish the ensemble.

As I pull open the door, the music blares out onto the street. Thinking the noise will cover, he mumbles to the others, "She sure came to the wrong place dressed like that. Think she is trying to reclaim her man that has switched sides?"

A predatorial smile crosses my lips as I look about the assembly of men before me. Dragging one out by his balls may be a fun, but I need a host, not boy toy to spank for the night. I am turning a number of heads as I make my way to the bar, but the looks are annoyance not of sexual hunger. Taking a stool at the bar the bartender struts over. Such a pretty man. Standing before me with a clean shaved chest only covered by black suspenders that cover his nipples. The straps reach all the way down to a set of leather chaps lay open in front. His very adequate manhood is covered by a black leather pouch that strains to contain him. Tipping my head to one side, I admire his bare firm ass standing proudly in back. Got to love a man in chaps.

Before I can say anything he speaks up, "You are obviously in the wrong bar unless you're waiting on a friend or trying out for the Thursday night drag show. I think you want the straight bar down the street."

Lifting my eyes up from his cod piece thinking what a pity, I ask, "Which way?" He points toward the door and then crooks his finger to the left. "Thank you." With that, I slide off the stool and head out. Stepping to the side as a group of guys come streaming through the door. I am about to keep going when I hear one of the guys say, "What is that bitch in heat doing in here. No guy in his right mind would touch that."

Nobody likes to be insulted. Even a demon has a certain amount of self respect. Especially one that can be very vain about her looks and doesn't think a vicious remark about how one looks should go unrewarded. Like most of the men in here, he has varying trace of bi desire in his aura. It isn't much to go with, but I have been around for a while so it doesn't take much for me to play. I jostle my way through the group and step into his aura. A whisper brings him to a halt and with a smitten look on his face he turns toward me and pulls me tight.

All of his friends stop and watch as he tilts his head slightly and gives me a kiss. It takes a bit more of a push than I would of if her were straight, but he lowers his hands, grabs my ass, and lifts me into an even more passionate kiss. All of his friends look on in wonderment, but one of them is almost to the point of violence. Releasing my mental push on him I tenderly touch his cheek and melt into the crowd as I head for the door.

As I push the door open I smile at the men outside and say what a lovely tavern you have. Loud, angry voices flow out through the still open door, sending a couple of the bouncers quickly inside. With a wave to the remaining guys I turn left and head down the street. Stepping into the rays of darkness I relax and reach out with my senses to feel for what my eyes do not see.

The living are everywhere, yet few are living a life worth sharing. Depression, drugs, alcohol, floods my senses to the point that some are not much more than living zombies glued to a television, phone, or internet it doesn't matter, none are living the life they could. The book reader on the fourth floor of the apartment house across the street is no better off as she dreams of a fantasy life that doesn't exist. Their own personal demons play havoc with their lives, while the real demons sit and watch for their own chance to play.

Skirting the edge of a streetlight's glow. I see the tinted glow of eyes looking down from a balcony above. Slowing to a stop I concentrate on the eyes above as I melt into the darkest rays I can find. From the security of the shadow I cast out for others that might be watching my movements, but sense none. Feeling the eyes moving with me to the end of its perch then spinning with a hiss, as it attacks a carpeted post that has been the brunt of its anger many times before. Stepping forward I continue on my way.

Changing my focus I move from shadow to shadow until I know there is no immediate threats. Music from one of the apartments above, causes me to melt against the side of a building to watch as a couple admires the night sky. Their eyes seek out the bright spots above, while mine seek out the dark. It is amazing how the living enjoys the mirror of the things we do except when it comes to the sexual.

I am brought back to ground level as a small group bound onto the street from the entrance way of the building I am leaning against. There is not enough shadow to hide within as the men will be walking right past me. So pushing off from the wall I turn toward them and walk with one shoulder to the wall. They see me almost immediately and all five drop their conversation and spread out taking up more of the sidewalk.

Checking their auras as I walk toward them I realize that their sexual hungers are spiking. Varying amounts of sexual aggression shows, but no violent intent. I will not be able to get through the group without some harassment, but nothing unmanageable. As I confidently enter their snare I take the confident, dominant, female, attitude, and continue, into their midst.

The first two let me pass, but the third steps in front of me and stiff arms his hand against the wall, as he says, "Hello there."

Debating if I want to toy with these boys or just break his arm and walk through, I relax and let three of his friends quickly encircle me. They exude such testosterone vitality as they figure that they successfully cut off any escape. A tactical superiority in numbers allows that smug victorious smile spread across their faces. History has taught that a premature victory celebration has led the overconfident into many a fatal mistake.

This tall, good looking, young man with blonde locks so reminiscent of General George Custer leans against the wall before me. My eyes narrow and my own smile broadens as the time for that which is unseen to come into play as it had at the Little Big Horn. Saying, "Hello George." With a slight giggle in my voice. I was expecting a bit of confusion, to the reference of Custer, but it was almost as if I slapped them. My talons were beginning to uncurl from my body and slash out at these thugs when the change in their attitude registered.

As one the guys look startled and turn toward the one man that had held back outside of the crush. He was the tag along. The new untried of the lot. It was to him, the smallest and least intimidating of the lot that they each turned questioningly.

The blonde General, still propped against the wall turns his head and asks, "George? Does you know her?"

Poor George looks from me to him and then back to me. His beautiful, wide eyed hazel stare of disbelief makes my nonexistent heart begin to beat. As he tries to form a sentence other than the "Uhhhh." that seems to say it all. I blow him a kiss unseen by everyone, but him, as they wait for an explanation. It is amazing how the innocent are able to get their eyes so big when totally surprised.

Not able to resist the temptation I jump in with, "Oh George, you are so sweet, trying to protect my reputation." My hand shoots out and tags the bend of the General's elbow causing his arm to collapse. As his shoulder crashes into the wall. I step around him before his Seventh Calvary could bring the balance of his troops to stop me. Rushing the three steps to poor George I swirl around him, as I pull him into a hug.

Those eyes are enticing and I can't help, but give him a passion filled kiss as I use him as a shield from the others. I look over his shoulder as I step back from him, and see that the other three are moving fast toward us. With my way clear behind me, I say just loud enough for him to hear, "Remember me." Stepping backwards into the deeper shadows beyond the doorway's circle of light, I let my body fade to neutral colors as my wings spread wide. With a single lifting sweep, I soar backward, and up toward the rooftops.

Letting my wings carry me up alongside the building, until stepping onto the edge of the flat crown pieces along the rooftop, where I fold my wings and look down. I watch as the General and his merry band yell at poor George, as they demand to know where the slut went. George's arm points further down the street, but his eyes have never left me. His mind should never have allowed itself to see what he did not expect, but they did continue to track me. Even now he continues looking upward. As the others run down the street, only his eyes remain locked on me. Slowly, he walks to the corner of the building, and once there George lifts a hand skyward and motions for me to follow.

Intrigued I stand upright, turn, and walk the stone edging. Reaching the corner I see him smile up at me, then rush down the alleyway. With a leap, he clambers up the side of a dumpster. Takes a moment to stare upward, searching my corner of the building for me, a split second before jumping for the fire escape. Pulling himself up the side and over the top then runs up the four flights stairs. Sitting down where I was, I wait for him. Curious to see what this mild mannered boy is up to.

George gains that top rung and with a practiced swoop, swings himself onto the ledge and starts walking it to me. My eyes narrow, as any sane person would have dropped to the roof using the edge as a buffer from a fall. Watching him approach I let my wings stretch out and then fold behind me. No sense in hiding them now since he obviously saw them as I flew away. To see what his reaction might be, I let my human clothing fade leaving only tiny patches of fabric to cover my intimate sexuality.

Redstones
Redstones
44 Followers
12